What Boys Talk About

Ryuji Kanzaki wanted to convey this fact to Yun Lan.

"Really?"

Yun Lan scratched his head and said no more, because the teacher for their first class had already arrived.

The bell marking the end of first period rang out, its clear chime slicing through the quiet classroom. The teacher's final "Class dismissed" had barely faded when the atmosphere seemed to break free of some kind of seal, instantly coming to life. The scrape of chairs and desks, the chatter, and the rustle of books being packed away all blended together.

The instant the bell stopped, Yun Lan shot to his feet so quickly that even Ryuji Kanzaki, sitting beside him, glanced over.

The calm expression he'd worn during class, listening attentively—or at least appearing to—was gone. In its place was a bright, almost buoyant look. His eyes even seemed a little brighter than usual.

As he quickly shoved his textbook from the last class into his desk, he reached for the bag of swimming gear he'd prepared ahead of time. Then he spoke to Kanzaki, who had just closed his notebook, his voice brimming with undisguised eagerness:

"Come on, let's go! The locker room will be packed if we're late!" He looked like an elementary schooler excited for a field trip, a far cry from the composed—or perhaps distracted—student he'd been just minutes earlier.

Ryuji Kanzaki paused as he arranged his books. He looked up, pushed his glasses back into place, and calmly studied Yun Lan's face, which practically screamed "I can't wait." After watching him for two seconds, he spoke in his usual steady, emotionless voice:

"Yun Lan, could you... go back to how you were yesterday?" He paused, seemingly searching for a more precise way to phrase it, then added, "I'm not quite used to this version of you.

"This mode, with its outwardly expressed emotions focused on a single recreational goal, deviates considerably from my baseline understanding of your behavior. It might interfere with my subsequent observations and judgments."

He spoke with utter seriousness, as if asking Yun Lan to adjust an unstable experimental parameter. To him, Yun Lan's sudden "state of excitement" was like an anomalous fluctuation in the data, introducing noise into a "model" that had been growing clearer.

"Huh?" Yun Lan stopped mid-step. His excited expression froze for a moment, then turned into one of amused disbelief. He looked at Kanzaki, whose gaze behind his lenses was earnest and unwavering. He clearly wasn't joking.

"Is that so..." Yun Lan rubbed his chin. The gleam of excitement in his eyes visibly dimmed and settled. His shoulders relaxed slightly, and his straight back returned to its usual, faintly languid curve. It was as if an invisible hand had smoothed away his expression, leaving the gentle but somewhat distant smile he usually wore. His eyes, too, became calm and inscrutable.

"Is this what you mean?" he asked. His voice had returned to its usual tone and rhythm, unhurried and nearly devoid of emotional inflection. It was as if the boy who'd been eager to rush to the pool had been nothing more than Kanzaki's imagination.

Ryuji Kanzaki carefully observed the change, like someone checking a newly debugged program.

A few seconds later, he nodded in satisfaction and gave his assessment with due precision: "Yes. The tension in your facial muscles has returned to baseline, your vocal patterns have returned to their usual range, and your overall energy levels are approaching yesterday's observed average. That's it."

Only then did he finish packing his things at an unhurried pace and pick up his bag of swimming gear. "Let's go."

The boys' locker room was filled with the faint smell of disinfectant and male hormones. The lighting was somewhat dim, and the air was warm and humid. The clang of metal locker doors opening and closing, the rustle of clothing, and the excited chatter of the boys mingled together, brimming with the unrestrained energy and restlessness unique to adolescence.

Yun Lan had already changed into his swim trunks. He was calmly folding his school uniform and placing it in his locker. His movements were steady, in contrast to the boys around him who were shoving their clothes in haphazardly or hurrying off to the pool. He blended into the crowd perfectly, neither rushing ahead conspicuously nor lagging behind enough to draw attention, just like any ordinary high school boy.

A few boys who had already changed and were still waiting for their friends gathered together, starting one of the most common and enduring topics of conversation among boys.

A somewhat tall boy nudged the person beside him with his elbow, a mischievous smile on his face. He lowered his voice, though not enough to keep those nearby from hearing.

"Hey, so, which girl in our class do you think has the best figure?" The question was blunt, carrying the distinctive adolescent mix of innocent curiosity and bold discussion about the female body.

The atmosphere immediately grew even livelier.

"Mako Amikura, maybe?" said a boy with glasses, pushing up his frames. "She's tall, and her legs are really long. During P.E. when she runs..."

"Chihiro Shiranami!" another boy with a darker complexion immediately chimed in, sounding certain. "Don't you think she's... well-proportioned? And she's always so energetic."

"Seriously? You're into that type?" The tall boy who'd started the conversation made an exaggerated gesture, teasing him. "Flat as a board?"

"I'm voting for Yume Kobashi," a voice from the corner joined in, a little shyly. "She's cute when she smiles, and... well, she's nicely proportioned."

"Hey! What are you saying?" "Everyone has their own taste!" "Then who do you like?" The boys immediately began arguing, pressing each other for answers, and laughing. They jostled one another in a lively but good-natured atmosphere, sharing their tastes in the blunt, awkward way unique to their age.

With his back to them, Yun Lan had just locked his locker. The metal latch clicked softly. Hearing the names and opinions behind him, he remained expressionless, simply turning around and leaning against the cold metal locker. His calm gaze swept over the group of classmates chatting excitedly.

He listened as the names Mako Amikura, Chihiro Shiranami, and Yume Kobashi came up again and again. He heard them discuss height, long legs, proportions, energy, smiles, and even more bluntly mentioned features. He listened to them laugh and tease each other about their tastes.

But he didn't join in.

He didn't agree with anyone or put forward his own choice. He simply stood there quietly, like an observer outside the conversation—or, perhaps, like someone who already had one clear and certain answer, and therefore had no need to take part in this selection process.