Eijirou Kirishima had never been in a relationship before. He’d always thought he would be the kind of guy who figured it out late, maybe after high school, once he was more confident and more… himself. He didn’t expect it to sneak up on him like this—quietly at first, then all at once, like a landslide crashing through every thought he had.

It started with noticing him. The way his laugh cut through background noise and made Kirishima’s chest tighten in a good way. The way his eyes lit up when he talked about something he loved—whether it was a hobby, a random fun fact, or even just a new snack he found at the corner store. Kirishima had always admired people who were passionate, and his crush had that in spades.

Once he realized it was a crush, though, he couldn’t keep it to himself.

He caught himself talking about him constantly. It wasn’t even on purpose—his name just slipped into conversation.

Mina teased him first. “Okay, you’ve said his name, like, five times in the past ten minutes. You sure you don’t have something to tell us?”

Kirishima felt his ears burn. “What? No—! I mean, I just think he’s really cool, you know? He’s, uh, manly.”

That only made them laugh harder, but the truth was, she was right. He did have something to tell them. And soon, he wasn’t even trying to hide it. He told them everything: how his crush made him laugh so hard his ribs hurt, how he was actually ridiculously smart, how he had this habit of fidgeting with his sleeves when he was nervous. Every tiny detail felt worth sharing, like a treasure he couldn’t keep to himself.

His mom heard about it too. On phone calls home, she’d get a full report before Kirishima even asked how she was doing. “Mom, he’s so kind. Like—genuinely, heart-deep kind. He notices when people are having a rough day and he always does something small to make it better. Who does that? It’s amazing.”

His mom just chuckled, her voice warm through the receiver. “Sounds like someone’s stolen your heart, Eiji.”

And she was right. He was gone. Totally, hopelessly gone.

When they finally started dating—when he actually got to call this boy his boyfriend—it was like stepping into the sun after years of winter. Kirishima couldn’t believe it was real at first. Holding his hand? Getting to say, “This is my boyfriend”? Hearing him call him Eiji in that soft, special way, like the word itself was an endearment? It felt unreal. Like a dream he didn’t want to wake up from.

And the best part was—he never got tired of it. If anything, the obsession grew stronger.

On their first date, he couldn’t stop staring. They were sitting side by side, shoulders brushing, sharing a basket of fries, and Kirishima had to force himself not to grin like an idiot every time his boyfriend dipped one in ketchup. He thought, This is it. This is happiness. It’s right here, in these little moments.

Every time his boyfriend looked at him, Kirishima’s heart did this wild, stumbling thing in his chest. He wanted to tell him everything he was feeling, to say out loud just how beautiful he thought he was, how much he adored him, how every day felt brighter with him in it. Sometimes the words tumbled out anyway, unpolished but honest.

“You’re amazing,” he’d say, cheeks red but grin wide. Or, “Man, I’m so lucky you’re mine.”

It made his boyfriend laugh sometimes, embarrassed but happy, and Kirishima lived for that laugh. He lived for every chance to hold his hand, every good morning text, every late-night conversation where they talked about the future like it was theirs to build together.

To his friends, it was obvious. To his mom, it was inevitable. But to Kirishima, it was everything. His first relationship, his first love, his first time realizing that being “manly” didn’t mean hiding his feelings—it meant owning them, wholeheartedly, without fear.