Chapter Text
Langa was not having a good day. First, he’d tried to get a job, only to discover that nobody wanted to hire a 17-year-old Canadian who couldn’t fill out a resume in Japanese. By the time he found his way school, he was already exhausted, and then he’d had to introduce himself in front of the whole class. Everyone whispered behind their hands and made weird faces at him, and the only open seat was next to a guy who looked friendly but fell asleep almost as soon as Langa opened his mouth to speak. Was Langa really that boring? Langa had felt a sudden pang of sympathy for all the new students who had joined his old school back in Canada over the years. He should have been friendlier to them. He should have, oh no, and now he wouldn’t make any friends here either, because he was boring and bad with words.
People did try to talk to him throughout the school day, but he had no idea what he was supposed to say to them. He tried to be friendly, but it was exhausting. What did people talk about all day?
Finally, finally, he made it through the day, and was escaping home, when he walked in front of the red-headed guy who slept through class, just as he hit a golf ball through a window.
The initial shock of seeing someone playing golf at his new school in Okinawa wore off quickly and was replaced with panic about getting in trouble on his very first day. For some reason, he let Reki drag him away, effectively making him complicit in vandalism, and now they were standing on some random street, laughing about how they were both definitely, definitely going to fail an assignment.
Langa knew that good days could take a turn for the worse, but he wasn’t used to bad days taking a turn for the better.
Reki’s laughter subsided, and Langa’s joy turned to worry. Would Reki leave him now? How could he keep this conversation going? Finding words was always hard for Langa, especially under pressure.
He wanted to hear Reki laugh again, but he wasn’t funny.
“So, new guy, how was your first day?” Reki asked him, his voice catching on a post-laughter hiccup when he reached the word ‘guy.’
“It was…” Langa started, wondering if he should tell the truth. He could hardly tell in English when people wanted the truth, or when they were just being polite (in Canada, they were usually just being polite), so his chances of getting it right in Japanese were slim. He looked at Reki, who looked back at him with an eager, open expression, and decided to take those chances. “Not good,” he said. “It was not a good day.”
“Aw, man, that sucks,” Reki said. “Do you not like school, then? If you don’t like school, you’re not gonna have any good days in there.”
Reki was still talking to him. Reki wanted to keep their conversation going. He had to say something. “No. I…I don’t like school.” To his surprise, Reki laughed again. Langa wasn’t sure if Reki was making fun of him, or if he had said something funny. He didn’t think he had said something funny. Was there something stuck to his shirt? Had he worn his jacket inside out again? Quickly, he ran his thumb on the cuff of his sleeve. No, it was right side out.
Reki clapped a hand on Langa’s shoulder. “So you are cool, then! School is the worst, man. Everyone else just tries so hard, you know? But we never learn anything interesting. I would much rather be, well, pretty much anywhere else.”
Langa frowned. “Did you think that I, um, that I wasn’t cool?”
“I was half asleep, but you look like you would be into school. I didn’t mean that you weren’t cool at all, but I thought you were like, a different kind of cool. Not my kind. Not that I think I’m cool—well, maybe I do. I did just break a window, so. Who knows.” Reki threw his arms out to the side and grinned.
Langa took another chance. “I think you’re cool.” He didn’t know Reki, not at all, really, but he knew it was true. He thought Reki was better than cool—he was awesome, maybe.
Laughing again, Reki said, “Thanks, man.”
Shifting awkwardly on his feet, Langa was back to finding a conversation topic. His eyes darted around, searching for options, when his gaze landed on Reki’s backpack, and a bit of silver glinting from the unzipped top. “What were you doing, anyway? Playing golf at school?”
Reki caught his gaze, knelt down, and took out his club. He extended the handle and passed it to Langa, saying, “Practicing. Not for golf. Mini golf.”
Langa turned the club over in his hands and tested the handle. “Mini…golf?” he asked.
“Yeah!” Reki replied. “You ever played?”
Langa shook his head. “No…I mean, maybe, once. In Canada. I don’t know if it was the same kind, though.”
“Why’s that?”
“It’s cold most of the year there, so they have it indoors. And this one was glow in the dark.”
“What?” Reki exclaimed, bouncing to his feet. “That’s sick! I bet that was just, like, awesome. Was it awesome? Tell me it was awesome.”
“It was…okay,” Langa said, honestly. “I wasn’t very good.” He paused, unsure of whether he should say the next part.
“It’s tricky to get started,” Reki said encouragingly.
“No, that’s not it. I can’t—” Langa took a deep breath. He’d never told anyone about this before, but for some reason, he trusted Reki. Maybe because Reki had made him laugh, and he couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed. “I can’t see in the dark. I’m night blind.” Quickly, he added. “Not completely! But everything is blurry, and I bump into stuff, and…yeah.”
He waited for Reki to reject him, to say he was weird, to say he was lying, to shove him into a dark alley and make him prove it. But Reki didn’t do any of those things. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and said, “Oh, man, that’s tough. Wait, do you need to get home, then?” He tipped his head back to look at the sky, which was still bright with daylight. “I don’t know how soon it will be dark.”
Langa felt himself smile. It was a weird feeling. Had smiling always felt so strange? “I’m okay, thanks.”
“All right. Hey! That means you could totally play mini golf. You just can’t do it in the dark. Right?”
“Um, yeah, I guess?”
Suddenly, Reki’s entire demeanor changed. He seemed…nervous? He fiddled with a pin on his hoodie and stared at the ground. “Would you want to, you know, play sometime? I can teach you.”
“Okay,” Langa said, without hesitation.
Reki beamed and threw his fist in the air. “Yes! This is gonna be amazing. You’ll love it. I promise.”
Langa looked around, as if a mini golf course would suddenly appear on the sidewalk. “Where do you play?” he asked.
“Oh, anywhere,” Reki said. “But that’s all just practice for the main event.”
“Main event?”
“Yeah, it’s this—you know what? It’s better if I show you. What are you doing tonight at midnight?”
That caught Langa off guard, and he answered honestly. “Sleeping.”
Reki laughed. “So, nothing. Okay. I’ll come get you an hour before.”
“Get me from where?”
“Your house? I don’t want to make you meet me somewhere if you can’t see where you’re going.”
It took Langa by surprise—how quickly Reki had adapted to his needs. “Oh, yeah, okay, of course. You can—you can come to my house.”
“Sweet!” Reki said. “Here, hold on a second.” He opened his backpack and yanked out a collection of crumpled papers, a tattered book, gum wrappers, and crushed water bottles, placing them all on the sidewalk. Langa’s fingers twitched with the urge to pick up the trash before it blew away in the breeze. “Gotcha!” Reki exclaimed, now elbow-deep in his backpack. He drew his arm out and said to Langa in a singsong voice, “Close your eyes and hold out your hand!”
Langa obeyed, closing his eyes and stretching out his hand. Something cold touched his palm, and he opened his eyes to see that a lacquered blue golf ball now sat in his palm. “What’s this for?”
“A deposit,” Reki said, raising his pointer finger and wagging it. “If I don’t show up, you get to keep it. It’s perfect, see, because it’s the same color as your hair.”
“Oh, okay, thank you.” Langa curled his fingers around the golf ball and tucked it into his pocket. With his other hand, he touched his hair.
“You got it! This is gonna be so awesome.”
They walked together until Reki reached his turn and waved goodbye. Langa paused on the sidewalk after Reki disappeared from view, feeling slightly dazed. He took the golf ball from his pocket and rolled it around in his hand while he walked home.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
An hour before midnight, Langa slipped out of his room. He felt bad about sneaking out, especially so soon after moving to Okinawa, but he didn’t know how to tell his mom that he was going out to some mysterious location with a boy he’d just met.
Even in his head, it sounded bad. Langa knew it would sound awful if he tried to say it aloud.
Outside, Reki already waited for him, standing directly in the light from a streetlamp. He greeted Langa with a big grin. “Hey! You showed.”
“So did you,” Langa said, stretching out his hand. “Here’s your ball.”
Reki closed Langa’s fingers around it and gently pushed his hand back. “You should keep it,” he said. “If I’m going to teach you, you’ll need it anyway.”
Langa hesitated and nodded slowly. “Okay. That sounds…good.”
“Good! Now come on. We don’t want to be late. Oh! I almost forgot. I brought you something.” Another gift? Reki reached into the bag on his back—no longer his backpack, but a golf bag—and held an object out to Langa. “It’s a flashlight! So you can see if we have to walk.” He turned the light on, as if Langa didn’t know how to use a flashlight.
“I was just going to use my phone,” Langa said. Reki’s face fell. “No! I mean, thank you. This is much better. Thanks.”
“If it gets too dark, just grab onto my arm, okay?”
Langa couldn’t imagine doing that, but he said, “Okay.”
Reki stepped out of the light, and Langa turned on the flashlight. There, just outside of the circle of light, was a moped, on which Reki now sat. Langa felt suddenly foolish—why had he thought they’d walk? “Climb on,” Reki said. “You can hold onto me. I’m a pretty good driver. I think.” Dazed by the combination of low light and Reki’s earnest invitation, Langa hesitated. He couldn’t see Reki’s expression. “Everything okay? Sorry, did you think we were walking? I should have told you. I thought, since it’s hard for you to see, that this would be better.”
“It’s good,” Langa said, shaking off his concerns and climbing onto the moped behind Reki. Reki handed him a helmet, and Langa fumbled with the clip. Once he got it, he put his hands on Reki’s waist and closed his eyes. It was better to see nothing at all than to see the rush of blurs and colors.
When the moped slowed and Reki said, “We’re here,” Langa blinked his eyes open slowly. It was dim, but he could make out the shapes of people. Wherever they were, it was crowded. His head filled with a buzzing sound until Reki’s voice broke through. “…crowded tonight. I wonder why?”
“Where are we?” Langa managed to ask.
Before Reki could answer, they approached a gate, and an intimidating woman waved them through. Reki breathed a sigh of relief. “Ha, it worked! I wasn’t sure it would work.”
“What worked?”
Reki tapped the pin on his jacket, the one Langa had noticed that afternoon. “Can’t get in without one of these. I don’t have a second one, but I copied it onto a sticker and stuck it to your helmet.” He tapped the helmet Langa still wore. “Guess it’s so busy tonight that she didn’t notice.”
Langa had a lot of questions, but they would have to wait. The crowd swallowed them up, and he briefly lost sight of Reki until, like a wave breaking, the throng of people separated and deposited them inside what appeared to be a huge, well-lit cavern. The sudden brightness gave Langa a headache. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to sneak out in the middle of the night.
But Reki didn’t look overwhelmed. He looked, somehow, even more alive than before, his bright clothing and bright red hair right at home in the colorful crowd. Langa gazed around and noticed that many of the people around held golf bags, like Reki, and some practiced swinging golf clubs.
What was this place?
As if he’d heard Langa’s thoughts, Reki swept his arms out to the side and said, “Welcome to M!”
“M?” Langa repeated.
“The best—only, probably—underground mini-golf course that Okinawa has to offer!”
That only answered maybe two of Langa’s questions. “Why is it called M? Oh—like mini golf?”
“Huh?” Reki replied, distracted by something out of Langa’s sightline. “I dunno. That’s just what it’s called.”
“Mini golf starts with ‘M’,” Langa said.
“It does?” Reki turned back to him, mouth quirked to the side in thought.
“Yes.”
“Wow! I didn’t know that. I guess so, then. You’re so smart!”
“I just know English,” Langa said. “It’s nothing special.”
But Reki was distracted again, saying, “So that’s why it’s so crowded tonight. Joe and Cherry are here.” He punched Langa’s shoulder, probably harder than he meant to, and pointed across the cavern to two men, one with long pink hair, the other muscular with green hair, who appeared to be in a heated argument. “We picked the perfect night! Oh, man, Joe and Cherry are like, M legends. I wonder if they’ll play. You’d be the luckiest guy ever, to see them on your very first time here.”
This was a lot of information, and Langa was still stuck on the existence of an underground mini golf course, but he tried to listen to Reki as he babbled on about the history of M and the intricacies of the course. “…see, the first nine holes are pretty standard, nothing too crazy, but after that, watch out. The second half is insane. And it’s never the same, either. There’s something new every time. People bet about what it will be, and no one usually figures it out until the first match starts. Last time I was here, they put mirrors at Hole 9, which is why I was trying to hit the ball between the windows at school…hey, Langa, are you okay?”
Langa was not okay. It was so much to take in, and he hadn’t seen this many people play golf since— “I’m fine,” he lied. It was the first lie he’d told Reki, and he didn’t feel good about it. But how could he tell Reki that this place he was so excited to share with him was too much?
Reki frowned. “You don’t look okay. Let’s get out of the crowd for a bit,” he said, and led Langa to an alcove not far from where they stood.
Unfortunately, it was already occupied. Langa got a brief peek at the amorous couple inside, just as a furiously blushing Reki propelled him backwards. “All right! Okay! Crap, we have to find somewhere else. You okay to walk a little? We’ll have to go closer to the end of the course. I can show you some of the obstacles.” Langa nodded, and followed Reki as he wove through the crowd, his hand firmly on Langa’s wrist.
Somehow, despite the throngs of people that pressed in on both sides, Langa began to relax. No one knew him here. No one had any expectations of him. Probably, no one would notice him at all. No one except Reki. By the time Reki chose another spot for them to watch, a crop of rock overlooking the course, Langa’s shoulders were loose, and he gazed around in wonder. Reki sat down, legs swinging over the side of the rock. Langa sat a bit further back, a safe distance from the drop.
“Afraid of heights?” Reki asked, craning his head over his shoulder.
Langa shrugged. “A little,” he admitted.
Reki scooted back and sat next to him. “That’s all right. It’s bright enough in here, yeah?”
“Yes. Where did the lights come from?”
“Who knows. Magic of M, I guess. Don’t think too hard about it—you’ll hurt your head if you try to figure this place out.”
“Is this why you fell asleep in class? Were you here last night?”
“Yep. Hey, look, I think a challenge is starting.” Reki pointed back towards the beginning of the course, where two figures stood facing off, clubs at the ready.
“Do you know them?” Langa asked.
Reki squinted and shook his head. “Nah. I don’t know everybody. I only know the big names, mostly.”
That surprised Langa. He had assumed that Reki, outgoing Reki, who had breathlessly pointed out details of the course on their way up to the overlook, knew everything and everyone there was to know about M. “Aren’t you popular here, though?”
Reki gave a short, brief laugh that was harsh compared to his earlier laughter. “Me? Popular here? No way, dude. No one even knows my name. But thanks for thinking that.”
Puzzled, Langa returned his attention to the starting line just as a loud sound indicated the beginning of the game. He watched both players hit their golf balls.
“Over the Rut,” Reki murmured beside him. Langa didn’t know what that meant.
“I don’t know why I was expecting them to run,” Langa said. “It seems like they should, don’t you think?” He knew it was a dumb question. He knew nobody ran in golf, but the stakes seemed oddly high for such a slow-paced game.
“Actually, some people do! I’ve seen people get a running start. It, uh, doesn’t usually work.”
As the game progressed, Reki described each of the obstacles to Langa in great detail, especially the ones he couldn’t see from their vantage. Langa found himself nudging closer and closer to the ledge to get a better look. Something about Reki’s energy, and the crowd’s energy, and the sheer weirdness of it all was intoxicating.
So when, suddenly, a golf ball shot through the air, directly at them, Langa didn’t hesitate. He caught the ball—it hurt—and stared at it for a moment, then said to Reki, “Does this mean the game is over?”
Reki, dumbfounded, said, “Uh, yeah, probably?”
Langa did not want the game to be over. His eye caught Reki’s bag, laying on the rock. He bent down, took out a club, set the ball down, and turned his body to the right, away from Reki. The colors and chaos of M faded away, and Langa’s breath stayed steady as his vision flickered green. He was no longer underground, surrounded by strangers and stone. He was outside, a light breeze in his hair, on an expanse of grass under a grey sky.
Langa vaguely registered Reki saying his name. “Langa? Dude, what are you doing?” He tightened his grip on the club—left hand on top, right on the bottom—swung back, and brought the club down to strike the ball. The club stayed suspended in its forward swing as the ball shot off, sailing over hundreds of faces, now tipped back to watch, then began to descend at alarming speed, just over Hole 18.
Langa didn’t see where it landed. But after an extended silence, the crowd erupted in chaos, and Langa snapped back to reality. He lowered the club, blinked a few times, and looked at Reki, who stared at him, wide-eyed and completely speechless. “Did I get it?” he asked.
“You…you did. You did. How did you do that?”
The crowd had spotted the boys on the ledge, and their roar had grown so that Langa could hardly hear Reki. A few people scrambled up to get a better look. “I’ll tell you later,” Langa said, passing the club back to Reki, who stared at it as if it might come alive. “Can you take me home?”
“Oh, yeah, sure! Sure thing. You don’t want to talk to anyone?”
“Not right now.”
“Okay, we have to be quick then. People are going to want to challenge you now. Come on, I know another exit.”
“What about the moped?”
“Shoot, okay, we’ll have to circle around and grab it.”
Reki showed Langa a spot where the ledge descended in a spiral and told him to watch his step. They crept down and emerged near the edge of the course. “Can I see it?” Langa asked.
“See what? Oh, the ball? All right.” Reki looked both ways, then stepped onto the course. “You aren’t really supposed to be on it if you’re not playing, so be fast.” They moved quickly over the course until they approached Hole 18. Gingerly, Langa stepped up to the hole and sure enough, there was the ball. Even he wasn’t sure how he’d done it. It had been so long since…
“We can go now,” Langa said.
Reki led them to an exit, and as they emerged into the cool night air, Langa’s vision plunged him into darkness. He remembered the flashlight and fumbled to switch it on. It bathed them in a small ring of light, and Langa’s eyes struggled to readjust. He couldn’t see anything except Reki, but he didn’t mind. He stayed close to Reki, both of them quiet as they made their way back around to the entrance of M, where Reki found the moped, and they escaped before any fans could catch Langa.
The wind whipped Langa’s hair around under his helmet. He turned the flashlight off, and focused on the sound of the moped and, quieter, Reki’s breathing. All the feelings that had swirled around inside him throughout the night began to separate and make sense again. As they rode through the night, he named them.
Awe. Anxiety. Excitement. Grief. Pride. Confusion. Joy.
Langa wasn’t sure what to do with so many emotions. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt anything besides blankness, enveloped in a grey cloud that reminded him of the Canadian skyline on a rainy day. The emotions spun together again and became indistinct, like the smudges of color he saw at night, and his stomach lurched. Not feeling anything was safe, predictable. Feelings were unpredictable, but they were also—exhilarating. He felt like oddly light, like the balloons at his tenth birthday party, before they slipped from their ties and floated away into the sky, never to be seen again. He worried that if he couldn’t control the feelings, he would drift away too. But underneath his hands, Reki was steady and warm, and Langa held on tighter, grateful to have found a tether, at long last.