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Due to this being a sequel, I recommend you read one of the completed materials for the prequel. So far, the manga is the only completed translations of the prequel.

To read, click here.

I woke up.

Wind rushed out of the classroom from an open window in the back. The silent room was filled with the sound of fluttering curtains. The whole class, myself included, was frozen as if time had stopped. Standing before the podium was a quiet looking transfer student.

“I don’t want any special treatment. That’s all I wanted to say. This shouldn’t change anything, so don’t mind me.”

—No, no.

That’s goddamn impossible. I mean, it’s common sense. Are people from Tokyo crazy? Or is it just him? Hey, look here.

“My hobbies include reading. I also listen to music from my favorite group, Queen, pretty often. It’s a rock band from England. You may not know much about them, but if someone here does like them, please come talk to me. Ah, just so you know, it’s well known that their lead singer, Freddie Mercury, is gay. That’s not why I like them though, and I lost my temper at my old school when someone said it was.”

The new student motioned embarrassingly. No, this is not the time to be embarrassed. What’s with you talking about it like it’s some kind of fond memory? Are you waiting for someone to take the bait for this joke?

“Anyways,” the transfer student straightened up as he recomposed himself, “I just moved here, and to be honest, I can’t tell the difference between my left and my right. I even struggled a bit on my way to school today, so I would be grateful if you guys took the time to teach me the ropes. It’s nice to meet you all!”

The transfer bowed his head crisply. The old man next to him, our homeroom teacher, Mr. Kobarin, then clasped his hands together and said, “Alright!” What followed was the whole class erupting into cheerful applause, creating a touching picture in which such a shocking confession was met with acceptance as the transfer student smiled happily. What the hell is this?

“Well then, does anyone have any questions—”

In response to Mr. Kobarin’s inquiry, one of the girls eagerly shot up her hand. It was Enomoto, known for her lack of discretion. Oi, you. Are you serious? Cut it out.

“Ah yes, Enomoto?”

“Yes! Um, do ya have a boyfriend?!”

—She actually just went and said it.

I was just about ready to slam my head against my desk. She did not just say that. This isn’t the time to talk about love—

“Not here, no.”

The classroom stirred audibly at his response. The chiming of the girls’ squeals only added to the noise. The transfer had said it without the slightest ounce of hesitation, taking me aback.

“He used to live here, but I can’t reveal his name since he hasn’t come out yet. Is that okay with you?”

“Mhm. Okiee! Grats~”

Making a circle with her index finger and thumb, she took her seat. Mr. Kobarin once again asked if anyone had questions, and this time, several hands flung into the air. Teasingly, he said, “My, you’re quite popular,” before calling on somebody else only to have their question swiftly answered by the transfer student again.

Then, after three questions, Mr. Kobarin said a conclusive, “Well that’s that,” and clasped his hands together. The class collectively muttered “Huhhh?” Seeing the frustration on their faces, Mr. Kobarin raised his voice.

“Now, now, be nice to each other, okay? I have faith in you guys, but if you do something stupid like bully the transfer for some foolish reason, I’ll rip your guts out. You got that~?”

“Okayyyyy!”

Everyone responded in cheerful agreement. The transfer student then took an empty seat, and homeroom started as per usual. I stared at his nonchalant looking face, thoughts rapidly racing inside my head.

It was way too brazen. I’m not the least bit convinced it actually happened. Did I mishear something? No, I didn’t. He actually said it.

You’re a homosexual.

Just like me—

“It’s not a big deal.”

Kokonoe Naoya spoke without a care while sitting on the park bench, drinking iced coffee from the convenience store right around the corner. But then, if his words were true, there would’ve been no point in meeting with Naoya after school to vent. I pursed my lips, grumbling.

“That’s no good.”

“What do ya mean?”

“Is this his first time coming out?”

“If you’re gonna be like this, start from the beginning. What’s got your stomach in a twist?”

Once again, he had asked me a tough question. Naoya opened his mouth in response to my silence.

“You’re jealous of the transfer, aren’tcha ?” Naoya asked, flinging his unfinished cup of coffee into a nearby trash can. Soon after, he whipped out a cigarette from his backpack, popped it into his mouth, and lit it with some dollar store lighter. He might have been smoking in an unpopular park, but he was still in his uniform.

“‘I’m jealous because coming out is something I simply can’t do no matter how much I want to,’ is basically what you’re thinking, right? You, Akira Igarashi… what was his name…Jun Andou? You feel like ya lost to him. You’re jealous of those Tokyo people, super jealous.”

“…It’s not like that.”

“Well then, go on, tell me what’s got ya in a tizzy.”

“I just—I don’t want him making me look weird, okay?”

“Huhh?”

“If he acts strangely, then people will think the whole gay community does too. His actions are detrimental to our reputation.”

Naoya held the cigarette securely in his mouth using his right hand’s index and middle finger. Then, breathing in the smoke, he puffed it out with a single word.

“Shit.”

His bitter assessment caused a pang in my chest. Naoya heaved a sigh, dropping his cigarette onto the ground and stomping it out with his loafers.

“You’re just some fucker with a small asshole. Damn bottom.”

“That’s irrelevant here! No wait, it’s not small!”

“Then, you’re not going to deny being a bottom?”

“That’s not what I’m sayi—”

Lips… His rough lips overtook mine.

The taste of tobacco passed onto me through his saliva. Bitter. It was always like this kissing him. Still, I couldn’t resist the bitter, mature taste of his that washed over me.

Naoya pulled away. He smirked, eyes barely peeking through his long bangs. He then moved his mouth to my ear, whispering to me seductively.

“That erotic talk of yours got me horny.”

Bullshit. You wanted things to happen this way, and that’s why you called me a bottom. We were both aware that I knew better than to mention that, though.

Naoya’s right hand stroked my crotch. My stiffening was my consent. We got up from the bench and made our way to the park’s uni-sex bathrooms. It was part of our everyday routine.

I met Naoya in the spring of my second year in high school through a dating app I had installed out of curiosity.

When I first got the message “I’m a second-year too,” I was so surprised that I thought my heart had stopped. Of course, the app was meant for one-night-stands and not those under 18 years of age, so I lied about my age and pretended to be a college student. I didn’t even have a profile picture. Then that “I’m a second-year too” hit me like a truck. I had no choice but to freeze.

When the next message, “Meet me after school behind the gym’s storage closet,” came, I went obediently. I don’t know how, but they know who I am. I need to keep them from talking no matter what. Those were the only thoughts going through my head. I forgot how likely it was that the other person had something to hide just like me; Instead, I focused entirely on how much money it would take to keep his mouth shut.

It was Naoya I met behind the gym’s storage closet.

The reasoning he’d used to figure out my true identity was quite simple: we may have had little contact, having never been in the same class, but we were still in the same grade. He recounted several occasions on which we’d encountered each other at school. He also mentioned a time when he’d seen me during our school’s Social Studies field trip, which was reserved for second years. “Oh, then he must be in the same grade at my school,” was his theory. I groaned at his explanation, which made him cackle.

“Ya need only change your location data to rest easy.”

Instead of responding, I just stared directly at him. However, when he joked, “Ohh, how scary,” I asked a question, hugging my shoulder.

“So, what do ya want?”

“Nothing really. I just wanted to meet ya.”

“Why?”

“Uh, well, for this.”

He approached me carefully. From the way he moved, I could tell exactly why. Like I’d assumed, Naoya had placed his hand behind my head and pressed his lips onto mine. His bitter taste told me he smoked, which intimidated me a bit, as it made me realize the hidden side of somebody I’d thought was the same age.

“You’re my type, so what do ya say?”

Naoya laughed. It was annoying that he’d been jerking me around the entire time, so I forced myself onto his lips. The swishing of our saliva exchange vibrated in my skull, heating up my brain until it passed from my head to my torso and eventually to my groin.

We were fellow comrades, and as such, we embraced each other. We made sure to exist for each other.

We—people like us—are used to physical relationships like this.

When I arrived home and walked through the living room, I spotted my older sister sprawled on the floor in her jersey, hunched over her phone.

Her long hair was spread out onto the wooden floor, making her seem like some sort of monster. “What are ya doing?” I asked, to which she replied, “It’s hot.” Having finished small talk, I went to the back of the room for a bottle of tea. I took one out of the refrigerator and shut the door before my sister called out to me.

“Akira.”

“What is it?”

“There’s a gay transfer student in your class.”

The plastic bottle nearly slipped from my hand. I managed to maintain my composure and walked over to my sister, who was now laying on her back.

“How did ya know?”

“I have a junior in my club. Soo, what’s he like?”

“A veeery ordinary guy.”

“Is he your type?”

—I spilled the tea on my face.

Hold your words in. Calm down. This is coming from the woman who stormed into her brother’s room without a single knock only to find him masturbating to gay porn, thereby discovering that she had a gay family member. Right now, it wouldn’t be fair to expect her to ask questions in a delicate manner.

“Not in the least. I hate him.”

“Why?”

“Well, of course I wouldn’t like some socially inept dude who made everyone uncomfortable by coming out in a public introduction.”

“You and that ‘socially inept dude’ might get along.”

“You’re the only one who would say that!”

I stormed away from my sister, rushing to the first door I saw out of the living room. Just when I’d clutched the knob and twisted it slightly open, she said something behind me.

“Akira,” she started in a serious tone,”If anything happens to the transfer, make sure you help him.”

What? I already knew that long before you told me.

“…Well, he would’ve had it coming.”

In a cold dismissal, I left the living room and walked up the stairs to my room on the second floor. I tossed my bag on the floor, dove into my bed, and laid there staring at the ceiling.

A pungent smell wafted up to my nose. The smell of his cigarettes had embedded itself into my uniform. It made me recall hugging Naoya in the park bathroom. Now that I think about it, that transfer mentioned he had a boyfriend. Then, has he also done it? Imagining that got me hard once again, which made me hate myself to the point of wanting to die.

But that’s normal for me.

Whenever I find out somebody likes men, I always think of sex. The things that I don’t normally think about between a man and a woman, a father and a mother, or a grandpa and grandma, other people do. It’s just sickening to me. Sex in general is pretty disgusting, but everyone looks down on people like me as if they don’t do it themselves.

That transfer student, Jun Andou or whatever, will probably find that out soon too. He rode the momentum of acceptance on the first day, but that won’t last forever. Soon others will ostracize and reject him.

So, am I gonna join them?

—No clue.

Do you even realize what you did? You basically committed social suicide. You did this to yourself. I can already see it. I know it. Don’t drag me into this, idiot.I closed my eyes. Behind my eyelids, I could picture the transfer student standing before the podium. How was he able to admit to that with such a brazen look? I didn’t manage to find an answer though, because after dealing with Naoya for the first time in a while, exhaustion swept over me, and my consciousness faded out.

Credits:

Translator – YabaibunniEditor – RanQuality Checker – Xinqi

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