**CHAPTER 8: "Yaoi is Life" part 2
**Daniel's POV**
Our conversation continued, and Lea, with unshakable enthusiasm, said, "Hold on, I've got some BL doujinshi here. Wanna borrow them?" She rummaged through her backpack, pulling out her manga.
She plopped them down on our table, and I was greeted by covers featuring provocative images of male characters. I shot up from my seat, hurriedly covering them with the plastic bags I was holding. My eyes darted to Nikki, who was grimacing at me like she was disgusted. I knew what she was thinking, and it wasn't good for my reputation as her older brother. The last thing I needed was for her to think I read manga about guys kissing—that would destroy any respect she had left for me as a "real man."
"Uh… Nikki, didn't you say you wanted to buy something? Here, take this and go shop before they run out," I stammered, shoving some money into her hands.
"Thanks, Kuya!" Nikki said, grabbing the cash without hesitation and heading back into the clothing store.
It pained me to give her more money, but I had to get her out of there while I dealt with this sensitive topic. "Are you crazy, Lea? Why'd you pull those out here? We're in a mall!" I hissed.
"Huh? So what if we're in a mall?" she asked, genuinely confused.
Her expression showed she didn't care who saw her BL manga. But what do you expect from a fujoshi? They're proud of their love for this genre. If she's bold enough to wear a T-shirt with two guys kissing in public, showing off her BL comics probably felt like nothing to her.
"What's wrong with it? It's not like it's illegal, and it's none of anyone's business that I'm a fujoshi," she said defiantly.
"Wrong. It's not about legality—it's about morality," I countered.
I wanted to lecture her, but you can't win against a girl who's set in her beliefs, especially a fujoshi. They've got a hundred reasons ready to defend their passion. "There's nothing wrong with yaoi. It's all about how people view it as art. Normies only see the negative side of this genre, but for us fujoshi, it's a beautiful form of art that shows pure love and equality," she said passionately.
"Well, I'm telling you, people don't have time to care about your views on your worldly yaoi obsession," I shot back.
"You sound like a normie. If you hide things just because you're scared of what people will say, it's like you're ashamed of who you are," she said. "You should be proud of yourself and show the world who you are. Only then will you find true freedom in this world. Freedom is a right."
I didn't know what was going through her head. I wanted to argue, but she was leaning on lofty ideals and pretty words. Some of what she said was true, but she was ignoring other people's sense of morality. To most, seeing comics about same-sex romance isn't normal, and many religions consider it a sin. So why do people like her love it?
It boils down to two things. First, it's 2D characters, not real people, which makes it appealing—2D is life, after all. Second, it's about their own desires. It's like the perfect recipe for a dish: handsome guys they dream about, romantic stories, and fanservice. The idea of one attractive guy paired with another equally attractive guy is, to them, the perfect love match.
"And another thing, Daniel," Lea continued, "isn't it discriminatory to judge yaoi as just lewd? It's about love that transcends gender. I believe everyone has the right to love whoever they want, even if they're the same gender."
She pushed me aside and sat next to me, eagerly showing off her BL manga and urging me to read them. She described the love scenes with a creepy enthusiasm, practically drooling. I wanted to respect her as a fellow otaku, believing we shouldn't hide who we are from society, but this was a different case.
"Tsk, Lea, you can't just show that stuff and talk about it out here. Stop fangirling for a second—don't you see you're coming off like a creep?" I said.
"It's fine. No one here knows me, and besides, I'm with you," she replied nonchalantly.
"That's exactly the problem," I muttered under my breath.
"And if people find out you're reading that stuff, they might avoid you. Aren't you afraid of ending up alone forever?" I asked.
"Hm… I've thought about that, but lucky for me, fate brought us back together," she said with a sly smile.
I didn't catch her meaning at first, but that grin hinted at something. "I know you're like me—you love 2D and have no interest in real people. So I'm sure you don't have a wife or girlfriend. It's perfect for both of us—let's just be together!"
In that moment, I froze, unsure if I'd misheard her or if she'd actually said something insane. "Huh?" I managed to choke out.
If you're picturing a romantic anime scene with sparkling lights and blooming flowers, you're dead wrong. This girl wasn't interested in me, and I felt the same way—aside from her short, shapeless figure, she had no qualities I'd find appealing.
"My parents are pressuring me to get married so I won't grow old alone, but I'm not interested in guys—they're all cheaters who move on to someone new when they're bored. I know you feel the same about girls, so there's nothing wrong with my offer," she said.
Yes, it was pure madness. No sane girl would say something like that to a guy. I couldn't believe she was so desperate for a life partner. "Don't you get chills saying that? Do you think it's that simple to ask for something like that, or that I'd just agree to marriage like it's a game?" I asked, incredulous.
"I'm not saying marriage is a small thing. I'm just thinking ahead. I need to find someone like me so I won't grow old alone," she replied. "Don't worry, it's not like it's happening now—maybe when we're 30."
I grimaced as she cheerfully laid out her plan, as if she expected me to agree. She was clearly trying to use me to keep indulging her fujoshi lifestyle. But I hadn't thought about those things either. Like her, my mom often nags me to get married and think about my future. Back when I was a NEET, she'd say it to get me out of her house, claiming I was becoming a burden.
It just proved how wild people like her think, and you shouldn't underestimate what they're willing to do to keep being fujoshi. But the idea of marrying and living with a fujoshi? No way—that's not the kind of love life a guy like me wants.
"You're out of your mind. Only a crazy guy would agree to that setup," I grumbled.
"I know, and that's exactly why I'm asking you. Come on, it's for our future," she pressed.
"Are you asking for a favor or just insulting me?" I shot back.
Our conversation stalled, and we just stared at each other. From the gleam in her eyes, I could tell she was still hoping I'd change my mind. "No way," I said firmly.
She slumped, her head dropping onto the table in dramatic disappointment. Tsk, I didn't expect her to stray so far from the otaku path. Back in the day, Lea was a shy, smart girl with no friends at school except me, which made it easy for her to get hooked on anime.
Just then, Nikki returned with her shopping bags. She saw Lea's pitiful state and shot me another judgmental look, as if she thought I'd done something shady to this girl. I knew it wouldn't be good if Nikki overheard Lea's vulgar fujoshi talk, so I quickly gathered my things and made an excuse to leave. "We've got places to go. I'd love to keep chatting, Lea, but we might get home late, so we'll head out now."
Lea didn't respond, her head still slumped on the table, her BL manga scattered around her. If you could've seen the judgmental stares from the people around us, you'd understand my embarrassment. "Let's go, Nikki. We've got more shopping to do," I said.
But as we walked away, Lea suddenly slammed her hand on the table, muttering to herself like a lunatic. Nikki and I turned back, and for some reason, I got a bad feeling about what was coming. I couldn't hear her clearly, but she was drawing attention from everyone around us. "No, no, no, no, no," she mumbled.
Then she shouted, "This is your fault! If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have ended up like this. You're responsible for me!" She went on, all dramatic, "We shared so much back then, and you said I was fun to be around!"
"Huh?" I said, my face twisting in confusion.
I couldn't fully grasp why she was blaming me for her yaoi obsession. Whatever she was fighting for, I didn't care anymore. She chose to dive into yaoi, and I didn't introduce her to anime just so she'd become a fujoshi. My conscience was clear.
But then the world seemed to stop. She faced me, pointed, and yelled with full confidence, "Don't run away, Daniel! Take responsibility for me!"
I didn't know how to react or what to say. She'd shouted it so brazenly in front of everyone, as if she didn't care what they'd think. I didn't care if these strangers didn't know me—what mattered was I had no face left to show. It was mortifying. Absolutely mortifying.
"You're insane," I muttered.
**END**