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Earlier that afternoon when Langa left his house, the skies had been blue. The past few days had been odd, unusually so, with Reki’s distance from him slowly growing. Thinking back, it probably hadn’t begun the night before, when he skipped out on ‘S’ for an errand—which Miya explained was probably not just an errand, but something else going on—but even before the hot spring trip. That evening when they’d had the beef on the way to the hot spring had been the first of many times in the past week when Langa had turned around, hoping to catch a glimpse of his friend’s grinning face, only to find himself face to face with empty air. Or, worse, an empty look in Reki’s eyes.
Langa didn’t think it made sense, that Reki was pulling away all of a sudden. The more he thought about it, the more apprehensive he became; Reki was like his safety blanket, the person he could look at and feel grounded in reality, and without him there it just felt wrong. He hated the feeling of looking back and finding nobody there—it reminded him of the empty feeling when he snowboarded without his dad—and without that security, the fun just seemed to leak out of everything.
But Reki was Reki, and as long as Langa had known him, he had been bright and bubbly. Nobody else seemed to think so, but he knew Reki was like the sun, had such a gravitational attraction to those who noticed the light and warmth he brought with his character and laughter, and Langa ached to see it again. It was that same gravitation that caused him to follow the familiar route to the other’s home, because surely if something was wrong then they could both just talk and sort things out.
Reki had always been supportive of Langa, been patient and kind from the beginning, and now Langa had an opportunity to help in return.
Even if he wasn’t sure how to, even just making an effort was better than nothing, right?
Langa was oblivious to a lot of social cues, but even he could tell when his best friend was upset, as much as Reki tried to hide it. Langa liked Reki’s smile too much, paid too much attention to it to not notice when it didn’t reach his eyes.
Knocking on the door, he was met by Reki’s mother, who looked confused to see him. “Reki’s out, I thought he was with you,” she explained with a frown, furrowing her eyebrows the same way Reki did when he was concerned.
“Oh,” Langa had said, before he thanked her and left with promises of searching for Reki. The brief interaction left him with an empty feeling inside, the pit of worry that had started as a small crack opening into a chasm. It wasn’t the same, but a part of him was afraid of losing someone else.
Langa wouldn’t lose Reki because of some unknown situation, he couldn’t. Not long ago, Langa had been the one hurting, all alone aside from his mother, but Reki had changed that and Langa was forever grateful for what he’d done by just being there when it mattered.
Maybe he was grasping at straws, perhaps he was misunderstanding—he didn’t really know what had upset Reki anyways, if anything—but Reki had warmed his very soul, filled it with love, and if he was interpreting this right, at this rate the chasm would grow before Langa got to tell him all of the things that had bottled up inside.
Skating on the board Reki had built by hand, designed and adjusted especially for him, he made his way across town to various places that they met up. The skatepark, Joe’s, the trail to ‘S’, some of the places they went to practise. The list seemed to be getting shorter as the sun began to disappear, until eventually all that was left was shades of deep orange and red painting the world, and dark rain clouds that threatened to replace them.
It was such a perfect reflection of his current situation, and god did it ache.
In a last attempt, Langa made his way to the route they’d been going along rather frequently that week, the one with the downhill and jump. Reki claimed he was reckless, but Langa knew the same could be applied to the red haired male too. As he approached, there was the familiar sound of a skateboard against concrete, followed by silence, then clattering, and then a groan.
‘Bail,’ he thought, and then, ‘Reki.” They’d been skating for long enough for him to recognise the sound of the other male bailing, the types of grunts that either meant he was perfectly fine, or had gotten hurt. Frozen in place, he listened as Reki got up, walked back up the hill, and skated down again. This time, he peered over the crest of the hill, watching him skate, lift off from the ramp, get thirty centimeters from the star that Langa had effortlessly reached just that morning, and then bail. This time, he stayed lying on the ground, a drop of rain landing on Langa’s neck moments later.
Reki—his bright, happy Reki—looked defeated. He looked sad, and all of a sudden things seemed to make sense. Langa had been so oblivious to so many things, unaware of how he and the other members of their little group had caused Reki to feel. They had left him behind at the hot springs, and now there was a gap between Reki and Langa too, and maybe that was what caused their connection to begin cracking.
In the back of his mind, the memory of last night, and the tournament challenge from Adam gave rise, but he pushed it away. Langa wanted to skate, but what about Reki? If Reki wasn’t there, it didn’t feel like it would be any fun. If he didn’t have that security, what would hold him back from becoming someone like Adam, driven entirely by skateboarding with no regard for others. It had been exhilarating, sure, and when the world had faded into darkness, and it was just him and Adam, his heart had beat faster. But even through that, a part of him knew that half of the enjoyment was knowing Reki was watching, that Reki would be there when he finished, and that when it was all over there would be someone to remind him of what made sport fun. Snowboarding, Skateboarding; it was only fun to Langa with people he cared about there.
Quietly, as rain began to fall harder, Langa made his way down the ramp, stepping off the board and kneeling beside Reki. His ripped jeans meant that his knees weren’t protected from the harsh, dirty concrete, and his arms were covered with scrapes and the beginnings of a plethora of bruises indicative of the many times he’d bailed. Beside him was a tally, 9 finished crosses and one extra mark, and with that last one added, the number of times Reki had bailed was 20, trying to imitate Langa because he probably felt he wasn’t enough. Langa had always felt good enough with Reki, always felt supported, but he had never tried to ensure the same connection remained the other way around.
“Reki,” he whispered, a twinge of relief in his voice. “Are you, I mean, is everything…”
All the words he wanted to say caught in the back of his throat, and the best Langa found himself able to do was reach out a hand—only to find it slapped away seconds later. Before Reki looked away, Langa noticed his eyes—glistening with tears unshed—and had never been so confused in his life.
“Reki?”
“Oh. It’s just you, Langa.” The red haired male slowly stood, dusting off his scraped palms on his jeans, and then wiping his eyes. “I was just about to leave,” he muttered as Langa stood too, feet frozen in place. What was that supposed to mean? Perhaps Reki had been distant the past few days, but he’d never been so cold, and his voice had never sounded so dull.
“I’ll go with you. It’s raining, and you’re hurt and I-”
“You don’t have to do that, Langa. It’s more important that you get home,” Reki replied quietly, turning to give him one of those smiles that didn’t reach his eyes. “If you got sick before the tournament, I bet Adam would miss you.”
For a fraction of a second, there was a bitterness in his voice, hidden beneath the cheerful facade he was trying to hold up. What was the cause? He knew Reki hated Adam, but surely there had to be something else, some other reason to make him hurt like that without telling anyone. And then came further clarity, the moment where things seemed to shift into perspective. It was sort of like when he skated and everything just fell into place, and his heart was thumping in his chest—only this time, he wasn’t happy.
“But, Reki…” he began—tentative, unsure. I would miss you, if you weren’t there once again. What good is skateboarding without fun? What fun is skateboarding without you? There were so many things he wanted to say, but words had never been Langa’s forte, not like Reki, who could brighten his day with his rambling. “It’s not like that… sure, Adam is an amazing skater, and it was exhilarating to have a beef with him but-”
“Don’t try to explain, I get it—he’s on a whole other level. And if you really want to have a beef with him, go ahead. I don’t want to know.” When Langa frowned, Reki sighed, smile falling. He went quiet, seeming concentrated, but from the look in his eyes his thoughts weren’t anything good. “Don’t look at me like that, with pity or guilt or whatever. You don’t have to feel bad, I’m used to this all by now, Langa, I’ll be fine.”
The rain had begun pouring down even harder, the colour draining from the sky as clouds leeched the last slither of sunlight. It was blatantly obvious he wasn’t just talking about the scrapes and bails.
“I know you’d be fine, you’re strong like that, Reki. You always get up again,” he mumbled. It was one of the things he liked about Reki, how resilient and strong he was. Langa didn’t know how nobody else seemed to notice. “You always help me get up again, too.”
Reki let out a sad laugh, shaking his head and walking out into the rain with his board. His shoulders were slumped, and even if they weren’t standing that far apart, the distance between them seemed too great. “I’m not strong, not anymore. It’s always you having to help me up now, and you know it. We don’t match anymore, Langa.”
This was wrong. Each and every word ached, sending a new pang of worry and guilt through Langa. We don’t match?
“We’re destined for different things; you’ll be better than even Cherry and Joe one day, and you’ll only get there by having beefs with the best.”
No, that wasn’t the only way. Langa wouldn’t get there without Reki, not because he couldn’t, but because he wouldn’t. He loved skating, truly, but he wouldn’t prioritise it over Reki. Reki had always been the one to wrap band-aids around his fingers, to disinfect his scrapes, to make sure Langa didn’t feel faint. It wasn’t that Langa couldn’t do it himself—his mother was a nurse, and made sure he knew how to treat basic injuries—it was just something Reki did, no questions asked. Was it too much for Langa to ask, for Reki to let him do the same?
“Adam is the best at the moment, and I’m not going to hold you back from your future because I’m afraid.”
Hold him back? The only way Reki could ever hold him back is by walking away—by tearing his heart to pieces. If he could at least do something, anything, just to show the red haired male that he would be there, that would be enough. And so, as Reki began walking away, Langa did the only thing he could think of; he ran forward, wrapping his arms around him. The rain was cold, and within seconds had already begun to soak through his clothes, but it was hard to care when his thoughts were consumed with Reki, Reki, Reki.
“Do you really believe all of that, Reki? That you’re not strong, that you’d hold me back, that we don’t match?” Langa felt pathetic, even as he said it all. His voice wasn’t louder than a whisper, tainted with hurt. Why couldn’t he just say everything on his mind?
“You mean that you don’t? Don’t you hear everyone, at school, at ‘S’, what they say? I’m just the annoying loser that you hang out with. Everyone knows you could do so much better than me. I’ve been skating for years, but I’m nowhere near you in skill.” Reki pulled away from him, turning around to face Langa. Their faces were inches apart, and even through the darkness it was impossible not to notice that the wetness on Reki’s face was not just from the rain. “Don’t you understand? I have nothing left to offer you.”
The sight of the tears seemed to drown out any reservations that had prevented Langa from sharing his thoughts, the words beginning to spill out as freely as the water falling down from the heavens. “Since when did other people get to decide what I do with my life? You never needed to offer me anything, Reki. I spend time with you because I want to, I choose to skate with you because you’re the one that makes skating fun. I think you’re amazing, and every day I feel so lucky that I stopped your board that day, because my life is better because of it.
It’s because of you that I got this far, that I even tried in the first place. You built me a board from scratch, and it’s only because of your ideas that I can skate the way I do. It’s seriously cool what you can do with some tools and a piece of wood, cooler than any trick or great skater. I always love when you work on skateboards, because you know so many things and always take the time to explain how everything works to me. I don’t always understand, but that’s one of the times when I appreciate you the most. My mind doesn’t think in the same creative way yours does, and I love seeing all your ideas because I could never come up with half the things you do. You’re the best at that sort of thing, Reki!”
Reki didn’t seem to respond, his expression remaining painfully blank. The only sign he’d heard anything Langa had said was the way his amber eyes gazed up at him, searching for something. Rain filled the silence between them, and Langa had almost accepted that attempting to change Reki’s mind would be futile. “You couldn’t hold me back, not ever. All those other people don’t know what they’re talking about; they don’t see you the way I do. Every day, without fail, your smile makes me feel warm. I feel at home with you, in a way I didn’t think was possible when I’m so far away from what used to be home. Can’t I have the chance to do the same for you? Come home with me, let me be your home, Reki.”
Slowly, Langa opened up his arms, a silent invitation. Hesitantly, amber eyes met blue, and Langa hoped his expression was able to convey at least some of what he felt.
The rain may have been cold and the night dark, but the embrace was warm, and Langa was back home.