When Hokuto tells his family he's gay at the dinner table one Sunday afternoon, his mother asks if he'd like to have some more pickles.
Hokuto sits with his chopsticks paused above his bowl. He had practiced the reveal in his head for weeks. He wanted to make it as short and clear as possible, so that it would leave no doubts.
"I'm gay. I've known since elementary school."
Hokuto had been prepared for everything. Anger, maybe some tears. He had mentally prepared himself for awkward questions about how he knew, when he knew, whether he was sure, and so on. Of all possible reactions, he had not prepared for what his family really does.
Instead of looking even mildly shocked, his mother reaches across the table for the small porcelain dish of homemade takuan.
"These turned out well this time. Try another," she says.
His father nods towards the window. "This rain will keep the garden ground soft all week. The hydrangeas will love it, but the soil will compact if we don't get some dry spell soon."
"At least the forecast improves by next weekend. We could still do that short trip to Hakone if the roads dry," his brother, Takeru, says.
Hokuto clears his throat.
"Did you just hear what I said?" he asks.
His mother smiles the same gentle way she does when a neighbour asks polite questions. "Of course. Eat now. Your rice will get cold, Hokuto."
The rest of the meal passes ordinarily. Takeru talks about his girlfriend Mitsuki's job in marketing. His father mentions that the neighbor's roof needs repair after last month's typhoon. His mother asks whether Hokuto wants the leftover nimono wrapped for lunch tomorrow. No one mentions the word "gay". No one looks at Hokuto differently. It was as though he had commented on the flavor of the miso rather than revealed a big secret of himself.
It's confusing.
-----
The confusion continues as the pattern repeats. The next Sunday, Hokuto has barely finished helping clear the dishes and wash his hands when his mother appears in the kitchen doorway.
"Hokuto, come and sit down with me for a moment?" she asks as she beckons Hokuto to take a seat at the table. Hokuto obeys, and she sits down next to him. All of a sudden, his mother has something in her hands, and she shows him a bridal magazine. She opens it to a page about spring weddings at shrines.
"So many young couples these days meet at university. There must be nice smart girls in your department, too!" she chit-chats.
Hokuto stares at the pages. The models in wedding kimonos are smiling with their perfect teeth. He's speechless for a moment.
"I'm not interested in girls, Mom," he then says slowly, measuring each word.
She simply ignores that and turns another page.
"This venue has a beautiful garden," she goes on.
Then she closes the magazine with a satisfied little hum, sets it on the table in front of Hokuto, and pats his knee once.
"I'll make tea for us, darling," she says, standing up. "You look like you could use something warm."
-----
Hokuto's father calls him midweek from the living room landline. (They still have one at home for emergencies because his father claims cellphones sometimes lose signal during thunderstorms and typhoons. Hokuto has long stopped arguing the point.)
After asking about Hokuto's latest research paper and whether he's eating enough vegetables, his father starts talking about their house renovation plans.
"There's plenty of space in that empty tatami room upstairs when you bring some girl here someday. We could even put in a low table for two."
Hokuto closes his eyes.
"Dad, I'm gay."
There's a pause on the other side. It's not that long, not shocked. It's just absent, like a skipped frame in a film. Then his father clears his throat and continues exactly where he left off, tone unchanged, as though Hokuto had said nothing more remarkable than "I like the idea."
"Your mother was thinking we should replace the wallpaper as well. The current pattern is starting to yellow at the edges. Do you think beige would fit there?"
Are they really serious? Do they even understand how ridiculous the situation has become? Then again, Hokuto is tired of trying to make them understand what he's saying. He sighs.
"Beige is fine," he says simply.
"Good. I'll tell your mother. She'll be happy to have your opinion."
They talk for another minute about the cost of new tatami mats and whether to insulate the walls before winter. Then his father ends the call the way he always does.
"Take care of yourself. Good night, Hokuto."
"Good night."
-----
Soon, Hokuto stops bringing the gay topic up altogether. It doesn't seem to matter whether he corrects his parents' words. Because every time he does the correction, the words are, in any case, met with the same gentle deflection and the same quiet refusal to acknowledge what he's actually telling them. It's like speaking into empty walls.
So, he ends up letting comments about "nice girls" pass during the next Sunday family gatherings or phone calls. He doesn't comment on them at all, nor does he make corrections. There's no point.
Unfortunately, he then realizes their family trip to Korea is coming up very soon. It'll be two full weeks, all of them together, moving from one place to another, sharing meals and conversations that will inevitably circle back to the same topics.
His parents mentioned to him and Takeru before that it's totally okay for both of them to bring a plus-one on the trip. Obviously, Takeru is bringing Mitsuki with him.
Hokuto muses. That would actually be a very convenient way to show his family what it means to be gay. If he brought a boyfriend with him to the trip and they would have the same treatment as Takeru and Mitsuki, maybe the family would need to face the reality of what it actually means if someone is gay.
His family wouldn't cause a scene because of it. They've never been like that. But they would have to face the reality properly, without the option of quietly ignoring it.
Hokuto sighs. Too bad he doesn't have a boyfriend, and he's been way too busy with his latest paper to even think about going on dates with anyone.
He lets out another sigh, already imagining how long and exhausting those two weeks will be.
-----
On a Thursday evening, Hokuto sits in the booth at the small izakaya, two stops from Shintaro's junior high on the Chiyoda line. He has arrived early that night. His beer is already half drunk when Shintaro arrives.
Shintaro pushes through the noren curtain, shaking rain from his hair. He is wearing the blazer, sleeves pushed up, the tie loosened by exactly one notch, the way he always does the second he leaves the teachers' room. He drops into the seat opposite Hokuto.
"Wow, what a gloomy face. You look like you forgot the umbrella at home!"
Hokuto smiles tiredly. "Worse. My family."
Shintaro puffs in sympathy, flagging the waiter for a beer for himself.
"Okay, do tell everything?" he asks Hokuto.
So, Hokuto tells the story again, though Shintaro already knows pieces of it from scattered late-night LINE messages Hokuto has sent him.
"So, they just keep going," Shintaro comments when Hokuto is finished.
"Yes." Hokuto touches the rim of his glass with one finger. "They'll probably keep asking about potential girlfriends until I'm collecting my pension."
"That's tough," Shintaro says.
"I think they'll never stop. Not until they see me with a boyfriend. Actually see it. Until they watch me kiss him right in front of them or something," Hokuto says gloomily. He sighs before he continues.
"And not only that, but there's that upcoming family trip to Korea. The one I mentioned to you, remember? To be honest, I have no idea how I'm going to survive that in this situation. Two weeks there. I'll be stuck smiling while Mom comments on every possible girl on the street and says something like 'she looks like she'd make a nice daughter-in-law.' I can't do fourteen days of that, Shintaro. I'll crack."
Shintaro takes a long sip of his beer, considering. "I get that. That's seriously next-level denial they're doing there."
"I even looked up those rental boyfriend agencies. But the prices…" Hokuto shakes his head. "Basic dates are like six thousand yen an hour minimum, sometimes more depending on the 'cast.' But for two full weeks, it'd easily hit five hundred thousand yen or more. Maybe closer to a million if I want to make it look convincing with staged couple stuff. That's half my research stipend for the year, easy. So, no way."
"You're not serious?" Shintaro asks.
"About the price? I'm serious. One quote even includes wardrobe consultation, so the boyfriend looks 'respectable' to parents."
"No, I mean—" Shintaro leans forward, changing his position. "Are you serious about thinking about hiring someone? Just so your family finally understands you're gay?"
Hokuto shrugs. "I don't know. Maybe. I know, it does feel and sound ridiculous. But so does spending two weeks with a family who will point out every female that passes by."
"And spring break timing isn’t helping," he adds, letting out another heavy sigh. "Those boyfriend services are even more expensive during that time. Not that there would be many free slots either, because apparently, it's the time when everyone else needs fake boyfriends, too. Asking someone I know for a long date? Everyone I know has work to do, as the labs don't close or they already have plans. No one is free."
Shintaro is quiet for a beat. "Except me," he then states.
Hokuto looks up slowly.
"Our semester holiday," Shintaro continues, a small grin starting to form on his face. "Not only for kids but for us teachers too."
"What are you trying to say?"
"Hokuto, I'll do it."
"Do what?"
"Pretend to be your boyfriend!"
Hokuto stares at him long, and Shintaro continues before he can form any word to respond.
"You know I broke up with Mika six weeks ago already. So it's convenient. We can tell your parents I have finally realized why none of my relationships with women ever last long. The whole time, I've been secretly in love with my high school friend Hokuto. That'd be a nice gay awakening story, right?"
"You would be really okay for two weeks pretending to be in love with me?" Hokuto asks in disbelief. "I mean, you're straight..."
Shintaro's mouth turns into a small, familiar grin. It's the one he flashed back in high school when he pulled off some minor prank.
"You've helped me so many times I can't even count those times," he says, sounding absolutely sincere. "You tutored me through entrance exams when I was convinced I would fail. You let me secretly crash at your dorm room countless times when I didn't make it to the last train. You listen to me ramble about lesson plans at two in the morning. So, this isn't a big deal. I definitely can survive one trip with your family and pretend to be very gay and in love with you. Besides, I'll get to eat some amazing Korean food and be the guide since I know all the cool places! I mean, I would be basically only winning here."
Hokuto nods slowly. He can't actually believe that Shintaro would do that for him, but then again, the guy has always been nice and helpful since their friendship started. Shintaro has wanted to make sure that all his friends are fine, and Hokuto has never been an exception. In fact, Hokuto sometimes catches himself thinking that Shintaro is extra considerate when it comes to him, but maybe it's because the two of them have known each other forever. It's also quite rare for Hokuto to be the one who's been taken care of, so maybe he just pays extra close attention when it happens.
"So, how would we do all that in practice?" Hokuto asks. There are many practical things they'd need to discuss to make it all look believable. So the whole plan wouldn't dissolve into panic the second they step off the plane.
"Easy," Shintaro says, ticking points off on his fingers like he's planning another field trip itinerary for his school kids. "We act all couple-y whenever your family is watching. I can hold your hand when we walk through the markets. I can touch your waist when we're waiting in line for tickets. Maybe we can share a quick kiss in front of the hotel entrance in the evening. All those small gestures, but make it unmistakable in front of your family that you're dating me, just like Takeru is dating Mitsuki."
Hokuto's stomach does a slow flip at the word kiss. Not because the idea repulses him. Shintaro has always been easy on the eyes. In fact, if being honest, Hokuto has had the tiniest crush on Shintaro for as long as he could remember, but he has always tucked away under years of knowing Shintaro's interest always leaned toward girls. In the end, it had never mattered or bothered Hokuto that much. But now, he can't help but feel a little bit excited to get to do stuff like that with Shintaro, because that'll probably be the first and last time. But at least it'd happen once. Even if it'd all be about pretending.
Shintaro seems to read something weird on Hokuto's face. He probably thinks that Hokuto is thinking completely the opposite, like how kissing a good friend might be a bit too much. His tone softens.
"Look, it doesn't have to be a whole production, of course. Just enough that they can't keep pretending they didn't see it. After that…" He shrugs one shoulder. "They seriously need to face reality. We make it so gay that they're not about to ask about your potential girlfriends ever again."
"And then?" Hokuto prompts.
"And then, after the trip, we will wait a week. Maybe two. Anyway, long enough that it doesn't look too staged. Then you tell them we broke up." Shintaro's grin turns a shade sheepish. "You can say I snore. Or that I smell like garlic after every meal, and it disgusts you. Or—wait, no, that would be cruel to garlic lovers everywhere. Just tell them we work better as friends. That's painless, and maybe such a cliché, but everyone saves face there."
Hokuto exhales slowly.
"This is a terrible idea," he says.
Shintaro grins. "Yeah."
"It could go very wrong."
"Yeah. Definitely."
"My family might take it very seriously."
"Well, that'd be good!" Shintaro says with a laugh. "That's kind of the point, isn't it?"
Hokuto looks at him. There's no hesitation in Shintaro's expression; he looks absolutely confident about everything. There's no trace of a joke on his face either. He's just holding that same steady certainty he's always had, the kind Hokuto has relied on many times before.
"Are you really sure about this?" Hokuto asks slowly. Because the more he thinks about the plan, the more he realizes that it might just work. But he still needs to make sure Shintaro is fine with it.
"Absolutely!" Shintaro says. Then, he adds with a tender voice, "I've got you, Hokuto. I want to help you."
"Okay then," Hokuto says.
Shintaro's grin widens. "Okay?"
"Okay."
They don't shake hands. It isn't that kind of agreement. Instead, Shintaro lifts his glass.
"To us, very convincing fake boyfriends," he says.
Hokuto lifts his own glass in return. There is a possibility that, under this plan, his family will finally understand what his identity truly means. He is not sure if it will actually happen, but for the first time, there is something that feels like hope.
And more than that, at least the whole trip will surely be a lot more bearable when Shintaro is there with him.