Summer Time (Family) Madness
Hey. Hi. Hello. How long has it been? Idk but the ova made me crave some Renga. But I'm also tired so this is all I have to offer <3
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âLanga! Langa, câmon!â
The quick-paced pitter-patter of Emilyâs shoes was unmistakable, only a few steps behind Langa, but he couldnât bring himself to turn to her, wait for her, look at her. He just wanted to get back into the apartment. He didnât want to deal with her. He just wanted to be alone. He just wanted to be rid of her.Â
Just the thought of talking to Emily left an uneasy pit in Langaâs stomach. The very idea of having a conversation was sickening. There was just too much going on in his bran, emotions and feelings jumbling together, hazing any rational thought he might have previously had. And maybe he had never been the best at deciphering what exactly was bubbling in the pit of his heart or stomach, but right he knew he was furious. Right now, he knew there was a rage in him that a conversation could not and never would quench.
Everything inside of Langa fizzed and popped with anger. All his rage were stabbing at his insides, though he wasnât quite sure who he was mad at. Was this irritation directed at Reki, Reki who had only been himself, flirting with a girl he obviously found pretty? Was it because Reki had flirted with his cousin of all people?Â
Or was his fury pointed at Emily for bothering him at work? For having such an effortless smile that always made the boys fall for her, even when they were kids? For knowing just the right way to laugh, for always excelling at being social and never stumbling when talking to those around her?Â
Or was Langaâs wrath aimed at himself, stabbing him in the heart for being the worst of traitors? Was this all just him being pissed at himself for allowing his feelings to be hurt by something so inevitable? He knew this would happen at some point. He knew heâd eventually watch Reki be mesmerized by someone who wasnât him. He knew he was doomed from the start. Was Langa simply furious at himself for falling for yet another straight boy?Â
âLanga! You canât keep ignoring me like this!âÂ
Emilyâs voice had grown distant, buzzing at the back of Langaâs mind. The familiar voice aggravated him, like that of a mosquito circling him. It was as if she were doing it on purpose, poking and prodding him until he finally screamed. Until he finally cried. Until he finally let it all out. Until everything around him disappeared, leaving him in a void of nothing.Â
Thereâd finally be no Emily in Okinawa. Thereâd be no Okinawa at all. No Japan. No awkwardness. No feelings. No flutters. No boys. No Reki. Or maybe, only Emily would go away. Heâd be finally out of his life, letting him return to all he had known these past few months. Heâd finally be back to feeling nothing but numbness, just as it was before she had set foot in the country. Langa wouldnât be feeling any of this anger he hated so much. And all he desperately wanted was to feel nothing, just like before, because nothing was so much easier than everything. It was so much easier to be numb. Empty. Emotionless. Feelingless. Mess-less. Â
âLanga!â
It was a reflex, violently yanking his arm back as fingers curls around his skin. His knuckles had gone white around the doorknob. The world had gone red around Langa. Anger burned him, but cold laced his words.Â
âDonât touch me.âÂ
âLanga! Itâs been three days!âÂ
Three long and painful days of withdrawal. Three long and painful days of having that damn giggle play over and over in his mind. Three long and painful days of remembering that smile, that twinkle in Rekiâs eyes. Three long and painful days of feeling like a nothing in the eyes of the one who was everything.
âWhat did I even do for you to suddenly avoid me like the plague? I donât even know why you hate me!âÂ
She didnât know what she did? The princess was unaware of the pain she had caused? The little angel didnât know she had done the one thing she had sworn up and down she would never do? Sweet, sweet Emily was innocent as always, wasnât she? Her and her cruel and twisted, sick fucking jokes.
âYou know exactly what you fucking did!âÂ
A wild look bloomed in Emilyâs normally calm but playful eyes. Maybe it matched the look in Langaâs eyes, matched the flames that hazed his vision. The distant honking, the cries of children, the sound of tires against pavement, it all faded out the moment Langa snapped, whipping around to face his cousin. The whole world seemed to stop, cowering at the sight of Langaâs wrath. Everything faded, everything except Emily. Emily with the bright expression. Emily with the glare of ice.Â
âI actually donât fucking know, Langa! I donât fucking know what I did because you wonât fucking tell me! I didnât fucking do anything, goddamn it! Youâre just being a fucking asshole and honestly, I donât even think you know why youâre being such an insufferable fucking bastard! But if you do so happen to know why youâre being such a fucking ass, please, I beg of you, enlighten me. Enlighten me with the knowledge, Langa. Because I donât fucking know what I did and I would goddamn fucking adore knowing why youâre making everyone so fucking miserable with you shitface attitude. So please, if you would be so kind as to tell me, that would be abso-fucking-lutely fantastic!â
A laugh threatened to spill from Langaâs lips. It was an impressive speech, after all. Not everyone would be able to pull out such eloquence, a curse at every second word. But he held back. Langa bit back the laughter, scoffing instead as he folded his arms over his chest.Â
So he was the one making everyone miserable? He was the one with a shitty attitude? That was news to him. Really. Or perhaps, Emily had simply never heard of the concept of a mirror.Â
As the words formed on Langaâs tongue, he felt the venom drip, hot and dangerous. Heâd never been one to be explosive, or even easily angered. Truly, he was more in line with someone who let things roll of his back; he never particularly cared for others or what they had to say about him. But here, now, well, control and politeness were possible the last things on his mind. Heâd regret his words one day, maybe, but there was no point in keeping recklessness and danger trapped like a caged bird.Â
âThatâs real rich coming from the reason why I feel like absolute dogshit. Not that youâd care in the slightest. I should have known. Youâve been the worldâs most entitled little brat of a princess. Or rather, thereâs only ever been you in this world.âÂ
Bitter, poisonous laughter spilled from those perfectly pink-painted lips. Flawlessly manicured fingers touched at her heart as the girl scoffed. And something twisted on her face, something Langa had never seen before. Craze or mania might have been the closest descriptors he could think of to describe the look.Â
âMe? Iâm the brat? Me?â More choked laughter broke her speech. âAre you⌠Are you fucking hearing yourself? You refuse to fucking talk to me for three fucking days, purposefully avoiding me, but Iâm the brat?âÂ
âAlways playing the fucking victim. Well news flash! Youâre not the one whoâs all alone! You still have everyone you love! Youâre not fucking losing everyone youâve ever cared about!âÂ
âOh donât you dare fucking try to guilt trip me! The sad boy card isnât going to work on me. Â Iâm not going to fucking pity you because boo-hoo, little Langa is sad again and mommy isnât here to kiss it all better.â
âI donât fucking want your pity, anyway!âÂ
âLanga! Emily!âÂ
The shout was a bucket of ice water, silencing the two cousins. For the briefest of moment, solidarity was born, an exchange of looks that confirmed what Langa knew was behind him. Ever so slowly, he turned to face his mother. Nanako, the sweetest woman Langa had been blessed to call his mother, despite her anxiety sometimes hindering him while growing up, was almost unrecognizable. Fury filled her eyes as she stood in the doorway. A chill of terror shot through Langaâs bones as she crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes never breaking contact with either child.Â
âIn the apartment. Both of you. Now.âÂ
Like schoolchildren, both followed the woman up the stairs, their gazes fixed on their feet. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, but it was nowhere near as palpable as the fear that coursed through Langaâs body. He felt his nails digging into his palms, his anger still pulsing through his veins. His cheeks were flushed with burning rage, but never could it compare to the ice of fear. It was that which kept him from talking. It was that which kept him silent. He wouldnât dare make his mother angrier than she already was.Â
Like schoolchildren, Langa followed Emilyâs lead, dropping his body into the opposite side of the couch. She wasnât looking at him, refusing to acknowledge his presence, and once more, he followed her lead. If she didnât want to see him, then neither did he. His feet would be far more interesting than her stupid face could ever be. His lap and feet would be the only thing heâd be looking at for awhile; it was still far scarier to face his mother than it would be to look at a fuming Emily. Every little glance Langa had gotten of his mother, the woman standing in front of them, her arms crossed as she tapped her foot repeatedly, had sent chills down his spine. The mixture of anger, annoyance, and disappointment was more than Langa could ever bear. Never had he felt so small under her glare. Never had he felt so scared of his own mother.Â
âSo,â Nanako let out breath, something to stabilize her unnaturally calm tone. However, despite her efforts, it was still painfully obvious she was not pleased with either child. âWhich one of you two is going to explain to me why I could hear you yelling profanities outside at each other from my kitchen?â
âLangaâs being a little bitch.âÂ
âEmily, language. You are talking about my son.âÂ
More poison broke from Emilyâs lips. Her huff leaned dangerously close to mocking laughter as she leaned into the armrest. Her eyes still didnât dare meet those of Nanako; she didnât have a death wish, after all.
âExactly. Heâs your son. Youâre gonna take his side no matter what happened. So what even is the use of his? Just do your worst and lets just it over with already.â
Nanako sighed, her eyes falling shut as she pinched the bridge of her nose. It was the first time since the start of this whole ordeal that Langa found the courage to look at his mother; her age began to show through her expression, fatigue and annoyance seamlessly intertwined with one another. And yet, it was still all so new, that look of what might have been exasperation, or maybe annoyance. Langa wasnât sure; heâd never seen that look upon his motherâs face.Â
âYou guys arenât five anymore. You arenât children fighting over the last candy bar. And Iâm too old to be scolding you and sending you to your rooms to reflect on your actions. Youâre both adults. You are adults who are smart enough to know right from wrong. You are adults who should be capable of acting your age. You are adults who should know better than to get into a screaming match, yelling at each other like children.â Another deep breath shook Nanakoâs breath. âIâm not going to take anyoneâs side, because I know you are both partially responsible for what happened. Neither one of you is some kind of innocent angel, but I want to understand why Iâve been living through hell this week. I want to understand why you,â brown eyes locked with blue, sending once more chills down the boyâs spine as he straightened out, âhave been avoiding your cousin like the plague. And you,â Emily recoiled when Nanako turned to her, âI want to know why you were swearing enough to put a sailor to shame. And loud enough for the whole world to hear you? This is a quiet, residential area, not downtown Vancouver where you can barely hear the person youâre yelling at.âÂ
Silence fell over the two once more. Neither one of them was ready to talk. Neither one of them was ready to explain anything. Langa knew he wasnât in any condition to be rational and clearly explain his side of the story. He knew the moment he would open his mouth to try to explain anything, try to put everything out there, he would break down. He knew that if he dared try to let anything out, a waterfall of something would beat down on the earth, something he wasnât ready to let the world witness. And yet, despite those fears, he knew he had to be the bigger person. He knew he had to break the silence.Â
âIâm sorry, mom. Iâve justâŚâ Finally, finally courage swelled deep within Langaâs bones; finally he found in himself to meet his motherâs eyes which seemed to have softened for him. âIâve been a mess.âÂ
âKiss assâŚâÂ
It was too strong. The words snapped out of his mouth, escaping him before he could swallow them back. It was wrong, he should have kept everything to himself, but he was no saint. He never claimed to be one either.
âPrissy bitch.â
âEnough!â Langa flinched at his motherâs snappy tone. âIâve had enough of you two! Both of you, rooms! Now!â Both remained frozen in place, staring at Nanako who seemed unfazed by their wide eyes.Â
âDo not make me repeat myself.â Slowly, hesitantly, Langa pushed himself off the couch; Emily seemed to follow suit. âAnd I want you both calmed before dinner. And you will be talking this through whether you like it or not.âÂ
Another huff fell from her lips as she made her way to the kitchen, immediately reaching for a mug. She seemed so stressed, so strained, so exhausted. She seemed like a shell of her former self, of the woman she normally was, and yet, Langa couldnât bring himself to focus entirely on that. Maybe if he had been a better son, then he would be more concerned with his motherâs sudden outburst. Or maybe there wouldnât have been the need for an outburst; Langa had no idea how to deal with this type of situation. No, all he could do was let his legs lead him to his room. All he could do was feel the numbness wrap itself around every one of his organs, draining him of any type of feeling that might have flowed through him. The only thing left to feel was shame, something adjacent to the burning cheeks of a child stomping off to their room to pout. All he felt was ridiculous and childish.
Cautiously, he shut his door behind him, his back pressed to the wood. Maybe in another life heâd have Emilyâs explosive energy, slamming his door as she had. Maybe in another universe heâd have let out every one of his frustrations, let them finally fizzle out. Maybe in some other world, heâd scream into his pillow. Maybe heâd punch something. Maybe heâd sob until sleep finally took him. Maybe heâd finally find a way to physically strain himself enough that his body would give in, completely passing out. Maybe heâd finally feel normal, less numb. Maybe some other time he would exhaust himself more than only emotionally, but not today. Today, he couldnât bring himself to do any of that. Today, he didnât have the energy to do anything.Â
It was strange, remembering the one time he had let everything out in a fit of violence. Langa had been much younger then, maybe 12, maybe 13. It had been after a particularly bad snowboarding competition, though the moment and reasons had now grown hazy with time. But one thing had been certain: tears had steamed down his face, sobs choking him as he kicked and hit whatever he could in his room. His pillow had taken the bulk of it, ending up half torn up from his fit. And none of it had left him feeling satisfied. All he had felt afterwards was regret and exhaustion. His misery didnât magically vanish; it was instead amplified upon seeing the state of his room afterwards.Â
Langa simply wasnât explosive, not like Emily. Screaming and shouting and slamming doors just wasnât the way for him to evacuate his frustration. No. No, Langa, he just⌠he needed to disassociate until everything felt almost okay. That was how he had coped whenâŚÂ
Langa let his body flop onto his bed as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. Nothing interesting flashed as the screen lit up. A few texts from Reki appeared in his notifications, though far less than usual. Maybe such was the effect of ignoring the only friend he had.Â
The first day Langa had felt anger well up inside his core, Reki hadnât seemed to take the hint. He had sent him the usual dozens of skating reels and clips. He had been Reki, the same cheery boy heâd always been. The second day, worry seemed to have begun washing over Reki. Text after text came through, asking Langa if everything was alright. And as the hours passed, so did the number of texts Langa received. By the third day, his phone had become a desert. Or at least, almost; Reki was still persistent, sending him a little something every few hours.
I donât know what happened Langa please tell me Iâm sorry Langa Can you please answer me? At least tell me youâre ok? Iâm about to call your mom to make sure youâre not in the hospital or something Langa please
Langa knew it wasnât fair of him to be such a shut-in. He knew it wasnât fair of him to refuse to tell anyone why he was mad. He knew all this, but he also knew he wasnât ready to let it out, as much as he would have loved to just put it all out there. If he were to answer Reki, who knew what might be said; Langa wasnât going to test fate, allowing the possibility of him snapping at Reki as he had just done at Emily. He couldnât risk being cruel to yet another person he cared for.Â
Silence fell with Langaâs phone as he sunk deeper into his mattress. Another day of silence, it seemed. Another day, but it was for the best. Reki could finally spend time with his other friends instead of having Langa monopolize his time, energy, and attention. He could maybe finally find the time to go talk to all those pretty girls his eyes go wide for. Heâd finally be able to make them giggle, flirt with the prettiest of the bunch. And his smile; heâd be smiling wider than he ever has as his fingers intertwine with this pretty girlâs fingers, as sheâd pressed a kiss to his cheek. Reki would be so thrilled to spend time with someone he liked. Heâd be so thrilled to be able to hold hands, touch, kiss. Reki would finally be able to have that sweet first kiss heâd been dreaming of for so long. Heâd finally have a chance to chase that dream, rather than limiting himself to a pathetic and clingy Langa. Â Langa who was so lonely in this dumb, stupid world. Reki didnât have to be like that; he was allowed to have friendships, relationships outside of just Langa.Â
Langa rolled over, burying his face into his pillow as he groaned. The more he thought about Reki, the more he thought of that faceless girl whoâd get to do everything Langa wished he could do with Reki, the more Langa felt sick. Just the thought of some girl getting to kiss Reki, come home to him every day, marry him, share everything with him, it drove Langa insane. Everything inside of him twisted; a little more and heâd be sick on his bed. Pathetic. Useless. Ridiculous.
âLanga, baby?â
Reluctantly, Langa lifted his head from his pillow. His eyes followed the sound of the creaking door, finding his mother standing there, two mugs in hand. Her shoulders seemed heavy, leaning into the doorframe, but that didnât stop her from sporting that maternal look she always had when looking at her son. A sliver of a smile hung from her lips as she waited for him to let her in, be it just with a curt nod as he readjusted his body on the mattress. And with that, she made her way into the room, placing one of the mugs on the nightstand before settling at the edge of the bed.Â
Nanakoâs touch was comforting, that same little pat to Langaâs leg she had always done as he sat up, legs crossed on the bed. Her smile stretched and her eyes relaxed as she pressed the mug into the boyâs hands.Â
âI made you hot chocolate since I know youâre not that big on tea. Thought you could use the pick-me-up.âÂ
There was no reason for Langa to feel so embarrassed. There was no one to judge the scene. There was no one who could laugh at him, pointing fingers. There were no voices chanting that he was a mamaâs boy. In the confines of his own home, in his room, there was no reason to feel embarrassed or ashamed of being cared for by his mother, the woman who had always made it a point to remind him that she would always look out for him, even when he would be big, even when he would be living his own life, even when he would have kids of his own. There was no reason, and yet, the feeling lingered. It lingered as he mumbled out a thanks and took a sip of the drink. It wasnât quite like back in the day, not quite like the chocolates heâd have on the couch after a long day on the slopes, not quite like the hot chocolates that would wait for him on the kitchen table after school, but still, it was sweet. It was sweet enough to fill him with a comforting warmth.Â
âLanga? Whatâs wrong, baby? Youâre not usually soâŚâ Nanako chewed at her thumbnail, brows furrowed. âYouâre usually so much calmer than this. Iâve never seen youâŚâÂ
The waver in his motherâs voice was enough for Langaâs chest to tighten. He had to be a fool to not notice the exhaustion or the worry that lingered on hr facial features. Every word she let out, it was laced with a motherâs natural protectiveness, and yet, it seemed like she was walking on eggshells. Perhaps she genuinely did think that one wrong statement would be enough to send Langa back into a fury. And having all of that staring back at him, all that potential guilt, it was enough to make him choke up. It was enough for him to begin cracking.Â
Donât cry. Donât cry in your motherâs arms. Youâre stronger than this. Youâre not a baby anymore. Donât sob. Hold it in. Donâtâ
âI miss Dad.âÂ
The words fell out as the tears streamed down his cheeks. He should have held them back, bottled them as he had always done. He shouldnât have let the gasp break from his lips, let the sobbing begin. But then again, was it not that very thing that led him here? Was this confession not the real reason he felt like utter, absolute shit? Was it not, in a way, the root of all of this misery?Â
How long had he been afraid of losing someone else so dear to him? How long had the paralyzing fear of being all alone, completely destabilized, abandoned once more held him in such a chokehold? How long had he feared to lose Reki to another? Was this not the very reason for all his frustrations? His anger towards Emily? Towards Reki? Towards himself?Â
âOh, babyâŚâÂ
Langa hadnât realized he had begun shaking until his mother was prying the mug from his fingers and pulling him into a tight hug. He hiccupped into her shoulder, gasping for air between the sobs, as she stroked his hair, pushing his bangs back and gently hushing him as she had always done all those years ago. And just as it had help soothe him the last time he had broken down this badly, the gesture was a welcoming comfort. It had, once again, made opening up just every so slightly easier.Â
âIâ!" Langa gasped, his grip on his motherâs sweater tightening. âI miss him. I miss him so muchâŚâÂ
âSh⌠Sh, I know, baby. I know.âÂ
âI miss Canada. I⌠I miss my room, and our house. I just⌠I miss home, mom. I miss grandma and grandpa. I miss it all so much. I just⌠All of it.âÂ
Langa peeled himself off of his mother as he wiped the tears away. It had been so long since the last time he had sobbed into his motherâs shirt, soaking it with salty tears. When had been the last time he had cried so much? Maybe back when he had been a child, back in Canada, in the neighborhoodâs park, scrapping his knee after falling from the swings? Maybe it had been after a particularly bad loss, out in the mountains? Or maybe after he failed a test for the first time? All those times, the pain had seemed unbearable, but slowly, it faded away, dissipating with every stray tear. Every time, things had felt a lot more dire than they actually were; this time, things were as bad as they felt. Unlike the previous wounds, this one cut much deeper; this one hurt a lot more. This was a wound that had been left untreated for far too long.Â
âI miss the noise of the city. And the snow. And the cold. I missâŚâ Langa hiccupped again, his chest heaving with every ragged breath. âI just miss it all. I miss not having to translate everything and think of every single word I want to say. I miss only having grandma and grandpa to speak Japanese to. I miss not being so behind on everything and I miss being able to write normally. I miss not struggling to read even the most basic signs like a restaurant or street name. I justâŚâ Langa wiped the last few tears away, finally having managed to calm himself down completely. âI miss being myself.âÂ
âBaby, havenât you been yourself? With Reki?â Nanakoâs hands were cool against Langaâs burning cheeks, the circular motion of her thumb soothing as it had always been. âYouâve been smiling so much more lately, if we ignore the last couple of days. And it had been so long since the last time I had heard you laugh as you do now. You seemed so happy, baby.âÂ
Langa watched as his mother paused. A weak smile pulled at the corner of her mouth as she pulled back, her fingers curling once more around her mug. There was more she wanted to say, so much was obvious, but just like her son, wording it was difficult. So they sat there, basking in the silence, until Nanakoâs light chuckle broke it once more.Â
âYou know, I was so afraid that bring you here wouldnât change anything. I was terrified that it would be Canada all over again. I stressed morning, day, and night that youâd still be terrified to talk to kids your age, if not even more now because of the language barrier. Because, I just⌠I really thought you were just a shy kid and that it was completely normal for you to hide behind me or your father whenever anyone would talk to you. I remember laughing about, thinking it was the most adorable thing when you were a toddler. But then, you were still doing it at 14. And I donât know if you were scared of talking to others, or if you genuinely had no interest in them, but all I ever wanted was for you to have friends your own age. And real friends, kids that you would hang out with after school and go do whatever dumb things boys normally do. Thatâs all I ever wanted for you. I wanted you to break out of your shell, and finally, you did! Baby, you have a friend! You have Reki! And I donât think you know how happy it makes me to see you go out all the time. Langa, it makes me so happy to see you happy. Iâm so grateful to see you be, well⌠you.âÂ
Had he really been himself with Reki? If anything, it felt like the opposite; Langa felt so deceitful, so not himself around Reki. He had always made it a point to hide parts of himself that he knew wouldnât be fun to have around. Or was he being himself? Was it possible for him to be himself but also conceal crucial parts of himself? Was it possible for those two things to coexist? There was just so much more to Langa; there were a million extra little things that made him who he truly was, but none of those things could be brought out, shown to the sun.Â
âI canâtâŚâ Langa felt his throat clog up, but still, he persisted. âI just canât⌠Thereâs no way for me to⌠He still doesnât know that⌠Iâm justâ Heâ Iâ!âÂ
âYouâll figure it out, I know you will. I know, because youâre my son, and I know my son can do whatever he sets his mind to.â A small smile tugged at the corners of Langaâs mouth as his mother gave his shoulder a squeeze. âThings will be alright; I promise they will.âÂ
He didnât resist his mother pressing a kiss to his hair, whispering an âI love youâ as she had once had the habit of doing. A lifetime might have gone by since then, but still, Langa remembered needing his good night kiss, every night. Without it, there was no way he was falling asleep, at least not until he was about 10, suddenly deciding that kisses were only for babies and moms werenât cool anymore. Oh, the influences of eavesdropping around the playground at school.Â
There was not point in denying to himself that he wished his mother had continued pressing kisses to his head and cheeks, despite all his youthful protests. If she had continued, or had Langa not been so stubborn, then maybe things wouldnât be so tense. Nowadays, Nanako didnât give him much physical affection. Smiles and reminders of her love for him still happened nearly on the daily, but hugs between them were scarce and kisses even rarer. But now, a warm feeling swelled inside of Langa as Nanako held him, showering him with affection just as she used to when he was a child. And it was nice. It was a nice feeling that Langa had forgotten about. It was a really nice feeling.Â
âSo, will you finally tell me why you were screaming at your cousin outside?âÂ
Langa blinked, finally being pulled back to the present day. His argument with Emily, he had basically forgotten about it. Heâd been so caught up in his own downpour of emotions that he had forgotten that the scream-fest right outside the apartment complex had been the reason for his current captivity. He had long forgotten about the bubbles of anger in the pit of his stomach.Â
Langaâs gaze fell aside as he took a deep breath. Now, with this new found clarity, the reason for his outburst was stupid. Like, really stupid.Â
âReki hit on her?â
The whisper that left his lips sounded way worse than when it was but a scream in his head. Not only did it sound absolutely ridiculous, but those words also forced him to relive the scene over and over again, as if the darkness of the night wasnât enough to torture him with the mental images. Those words, they conjured up the image of the smiles. Of the laughter. Of the teasing. The obvious chasing. The buzzing. The ringing. The panicking. The blurring. The leaving. The running. The crying. Those words, they forced Langa to relive the situation, something far worse than living it in the moment. Thinking back to it forced him to acknowledge what happened, searing the images in his mind. Another nightmare turned to reality.
âBaby, are you certain?âÂ
The laughter felt like venom dripping from Langaâs lips, bitter and angry. Was he certain? Absolutely. There was no doubt in Langaâs mind that Reki had been flirting with the traitor. Heâd seen him flirt in the past; the near same exact words had been used again. And Emily? Well, Langa hadnât stuck around long enough to know what she had done in return, locking himself in the backroom before he would be sick.Â
âLanga, have you tried talking to Reki about this?âÂ
âAnd say what?â Nanako barely reacted as Langa threw his hands up in the air before crashing back into his mattress, fingers gripping at his hair. âHey, could you not hit on my cousin and flirt with me instead? Could we pretend Iâm a pretty girl instead? Iâll even grow my hair out longer if that could help you out! Or how about you open your eyes to see how absolutely broken I am? Or,â the laughter was hysterical, tears welling at the corners of Langaâs eyes once more, tears he couldnât claw away fast enough, âor how absolutely fucking I am in the head? How Iâm not normal for⌠for this mess? Because Iâm a⌠IâmâŚâÂ
Langa gasped for air. Suffocating. He was suffocating in this room, this room that was too small, this room that was closing up on him. He needed air. He needed to be outside. He needed to be out in the open. He needed to be anywhere other than in this room. He needed to be let out of this cage. He needed to get out. Trapped. Choking. Out.Â
âBaby.â Nanakoâs hand on his leg pulled Langa back to earth, back to the room, back to a place of safety. âYouâre none of those things. Langa, you know youâre none of those things.âÂ
âWhy canât I just be like all the others? Why canât I just⌠Itâs be so much easier if I just liked girls.â
Never in his entire life did Langa think he would utter those words. Never had he ever thought of a single instance where he would have to say those words. For as long as he could remember, he had been proud of his sexuality. It had always been a part of himself that he had embraced without a problem, never shying away from the fact that he liked boys. He had never felt the need to hide that part of himself. And sure, it probably helped that his parents did not flinch when he first hinted at it; they had never questioned him, nor had they ever suggested it was unacceptable. And while he never explicitly came out to them, he had been pretty open about his queerness. Everyone had accepted it as fact that Langa liked boys and that was the end of the conversation. Well, other than his grandmother who still asked him when he was going to bring home a nice girl from school.Â
Truly, being gay was the least of Langaâs problems. At least, it used to be. It never mattered to him that he liked boy. And if people couldnât accept that, then there was no reason for Langa to associate himself with them. There was no denial phase; never had he tried to convince himself that he liked girls. Never had he ever wished himself to be straight. His sexuality, there was never any questioning or any desire to try to fit into a mold. He liked boys and that was that. End of story. At least, until now it had been.
Now, well, there was no desire to become straight, not that he could change that core part of himself. No, but maybe it wouldâve been easier if he had just been like the majority and liked girls. And it wasnât like it would be difficult! He wasnât stupid; anyone with eyes knew that girls were pretty. Just like how boys could be pretty. Just like how Reki was just so goddamn pretty.Â
Maybe everything would have been so much easier if he didnât like Reki as much as he did. Â
âYou know thatâs not how that works.â
A pillow swallowed Langaâs muffled groan. âIâm painfully aware.âÂ
Nanako signed as she got up from the bed. She gave Langaâs leg one last comforting pat, a warm touch that was enough for him to peer above his pillow again, before sending him a smile as she made her way towards the door. And that smile was what Langa needed to realize how lucky he was to have her as a mother. He hadnât fully grasped how lucky he was to have a mother who loved him as unconditionally as Nanako did. He never stopped being her baby boy; if she was here now, sheâd always be there for him.
âIâm going to go check on your cousin, see if sheâs a little calmer now. And Iâm going to go make dinner. If you need me, you know where to find me.â She pushed the door open before turning back to her son with that same soft smile she always wore for him. âYou can always talk to me, Langa. Always. Whenever. Even when itâs weird. And while I donât promise to always know what to say, or how to answer all your questions, I will always try my best. And Iâll always be there for you.â A pause; the crinkle by her eyes was almost embarrassing to spot. âI love you, baby. I love you so much, my son.âÂ
âLove you too, mom.âÂ
âAnd youâre perfect. Youâre not broken. Donât you ever forget that.âÂ
Langa sighed, dropping the pillow back onto his head as Nanako closed the door behind herself. Youâre not broken. The words rand in Langaâs ears. Youâre perfect. He definitely didnât feel perfect. If anything, he was a complete mess. There was so, so much he could fix about himself, and even more that he could change about himself. Maybe, just maybe, everything would be a little easier if he managed to be who everyone else wanted him to be?Â
The buzzing in his ears echoed in his brain. It echoed through the room, that rhythmic buzzing that always seemed to get louder. It just didnât stop. It just buzzed. And buzzed. And buzzed. AndâŚÂ
Langaâs heart leap to his throat as he scrambled off his bed. Buzzing, buzzing, buzzing. His phone. It was his phone. It was the phone that had fallen earlier. It was his phone that was echoing through his room. It was his phone that was struggling to light up the underside of his bed, lost among the stray socks and t-shirts he had kicked under there in an attempt to clean his room.Â
Hastily, he grabbed it, his eyes falling on Rekiâs contact picture flashing across his screen. A smile was bitten back as Langa stared at the immortalized grin directed right at him. That smile, it was all for him. It was a grin no one else got to see. That one, it was the brightest, widest grin Langa had ever gotten the pleasure of seeing in his life; it was no wonder he had felt the need to pull out his phone to capture the moment. And now, with the tricks of time, he had forgotten why Reki had smiled that wide. Maybe it was because he had finally pulled off a trick he had been practicing for hours, days, weeks. Maybe it had been the victory that accompanied a good test grade. There was no way to truly knowing anymore what had caused such a grin; the memory had turned hazy, its details lost like the days prior. But one thing was for certain: that was the brightest smile of all and he would do anything toâ!
Silence and darkness rested in the palm of Langaâs hand. His reflection stared back at him before being briefly broken up by a flash of a notification: Missed call from Reki. Reki had called him. Reki who never, ever called, had dialed his number. Reki was reaching out to him and Langa had failed to answer. He had missed his one chance at actually talking to Reki.Â
Mortified didnât even begin to describe the feeling growing in his chest and cheeks. How could be so stupidly caught up in staring at a picture of best friend that it didnât register for a single second that it was a call coming in? How could he be so stupidly mesmerized by Rekiâs ridiculously adorable grin that he had forgotten that his phone wouldnât ring forever and that he had to answer his fucking phone? How could he be such a fucking dumbass? Why was he such a dumbass who was way too down bad?Â
The screen lit up once more, Rekiâs name reappearing.Â
Sorry, guess youâre busy I just miss you
Langaâs inside tightened once more, his heart skipping a beat. Reki missed him. Reki wanted to talk to him. Reki wanted to hear his voice. Reki was reaching out. And it was stupid to have not realized any of this earlier. It was worse that he hadnât done anything to prevent them getting to this point. It wasnât like Langa didnât want to hear Rekiâs voice as well. If anything, he didnât just want to hear that laughter, that voice that always picked up whatever broken part left shattered on the ground; Langa needed to hear Rekiâs voice. He needed to call him back. He needed to finally do something about this mess he had created.Â
Clumsy fingers unlocked the phone before frantically scrolling through the ungodly number of apps that needed to be deleted. But all of that could wait. Right now, only one thing rang, pounded in Langaâs brain: phone. Reki. Phone. Reki. Nothing in the world other than calling Reki mattered. Nothing.Â
âLanga?â
A wave of relieve crashed against Langaâs chest, a feeling he wasnât particularly proud of. Still, it left him with a dopey grin he didnât even try to hide. Rekiâs voice had come through only an instant later; he hadnât been like Langa, staring at the screen, not doing anything. Reki, he barely let the phone ring a single time. Reki, he was so quick to fill Langaâs head with his sweet voice. Reki, whether or not he knew it, he was undeniably Langaâs anchor in life.Â
âHey.âÂ
Langa felt his voice crack on the single word. No matter how relieving it was to hear Rekiâs voice, something still choked him from the inside. Relief crashed against his ribs, but something was still stabbing him. Something hurt. Something made Langaâs inside twist.Â
Reki was everything he had wanted. His voice was the one thing he craved more than life itself. Getting to talk to Reki again was his one goal, and yet⌠Nothing had ever hurt so badly. RekiâŚÂ
âYou alright, man? You soundâŚâ There was a pause, a deafening silence between the two. âYou sound like you just cried.âÂ
It was almost scary how easily Reki would pick up on things. Heâd always been weirdly perceptive with these types of things, never needing to be near to know something was off with Langa. He didnât need to see the puffy red eyes, the shaky, heaving breaths, or the tear-stained cheeks. All it took was a single word for Reki to know something was wrong. Just one crack and Reki had him all figured out. Well, almost figured out. If Reki really was a mind reader, or if Langa was as much of an open book as he felt in the moment, then neither of them would be in this current situation. If Reki had known everything, then he could have walked away a long, long time ago.
âIâm fine. Really. But you called.â A pause. âYou never call.âÂ
âJust wanted to check up on you. You just⌠seemed to be avoiding me and all since our last shift, and I donât really know why. But I know itâs something I did or maybe some dumb shit I said? Since Iâm always saying some dumb shit becauseâŚâ The short, choked laugh felt like another stab to the heart. âYâknow, Iâm just dumb andââ
âYouâre not dumb.âÂ
âBut I am sorry.âÂ
An apology? What was Reki apologizing for? He didnât really have anything to apologize for. If anything, Langa was the one who needed to apologize to Reki. He was the one who needed to say sorry for running off, for ignoring him, for being dumb. Not Reki. Reki didnât really have anything to apologize for.
âYou donât even know why youâre apologizing.âÂ
âI hurt you somehow and I want to say sorry for that. And maybe I donât really know what I did, but I know I did something. Itâs pretty obvious something upset you. So Iâm saying sorry for upsetting you and hoping that youâll tell me what it is I did so I can never do it again. So, please, Langa? Tell me what I did wrong?â
Tell me what I did wrong so I can never do it again. If only Reki knew. If only he knew what had started this whole spiral of Langaâs. But asking him to stop, that would be unfair to Reki. Never repeating what he had done was impossible. It wasnât possible or fair to stop Reki from flirting with people, with the girls he liked just because Lagna wanted to be the center of his universe. Reki was allowed to fond someone to eventually love; Langa wasnât allowed to get in the middle of that.Â
âYou didnât do anything. Iâve just been having bad days.âÂ
âIs that why youâre crying?âÂ
Crying? Langa wasnât crying anymore. Maybe before, maybe when his mother had been in the room with him, but not anymore. Now he wasâoh.Â
Instinctively, Langa touched his damp cheek. So there were more tears. There were more pathetic tears.
âLanga, Iâm coming over. I gotta. I canât just leave you like this.â
âPlease donât.â Another chocked sob was muffled by Langaâs hand. âPlease.â
âLangaâŚâÂ
Oh, there was nothing worse than hearing Reki pleading to be let in. He had never been one to push, always preferring to let things happen when the time was right, but he also knew first hand what it was like to be hurt by his best friend. He knew what it had been like to be hurt by Langa. And he had sworn to never let himself hurt Langa, or at least never let it fester as they had the last time. If there was one promise he would not be breaking, it was the promise to make things better. He had promised to be the shoulder Langa could cry on. Reki promised to be there, Reki who knew how much it sucked to be crying alone.Â
âLanga, please, can I come over?âÂ
âOkay.â
It was barely over a whisper. It barely left Langaâs lips, barely making it into the world, but Reki had heard him. Reki had heard his answer and that was all that mattered. All that had ever mattered was that Reki was there.
Everything had gone so quickly; everything had been so chaotic. Langa hadnât managed to pinpoint at what moment exactly Reki had left his house, but he knew he was outside under the setting sun. The wind whooshed, a scratching sound muffling Reki through the phone. But that didnât stop the boy from rambling on, talking about everything and nothing. He just kept talking, filling the silence Langa had expected. Because he really had expected Reki to hang up before making his way to the apartment, but he never ended the call. He just did what he did best: he held a conversation with himself, retelling funny stories that Langa had already heard a thousand times but always managed to pull a laugh out him. Reki just talked: about his sisters, about work, about S, about their friends. Reki repeated stories about all of them, never stopping, always talking by himself. And never was there a hint of discomfort or awkwardness; this was, after all, another of Rekiâs many talents.Â
The call disconnected as a light knock on the door echoed through the room. Langa didnât have time to answer before the door was creaking open, revealing amber eyes and a pretty smile. A pretty smile all for Langa. A pretty smile that was not for Langa. A pretty smile that filled Langa with joy. A pretty smile that filled him with hurt and dread.Â
âWhat happened to you, man?âÂ
Langa pressed his back to wall and pulled his knees to his chest as Reki sank down into the mattress. His eyes flickered between the boy and the floor as he thought of an answer to the question, because what had happened to Langa? Everything? Nothing? It felt like a lifetime had happened to him in only a few short years, months, days, hours⌠So much had happened, too much had happened, and yet, nothing that he could share. He couldnât tell Reki a single thing that had happened to him.Â
âJust in a mood.â That was what Langa settled on. He accompanied it with a shrug, hoping, praying that his voice wasnât betraying him once more.Â
âIs it something I said? I know I can be an idiot sometimes and Iâ!âÂ
âYouâre not an idiot, Reki. Donât⌠Donât ever say that about yourself. Youâre not dumb or idiotic or any of those things. Youâre amazing. YouâreâŚâ Big amber eyes stared at Langa, eyes that seemed full of something he couldnât quite describe or understand. âIâm the idiot.â
Silence weighed down on both boys, a silence so different from that comfortable one Langa was so used to. This time, it was tense and thick enough to slice with a knife. It was one of the worst things Langa have experienced in a very long time.Â
âWhen she let me in, your momâŚâ If those amber eyes flickered one more time between Langa and Rekiâs knees, he might have just screamed. âShe said that you got into a fight with your cousin and thatâs why youâre allâŚâ Reki gestured vaguely in Langaâs direction, the cuffs of his hoodie covering most of his hands. âAnd I just⌠Is it âcause I suggested teaching her how to skate?âÂ
Yes.
âNo.âÂ
More silence. Nails picked at skin before being swatted away by Langa. Then eyes. Big, round, amber eyes filled with pain. A look of fear, something akin to a puppy being kicked.Â
âItâs just that she seemed so bored and I know that skating cheered you up, so I thought⌠maybe it would cheer her up too? And I donât know, but I thought maybe sheâd pick up on it as quickly as you did? And sheâd get to feel free or something like that? âCause you donât have to talk or anything when skating? And also, I thought itâd be kinda cool if she did end up being good at skating, âspecially since we donât know any girls who skate?âÂ
âKoyomi skates.âÂ
âYeah but thatâs my little sister! It doesnât count and itâs not cool!âÂ
âEmmyâs my cousin. Whatâs the difference between her and Koyomi?âÂ
Reki chewed at his lip. He had no answer, just as Langa had expected, because there was no difference between Koyomi and Emily. Or rather, it was because of one very obvious difference between the girls.
âItâs because you like her, isnât it?âÂ
The question dripped in pain, pain he hadnât meant to let slip out but simply could not contain anymore. He couldnât bottle it up anymore. The uncertainty, the possibility, it was slowly killing him. Not knowing the full extent of the truth was like death by a thousand cuts; it was slow and excruciating. But now, now that it was out in the open, maybe, just maybe, Langa would be able to grieve properly. With Rekiâs agreement, with his confession, heâd finally be able to let his feelings die down; heâd finally be able to move on from whatever little hope he so desperately clung onto. With Reki finally admitting that he liked girls, he liked Emily, Langa would finally be able to stop breaking his own heart with the smallest slivers of delusion.
âNo! Yes? I meanâŚ. I donât know, man. Like, sheâs cool and all, but I⌠I just⌠Do I like her?âÂ
Langa shrugged, not quite able to meet Rekiâs eyes. His head was saying yes, but his heart was screaming no. And no matter how hard he tried, Langa knew there would be no consensus between those two fundamental parts of himself. There was simply no way they could agree on this topic. Then again, rationality and feelings rarely agreed with one another.Â
âEmilyâs real cool and all, butâŚâ Hoodie sleeves covered Rekiâs hands once more, the fabric being pulled and stretched and twisted and bunched. âLike, I know itâs kinda hard talking to her since, yâknow, the whole language thing, but I still do like hangout with her. I like hanging out with her and talking to her âcause she just⌠I donât know⌠She kinda reminds me of you?âÂ
Langa blinked at the boy who was now staring at him. He stared as he processed the words; Emily reminded Reki of Langa. Emily, the preppy, over-the-top, extroverted chatterbox, reminded Reki of Langa, the boy known for his silence. Emily and Langa, the cousins who could not be any more different from one another. Somehow, Reki saw some Langa in Emily. And by that logic, he saw some Emily in Langa.Â
âHow?âÂ
A snort escaped Reki before he could clasp a hand over his mouth. A snort followed by an eruption of laughter, a sound that had his whole body shaking. A sound that had Langaâs heart melting and freezing over all at the same time.Â
âI- I donât know? You two are just⌠Youâre both so stupidly stubborn and reckless. And neither one of you care that others think of you! Youâre also bothâŚâ A deep breath steadied Rekiâs speech. âOkay, so youâre way more polite than she is â Iâve never actually seen someone flip a person off in the streets, but I guess the guy did deserve it â but you both stand up for yourselves. And youâre also both super impulsive and just⌠I donât know! Youâre just similar!âÂ
Similar. Langa and Emily. Emily who was the definition of outgoing. Emily who lived on a stage. Emily who made a show out of everything she did. Emily who lived to be the center of attention. How was she anything like Langa? How could she be anything like the boy who dreaded being around other people? How could she be anything like Langa who hated talking, who didnât give a single shit about what other people thought of him because that would require him to acknowledge others thought of him? How was she anything like him, the boy who panicked so easily but rarely ever showed it? It was impossible for them to be anything alive; they were, by definition, polar opposites. South and north. Hot and cold.Â
âYou are insane, Reki.âÂ
âGee,â Reki rubbed his nose, chuckling lightly, âthanks, man. Real good for the self-esteem there.âÂ
Langa tensed at the words. Another difference between him and Emily: she was amazing with people while he was absolute shit. He always managed to say the wrong things. He always managed to make everything worse.Â
âIâm kidding! Dude, Iâm just joking! Donât gotta freak out!âÂ
Rekiâs voice faded out as warmth wrapped around Langaâs shoulders, leaving him frozen in place. A hug. Reki was hugging him. Reki was hugging him, fingers gripping the back of his t-shirt. Reki was hugging him, holding him close, holding him like he could slip out of his grip at any moment. Reki was hugging him, and Langa? What could Langa do other than loop his arms around Rekiâs waist, hugging him right back?Â
âYou mean everything to me.â The English broke out, Rekiâs shoulder muffling the words. Langa simply didnât have the words in Japanese to say what he needed to say; the words he knew werenât correct. English was just easier â safer â as he squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to stain Rekiâs sweater with more tears. The wobbly English was just easier than any attempt at formulating a Japanese sentence. âI donât know if you know this, but youâre my everything. Youâre my favorite person, my only person. Youâre honestly the only person I actually like, because⌠Youâre just so amazing. Youâre the most amazing person I have ever met and youâre just so great. Youâre⌠I donât know what Iâd do without you. So pleaseâŚâ Another gasp. A tighter grasp of Rekiâs hoodie. âPlease donât leave me. Please donât go. Please⌠Please, youâre just⌠Youâre my everything.âÂ
Langaâs fingers dug into the fabric of the hoodie as Reki patted his back. He could feel himself shaking as he clung onto Reki. He could feel the horrid feeling pulsing through his whole body, but he couldnât bring himself to let go of Reki. Not yet. Right now, he just needed this. He needed Reki for just for one moment more.Â
âHey, Langa, dudeâŚâ Another pat. âI⌠have no idea what you just said, but like, everythingâs gonna be fine. But also, dude, I have never heard you talk so fast? I couldnât even make out where the words separated! You talk crazy fast, dâyou know that?â
âSâfine.â The sniffling felt gross, but better sniffling than ruining Rekiâs hoodie. âTâwas nothing. Just dumb stuff. Nothing important.â Reki gave Langaâs back one last pat before pulling back, creating some distance between the two. His smile was bright, something so similar to the morning sun, warm and beautiful. This, this was a smile just for Langa.Â
âIf you say so, dude. But,â Reki rubbed his neck sheepishly, a grin to match, âI really should be heading home now. I was so worried for you, man, that I skipped dinner at my place.âÂ
âYou can eat with us. Thereâll be enough.â
Reki opened his mouth to protest, but quickly closed it as Langa placed his hand on Rekiâs arm. It was selfish, sure, but he needed just a little more time with Reki. He needed just a little longer with Reki present, physically.Â
âPlease, Reki?â Everything was on autopilot; when had his fingers curled around Rekiâs wrist? âPlease, for all the times Iâve eaten at your place, please stay this one time?âÂ
Reki signed, his whole body slouching down as he nodded with a grin. âFine. Sure. And if there isnât enough for me, then Iâll just eat out of your plate since you eat more than a small family of four.â

















