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in your warmth i forget (how cold it could be)
Langa’s soulmate has got to be one of the most forgetful people on the planet.
It starts when he’s five years old. At that age, if you happen to be one of the lucky people in the world to actually receive a soulmate, anything that soulmate loses turns up in your possession instead. So as Langa is puffing out his cheeks to blow out the candles on his cake, there’s suddenly a small plush toy in his lap that definitely wasn’t there a minute ago.
His family goes a little crazy.
Not everyone is lucky enough to get a soulmate- there’s never been a study that’s actually been able to find out why some people receive soulmates and why some don’t, but those that are lucky enough tend to meet their soulmate within the next 15 years.
Langa knows this because he hears from his grandma and aunt about how lucky his mom was that she met her soulmate when she was 19, because she only had one more year left and she didn’t want to be the first person in the world to not meet their soulmate within time. Langa’s dad always laughs and presses a kiss to his mom’s hair, saying that he would wait for her forever if he had to.
It’s never big items that your soulmate loses, it’s just small simple items, or items they use most often. Even the universe isn’t cruel (or nice) enough to suddenly give people cars out of nowhere.
However.
Langa has only been receiving items from his soulmate for three days, and the items are already taking up a small corner in his room. There are at least four stuffed animals, three shirts, a toothbrush, a single bright yellow shoe, and as of today, there’s a small skateboard teetering dangerously on top of the pile.
The skateboard peaks Langa’s interest if just for a moment, but the interest is instantly gone when his dad pushes open the door to his room with a grin on his face, and Langa grins back as he bounds off the bed to follow.
Snowboarding with his dad is better than skateboarding anyway.
-
At four and a half years old, Reki is convinced that soulmates are stupid and he’s never going to want to have one.
Even if he doesn’t know what they are.
He hears his mom cry sometimes, usually on the phone late at night when he’s supposed to be asleep, about how she wishes his dad was her soulmate and that maybe if he was, things would be different.
There’s other words in there that he doesn’t understand yet, but he always manages to pretend to be just waking up when his mom starts to cry a little less, rubbing at his eyes and stumbling into the room so he can grip her legs tightly. He makes sure to tell her he loves her when she always picks him up, smacking a big kiss to her cheek before he’ll snuggle into her shoulder, chewing on one of his fingers as the other hand tightly grips her shirt.
He doesn’t understand, but his mom stops crying whenever he does it, so that’s all that matters.
When Reki turns five years old, there’s a small white plush that suddenly shows up on his dresser, and he doesn’t know what it’s supposed to be. With a huff, he takes his hand to swat it off onto the floor, and then he feels bad soon after because it was soft and now it’s probably dirty.
He goes to pick it up with a pout, and he stomps out to the living room, holding it up and yelling loudly for his mother.
“Mama! What’s this?” He climbs up into her lap, her arms spreading for him on instinct, and he settles on her legs with a huff, holding the plush out from his chest. “It’s weird.”
Masae hums as she pushes her fingers through Reki’s wild hair, her other arm wrapped tightly around his waist, so he won’t fall from his perch on her lap. “Good morning to you too. I don’t know, sweetheart. Where did you find it?” She looks at the plush a little closer, then laughs quietly as she rests her hand on the back of Reki’s head. “I think it’s a Yeti. Did your dad buy it for you for your birthday?”
Reki shakes his head with another huff, glaring at the yeti plush as if he’s done him a serious wrong. “No! It just showed up.” He tosses it onto the couch, crossing his arms over his chest as he slumps against his mom’s chest, repeating himself. “It’s weird.”
His mom’s fingers still where they were scratching at his scalp, and her voice goes soft as she bends her head so she can see his face; Reki feels bad when he sees her eyes are wet, and he brings a hand up to pat at her cheek. “That means it belonged to your soulmate, and they must have lost it.” She presses a kiss to the side of his head, squeezing him gently with the arm still around his waist. “You’re lucky, sweetheart. Very few people actually get a soulmate.”
Reki’s face scrunches up, and he brings up a finger so he can chew on it; he looks up at his mom, amber eyes wide as he speaks. “Soulmate?”
Masae nods, leaning back on the couch and wrapping both her arms around Reki, squeezing him tightly. “Right. A soulmate is….they’re someone that the universe has decided is perfect for you. They’ll love you, no matter what, and you’re going to meet them before you turn 20.” She kisses his wild hair again, humming softly once more. “Anytime they lose something, you’ll wind up with it, as long as it’s small. So, all those toys you’ve lost? And those shirts? Your soulmate has them now.”
Reki squeals as she tickles him, squirming in her lap and laughing loudly. “Mama! Stop!” He tries to escape her lap, but she just holds him tighter, her laugh quieter than his but just as bright.
“Maybe you’ll meet your soulmate once you start school, wouldn’t that be nice?” Reki looks up at her as she speaks, settling back into her chest and sticking one of his fingers back into his mouth to chew on it. “Whoever they are, they’ll love you no matter what.”
The redhead makes a noise as his eyes fall closed, and he wonders for a moment why his mom wishes so bad that his dad was her soulmate.
He falls back asleep before he can think more about it.
-
Langa is ten years old when he loses the first really important item to him. He’s torn up his entire room looking for it, and his chest is tight with anxiety. He’s not sure what exactly he’s more afraid of- his dad being upset at him that he’s lost his competition pass, or his mom when she realises how much of a mess his room is when she had just helped him clean it earlier that week.
His closet has clothes laying all over the floor in tangled heaps, his dresser drawers have all been pulled out, and his sheets have been shoved half under his bed where he had ripped them off.
Collapsing onto the floor, he burrows his hands in his blue hair and tugs at it as he racks his brain to try and figure out where the pass could’ve gone. He kicks his foot out angrily a few moments later, catching the corner of his nightstand and knocking the water bottle situated on it over.
“Langa? You okay in there?”
Langa scrambles to his feet at the sound of his dad’s voice outside his door, haphazardly trying to put the sheets back on the bed and then groaning when the door pushes open; he flings himself face-down onto his bed, his arms splayed above his head and his feet hanging just above the floor.
“Did you get into a fight with a moose in here or something, son?” Oliver laughs as he takes in the disaster of a room, moving to push a dresser drawer in with his foot as he makes a show of looking at the window when Langa rolls onto his back. “I don’t see evidence of a moose breaking in.”
The younger boy huffs loudly as he kicks at the side of his bed with a foot, and he fights back a smile as Oliver throws himself onto the bed beside him, mimicking his position; Oliver’s hands press to the wall, and his feet reach the floor, but he still looks the same as Langa.
“You know, your mother is going to be very upset if she sees this room like this.” Langa rolls his head to look at his father when he speaks, a pout sliding onto his face as he continues. “What’s going on, man?”
Langa stays silent for a while, just staring at his father before he groans, rolling over and smushing his face into Oliver’s side. “I can’t find my pass for the competition Friday.” He curls closer to Oliver, seeking the warmth that always seems to follow him, even in the coldest days of winter in Canada. “I've looked everywhere.”
Oliver makes a noise, tucking his arm under Langa’s back and pulling him over so Langa is laying on his chest, and one his large hands comes up to ruffle his son’s hair as he grins. “That’s it? No moose fight. No boxing match with a yeti?” He laughs as Langa makes a face at him, and he throws both arms around him as Langa tries to crawl away. “It’s okay, son. I’m pretty sure your soulmate has a hold of it now.”
Langa makes a face at the mention, and his mind flicks to the latest thing his soulmate had lost: it’s a red shirt with a design on the front Langa didn’t recognize, and he shoved it into the back of his closet after trying it on and hating how it looked on him.
Langa is pretty sure his soulmate is a boy at this point, with some of the items that have been accumulating in the corner of his closet, and he doesn’t think much of confiding that thought into his father. “Maybe. I hope he doesn’t do something weird with it.”
He places his elbows on his father’s shoulders, looking down at him with his chin in his hands as he waits for his reaction.
Oliver doesn’t hesitate before he laughs, reaching up and pulling Langa’s hair playfully. “Oh? You think he’s going to try and impersonate you? What if he’s a snowboarder too? What if he’s better than you?” Oliver throws a hand over his heart in mock astonishment, and he laughs loudly when Langa reaches over to grab a pillow he managed to keep on the bed, smacking him in the face with it as he digs bony knees into the older man’s sides. “What? It’s a possibility!”
Langa hits his father with the pillow again before dropping it to the side and letting all of his weight settle heavily on Oliver’s chest; he closes his eyes for a moment when Oliver squeezes him in a big hug, and Langa’s voice is smaller than he would like it to be when he speaks. “You don’t mind that it’s a boy?”
He’s never been into girls, even at his age; half of his classmates still think girls are gross in that boyhood way, and some of them can’t shut up about how pretty they are. The only person he’s ever thought was pretty was an older boy from the high school that came to pick up his younger sister from class one day.
“Of course not. If the universe decides you’re special enough to give you a soulmate, me and your mom would accept them no matter what.” Langa looks up into blue eyes that are the same shade of his, and the anxiety in his chest instantly disappears when Oliver smiles at him gently. “We promise, son.”
Langa blinks a few times before he nods shortly, rubbing a hand across his eyes quickly. “Okay.” He rolls off his father after a moment, sitting up on the bed and settling his hands down between his splayed knees. “Mom’s gonna be really mad.”
His father laughs as he sits up, patting his back as he looks around the room. “How about I help you clean this up and I’ll tell you about the time your mom lost her school ID once while we work.” He winks at Langa, moving his hand from his back to ruffle his hair once more. “She hates that story.”
They both laugh and push themselves off the bed, Oliver’s voice carrying through the room as they work. Snow gathers on the windowsill once the older man determines colder air will make them work better, and Langa breaks away for a few minutes to build a small snowman.
Nanako may hate the story, but she still lingers outside the door where her husband and son are working and listens to every word, hiding her own laugh behind her hand whenever she hears Langa’s laugh.
They end up getting Langa a new pass the next day.
-
Reki is nine when he sees what his soulmate looks like for the first time.
He’s skating outside of his house when he suddenly feels a weight around his neck that wasn’t there before, and he looks down to see a big piece of plastic hanging from a white and red lanyard nestled against his chest.
Stumbling off the board, he kicks it onto the grass outside of his house as he picks up the plastic, squinting at it as he holds it up to his face. He doesn’t understand any of the words printed on it, but his eyes widen a little at the picture printed onto the side.
It’s a boy close to his age, and light blue hair is visible under the grey beanie that’s tucked down onto his head; his skin is stark contrast to Reki’s own, almost translucent whereas his own is a deep sun-kissed brown with a scattering of freckles starting to pop up.
The most interesting thing to Reki is the boy’s eyes- they’re a pale blue and wide in excitement, and Reki tips his own head as he touches a fingertip to the picture. He’s never seen blue eyes on someone before.
His soulmate is a boy.
The thought doesn’t bother him as much as he thought it would, even though he’s not too sure about the thought of having a soulmate, and he grips the plastic tightly in one hand as he kicks the board up into the other, running towards the front door.
“Mom!”
Masae looks up from where she’s feeding Koyomi at the kitchen table, her eyebrows drawn together as she watches her oldest son sprint through the house. “What’s wrong, baby?”
Reki trips over his own feet before he braces himself with a hand on his mom’s knee, skateboard long forgotten in the entry way. “Look!” He holds the plastic up from his chest, his cheeks flushed as he grips it tightly, letting the first thought come out of his mouth. “He’s pretty!”
His mom blinks in surprise a few times before she laughs, gently taking the plastic from around his neck so she can see it better, looking over it as her free hand continues to feed his younger sister. “He is very pretty.” She hums as she looks over the plastic, chewing on her bottom lip as she thinks the same way Reki does, her eyes considering. “This is English writing, baby. And see this?” Reki cranes his head to see what his mom’s thumb is pointing at, his eyes wide. “That’s the flag for Canada. It’s a country across the ocean.”
Reki lets out a loud noise, throwing his hands into the air as he stares at his mom. “Across the ocean?!” He throws himself down into the chair across from his mom with a pout, freckled arms crossing over his chest. “How’s that fair?”
Masae’s eyes go a little sad as she looks at him, and she leans forward to gently tuck the lanyard back over his neck, smoothing his shirt down in the process. “Baby, there’s….a lot of things in life that aren’t fair. But remember, you’re lucky enough to have a soulmate. You’ve still got 11 years to meet him, that’s plenty of time.” She sets the chopsticks in her hand down, cupping both of Reki’s cheeks and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “It’s all gonna work out.”
Reki trusts his mom more than anything in the world, so he nods a few times, bringing a hand up to chew on his index finger as he looks down at the picture once more. “But mom….what if he doesn’t like me? What if I don’t like him?”
His mom gives him one of her calming smiles, and his feet almost instantly stop the tapping they had started up against the floor. “He’ll love you, Reki. It might take a little time, or maybe it’ll be love at first sight, but he’ll love you all the same, baby.”
Reki takes in a big breath then nods, kicking his feet as he gives his mom a smile. “Okay!” He points one hand at Koyomi, the other still gripping the edge of his seat. “Can I help?”
Koyomi bangs her small fists against the table, grinning widely at the attention Reki is giving her. “Help ‘eki!” She makes a grabbing motion at him, kicking her feet the same way the oldest boy his doing in his chair. “Help, help!”
Masae laughs as she motions Reki into her lap, pulling the plate of food closer to them as he climbs into it. “Remember, helping means helping. Not eating all your sister’s food.” She taps him gently on the nose then hands him the chopsticks. “And please don’t stab her in the nose with it this time.”
Reki puffs out his cheeks as he fumbles for a minute before settling his grip, very carefully tucking some of the food into Koyomi’s mouth. “Mom! I got it!”
Whoever the blue haired boy on the lanyard still around Reki’s neck is, Masae has no doubt her warm and gentle boy will take great care of him.
-
Langa is twelve when he sees his soulmate for the first time. He’s just coming home from snowboarding with his dad, and they’re pulling off their bulky winter gear in the living room when he sees a picture placed in front of the photo frame that sits on their entryway table that is most definitely not any of their family members.
It’s a boy close in age to himself, and Langa’s hands tremble just slightly as he reaches out to pick the photo up, his winter coat still tucked tightly around him as he inspects the photo. It doesn’t look like it’s professionally done, and there’s multiple people in the actual photo.
The only reason Langa can tell which of the people is his soulmate is the fact that the bright pink sweatshirt the boy in the middle of the photo is wearing is currently in the third drawer of Langa’s dresser in his room.
The pink of his shirt is an interesting contrast to the bright red of his hair, and Langa can’t help but think of how bright the boy looks in general. His skin is a deep tan, save for a scattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks, and he’s gripping a bright yellow and blue skateboard in the hand not gripping what Langa assumes is his mother’s. He can’t tell what color his eyes are, because they’re closed with the force of the grin on his face.
“Whatcha got there?”
Langa jerks where he’s standing, his fingers gripping the photo in his hand tight enough that it wrinkles some, and he instantly feels bad about it, loosening his fingers. “I think it’s a picture of my soulmate?” He looks up just enough to see Oliver’s face, and he can see his mom stepping out of the kitchen. “I mean, I have the sweatshirt the boy is wearing in my room right now, so…”
Nanako laughs as she walks over, drying her hands on her dress before sliding one arm around her husband’s waist, the other reaching for the photo. “Is that so? Let us take a look.” She leans into Oliver with a hum, holding the photo so they can both see it. “He’s a cute boy. Looks like you got lucky, baby.”
Oliver and Nanako both laugh as Langa’s cheeks flush to a deep crimson, and he gives a quiet whine as he covers his face with his hands. “Please don’t…” He drops his hands after a moment, then leans in a little to see the back of the photo. “There’s something written on it.”
His mom turns the photo over in her hand, reading it to herself before she gives a loud laugh, pressing her hand with the photo to Oliver’s chest as she does so. “What is it with the men in this family and the universe deciding to give them Japanese people as soulmates?” Her eyes are bright as she looks between her husband and son, holding the photo so they can both see it. “It’s a listing of their names, but see how it’s written?”
Langa looks closely at the writing in the back before he wrinkles his nose- he can speak Japanese very basically, thanks to his mom, but he’s pretty much hopeless when it comes to reading it for the time being. He has to bite back a laugh when he notices his father is in the same boat.
Oliver squeezes his wife with a smile, pressing a kiss to the top of her hair as he does so. “Well, at least we're both getting cute Japanese soulmates. The universe has good taste.” He takes the photo from Nanako, holding it back out to Langa with a smile. “I mean, I’m pretty sure Langa finds this boy cute.”
Langa curses the fact he inherited his father’s skin tone as his cheeks once again flush crimson, and he splutters for a moment before he presses the picture tightly to his chest with both of his hands. “Dad….”
His parents laugh as he hurries off to his room, and if they notice the fact the photo has earned a place with the others on his wall the next time they come into his room, they don’t comment on it.
-
Reki is thirteen when he loses not one, but both of his medication bottles in the same day.
His mom is going to be furious. His dad would be too, if he ever took more than ten minutes of his time to pay attention to his son.
The redhead shoves that thought far down with the rest of his thoughts about his father, digging through the bathroom drawers in a vain attempt to find the two bottles.
They had just managed to get Reki the medicine, one to help him focus better and maybe stop fidgeting so much, and the other to help for when his skin feels too tight and the people around him are too much and his chest feels like it’s going to never be big enough to take in a breath again.
He didn’t like the medicines, even though he knew he needed them. His anxiety and his ADHD were starting to impact him more than he thought he would control, and he still remembers the night he sat in his living room in tears and begged his mom for help.
She didn’t judge him, and he knew she wouldn’t, but it was still terrifying. He’s not too ashamed to admit he held her hand the entire time in the doctor’s waiting room and then the entire way home.
He groans when he finishes digging through the last drawer, letting his head fall to the counter with a thud before he sinks to his knees, rubbing at the now tender spot on his forehead.
Sprawling on the bathroom floor, he presses his feet to the cabinet in front of him as his head falls back against the wall, and that sudden tightness in his chest is back when he realises that since he’s lost them, his soulmate is now in possession of them.
I wonder what Langa thinks of me now.
His soulmate isn’t nearly as forgetful as he is, but there are two drawers in Reki’s room dedicated to stuff Langa does manage to lose. It’s mostly clothes, and the lanyard from years ago is hanging on the side of Reki’s desk- it’s taken him all these years, but he’s managed to figure out what the name on the lanyard says, thanks to a helpful teacher from his school that he trusted.
It’s then that he remembers his soulmate lost a giant white hoodie earlier today, and the telling tremor is back in Reki’s hands as his chest tightens even further. Stumbling to his feet, he forces his way into his bedroom, grabbing the hoodie from where it’s crumpled up on his bed and pulling it onto his own body.
It reaches down to his thighs already, and the sleeves cover his hands, but for a reason he can’t explain, he feels the tightness in his chest loosen just enough that he doesn’t feel like he’s suffocating anymore.
The hoodie smells of the outdoors mixed with an underlying trace of mint, and Reki has a brief thought that the hoodie almost smells cold before he shakes his head, knowing it’s impossible.
He crawls into his bed with the hoodie covering his mess of red hair, and he grips the sleeves tightly in both hands as he brings them up to his chest. He knows he needs to tell his mom about the medicine, but for now he lets himself be comforted by the scent of a boy he’s never met, but he already feels a connection to.
Maybe having a soulmate wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.
-
Langa is fourteen, and he doesn’t think he’s left his room in the last five days, other than to go back and forth to the hospital. His mom makes him shower on day three, but he ends up having a breakdown ten minutes in and she has to come help him out because his rapidly growing legs wouldn’t support his weight with no breath coming into his chest.
He wants to stay at the hospital, he doesn’t want to leave his father, but Oliver insists that Langa only comes to visit, not stay. He’s adamant that Langa doesn’t need to see him in this state any longer than he has to.
It’s cold in his house, without his father there. Even in the depths of Canadian winter, his father was a warm spot he could always count on- blue eyes gentle and arms thick enough that he could wrap them totally around his son in a hug and still have room to spare.
The cold is helped just barely by the hoodie Langa has buried himself in, bright red and definitely not his own. When it showed up at the end of his bed in the middle of the night, he debated for a long time before he pulled it on. It was warm, somehow, and smelled of a mix of oil and wood but also a sweet undertone that Langa couldn’t quite place.
Langa’s head rolls slowly to the side when there’s a gentle knock on his bedroom door, and his face doesn’t change when his mother steps through a moment later.
“Hi, honey. I was just….I was just wanting to come see how you were.” Nanako hesitates at the doorway before she steps inside, leaning back against the door so it shuts behind her, hands fluttering for an anxious moment before they settle behind her back.
He knows his mom means well, but just the thought of having to put anything he’s feeling into words right now is overwhelming, and before he knows it, he’s a trembling mess in his bed, gasping for breath and his cheeks become soaked with tears.
Nanako is by his bed in an instant, and she’s crawling up into it when Langa reaches out to her, her own eyes wet as she bundles him up into her shaking arms. “Oh, my baby.” She grips him tightly, settling on her side so that she can draw her son into her chest, one of her hands in his hair as the other rubs circles on his back. “Langa, you’ve got to breathe, baby. You’ve got to.”
Langa’s hands tighten where they’re gripping Nanako’s shirt, his face shoved into her collar as he chokes out sobs, his entire body shaking with the force of them. He does his best to do as she says, but it’s so hard.
He doesn’t want to feel any of this. He doesn’t want to feel helpless, he doesn’t want to feel this overwhelming sadness, he doesn’t want to feel like everything is too much.
“I-I….I just….” He swallows hard when a sob chokes off his words, and his fingers grip his mom’s shirt tighter as he presses even closer. “…I want dad here.”
Nanako presses her hand firmly between her son’s shoulder blades as she presses her face down into his hair to hide her own tears, forcing her body still as she speaks. “I know, baby, I know. But he’s got….he’s got to be there, and you know he…he doesn’t want all your good memories of him to be…overrun by this.”
Langa lets out another loud and broken sob before he manages to take in a gasping breath, and he forces his breathing to match his mother’s as best as he can.
Even with the hoodie on, he’s still cold, and he shivers hard for a few moments as he forces himself to keep breathing slowly.
“How about this? How about you and I go and make some chocolate chip cookies and we’ll sneak them in tomorrow?” Nanako’s hands move to cup Langa’s cheeks, as she presses a gentle kiss to her son’s forehead, her own eyes clenched shut so the tears won’t fall. “H-How does that sound?”
Exhausted already, Langa manages to loosen his grip on his mom’s shirt just enough, so his fingers don’t feel like they’re going to break anymore, and he swallows thickly as he nods. “Okay.”
Later, after his mom has left the room, Langa manages to get up just long enough to take two pictures down off his wall- the first of him and his dad from a national team practice, and the other of the redhead boy across the world.
They both get tucked against his chest that night as he fitfully manages to sleep.
-
Reki’s fifteen and a half and he’s having one of the worst days of his life. He was late for school, his backpack strap broke, and he’s pretty sure he left his homework for his math class sitting in his workshop at home.
He’s got his head down on his desk, staring out the window as his literature teacher lectures about some book they’re supposed to be reading, and he’s trying to fight down the tenseness in his chest that’s threatening to appear even though he remembered his medicine this morning.
He makes it through the morning, and he’s sitting on the roof at lunch when there’s a small, folded paper that shows up near his leg that wasn’t there a few seconds ago. Setting his bento down beside him, he picks up the paper with a hand, the other pushing his headband higher up onto his head and out of his eyes so he can see it better.
The man on the front looks similar to his soulmate, they have the exact same eye colour, but he’s too old to actually be Langa. And, while he's been working on his English, he’s still not able to read anything on the small pages. He chews on a finger not holding the paper before he makes a noise, reaching down to pick up his phone.
He aims his phone at the pages using a translate app, and after a few moments his phone gives him a small ding to let him know it’s done, and that’s when his heart shatters.
It’s a small memorial program for a man named Oliver Hasegawa.
Oh, shit.
Reki doesn’t know why it happens, but he’s suddenly got a hand covering his mouth to stifle a sob, and he’s gripping the program tightly in his other.
He can’t imagine what Langa must be going through. Sure, his own father stepped out a couple weeks ago, pretty soon after his youngest sisters were born, but he was still out there somewhere.
According to the pamphlet in his grip, Langa’s father died just a month ago.
There’s a pain deep in his chest, a want to be there for his soulmate. He doesn’t even know him, not really, but he wishes he could be there for him anyway.
Reki skips his afternoon classes, and his mom doesn’t comment when she checks on him later that day and finds him curled up in a white hoodie that’s getting to be on this side of too small, an old lanyard clutched tightly in his hands.
He had four and a half years left.
It’s late when Reki comes out of his room, having spent most of the afternoon hidden away, and he swallows hard when he sees his mom curled up on the end of the couch, a blanket over her lap as she spins her wedding ring slowly around her finger.
Reki is reminded of when he was a boy, and he’d sneak out in the middle of the night to find his mom crying, and he would do his best to make her stop.
It’s the same drive to make his mom feel better, even when he’s struggling himself, that pushes his feet towards the couch, and his voice breaks softly as he calls for her attention. “H-Hey mom?”
Masae looks up, her fingers stilling in her lap, and she smiles up at her only boy, even as a few tears slip down her cheeks. “Hi, baby. Are you feeling better?”
It’s the tears that break Reki, and he’s choking back a sob as he climbs into his mom’s lap. He’s too big, and his elbows are too sharp, and his hands are rough from building boards, but his mom holds onto him tightly at fifteen and a half just like she did at four and a half.
He grips her shirt tightly as he presses his face into her neck, his body shaking hard as he hiccups. “Mom…why does everything have to be so….difficult?” He hiccups again, and another sob breaks loose as he feels fingers carding through his hair. “D-Did you know Langa’s dad died? H-He lost the memorial papers, and I can’t….there’s n-nothing….” His breath catches hard in his chest before he wails, pushing his face hard into his mom’s neck to try and stifle it so he won’t wake his sister’s up. “He’s so far away….”
Masae can feel her heart breaking, and she desperately pulls Reki closer to her, shushing him and rocking ever so slightly where they’re sitting. “It’s okay, Reki. It’s okay.” She keeps one arm tightly around her boy, the other carding his hair back away from his face. “When you meet him, he’s going to be so happy to have someone like you for his soulmate.”
She manages a smile at Reki when he pulls his head out of her neck, his breath catching ever so often. Placing a kiss to his temple, she continues to speak, still rocking them in place. “You care so much, and you’re always willing to help people, and you love with everything you have. He is going to be so lucky to have my baby as his soulmate.”
Reki brings one hand up to wipe roughly at his face, careful to not get tears on the white sleeves of the hoodie he’s still wearing. “Mom, wh-what if…”
He’s cut off by Masae shushing him softly, shaking her head and pressing another kiss to his temple. “No more of that. He’s going to love you. I promise.”
Swallowing hard once more, Reki nods, his body slumping against his mom as the exhaustion finally catches up to him. “Okay.” He shifts in her lap, his feet almost touching the arm of the couch as he takes in a deep breath, repeating himself quietly. “Okay.”
Masae smiles, her own eyes still wet with tears, and she holds onto her son until he falls asleep.
-
Langa is seventeen when he comes face to face with Reki Kyan for the very first time.
He’s pretty sure his heart stops in his chest.
It’s him.
He feels like he’s going to vibrate out of his skin, and it’s the first time in a long time that he’s felt….anything.
Ever since his dad died, and even with the help of a handful of different medications and doctors and therapists, the first thing to spark any sense of emotion in him is coming face to face with his soulmate.
The red hair is familiar, and somehow the golden colour of his eyes is fitting, even though Langa is just now seeing them.
Chewing hard on his bottom lip in an anxious habit he’s picked up over the last couple of years, he slowly sits down in his seat.
Finally.
-
Reki is sixteen when he comes face to face with his soulmate for the first time.
Holy shit, it’s him.
Standing in front of his homeroom class is an older version of the boy on the lanyard. His powder blue hair is longer, and his eyes don’t have that boyhood shine to them anymore, but it’s still him.
It’s still Langa.
And he’s sitting right next to him.
Reki pushes shaking hands through his hair as he forces himself to take in a deep breath, and he glances over at the other boy, only to find him already looking at him.
Langa’s eyes are trained on him and unwavering, and he’s got his bottom lip pulled between his teeth, and wow does his skin turn a nice shade of pink when the blood rushes to his cheeks.
The two boys stare at each other in silence for a few moments before they both just laugh quietly, Reki pulling his headband down over his eyes and Langa tipping his head so his face is hidden by a curtain of blue hair.
-
Langa is seventeen when he feels his soulmate touch him for the first time. His class has just let out for lunch, and he’s immediately grabbed by Reki, his fingers burning around his cold wrist as he pulls him up to the roof.
They find a secluded spot, away from the other students, and Reki doesn’t let go even as they come to a stop, his fingers circling fully around Langa’s wrist.
“Please tell me you’re actually Langa and the universe isn’t being its usual asshole self and getting my hopes up for no damn reason.” Reki’s shoulders are trembling just enough for Langa to catch it, and he flexes his wrist slightly in the redhead’s grip as he speaks again. “Please.”
Langa takes in a deep breath, and his voice breaks just slightly when he manages to speak. “I-It’s me. We’re….”
He can’t push the words out, and he wants so desperately to turn his hand over and grip Reki’s that it’s a physical ache, but he doesn’t know how anymore.
He hasn’t really touched anyone since his dad died, not even his mom, but Reki makes him want to and he’s only said a handful of words to him.
The redhead in question laughs, his head falling back and the sun catching the freckles on his cheeks so they look like they’re glowing, and Langa finally feels something other than ice cold for the first time in two years. “We’re soulmates, man!” Reki grins at him as he bounces on the balls of his feet, tan fingers moving to grip pale ones tightly as he does so. “Langa, dude, you really needed to lose more stuff as a kid.”
Langa stares at him for a moment before he laughs, his cheeks flushing to a faint pink once more as he very slowly squeezes Reki’s fingers in response. “I think you lost enough stuff for the both of us.”
The noise Reki makes in retaliation has Langa laughing again, blue hair brushing his chin as he tips his head, and Langa feels for the first time in a long time.
-
Reki is almost seventeen when he kisses his soulmate for the first time.
He and Langa are in his workshop, and it’s just starting to get dark outside. They’ve got the door shut but one of the windows open to get some air circulating through, and Reki is bent over the board he’s working on while Langa is sitting on the end of the worktable, long legs crossed under him with his chin in his hands. The shirt Langa is wearing is one Reki lost last year, before they met, but it looks better on Langa than it ever did on him anyway.
“Mom said you can stay tonight, if you want.” Reki glances up at Langa with a grin, and his cheeks flush when the other boy reaches out to push his headband back into place. They’ve known each other for a couple months now, and Langa is getting more confident in himself, and Reki can’t get enough of it. “She overhead you say that your mom picked up an extra shift and she’s afraid that you’re going to starve to death or something.”
Langa stares at him, blue eyes bright in the light of the workshop, and his trembling fingers linger on the fabrics of Reki’s headband before they drop. “Really?”
The redhead stares at him for a few long minutes before he laughs, shaking his head and tapping at Langa’s hand with his own before he stretches.
He doesn’t miss the way Langa’s eyes drop to the sliver of stomach that shows when his shirt rides up and how quickly he looks away. Reki is grateful for how tan he gets in the summer that the flush on his cheeks isn’t as obvious as the one on his soulmate’s.
“Man, you’ve got to stop taking everything so literal. My mom is just like that, shit, she just worries and wants to make sure you’re good.”
He climbs onto the table across from Langa, nudging the board he was working on out of the way so he can sit with his legs sprawled on either side of the other boy’s crossed ones. He rests his hands on the older boy’s knees, squeezing them hard as he tips his head. “You are good, right?”
Langa nods, and Reki can’t stop himself from reaching out to tuck back some of the blue hair that falls into his face as he does so. “I’m good. What about you?”
There’s a shock of cold on Reki’s skin, and he realises it’s because Langa has wrapped his thin fingers around his wrist, keeping Reki’s hand close to his cheek. He knows an opportunity when he sees it, and he very slowly cups Langa’s cheek in his hand; the warmth spreading under his palm is a good contrast to the coolness of pale fingers around his wrist. “I’m great, dude. Promise.”
He watches as Langa leans into his touch, and his heart constricts when the other boy’s eyes fall shut and his shoulders visibly relax. For the few months they’ve actually known each other, seeing Langa relaxed is still new. He’s always strung a little too tight, his shoulders tense or his lip being chewed to death by his teeth, but none of that is happening now. Sitting here with Reki in his workshop as the redhead brushes a thumb soothingly over sharp cheekbones, he looks….content.
I wanna kiss him.
So, Reki does. He takes in a deep breath to steady himself as he brings up his other to cup Langa’s cheek, and he leans in to press a gentle kiss to his mouth.
Langa’s lips are dry, but they’re still soft even with all the anxious chewing he does on them. He slides his fingers very slowly into soft blue hair, cupping the back of his head as he tips his head just slightly for a better angle.
The change is what gets a reaction out of Langa, and as he lets out the softest of noises against Reki’s mouth and begins to kiss him back, Reki shudders. Langa is hesitant in this just like he is in everything else, and neither one of them know what to do really, but it’s still good.
When he pulls back, he doesn’t go far, resting his forehead against Langa’s as he cards fingers through silky hair. “I-I….I've been wanting to do that for so damn long.” He grins as Langa lets out a breathless laugh, and that’s when he feels lanky fingers press tight to his chest over his shirt. “You have no idea. Years, maybe.”
Langa meets him halfway when he leans back in, and this kiss is deeper than the first. As Reki keeps carding fingers through Langa’s hair, the blue haired boy tightens his grip in Reki’s shirt, pulling him closer. Langa is letting out very soft noises every time their mouths meet, and it lights a fire deep in Reki’s chest that spreads through his whole body.
He breaks away just long enough to crawl closer, and he laughs when Langa pulls him into his lap, pressing knees into the taller boy’s hips. He smooths his hands from Langa’s hair down to the back of his neck, and he lets out a soft moan when they kiss again, and cold hands slide ever so slowly under the warm fabric of his shirt.
The way Langa sighs his name when he pushes the back on his shirt up is going to be etched into his memory forever.
-
Langa is seventeen years old when his soulmate shatters his heart into a million pieces. It’s raining, and Reki is screaming and crying, and all Langa can think is not again.
For the second time in his life, he’s lost one of the most important people in the world to him.
But this time it’s his fault.
Langa stays there, in the rain, for a long time. Long enough that he’s soaked to the bone, and he’s shivering hard enough that he can’t even hold his phone properly.
Somehow, he manages to make his way back home, and he barely gets inside before he’s crumpling to his knees in the entryway, his hands gripping tightly at the front of his shirt as he struggles to breathe.
That’s how his mom finds him, and her hands tremble the same way his do as she reaches out, and for the first time in years, Langa crawls into her arms with a sob. He doesn’t know if he’s shaking from the cold, from the inability to breathe, or from the overwhelming rush of emotions, but he grips tightly to Nanako.
“Langa, baby, what happened?” She pulls him close despite the fact he’s soaking her pyjamas, and she uses one hand to push his hair back off his face as the other holds him tightly. He’s too big for her lap at seventeen, bony elbows and knees and limbs that he grew into way too quickly, but he’s still her only baby so she keeps him close.
Langa can’t answer, and his whole body is racked with sobs as he grips tightly to her shirt. He forgot what it was like to be held like this by his mom, but the smell of her shampoo and the way she pushes his hair back is still familiar.
Nanako goes quiet, realising that Langa isn’t going to be able to answer her for a while, if he ever decides to. Instead, she decides to settle in so she can hold him better, humming very softly under her breath and rubbing slow circles into her son’s back.
They stay there for a long time, long enough that Langa eventually figures out how to breathe again, and Nanako gently coaxes him to his feet so that he can peel himself out of the wet clothes and into his own dry pyjamas.
She hasn’t done so in a few weeks, but she spends all night sitting outside Langa’s door just as she had in the weeks after Oliver died, afraid for her son but not willing to worry him with it.
Langa tells her what happened in pieces the following morning, and she feels the same ache in her chest for Oliver that she can see all over her son’s face for his own soulmate.
-
Reki is seventeen when things finally click into place.
He and Langa had made up a few days prior, and the two of them are currently sitting in Langa’s room quietly. Reki has taken up his usual spot with his back against the wall and his legs spread out in front of him.
Langa, however, is not in his usual spot of being tucked against Reki’s side. Instead, he’s taken up a place near the head of the bed, pillows tucked behind his back and his knees drawn up slightly to his chest.
Things between them are still shaky. The conversation they had after the S race a couple of nights ago was hard, and they both cried more through it than they would ever admit. But they were willing to try again, and they both agreed those few weeks they spent apart was hell on them both.
Reki takes a moment to glance around the room, and his eyes settle on the dresser across the way, and his heart clenches at the medicine bottle tucked against a stuffed animal on top of it. He looks a little closer, and he huffs out a small laugh when he recognises the animal. Reaching out, he gently presses a hand to the side of Langa’s legs then points to the stuffed animal in question.
“You ever plan on giving that back?”
Langa blinks at him then follows his finger, and he chews on his bottom lip for a long moment before he turns back. His expression is serious, but Reki can see the faintest glint of playfulness in bright blue. “No. You lost him, and he has a new job now.”
Reki laughs loudly, his head falling back against the wall as he drops his hand back down to Langa’s knee. “Is that so? Well, damn.”
He drags his gaze back to Langa, and it takes just a few seconds before Langa is laughing softly himself, tipping his head forward to hide his face with his hair like always. There’s a warmth that spreads into Reki’s chest at the sound, and he squeezes the older boy’s knee once more.
Langa looks up at him after a moment, trembling fingers tucking some of his hair behind his ear and his cheeks flushed just a slight pink. His eyes drop to Reki’s mouth, and Reki can feel his own cheeks warm when Langa subconsciously brushes his tongue along his own bottom lip before he looks away shyly.
“Can I….can I kiss you?”
Reki blinks in surprise, and he’s quiet for a long time as he tries to process. Almost too long, because he nods quickly when Langa starts to look nervous, shifting around so he’s facing him as his fingers press red prints into pale skin on his knees. “Yeah, man, of course. When….whenever you want.” He swallows hard, hesitating for a moment before bringing his free hand up to cup Langa’s chin when the blue haired boy slowly lowers his knees.
His eyes drift closed when Langa presses a gentle kiss to his mouth, and even though Reki wants, he keeps the kiss light, and it takes everything he has to not chase Langa’s mouth when he pulls away.
“I’ve…missed kissing you. I’ve missed everything about you, but you, ah….you knew that.” Langa looks away for a moment, and Reki’s breath catches deep in his chest when cool, trembling hands reach for him. He goes easily, climbing into Langa’s lap so he can hold him close, and Reki grips the other’s shoulders tightly as Langa settles his hands low on his hips. “Being away from you….it was awful. I felt so…empty.”
Reki feels his heart constrict tightly because he can feel the way Langa’s breathing catches, and he presses a feather light kiss to the others cheek, rubbing his thumbs gently over his shoulders. “I hated it too. I just had to keep thinking of something my mom told me when I was a kid.”
He presses a kiss to the hollow under Langa’s ear, and he shivers just slightly when he feels the other’s hands tuck under his shirt (that is definitely one Langa’s lost over the last few weeks) and spread over his hips and lower back.
“She told me that soulmates, they….” He trails off, clenching his eyes tightly for a moment before he raises up to lightly knock his forehead against Langa’s, keeping amber eyes locked on blue as he continues quietly. “…they love each other no matter what. I just had to…hope that she was right.”
Langa’s bottom lip is quivering just slightly, and Reki can see when his eyes become slightly glassy with unshed tears. He tightens his fingers on Langa’s shoulders, keeping his eyes on the other’s as they breathe together quietly.
“I-I…I think I’ve loved you for a long time.” Langa swallows hard, and Reki feels the words settle deep into his own bones, and he brings hands up to press into Langa’s cheeks as the older boy continues. “I remember…telling my dad about you. He was so….he was so happy.”
Reki, for once in his life, is speechless. He doesn’t know what to say in response, so he just leans in and presses a firm kiss to Langa’s mouth, and he slides his fingers into his soulmate’s blue hair when the other lets out a soft moan and tries to pull him even closer.
When Langa rolls them over to cover Reki’s body with his slightly bigger one, Reki sighs quietly, and his thumbs brush Langa’s cheeks when they part for breath.
“I love you too. So damn much.”
Langa hesitates then settles over the other boy with a hand braced by his head, and Reki ever so slowly shifts his legs to wrap them around Langa to draw him closer, so they’re pressed flushed together. With his free hand, Langa pulls the headband from Reki’s head, the smallest of smiles on his face as he wraps it around his own hand.
“I guess the universe is right…” He leans down to press a kiss to the underside of Reki’s jaw, and it causes a soft moan to escape the redhead, tipping his head as his fingers grip the hem of the other’s shirt. “….we are perfect together.”
-
Langa is almost twenty-one when he can’t wait any longer, and he asks his soulmate to be with him forever and officially.
Reki is twenty when he says yes.