Casual Chat

The clamor of discussion seemed to fade into background noise. Beyond the jumble of names and adjectives, only one figure remained clearly etched in his mind.

Chestnut-long hair, eyes as blue as a clear sky, and a smile that curved with a warmth that was just a little bit mischievous. It wasn't the kind of "good figure" that was deliberately highlighted, but rather a sense of proportion and beauty that radiated vitality from within. It was the genuine softness and warmth he felt when she threw herself into his arms in the dormitory yesterday evening, and the trusting temperature transmitted through her fingertips when she held his hand.

--Honami Ichinose.

For him, this question required no discussion, nor was there a second option. The names and traits of other girls sounded like strange notes brushing past his ears, unable to stir a single ripple in his heart. His "answer" had long been carved in stone; it had nothing to do with these casual evaluations during break time, nor the restless, judgmental chatter of puberty.

It was a commitment that was more private, more profound, and carried the weight of more complex pasts and emotions.

He looked at the group of peers before him, rowdy and excited simply because of a topic, and the corners of his mouth curled up almost imperceptibly. There was a hint of understanding in that smile, but also a touch of detachment that stood apart from it all.

"Hey, Yun Lan! What do you think?" Suddenly, the tall boy noticed the silent Yun Lan and shouted toward him, seemingly wanting to pull this transfer student, who appeared a bit of a loner, into the conversation.

Yun Lan raised his eyes to meet the boy's curious gaze, a gentle but hollow smile appearing on his face. He shrugged, his tone casual: "Ah, this... I haven't really paid attention. You guys go ahead, I'm going to go rinse off."

He found the most foolproof excuse to avoid answering, then turned naturally and walked toward the showers, leaving the renewed laughter behind him.

His answer belonged only to himself, and would only be revealed to a specific person at a specific time. In this locker room filled with hormones and public debate, he chose to keep it safely hidden in his heart, like a one-of-a-kind treasure.

He quietly slipped away from the noisy discussion about the girls' figures in the locker room and followed Ryuji Kanzaki, who had already headed toward the pool entrance. Kanzaki's pace was as regular and steady as ever, as if he weren't heading to a lively swimming pool, but to another data collection site that required observation and recording.

Yun Lan walked about two steps behind him, neither deliberately closing the distance nor falling behind.

Kanzaki seemed to have eyes in the back of his head, or perhaps he simply judged that someone was following him by the sound of footsteps and the subtle changes in the surrounding light. He didn't look back, but tossed out a question in his steady voice, which rang out clearly in the chlorine-scented corridor:

"Why are you following me?" There was no impatience in his tone, only pure curiosity, as if he were asking about the behavioral motives of a test subject.

Hearing this, Yun Lan didn't stop his pace, but a smirk-like expression surfaced on his face. He didn't offer common excuses like "I'm going the same way" or "it's just a coincidence," but instead replied in a tone that was almost willful, so straightforward it was nearly childish:

"Because I want to follow you." The reason was so simple it was almost unreasonable, yet it left no room for rebuttal.

Kanzaki's footsteps faltered almost imperceptibly. He tilted his head slightly, sweeping a glance at Yun Lan behind him from the corner of his eye, his gaze behind his glasses filled with scrutiny. Then, he turned back to look straight ahead and, in that calm tone used to state objective phenomena, uttered a truly earth-shattering conjecture:

"According to some non-mainstream but verified research cases in adolescent psychology and behavioral science, as well as sporadic reports on certain recent social phenomena..." He paused, seemingly organizing the most rigorous phrasing, "Could it be that you... have a sexual orientation preference for the same sex, or at least harbor an interest in exploring it? There have indeed been recent reports of people with similar tendencies who exhibit excessive attention or proximity-seeking behavior toward specific individuals of the same sex."

His word choice was academic and cold, as if he were discussing the habits of a rare species, completely devoid of the surprise, disdain, or curiosity that an ordinary person might show when mentioning such a thing.

"Pfft—cough, cough!" Yun Lan nearly choked on his own saliva, his calm expression instantly shattering. He quickened his pace to walk beside Kanzaki, staring wide-eyed at the side of the other boy's face as he seriously discussed the academic topic, his tone firm and decisive, even carrying a rare, near-frantic denial:

"That's not it! Absolutely not! Kanzaki-san, don't talk nonsense!" He waved his hands repeatedly, emphasizing, "My sexual orientation is very, very normal! I have the... um, aesthetic appreciation and reactions that one should have toward girls!" Although the last sentence was a bit vague, the intent to deny was incredibly firm. (Internal thought: How exactly is this guy's brain wired?! Following him means I like men?! This associative ability is way too 'rich'!)

Ryuji Kanzaki was slightly distracted by his intense reaction; he turned his head to look at him, seemingly performing a rapid analysis of his micro-expressions and behavior, before slowly nodding as if accepting this data point: "The denial reaction was strong and immediate, accompanied by slight physical defensive movements. Preliminary judgment: the probability that your claimed sexual orientation is true is high. However, the motive for your excessive attention toward a male still requires explanation."

Yun Lan rolled his eyes halfway, speechless, and decided not to discuss this dangerous topic any further. Fortunately, they had already reached the glass door leading to the pool.

The moment he pushed the door open, bright, almost blinding sunlight and an even stronger scent of chlorine rushed toward them. Some of the boys who had come out early were already standing by the wide pool, and the girls were also emerging in twos and threes from the exit of the women's locker room on the other side. Most of them were wearing the standard dark blue school swimsuits, their wet hair draped over their shoulders or tied in ponytails, gathering in the designated area by the pool while chatting and laughing with the unique vitality and slight shyness of youth.