Out of Sight, Out of Mind

published: November 26th, 2024.

• Rating: T
• Category: M/M
• Relationship: Kirishima Keima/Ryuugamine Kiyoshi
• Content warnings: Homophobia, heteronormativity.

"I'm back, mom," Keima called from the entrance, slipping off his shoes and replacing them with slippers.

His mother rushed to his encounter. "Thank you, Kei-chan." She took the bag from her son's hand, noticing a rolled up magazine in his other. The spine from boy's manga magazines were much thicker, she thought.

"Dinner will be ready soon. Help me set the table." She scurried back to the kitchen, her son following right behind. He dropped the pocket change on the furniture beside the entrance and threw the magazine face down on the table, then opened one of the cabinets above the kitchen sink.

Keima collected the dishes after they finished eating. His mother remained at the table sipping hot tea.

"It this what boys these are into?" She asked, taking the magazine and turning it around. The cover was a pretty girl with large eyes surrounded by splashes of nauseating colorful text that made her eyes hurt.

Washing the dishes, Keima visibly flinched, "Ah-I, dunno. Kiyoshi is there so I bought it."

A boy? That boy? Her son's lack of interest in girls had concerned her for a long time. She hoped that sooner or later he would like a girl, at least behind her back. But after finding out he was dating a boy, not any boy but one she had seen grow up! "Kei-chan, I told you, you can do better. When are you going to stop to pretend playing house with him?"

"I'm not pretending," He hissed between teeth.

His mother sighed. "Silly child, that type relationship won't last. What's going to happen after you part ways after high school? You need to think seriously about your future. You can't play with boys forever. "

Keima shook with rage. "I'm not a kid! You've no say in who I hang out with!" If Keima was on fire before, now he was ablaze. Turning on his heels, he snatched the magazine off his mother's hands and dashed out of the house, ignoring his mother's screams. He sprinted from street to street, the world a blur. His mother's words from that terrifying day six months ago echoed between his ears.

"It won't last."

"You'll find a girl you like one day."

"This isn't how I raised you!"

"I won't tell your father so please stop seeing him."

Why did he have to be with a girl? Why did he have to get married and have kids? If his life was decided from the day he was born, then what was the point of living?!

He reached the Nogawa riverbed and slowed down to a trot. Approaching the water, his lungs wheezed for air. He cursed, trying to control his breathing. His vision was hazy. He forgot his inhaler at home. He sat on a patch of grass and closed his eyes, focusing on leveling his breathing.

Opening his eyes, they fell on the magazine. "No one understands," he mumbled. "Romance is this, can't be that. No one gets my version of like." He let out a deep sigh, lowering his head to lean on the rolled up magazine in both hands. He whispered, eyebrows scrunched as if praying, "That's fine. A man must create his own path! My 'like' isn't like other guys' and me and Kiyoshi aren't like them." Yet, he couldn't shake a tense feeling in the corner of his mind. It would take a long time for him to acknowledge it, let alone understand it.

As if by instinct, he opened his phone and was about to call his best friend but stopped short. Kiyoshi had been his best bud since forever but their relationship had recently changed. What was he doing complaining about his mother when he was involved? Keima felt childish and lame.

"I'll ask if he wants to hang out. That's fine, right?" He grumbled while dialing the number.

With a short call, the boy in question arrived minutes later, pulling a bicycle. He smiled timidly. At first glance, his dirty blonde hair and distinct facial features made you think he was an English-speaking foreigner but the way he carried himself was distinctly Japanese.

A violent sensation almost overwhelmed him. A person he could pick out of a crowd, bright-colored hair or not. Kiyoshi was special. A special friend. A special else. And it was all his. Keima wanted to grab him and pull him close but it wasn't appropriate. He grabbed the sides of pants and crumpled the fabric, holding back the urge.

"Hachi isn't with you?" The boy asked glancing at his sides before staring above large forest green glasses. They made his eyes look fuller and so so cute.

"Nah, just me, haha-ha." He wanted to slap himself. "Why the bicycle?"

"Um, well, I thought we were going somewhere like always."

"That's fine. We can ride on the way back." At this, Keima felt his face burn. "That was a joke!" He forced a laugh.

Kiyoshi followed, face flushed. Then, he noticed the object in Keima's hand. "Oh, that-?"

Keima was slapping the rolled magazine against his hand with the cover on the outside. "Yup, I got this morning." He unrolled the magazine. It was bent at the edge and a little crumpled. "I haven't seen your picture yet."

Kiyoshi fidgeted. "Thank you for buying it. It's not a popular magazine," he said in a small voice. "Actually, it's pretty embarrassing."

"What?"

"You seeing me. A-actually-" He motioned towards the magazine, covering it with his palm.

Mischief bubbled inside Keima. He loved the face Kiyoshi was making. He couldn't have enough of his favorite person's embarrassment. Whatever was bothering him before sunk into the recesses of his mind, disappearing from view.

"But I want to see," he teased. Kiyoshi wasn't the type of person to stand up to others, even less for himself. His feeble attempt at stopping Keima from opening the magazine was a suggestion at best.

"It-it's so embarrassing! Wha-what if I don't look good?"

"It's fine," Keima drawled. "What's the point of being a model and not being seen by others?"

Kiyoshi covered his eyes, hissing with the least threatening tone possible. "Just hurry up and do it, idiot!"

Keima chuckled and patted Kiyoshi's hair. He skimmed the magazine as he spoke, "you're doing your best. I'm proud of you."

The picture wasn't too bad. The outfit was neither his nor Kiyoshi's style. His physical appearance was of no interest to him. What was wrong with buying this magazine? His mother didn't even attempt to understand his intentions. Magazine live off sales numbers. This was one of the few ways Keima could support his timid partner to break out of his shell.

He swallowed the knot in his throat and broke into a cheery laugh. They spent a couple of hours chatting about nothing in particular and wandering aimlessly around the neighborhood. Keima drive the bicycle around a local park with Kiyoshi sitting behind. They broke into chocked giggles until Kiyoshi stepped down, unable to handle the embarrassment.

When Keima arrived home, he stuffed the magazine in the bottom of a random drawer, its purpose fulfilled.