My previous world often portrayed gay people as aggressively targeting all members of the same gender, making it common for people to say, “Well don’t hit on me,” once they found out you were gay.
“W-well… It’s just that Rae happens to like women, too, I suppose,” Lene said. “It just means that gender is irrelevant to romance for her.” “That’s not right,” I said. “Huh?” “Gender is relevant.” “R-really?”
Bisexual people existed, for one, and those who identified as gay or lesbian might consider themselves to not be attracted to a particular gender so much as to a particular person—well, it was complicated. But now that I thought about it, I, personally, wasn’t into men. Gender was definitely relevant to me.
“I don’t expect Miss Claire to return my feelings. Miss Claire is interested in someone else, and I want to support that. I’m happy just being near her. But even so—” “But what?” Now Claire had joined in questioning me.
“But even so, I think it would be almost impossible to just completely give up on you, Miss Claire,” I teased, laughing again. No one else laughed this time, either. I needed to stop. “At any rate, Miss Claire, please continue to act the way you always have. I am quite happy with our current arrangement.”
Even if she didn’t get me, even if my feelings were unrequited, I liked Claire. There was no future for us; I knew that. But even so, I couldn’t help hoping. It would be so much easier if I just fell in love with another lesbian, I thought to myself. But love was something you fell into. You didn’t get to choose whom you loved.
“Hey, Rae. Are you what they call gay?”
Misha dropped this bombshell on me while I was eating lunch. Claire and Lene choked.
My previous world often portrayed gay people as aggressively targeting all members of the same gender, making it common for people to say, “Well don’t hit on me,” once they found out you were gay.
And that was why I was surprised by Misha’s reaction: “Miss Claire. You’re being prejudiced. I might even say discriminatory.”
“W-well… It’s just that Rae happens to like women, too, I suppose,” Lene said. “It just means that gender is irrelevant to romance for her.”
“That’s not right,” I said.
“Huh?”
“Gender is relevant.”
“R-really?”
Bisexual people existed, for one, and those who identified as gay or lesbian might consider themselves to not be attracted to a particular gender so much as to a particular person—well, it was complicated. But now that I thought about it, I, personally, wasn’t into men. Gender was definitely relevant to me.
“It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m used to my love being unrequited.”
“I don’t expect Miss Claire to return my feelings. Miss Claire is interested in someone else, and I want to support that. I’m happy just being near her. But even so—”
“But what?” Now Claire had joined in questioning me.
“But even so, I think it would be almost impossible to just completely give up on you, Miss Claire,” I teased, laughing again. No one else laughed this time, either. I needed to stop. “At any rate, Miss Claire, please continue to act the way you always have. I am quite happy with our current arrangement.”
Even if she didn’t get me, even if my feelings were unrequited, I liked Claire. There was no future for us; I knew that. But even so, I couldn’t help hoping.
It would be so much easier if I just fell in love with another lesbian, I thought to myself. But love was something you fell into. You didn’t get to choose whom you loved.