Daniel's POV.
"Oh, by the way, check out one of my favorite shirts!" she said, stepping back to show off her outfit.
The shirt was high-quality, I'll give it that. It featured Yuu and Mika from Owari no Seraph, one of my favorite series. But as I looked closer at the art, my smile faltered.
"W-w-wait, Lea, don't tell me…" I stammered, pointing at the print.
"Huh? Isn't it awesome?" she asked, oblivious.
The T-shirt featured fan art of the two male leads... in a very intimate pose. It was BL—boys' love. It's rare enough for people to wear anime shirts in public, but wearing a shirt with two guys leaning in for a kiss took a level of courage I didn't possess.
"You're a fujoshi? What happened to you?" I asked, genuinely stunned.
"Huh? Yeah, of course! Yaoi is life! I'm actually a founder of a local fujoshi group. Oh, wait, let me show you some of my collection!" she said excitedly, whipping out her phone.
I don't think Lea noticed my judgment. She didn't care that my face was slowly turning a pale shade of "I want to leave." She stepped closer, swiping through her gallery.
"Look at this keychain of Yuri and Viktor—aren't they such a cute couple? And I've got this merch of Eren and Levi getting married. So adorable, right? Kyaa!" she squealed, the high-pitched sound drawing even more stares from the food court.
I forced a tight smile, looking over at Nikki, who was watching the whole thing with a look of pure, unadulterated amusement. I couldn't exactly tell Lea I wasn't into that genre. She should've known, but she was too deep in her own world to notice mine was caving in.
"That's... uh... very detailed, Lea," I managed to say. "Is that a lace veil on the titan-slayer?"
"Yes! Isn't the contrast perfect?" she beamed.
I looked at the plastic bag in my hand and then at the squealing fujoshi in front of me. This was definitely not the "fate" I had imagined.
"Wait, I have some BL doujinshi here—do you want to read them? I can lend you a few," she said, her eyes lighting up with a dangerous sort of missionary zeal. Before I could even process the offer, she was unzipping her backpack and pulling several manga volumes out.
She laid them out right there on the food court table. The covers—depicting explicit, stylized images of men in... very compromised positions—were suddenly on full display under the bright mall lights. My heart nearly stopped. I bolted upright, my chair screeching against the tile, and scrambled to cover the books with the heavy shopping bags I was holding.
I shot a glance at Nikki. She was currently grimacing at me with a look of pure, unadulterated disgust, her nose wrinkled like she'd just smelled a mountain of rotting garbage. I knew exactly what she was thinking. It wasn't doing any favors for my reputation as her older brother. I didn't want her thinking I spent my factory breaks reading stories about men kissing; she'd definitely lose all respect for me as a "real man."
"Ah... hey... Nikki, weren't you going to buy something?" I stammered, my hands shaking as I reached into my pocket and thrust some crumpled bills toward her. "Here, just take it. Go buy that outfit now before they run out of stock. Go, go!"
"Thanks, Kuya," she said slowly, eyeing me like I was a ticking time bomb.
Nikki took the money without hesitation and headed straight back into the clothing store, though she looked back over her shoulder twice. It killed me to give her more money—that was a few days' worth of lunches—but I had to get her out of the splash zone so I could talk to this girl about her complete lack of social boundaries.
Once Nikki was out of earshot, I hissed across the table. "Are you insane? Why would you bring those out here? You know you're in a public mall, right? Families are eating over there!"
"Huh? What does being in a mall have to do with it?" she asked, tilting her head and looking genuinely puzzled.
Judging by her expression, she truly didn't care who saw her BL collection. Then again, what else can you expect from a dedicated fujoshi? People like her are loud and proud about their hobbies to the point of being oblivious. I suppose if she's brave enough to wear that shirt out in public, showing off explicit comics to strangers is small potatoes.
"What's so wrong with it? My being a fujoshi has nothing to do with other people, and it's not against the law," she argued, crossing her arms.
"Wrong. This isn't about whether it's legal, Lea; it's about common decency and reading the room!"
I wanted to lecture her, to really lay into her about public etiquette, but you can't really win against a woman once she's planted her feet—especially a fujoshi. They can come up with a hundred complex excuses to defend their obsession.
"Yaoi isn't bad; it's all about how a person perceives the art," she countered, her voice getting that lecturing tone. "People judge it because 'normies' only see the explicit parts, but to us fujoshis, it's a beautiful art form that depicts pure love and equality. It's transcendental!"
"Well, let me be the one to tell you: no one at the Jollibee counter has the time to study your 'artistic perspectives' on your worldly Yaoi fantasies. They just see two guys and a lot of muscle."
"You know, you sound like such a normie right now, Daniel. If you're hiding who you are just because you're scared of what some random person might say, then you're basically ashamed of yourself."
She leaned in, her eyes intense. "Remember, you should be proud of yourself. Show the world who you are. Only then will you find true freedom. Freedom is a right, Sensei!"
I had no idea what was going on in this girl's head. I wanted to shoot down her logic, but she was hiding behind all these "noble" sentiments about rights and freedom. Some of what she said was true, sure—I'm an otaku, I get it—but she was completely ignoring the "don't be a creep in public" rule.
It's not exactly "normal" for people to see comics about same-sex romance in a provincial mall, and according to most religions, it's considered a sin. So why do people like her love it so much?
I think it boils down to two things. First, the characters are 2D—they look "perfect" to them, untainted by the flaws of real men. 2D is life, as they say. Second, it's a recipe for their specific desires: handsome men, a dramatic romance plot, and heavy fan service. To them, the idea of one attractive man paired with another "delicious" man is the ultimate romantic pairing.
"And another thing, Daniel—isn't it discriminatory to judge Yaoi as nothing but obscenity? It's about love that transcends gender. I believe everyone has the right to love whoever they want."
She nudged me with her shoulder and sat down right beside me, trying to shove the manga back into my line of sight. She looked like a total creep, her eyes practically glazed over as she described a "love scene" in the third volume.