Chapter Text
Contrary to popular belief, Nagi was not entirely irresponsible.
He was lazy, yes. He couldn’t (and wouldn’t) deny that. He had no motivation to do anything; to have hobbies, to go to cram school, do extracurriculars, or anything really. Anything besides playing mobile games took a lot of energy that he either didn’t have or didn’t want to expend. He had no desire to do anything and no wish to have anything done.
However, he was self-sufficient—has been ever since his parents got promotions and bought him his own apartment at fifteen. It wasn’t really a choice, more of something that was forced onto him; (when was anything not?) At first, he was overjoyed. There would be no more early mornings of bustling noise and loud cooking, no more nagging to clean his room, no distractions from his inner world. He was free to laze around and do the one thing he wanted; nothing at all.
However, he quickly learned that living alone was also a hassle, and his naivety had shielded him from such.
The first thing he learned was the amount of effort and energy chores took, specifically cooking. There were no more leftovers magically spawning in the fridge, no more of his mother’s yummy tonkatsu and homemade onigiri. The next thing he learned was that air fryers were a gift from God.
That eventually took too much energy, too, though. It wasn’t long until he elected that he would just buy all his meals from the convenience store.
Nagi blinked as he looked up at the ceiling. Right, the convenience store. He looked to the side, squinting his eyes at his digital alarm clock. The white numbers and letters stared back at him. It was the first of the month. Rent was due, and the utility bills were due the week after.
Nagi groaned and rubbed his eyes.
That was the other thing he learned. Paying bills meant he had to go to the convenience store. That meant first, he had to get dressed. And brush his teeth. And go to the ATM because they only took cash. (That was the other, other thing he learned.)
He sighed. He looked up at the ceiling again. He remembered seeing in a TV show that some countries had online billing and drying machines. (Oh, right. He had to do his laundry, too, and it took forever to hang and dry. That was the other, other, other thing he learned…)
He learned a lot the first couple months he lived alone. If only Japan had those luxuries. He’d never go outside then.
It took him a bit to leave for the convenience store. He spent an hour waking his brain up (looking up at the ceiling), another hour contemplating if he really wanted to go outside right now (looking at the wall instead), then the next two hours trying to find something warm to wear (digging through his unfolded and dirty laundry). Since when did all of his pants give him high waters, and since when were they all dirty?
He ended up skipping brushing his teeth. It was nearly four in the evening when he finally left the apartment.
He waited in line for the ATM, a foot away from the person at the machine. Nagi slipped his hands into his hoodie pocket and shivered, hunching his shoulders. His tummy rumbled at him. He ought to buy something from the convenience store after he pays his bills.
It’s a while before it’s finally his turn. He sluggishly withdrew enough to cover rent, utilities, a single onigiri, and extra cash for some pants. Then, he dragged his feet to the convenience store and dragged his feet again to the cashier to pay for all three.
His stomach made a ferocious sound at him again, protesting for food.
“Hungry?” the girl smiled. She tilted her head and looked up at him, blinking rapidly.
Nagi blinked at her, his face blank. He simply handed her the cash, his paper bills, and the onigiri. “I’m here to pay,” he said, an upward lilt to his words. His voice cracked, something that was becoming increasingly common. He inwardly cringed at the sound.
The girl just nodded and dropped her smile.
It’s a quick exchange though—too quick. Nagi nearly didn’t register the sound of the receipt printing and her handing him his change. He dropped the coins on the counter and ground. He had to hunch over to pick them up one by one; some off the counter, most off the cold tile floor. He took his time when he noticed it was raining outside.
He ate his onigiri underneath the awning, his teeth chattering in between bites. His looked straight ahead, unfocused. Goosebumps rose on his legs underneath his gym shorts.
He’d have to buy more pants another day. He sighed and stood under the awning for a while, clutching his empty onigiri wrapper. Of course, it would rain today, the day he was out of clean pants. He forgot to check the weather before he left. Just his luck.
The rain pattered against the awning. Pitter patter, pitter patter.
“Pitter patter, pitter patter,” he mumbled softly. He watched the gentle stream of water dribble into the street gutter across the narrow street.
He stepped a little closer to the edge of the awning, glancing up to ensure he was still covered. His eyes traveled downward to the puddle he stood over. A tired looking boy stared back at him. He had messy, uncombed hair and a prominent nose. His cheeks were still full, and his eyes were childishly round.
Huh. The boy’s nose was bigger now. His hand reached up to touch it, shaking slightly from the chilly air. There was a lump on his throat. He reached down to run his fingers against it. He swallowed. The lump bobbed.
Huh.
A faintly deep voice suddenly called out of him. “Are you waiting for the rain to stop?”
His eyes darted up. A boyish face peered at him, holding a clear umbrella. He looked conspicuous in his expensive looking clothes and purple hair.
Nagi eyed the unfamiliar crest on his blazer. Uniform–must be. Nagi glanced away. “Yes,” he said back.
The rain knocked on the awning, louder.
“Huh?” The boy cocked his head to the side.
Nagi’s eyes widened. “Yes,” he croaked out, more forcefully this time. His voice cracked again. He curled his toes in his sneakers and clutched his onigiri wrapper.
God.
The boy smiled and rubbed his nose. He stepped halfway under the awning, holding the umbrella out a little in front of him. “Do you live nearby?”
Nagi nodded this time.
“I’ll walk you.”
“Oh.” Nagi blinked. He glanced around and pocketed his hands and his onigiri wrapper. The gears slowly turned in his head.
A silence hung in the air. They stared at each other.
The boy slightly tilted the top of the umbrella towards Nagi.
“Oh,” Nagi repeated. His eyes lit up. “Thanks.”
The boy’s eyes crinkled with his smile. He laughed a little. Nagi wasn’t sure what he was laughing at.
“Where do you live at?” he said.
Nagi swallowed thickly. He looked down at his feet and paused. In his pockets, he rubbed his thumbs together, the wrapper crinkling softly.
“Um… I dunno,” he admitted.
“Huh?”
The wrapper crinkled a little louder. Nagi cringed.
“Uh. I know the route home,” he said tersely, “It’s near here.”
A pause.
“I just moved here,” he explained.
It’d been a couple months since he moved into his apartment, but he still hadn’t committed his exact address to memory. What was the point if the only places he went were school and the same convenience store? He didn’t want to explain that though.
The boy nodded his head, laughing again. “I see.” He tilted his head to the road, eyes glinting. “Show me! I’ll walk you.”
Nagi exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He pressed his lips into a thin line and stepped underneath the boy’s umbrella.
Together, they stepped onto the narrow road. Nagi watched his feet as he walked, trying his best not to tangle his feet with the boy’s. He dodged the puddles like it was a game, taking little steps and tiny hops. It’s hard not to stumble.
“Sorry,” the boy said lightheartedly, “It’s smaller than it looks!”
Nagi glanced up at the umbrella. His nose lightly bumped into the cold metal, prompting the boy to raise the umbrella and apologize again.
“Ah. It’s okay.” He looked back down and watched his steps again. His teeth chattered.
He led the boy into the alleyway shortcut he always took, shuffling a little ahead once they made it underneath the long awning. When he reached the edge of the alleyway awning, he glanced over his shoulder and waited for the boy. After the boy caught up to him, they walked together again.
“You’ve got long legs!” He said, “You walk fast!”
Nagi widened his eyes. He slowed down, glancing at the boy’s legs and walking in tandem with him. The boy was a bit shorter than him, just shy of his shoulders.
“You’re… really tall. Are you Japanese?”
Nagi glanced at him and nodded. He looked back down at his feet. He must’ve grown. Was that why his pants weren’t fitting anymore?
The boy’s voice dragged him out from his train of thought. His almond eyes lingered on Nagi’s big, round eyes. “Oh, no. I mean full. Are you full Japanese?” He leaned in.
Nagi paused, locking eyes briefly with the boy. It was only a second before he looked away and hesitantly shook his head. He pursed his lips and inhaled, bracing himself. He looked down again.
“Wow. Cool!” The boy smiled at him.
Nagi sighed in relief. He rounded the corner and made sure the boy was able to comfortably trail next to him.
“So, where you from?”
“Kanagawa,” Nagi said neutrally.
“No, no. Where are you really from? Like, your family?” The boy leaned in again.
“Um, my mom is Japanese. My father is…” he trailed off. His eyes squinted as his mind blanked. “I don’t remember.”
The boy’s lips parted slightly. “Ah, really?” His head tilted, and his brows raised a flash.
“No,” he said quietly. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, fiddling with the onigiri wrapper in his pocket again. He never thought to ask him.
The only sound between them was the rain hammering against the boy’s umbrella. The boy huddled closer to Nagi. The proximity made Nagi hunch his shoulders together. Raindrops splattered against Nagi’s ankles, making him wince as they dampened his socks and skin.
“Is he white?” The boy eventually said. He chuckled with his guess.
Nagi’s eyes widened. “Yes.”
The boy nodded slowly, humming. There was no disdain or shock evident on his face (which Nagi is thankful for).
“You’re not much of a talker, are you?” The boy looked at him, a toothy grin on his lips.
Nagi’s breath hitched. He averted his gaze, unsure of what to say. The rain filled the tense pause. He lifted his eyes, relief washing over him when he spotted his apartment building in the near distance.
“It’s that one.” He pointed at the building.
The boy nodded. “Okay.”
They walked the rest of the way in silence. Nagi’s socks and shoes progressively became soaked as the puddles grew deeper and the rain struck harder. Despite the boy’s voice not being entirely deep, Nagi is acutely aware of the boy’s voice being lower than his. He reached up to touch his throat again.
When they reached the overhang for Nagi’s apartment building, the boy fastened his umbrella closed and gave Nagi a smile. His head tilted, but the corners of his eyes didn't crinkle this time.
“Um. Thank you,” Nagi said. He paused for a moment before bowing graciously at the boy. His eyes shamefully avoided the boy’s expensive, soaked loafers. The ends of his khakis were damp.
The boy chuckled and bowed back, deeper.
Nagi’s throat grew dry, and his cheeks quickly heated up. “U-Uhh…” He unpocketed his hands, his hands hanging midair as he stared at the boy with wide eyes. He bowed again, hands flat on his thighs, his body awkwardly postured at a ninety degree angle.
He looked up at the boy with red cheeks.
The boy threw his head back with his laugh, his eyes fluttering shut. He held his tummy and shook his head. He waved his hands lightly before he comically bent his body down, hanging himself low enough that his small ponytail hung completely upside down.
Nagi balked and shook his head, bewildered.
Afterward, the boy just looked back up at him and laughed, “You’re funny, man!”
“O-Oh…” he mumbled. Nagi’s cheeks felt so hot that he nearly forgot he was cold.
They were both silent for a while. This time, Nagi maintained eye contact with the boy, only wavering when the boy deepened his smile and tilted his head. The boy did a lot of head tilting. He kind of reminded him of a puppy. Nagi felt his heart race in his chest.
“Well, it was nice walking with you…”
Nagi’s eyes widened. “Nagi,” he said. He nodded his head.
The boy nodded slowly, a smile still on his lips. His eyes twinkled, and he tucked a lock of his overgrown bangs behind his ear. “...Reo,” he said casually. He bowed back.
Reo.
Nagi’s breath hitched, his heart jumping. “Reo…”
“Nagi,” Reo echoed back coolly.
He looked into Reo’s eyes as though he were scrutinizing him. They’re a nice shade of purple; just like lilac. The warmth from his cheeks began to spread. A foreign, warm feeling filled his chest.
“I better get going,” Reo eventually said. He glanced over his shoulder, sighing at the rain. “Not supposed to be out, technically.”
Nagi’s shoulders deflated, and the warmth quickly turned cold. He clutched the sides of his gym shorts, eyes flitting around as he tried to make sense of the sudden change. His eyes fell to the ground.
“Oh… Okay,” he said quietly.
“You have a nice day, Nagi!” Reo waved enthusiastically. He beamed at him, brighter than a summer sun.
Nagi moved his hand back and forth in a small wave. The weight in his chest lightened somewhat at the sight of Reo’s smile. He watched Reo unfasten his umbrella and trot into the heavy downpour. Before Reo disappeared into the alleyway shortcut, he launched himself up, splashing dramatically into the initial large puddle that soaked their shoes. He whirled around to look back.
Then, he closed his umbrella. Nagi gasped, and he flinched at the sight of the heavy rain, completely soaking Reo. His eyes grew wider at the sound of Reo’s laughter howling in the distance.
Reo only waved his hands maniacally. He smoothed his wet bangs behind his ears before waving again. “Bye, Nagi!” he yelled. He hopped, splashing in the puddle again.
Nagi’s mouth just hung open as he stared at Reo. It took him a moment to fully process.
Reo waved again before he held his umbrella up.
“Wh-What..!” Nagi squawked, voice cracking. He cupped his hands suddenly, calling out, “Bye, Reo!”
He’d already disappeared into the alleyway.
The final thing he learned was that, other than the peaceful silence of the house, he had never noticed his parent’s absence. It wasn’t until they offered him that apartment that he realized they had been gone for two weeks; without so much of a word or goodbye. He still didn’t notice his parent’s absence afterwards; not after he packed his things alone, and not after he unpacked and moved into his apartment. Alone.
But he did notice that something was missing. What it was, he wasn’t sure. Thinking about it made him tired though, so he doesn’t ever think about it.
His steps were shuffled and slow. Slow into the building and slow up the steps. Slow to his door and slow into his apartment.
With a weary sigh, he slipped his shoes off and went straight to his room. Immediately, he flopped onto his bed, landing belly first. Upon impact, his body bounced gently against the mattress. He buried his face deeper into his duvet, huffing a sigh against it. He laid there unmoving, his long, lanky legs hanging off the edge.
He lost track of how long he hung off the bed. He allowed himself to lay beached like a whale for several minutes. When his muffled breaths and sighs made his face feel too squished and hot against the blanket, he lazily rolled over. He hung his arm across his tummy, blinking up at the ceiling. He sighed as though he had exerted strenuous effort.
He wondered if Reo made it home safe. Would he get in trouble with his parents?
Reo…
He grunted and rolled over again. This time, he reached for his phone and opened up Google. His fingers danced across the screen, typing in his name.
A king. Lion. Wise.
Nagi screwed his lips to the side. An image of Reo’s unruly, uneven bangs appeared in his head. Nagi closed his eyes, mustering up his focus. Reo’s eyes twinkled at him, and he tucked his bangs back. The boy’s smile flashed like dazzling jewels.
Reo’s hair turned wet now. He was splashing in the puddle again. Nagi imagined him spinning around.
His cheeks gradually turned warm. He locked his phone and set it down, crawling underneath the covers.
He repeated his routine the next month. After withdrawing the same amount of cash for his bills and morning onigiri, he deposited his extra cash he withdrew the month prior. In line, he ordered sweatpants without much thought or consideration.
What size was he? He glanced down at his waist. His sweatpants were more snug than before, but they still fit around his waist. He scrolled through the app again, half-mindedly swiping through multiple listings. He swiped away from any listing with a number measurement, exhaling audibly with each disappointment.
Was he supposed to measure his waist for this? This was such a hassle.
By the time it was his turn to pay at the counter, he had settled on ordering three of the same pairs of sweatpants and a pair of beige khakis, similar to Reo’s. The thought of the strange boy made the corners of his lips twitch upward.
He shook his head and finalized his order as the cashier counted his change.
Online shopping was so much better. If only there was a way to pay bills online… Nagi always revisited that fantasy.
He made his way out of the convenience store, holding his onigiri. It was raining again. This time, Nagi was wearing his too-short pants, so he didn’t shiver as he stood underneath the awning. He watched the rain drizzle as he waited. He wasn’t sure what he was waiting for. He had his umbrella.
The rain gradually grew into a moderate shower. His dull, grey eyes looked out at the people beneath their umbrellas, avoiding the road puddles. His eyes scanned each face, each head of hair.
That feeling of absence—of something missing—still lingered.
He sighed and hung his head. He looked down at the boy in the puddle. The boy’s eyes were downcast, and he held a half-eaten onigiri.
He swallowed, locking eyes with the boy. Their eyes flickered, blinking before narrowing in distaste.
What a pitiful look.
He undid his umbrella, holding it above his head. Before he set out, he tossed his onigiri in the trash, a choice that he immediately regretted the moment he stepped into his apartment.
His tummy chastised him. Nagi rubbed himself soothingly, and he sighed. Man. He should not have thrown it away.
He opened his fridge. A mostly empty fridge stared back at him. The only contents inside were melon sodas and pudding, the sight mocking him.
Nagi, silly Nagi! You’re so hungry! And you don’t even want to eat us, Nagi!
Nagi chewed on the inside of his cheek and ignored the disapproving rumble of his tummy. His shoulders sunk with his sigh. He was sighing a lot nowadays. After a brief contemplation, he opened his fridge again.
No, he wasn’t in the mood for pudding.
He shut the fridge, his hand lingering on the handle.
He opened it again.
The cheap pudding glared back at him.
He promptly shut it, turning away. He didn’t want pudding at all. But he was so hungry—always hungry nowadays. He dragged himself to the pantry to retrieve the same ramen he always ate (and the same ramen that gave him an upset tummy ache). The thought of having to cook anything made him yawn. Tears pricked at his eyes.
Microwaving it would suffice. That way, he didn’t have to stand before the stovetop and cook it. He could lay down.
He popped the ramen in the microwave before he sprawled across his bed. For six minutes, he closed his eyes.
If only food spawned in front of him. If only he could never feel hungry at all.
Every day, Nagi spent a great deal of time browsing the internet and YouTube. Usually, he would scroll through until he found an anime or video to watch, but he couldn’t bring himself to want either. His mind kept wandering back to his increased hunger and the rate at which he kept outgrowing his pants.
Every year, he was outgrowing his pants, and he never thought to stop and think about why. It just wasn’t something he ever did.
Now that he was thinking about it though, his shirts and sweaters were also becoming less baggy. He had to buy new shoes a couple months ago, which was a pain to figure out. It was only getting worse. The irritating cracking of his voice was becoming more frequent. Scarily enough, the once sparse hair between his legs was becoming coarse and spreading like a plague. It felt like everything was growing.
To add to the burn, he was taller than everyone his age now. Too many people were pointing it out. Nagi almost sucked his teeth at the thought. He was being subjected to too many jokes during small talk, too. He didn’t like that.
Girls were also talking to him more. Not at school, of course. Everyone avoided him at school. But on the street and at the convenience store, if he lingered in an aisle too long or looked at the female cashier for too long, they would talk to him. They were more enthusiastic with the small talk than before.
He’s not particularly fond of that either. He didn’t usually enjoy talking to anyone.
At one point, the curiosity became too much, and he measured his height with a tape measure. He stood next to it, looking at the boy in the mirror. Roughly 180 centimeters.
Nagi nearly scoffed at the number.
He looked back at the boy in the mirror, his eyes traveling downward until he reached the drawstrings of his sweatpants. He stiffened before shaking his head, shoving the idea out of his head.
Stupid! Weird! Gross!
He did it anyway—away from the mirror’s view to keep his dignity intact.
That time, he was satisfied with himself.
The measuring became a recurring activity for him, and Nagi did not panic about his strange predicament until he kept waking up with wet pants.
He remembered the first night clearly. He woke up in a daze, despite sleeping for ten hours, longer than he usually did. He tried to shut his eyes and sleep the feeling off, but the sunlight kept peeking out of his blinds. When he rolled over to bury his face in his pillow, a damp sensation struck him.
At that, he had scrambled awake. Had he peed himself in his sleep? That was more than a hassle. That was a drag.
He had considered rolling out of bed and washing himself, but he was so sleepy that he just shoved both his pants and briefs off, dropped them next to the side of his bed, and shut his eyes again. He did this the next couple times and tried not to think about it. A bedwetting problem at fifteen? Yikes.
When it increased in frequency, he finally decided enough was enough. He had to get to the bottom of it. Nagi grabbed his phone.
He had to be dying. That was the only possibility. Any moment, the pain would surely kick in. Dying suddenly, he didn’t really fear that. The act of dying was natural. And if he died, he wouldn’t have to worry about bills, school, or getting a job one day. No more mandatory convenience store trips. No more begrudging early mornings spent getting ready for school. No more unending hunger either. Dying wasn’t entirely bad.
However, if it was painful—drawn out even—Nagi would freak. He didn’t even like papercuts!
There was a suspicious lump appearing in his throat, too. Cancer?
Dread washed over him, and his tummy lurched. Oh God.
I have to have cancer. He put his face in his hands, then feverishly picked up his phone to scour the internet for signs of throat cancer. When he saw that the next sign was a change in voice, he stared at his phone, petrified.
He was only fifteen. Throat cancer? That had to be painful. His heart sped up, only frightening him more. Perhaps he had to accept his untimely death? Was it hitting now; his inevitable doom? Maybe he would drop dead?
He placed a hand over his heart. “One, two, three…” he counted softly. Another hand clutched his tummy, trying to chase away the forming nausea.
Elevated heart rate. Another Google search.
He shook his head. Okay, maybe he was just scared. That was alright. Anyone would be scared of cancer. The path of least resistance was to accept it. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath.
“Accept…” he mumbled.
Nothing. He tried again.
“Accept…”
Yeah, that wasn’t working.
“Oh, no…!” Nagi whimpered. His nausea traveled upward.
In his horror-stricken state, he looked down at his lap. Right, his bedwetting problem. That was another symptom, too. He shook his head frantically, scrambling backward. The back of his head hit his headboard, and he gasped. His hand shot up to rub it.
What if he also had… bladder cancer? Or, worst of all, penis cancer?! Did he have a tumor growing down there, too?
He snatched his phone and went back to searching.
Only then does he realize that he’s being stupid. He shuddered before sighing loudly in relief. He laid himself down across his bed, letting his fear wash away.
He was just growing up.
He browsed a little more. Was growing up supposed to be this much of a hassle?
A couple minutes turned into an hour. An hour turned into two hours. He learned about many things that boggled his mind, all of which made him feel more inconvenienced than in awe. He’d have to deal with everything until he was either sixteen or seventeen. On top of that, there was no way of telling when it’d end. So, if everything proceeded normally, he had around two more years to go, but there was a chance it’d take longer.
He couldn’t decide what was the most inconvenient part: having to buy new clothes and shoes or having to deal with the wet pants.
He didn’t remember having any… strange dreams. He never dreamed—not when he was awake, and not when he was asleep. He looked down at his lap again.
Sexual desire was entirely foreign to him, too. He never felt the urge to look at girls ever. Or ecchi and hentai. He wasn’t even old enough to buy the two, not that he wanted to. He never even had a crush on a girl before. No one ever interested him, and he couldn’t remember anyone that was ever interested in him. He sighed.
He opened an incognito tab and ogled for a bit. Ah, okay. He saw the appeal now. Now, it made sense.
He looked down, blinking slowly.
He felt warm again.
There were lots of warm feelings he sometimes felt, but he spent a lot of time with that specific warm feeling. Sometimes, it’d creep on him randomly; the warmth. He’d be going about his day—eating, playing games, showering—and he’d feel it. Other times, he’d provoke it, whether it be through looking online or just letting his mind wander.
He found that the desire waxed and waned. But it was especially strong in the mornings and at night. There were times he even woke up with the warmth.
Nagi didn’t experiment with it fully until he had a hard time going to sleep one night. Before, he’d rub idly, trying to simulate what was in the ecchi and hentai he'd been reading, but his wrist would always get tired. Each time the warmth returned though, it felt stronger, more prominent.
It was impossible to ignore that night, but the feeling went away pretty fast once he kept at it. He fantasized about nothing, only embracing how nice the warmth felt now. It was only a minute of rubbing until he felt himself tense and buck. He’d sped his hand up, firmly grabbing himself and squeezing his eyes shut.
He eventually gasped softly, his breathing labored and clipped as he kept going. He finished on his tummy with a whimper, clamping a hand over his mouth as he shuddered.
So it did feel as nice as it looked in the pictures.
This must be what he was waking up to before. He never thought to look at his pants. Yeah, this definitely had to be it.
After he caught his breath and rested, Nagi cleaned himself up and curled under his blankets. His chest steadily rose and fell. That night, he slept soundly.
The next morning, he woke up and did it again. He had to chase that euphoric feeling again. That warmth was nothing like he ever felt before. It was even better than sleep, even better than a hot shower.
It didn’t arrive as quickly as it did before though, something that immediately frustrated Nagi. He held himself, ignoring the cramping in his wrist and ignoring the tense, unconscious furrow of his brows. He moved with more intention.
Up and down. Up and down.
Nothing. And he’d been at it for more than a minute now. His head lolled back, and he gazed up at the ceiling as he kept at it. He shut his eyes, finally letting his mind wander. Then, a heat—the same heat he felt before the euphoria last night—built in his tummy.
Triumph welled up in his chest. He moved with more conviction, his breathing quickening. Finally. He sighed softly, brows knitted in concentration as he pictured multiple images in his head.
Soft breasts. Wet.
He parted his lips. Some in his face would be nice.
The thought had him gasping, and the euphoria came to him in a flash. Like last time, he shuddered and whimpered.
Now was the part that was a hassle. He had to clean himself up.
It wasn’t long until it became a routine. Nagi would wake up, he’d chase the feeling. He had a hard time falling asleep? Time to chase the feeling. It came to him randomly? Might as well take care of it and welcome the feeling. He was bored? Well, he could pass the time and call back the feeling.
Eventually, he was able to find and put a name to it. Masturbation.
He decided very quickly that he liked masturbating. It felt good, just like a warm hug.
Nagi’s first day of high school was uneventful, not that he expected anything more. He’d managed to get himself into a prestigious one, somehow passed his entrance exam with flying colors.
Over the Winter, he had come to the conclusion that he had to make a lot of money. Oddly enough, the incessant nagging from last year’s teacher worked. They were right. He did need a good job. Not because he wanted one though. No, he never dreamed, and especially not of labor. He needed to achieve a slow, lazy life. He had a lot of video games to play, a lot of manga to read, and a lot of food to eat.
The only way to do that was to make a lot of money and get a good job. And to make accomplishing that easier, he had to go to a nice school. He didn’t put a lot of thought into deciding which one.
His teacher recommended Hakuho. So, he chose Hakuho.
You are brilliant, Nagi.
A different kind of warm feeling had filled his chest when he said that. This warm feeling was also unfamiliar. His cheeks heated up, and he remembered rubbing the back of his neck and being unable to look his teacher in the eye.
You just need to put in some effort.
Yeah, he supposed. Wasn’t the first time he’d been told that. He got ready to tune out.
I believe in you, Seishiro. I really do.
Ah, that was new. Nagi had to excuse himself not long after. His cheeks had gotten too hot, and his heart kept pounding.
Anytime he recalled that moment, he felt the same way. He always clutched his chest. Was he happy? Being praised? Someone calling him that? Not Nagi, but Seishiro.
It made him tired to think about it too much, so he didn’t. Nothing good came out of too much thinking.
He spaced out for most of his first day of high school, drifting from class to class. The memory of his teacher revisited him when he noticed how excited everyone was to be there—at Hakuho. He looked around, his eyes slow and sleepy, as his new teacher boasted.
You should be proud to be here.
Nagi felt empty at those words. It was just a school. What point was there to place such emphasis on mediocre, boring things, let alone something mandatory like going to school?
The real highlight of his day was his phone ringing. It snapped him out of his daze. He’d been running on autopilot, playing the same battle royale game he always played. The shrill notification made him rub his eyes.
His mother was calling him the day he began high school. Well, the night of. Still the day of, technically. For some reason, Nagi’s heart sped up a little. Usually, he let the phone ring or he played his game while he talked to her, but this time, he answered it.
“Hi, mom,” he said. He put the phone on speaker, but he remained paused on the menu screen of his game.
“Sweetie! Honey! How are you?” Her warm voice said.
A smile somehow found its way to his lips. “I’m okay.”
“What are you up to?”
Nagi looked to the side, then back at his phone. He tapped the screen idly, avoiding any buttons. “I was playing.”
“Oh, really? What game?”
“PUBG.”
“Cool. Nice.”
A pause. Nagi could hear shuffling on the other end.
“So. Anything new?”
It was Nagi’s turn to pause. He held his breath, thinking. Lots of things were new, a good amount of which he didn’t want to share, not with his mom at least. But. Things were new.
“Um. Not really,” he decided. His voice cracked. He rubbed his neck.
He could hear the smile in his mom’s sly voice. An unfamiliar softness coated it. “Aw…”
Nagi raised his brows a little. “Huh?”
“Your voice.”
“Ah…” Nagi swallowed, looking away from his phone.
“Have you been able to buy new clothes? I transferred some money for you.”
Nagi nodded. He was silent before he realized his mom couldn’t see him. “Yes.”
“Good, good.” She sighed audibly. “…Anything else new?”
Nagi waited expectantly. He looked at the date on his digital clock.
“Nothing?” she said.
His smile faltered. He screwed his lips to the side. “Well, I started school.”
“Oh, really? That’s nice.”
He waited again.
“High school,” he clarified.
“Mm.” She only hummed.
After a long pause filled with more shuffling on the other line, he finally added, “I go to Hakuho now.”
“Oh, really? That’s new.”
Then, nothing.
Nagi swallowed, sitting in the silence with her. “It’s… uh, a good school. I’m gonna get a good job,” he declared. He prepared for the signature question adults always asked him—what job?—and held his breath.
“That’s always good.”
He exhaled. His lips pressed into a thin line. “I wanna make a lot of money,” he said matter-of-factly.
Another hum and some shuffling emitted from the other end.
“Then, I can retire early.”
More shuffling. His mom didn’t say anything.
Nagi finally stopped. He sat up slowly, staring down at his phone. His menu screen stared back at him.
“Do you think I can do it?” His voice was small.
“Huh?”
“Do you believe in me?”
The shuffling stopped. He imagined his mom adjusting her phone on her shoulder, the way she always did when she was thinking during her work calls—when he used to live with her. He could see her knitted brow and frown in his head. Nagi always remembered that look.
“What?” she said.
Nagi shrunk into himself. His shoulders fell, and he glanced around. His heart sped up more, and his tummy turned.
“Is everything alright?”
Nagi blinked rapidly. “Y-Yeah…”
“Oh, okay.” A slight pause from his mom. “Is… there a reason you’re asking me this?”
Nagi felt himself sink. “No…?” His voice cracked again.
“Oh...” His mom sighed. “Okay. Well, y’know. Just keep doing what you’re doing, and it’ll work out.”
Nagi sat with the feeling, replaying her words. His throat bobbed unevenly as he swallowed, and he held his tummy. His lips twitched.
“Oh! Right, I remember now!” she suddenly said.
Nagi’s eyes widened.
She let out a laugh before sighing in content. “The reason I called you.” There was shuffling again, a cupboard slamming, then a clink that sounded like dishware. “I wanted to talk to you about your–ah, grocery bill.”
Nagi laid down on the bed. He finally exited the menu and queued into a lobby with a sigh. His eyes were cast down.
“Make sure you’re careful about how much you’re spending. I noticed you’re spending a lot at the convenience store. The one near your apartment… Are you buying food from there?”
Nagi grunted.
“Well, the convenience store is really expensive, baby. It’s not exactly the most affordable place for food.” The sound of something pouring on the other end emitted in between the sound of his game. “It’s just there to be, y’know, convenient. What are you buying from there?”
“Onigiri.” He accepted the match, waiting for his character to load in.
More clinking. “If you want onigiri, the grocery store usually has rice and seaweed for way cheaper. And salmon.” She swallowed something, then spoke again, “I know you like your salmon.”
“Don’t wanna cook.” He pivoted his player around.
“It’s always good to be responsible though,” she said.
Silence on Nagi’s end.
His mom sighed, “Alright…”
Nagi didn’t notice his mom’s silence. He shot at random enemies, the sound of his game filling his ears. He eliminated one, two, then many before his mom finally said something again. He almost forgot the call was still going.
“Well, I’ll leave you to your game, sweetheart. I’ll have your dad call, okay?”
“‘Kay.” He killed another guy.
“Goodnight,” she said, “Miss you.”
“Miss you," he mumbled back weakly.
The phone dinged three times, signaling the end. Nagi rolled over and sighed, focusing fully on his game now. He chased away the despondent feeling in his tummy and chest, playing until he finally drifted off to sleep.
His father never called.