Kiss The Boy [BL]

Renjiro let out a big but rough sigh, his shoulders sagging as he dropped. He didn't look at the other boy—just stared at the far wall.

Across the room, Ken remained seated, perched stuffy on the edge of every movement, calculating, cautious.

His eyes veered over to Renjiro and shot him up, scowling his face as he said, "I don't really want any roommates, but I've got no other choice."

Renjiro looked back at him. "Yeah, it shows," he said, "Believe me when I say this: I also don't like this idea. Not to mention you being my roommate—I'd rather sleep alone at a haunted room than here with you."

"Then, leave." Ken uttered.

Renjiro scoffed, but there was no humor in it. "Trust me, I would—if I had anywhere else to go."

Ken's jaw tensed. "Then shut up and don't act like this is harder for you than it is for me."

The silence that followed crackled with all the things neither of them dared to say. Renjiro leaned against the wall, folding his arms across his chest.

"This is going to be hell," he muttered.

Ken didn't respond right away. He just reached for the book on his nightstand, flipping it open with practiced indifference. "Then don't make it worse."

Renjiro exhaled before laying back down to finally rest. But his eyes seemed to stay open despite his hardest to shut it close. He noticed the reason—the light coming from the lamp. It cast long, skeletal shadows across the ceiling, flickering slightly, as if hesitant to hold its ground against the night.

He thought about turning it off, but the event that would follow felt heavier than the light itself. So he let it burn, a small defiance against whatever it was that kept his mind from sleeping. Ken seemed busy flipping the pages, the sound of paper crinkling added to his annoyance.

He turned his head slightly, squinting at its dull but bright glow. A quiet irritation stirred in his chest, not quite angry but enough to make him sit up halfway.

The lamp's soft hum against at hid ears now that he was listening. He sighed again, this time sharper, and reached out, pausing with his hand hovering above the switch of his lamp. He opened it—closed it.

As if trying to get Ken's attention. He purses his lips as he says, "I didn't take you for someone who's quite passionate with their hobby."

Ken finally glanced at him, a slow, measured look. "Better than you? That doesn't take much effort."

That only fueled Renjiro's irritation even more. He barked, "Can't you take a hint?! Turn off the goddamn light."

"..."

"It's already late, and you still want to indulge yourself, reading books at this hour...!"

A loud sound of a book being closed followed after. Ken glared at him once again—then reached over at the lamp's switch. It was finally dark once again inside the room.

Renjiro felt relieved. He could now go back to sleep—it was already tiring enough to deal with his roommate.

"Thanks." He said, but he didn't hear any response from Ken.

Early morning. Sunlight blares in from the curtains abundance, filling the room with an unforgiving brightness.

The alarm clock shrieked to life—a metallic trill, sharp and relentless, like nails tapping against glass. It pulsed in intervals, each ring dragging Renjiro further from the comfort of his half-sleep and into the noise of reality.

He groaned, covering his face with one arm, the warmth of the sun already stinging his eyelids. The alarm kept screaming, a cold, impersonal sound that seemed far too enthusiastic about the day.

The constant ringing of his alarm clock was not enough to wake Renjiro up—until a sharp clang of the bell echoed through the room, shaking the silence, jolting him awake from his peaceful sleep.

Renjiro quickly sat up, his heartbeat still catching up to the shock. He reached out and slapped the alarm off. "6:30."

His eyes widened.

Without a second thought, he threw off the covers and rushed to the nearby closet, yanking the door open with a loud creak. He grabbed his uniform and hastily threw it on.

He looked through the mirror—his uniform was neatly buttoned, but his hair stuck out in all directions, and dark circles under his eyes betrayed the restless night before.

He splashed water on his face, hoping it would clear the fog in his mind.

When he went out of the room, the bell still echoed faintly in his ears—its sharp clang a reminder that he was already behind.

It wasn't just any bell. It was that bell—the one that signaled morning assembly was about to start. Renjiro cursed under his breath.

He snatched his bag from the floor, barely zipping it closed, and gave himself one last glance in the mirror. Hair—still messy. Tie—crooked. But there was no time.

The bell rolled again, louder this time, as if warning him: "Move, or be left behind."

Renjiro sprinted out of the dorm building, counting every step he took whilst the time ran along with him.

Only a few minutes left before the first class began. His bag bounced, half-zipped, threatening to spill something with every stride.

The cold morning air bit at his cheeks, and his breath puffed out in frantic clouds.

"I got this.. almost there," he muttered, steps echoing on the cobbled path.

If he didn't make it in time, some professors would lock the door without hesitation—according to what Yugen said.

He dodged a group of slow-walking seniors, nearly tripping over someone's forgotten bike.

The bell tower loomed ahead, its hands edging ever closer to eight. He pushed harder, legs burning, lungs aching.

When he finally reached the campus, he jogged his way through the gate. Renjiro hit the brakes and bent over a little—hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. His pants grew rapid, shallow—as if he'd run a marathon, not just a few blocks.

Sweat clung to his forehead despite the cool morning breeze.

Not having much sleep didn't help either; his eyes stung, and the world felt like it pulsed around the edges.

The counrtyard was quiet, save for the faint hum of early chatter and the distant clang of the warning bell. He straightened up, chest still heaving, and glanced toward the main hall.

He walked casually to the huge open door, trying to steady his breathing as if he hadn't just sprinted across half the campus.

As he stepped inside, a figure appeared from the far end of the corridor.

Another student emerged out of nowhere—tall, slim, with a dark blazer slightly askew—paused mid-step.

Renjiro met the boy's eyes. For a moment, neither of them moved. The boy's expression flickered—surprise? Uncertainty?

It was as if he hadn't expected anyone else to be there at all.

A second later, the boy's face reset into neutrality, but Renjiro caught that split-second crack.

He didn't recognize him—or maybe he did? There was something familiar about the way he stood, alert, as if waiting for something.

The hallway felt colder than before.

The mysterious boy approached Renjiro, analyzing his movements. "What are you doing over there?" He asked, voice firm.

Renjiro immediately answered, "I'm a new student here! Am I late?"

The boy looked at him for a second before he pursed his lips and said, "No. You can go ahead and get in your room before class starts." His voice was even, though he didn't smile—like he was used to answering questions.

Renjiro smiled. He sighed, feeling relieved.

"Thanks," he said, offering a quick nod before heading down the hall.

He stopped in front of Room 3A, took another breath, feeling a bit skeptical going inside.

That was close. For a moment, he'd been sure he'd get scolded—or worse, sent to the office. But the boy didn't seem to care much. Just another face in the hallway.

A bell rang somewhere down the corridor. Students passed by in small clusters, chatting and laughing, their footsteps loud on the polished floor. Renjiro shifted his bag on his shoulder.

As he walked, he stole a glance at the classroom door and windows. He could hear the voices inside—some laughing, others chatting quickly, overlapping in a way that made it hard to tell what anyone was actually saying. It all sounded so casual, like everyone already knew each other.

Well, that's to be expected.

His palms were a little sweaty. New school. New people. New everything.

He hesitated for a second in front of the door. Through the narrow glass window, no one looked nervous. No one looked new.

Renjiro's stomach tightened. He wiped his sweaty hands on his pants, squared his shoulders, and told himself: "Just act like you belong. Fake it, if you have to."

With one final breath, he reached for the doorknob.

As he was about to enter, his eyes caught a silhouette of someone behind him. He turned his head to look and saw his homeroom teacher.

"Oh, good thing you're here now."

Renjiro bowed his head a little and smiled. Relieved that the teacher showed up at the right time.

Mr. Nakamura settled everyone. Students immediately reacted to his entry and returned to their seats with a mix of anticipation and curiosity.

The classroom, once buzzing with chatter, quieted in seconds.

Nakamura peered over his students, his eyes scanning the room before he pursed his lips. Then he spoke, voice clear and steady.

"We have a new student joining us today."

He turned his head slightly toward the door. "You can come in now," he said, his tone neutral but inviting.

Behind the door, Renjiro's heart raced. Then, without hesitation—at least on the outside—Renjiro opened the door.

Thirty heads turned toward him. The air felt thick, and the room seemed a little too quiet. He stepped forward, trying to keep his expression calm even though he could feel every pair of eyes studying him. Judging him.

"Go ahead." Nakamura said, "Tell them about yourself."

Renjiro nodded. Then, he proceeded to do his little introduction to the whole class.

"My name's Koizumi Renjiro. I used to live abroad, but I chose to continue my studies here in Japan."

He bowed his head. "Nice to meet you all. I hope we can all get along so, please take care of me."

Everyone seemed impressed as they whispered at each other whilst throwing glances in front—at Renjiro.

Soon, Nakamura assigned him to his seat—right next to the student sitting beside the window, at the back.

Renjiro obliged. When he reached his desk, he sat down quickly, trying to appear composed.

As he began unpacking his textbook and pencil case, he felt it—that prickling sensation of eyes on him.

He glanced up briefly. And found his deskmate, staring at him with curious eyes.

Renjiro quickly shot him a smile as though greeting the boy. "Hello," he said, "Nice to meet you."

But unfortunately, the boy seemed uninterested in getting to know each other. He bowed his head briefly and turned to look at the window.

Okay, maybe he's shy.

Renjiro thought to himself, as he found the boy's action quite adorable. He gave a soft chuckle, almost hiding his face with his palm.

Later that day, at lunchbreak, unlike other students who went straight to the cafeteria for food—Renjiro took a u-turn to walk around the campus.

He remembered how Yugen toured him the first day, but he felt different now that he's alone. He's supposed to be eating, but right now, he'd rather enjoy a quiet walk around the long corridor.

As he was about to take another turn, he heard loud voices just an inch away from where he was standing.

He froze mid-step.

Just down the corridor, a group of female students had gathered, voices buzzing with excitement. They were curling around someone, blocking Renjiro's view, but the energy was unmistakable. Laughter, giggles, the occasional squeal.

Whoever it was, they were used to attention.

Curiosity tugged at him. He wanted to see who it was.

Slowly, he took a few steps and drifted toward the group. As he got closer, the crowd shifted—and through a small gap, he caught a glimpse.

Crimson hair. Calm eyes. That familiar, effortless smirk.

Yugen.

Renjiro blinked his eyes as though surprised to see Yugen being surrounded by girls alone.

Has he always been this popular?

Then, Renjiro's eyes widened as Yugen shifted his gaze toward him. Without missing a beat, he saw the boy moving away from the group—he's coming closer now—toward Renjiro's direction.

"Ren!" A soft voice called out. It rang like music to Renjiro's ears.

He beamed at Yugen. "Hey there."

"You could've called out to me, y'know." Yugen said, shifting his weight to his side.

Renjiro grinned mischievously, "I can't possibly do that. You seem to be having fun over there, mister popular," he said with a teasing tone.

Yugen nudged him by the arm and muttered, "Popular my ass."

"What? Are you not?" Renjiro asked.

"I'm not popular like you said," Yugen explained, "They were only passing their concerns 'cause I'm the student council president."

Renjiro paused, staring at Yugen's undoubtedly handsome face. His eyes laced with suspicion and doubt.

"Yup. That's definitely something mister popular would say."

Yugen glanced at him with contempt. "What?"

Renjiro chuckled. Before he stopped and thought of what Yugen had mentioned just now. "Wait, did you just say: student council president?"

Yugen looked at him with a straight face and answered, "Yeah, I am," his tone was sharp and firm. There was no hint of any lie in his words.

Renjiro blinked.

The air around him seemed to pause.

He let out a dry chuckle, expecting Yugen to crack a grin and say, "Just kidding." But Yugen's expression remained stone cold, his eyes locked on Renjiro's with a seriousness that made the air feel heavier.

Renjiro's smile faded. "Wait... what?"

His mind scrambled to make sense of it. Student council president? That didn't match the quiet, laid-back guy who gave him a campus tour. Who skipped assemblies and rarely spoke unless spoken to.

His throat tightened. "But... you never even—"

Yugen crossed his arms, the crowd of girls still lingering a few steps behind, whispering among themselves.

"I don't like the attention," he said coolly, "but I do what I have to."

Renjiro's heart thudded. It was like looking at a completely different person. His casual, easygoing friend now stood taller—commanding, distant.

What else does he not know about Yugen?

A strange chill mix of excitement crept into Renjiro's chest. He just realized there were things he didn't know about Yugen.

And here I thought I knew you better than anyone else.

Sure, people changed as time went by. Even he himself has changed. Just like Yugen, there were also some things that his best friend didn't learn about him. And that is—the fact that he's a certified Fudanshi.

Yeah, I shouldn't really complain about being clueless about his life.

Renjiro thought to himself. There was really no need to question Yugen about it—best choice is to let go of the thought.

They both walked around the campus, casually chatting about a lot of things.

For instance, Renjiro mentioned what happened last night. He told Yugen all the details, not missing out on anything—it was a surprisingly thorough account.

"Can you believe it?!" Renjiro cried as he remembered the things that happened that night.

Yugen sighed, arms crossed. "I see," he said with a convinced tone, "And I'm guessing that's the reason you were almost late earlier."

Renjiro perked up. "That's right!"