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Langa has never been the best at making conversations, hesitating and struggling to find his words, and usually ends up forgetting what he wanted to say or getting so flustered he gives up. So when he was very young, Langa came up with a technique to force the conversation to start: tug on the person’s sleeve, and wait until they ask him a question before speaking, as he found replying far less difficult. Of course, Langa isn’t still so obvious about it, but traces of that habit can still be found today, albeit so subtle only Nanako tends to notice.
Such as right now, when her son hovers at the other end of the room whilst Nanako cooks, glancing at her every so often and occasionally opening his mouth like about to speak, but he never says a word. Langa shifts his weight from one foot to the other, a nervous frown etched upon his face, and he holds a miniature skateboard in his hand, spinning the wheels with his thumb. Sure, it’s very subtle compared to when he was five, but Langa’s incredibly shy, jittery attention-seeking behaviour is a very familiar sight in their home.
She doesn’t want to embarrass him, but as the minutes tick by, Langa still doesn’t get his words out, and Nanako begins to wonder just what is on his mind. It must be very important for Langa to be struggling this much to spark up a conversation with her—and then it hits her.
Oh no, what if he’s in trouble? Is he in danger? What should I do, Oliver?! Nanako thinks, shooting a desperate glance at her husband’s photo.
“M-Mom…” Langa mumbles, snapping Nanako out of her thoughts.
Almost like they’re playing a schoolyard game, Langa took several steps towards her when she wasn’t looking, and for a moment Nanako foolishly wonders if he teleported. “Yes, sweetie?”
Sometimes, he doesn’t know how to put his thoughts into words. Other times, Langa simply can’t get the words to come out of his mouth. And then there are the times he forgets what he is about to say, leaving him scrabbling to remember. Whatever the cause, initiating conversations about anything he isn’t fascinated in is very difficult for her son, and he has struggled even more since moving to Japan and having to do all of this in his second language. Regardless of the language he speaks, when he finally finds his words and forces them out, Langa always does the same thing: he blurts it out far too quickly, and goes bright red.
And today is no exception. Although…
“I’vegotaboyfriend.”
…Nanako wasn’t expecting him to say that.
Of course, relief washes over her, grateful nothing bad has happened to him. But, whilst Nanako has suspected Langa likes boys for a while now, he has yet to come out to her, and she thought a conversation about his sexuality would come before one about him dating. And that part stuns her too; in all his seventeen years, Langa has never dated anybody. Who is the lucky boy? And what does Langa see in him?
As Langa turns his back to her, blushing hard and fidgeting harder, Nanako realizes she has been silent for too long. She steps into his line of sight and smiles, and says, “A boyfriend, huh?”
“Y-Yeah,” Langa says, nodding. He stares at his feet, thumb running back and forth over the wheels on the tiny skateboard. “It came out wrong… I was gonna say that bit later. Um… yeah.”
“What’s this boyfriend like?” Nanako asks, putting on an almost gossipy tone and leaning closer.
Langa flinches slightly, flushing even redder. Slowly, he raises his head and stares at her, a bashful smile appearing on his lips. “You… wanna know?”
“Of course I do, honey. As long as you’re comfortable, I’d like to know all about him.”
“He… I’ve talked about him before,” Langa says, his voice slowly becoming less stilted as Langa switches from his ‘small talk is hard’ mode to his ‘if it fascinates me, I can talk about this thing forever’ mode, something he does whenever his new skateboarding hobby comes up in conversation. “He’s the one who introduced me to skateboarding and taught me how to ollie, and we spend so much time practising together and I’ve been to his house and met his family and they’re all really nice, and, and we kinda fell out a while ago and I didn’t know what to do and that’s who I was talking about when you thought I was talking about a girl, but it’s okay now because we made up again, and then the other day something awesome happened and h-he kissed me, so… we’re dating now.” Langa glances at her and laughs awkwardly. “Sorry. I was rambling.”
“You don’t need to apologise, Langa,” Nanako says, holding her arms out wide. “I love hearing you talk.”
“Th-Thanks, Mom,” he mumbles, stepping closer.
Nanako recognizes the answer to her unspoken question and, with permission, wraps her arms around Langa.
“I really like him,” Langa says. “And… because of him, I’ve realized something else. I was gonna say this bit first but might as well say it now. Mom, I’m gay.”
“Thank you for telling me,” Nanako says, rubbing a hand up and down his back. “I’m so proud of you, Langa.”
“Proud? Why?”
“For telling me this. For trusting me with something so important. But there is something I’d like to know.”
Slowly, Langa pulls away from the hug, staring at her. “What is it?”
“Oh, nothing bad, don’t worry,” Nanako adds, not wanting to screw things up already. “It’s just… you told me so much about your boyfriend… except his name.”
Watching Nanako’s smile broaden, Langa blushes again and, though a bashful laugh, mumbles, “Oh yeah. He’s called Reki. Kyan Reki. We sit next to each other in class.”
When Langa actually speaks his boyfriend’s name, it’s as though his eyes light up, his tone filled with such adoration towards this boy—Reki. For a moment, Nanako sees Oliver stood before her, eyes bright and grinning bashfully as he asks her on a date; when she blinks, of course, all she sees is Langa’s adorable smile, and Nanako holds back a sigh. After all, telling Langa what she just thought about—how Langa sometimes looks so much like his father— as sweet as it was, would do nothing but upset them both. And Langa deserves to be happy right now.
“Mom?” Langa says, puzzled.
Smoothing her smile back in place, Nanako says, “Sorry, I was just… Anyway, that’s a lovely name. Can I see a photo of him?”
“O-Oh, yeah, sure,” he says, and he pulls his phone from his pocket. After a moment, Langa holds his phone towards her, a photograph covering the whole screen. “Here. It’s from yesterday.”
Nanako takes his phone, and stares at the picture. It’s a selfie, clearly taken by the other boy, Reki, as his arm is caught in the shot from holding the phone in the air. Reki has shocking red hair and a huge grin on his face, his free arm around Langa’s shoulders, holding him so close they can rest their heads together. Langa is blushing, his smile a little bashful, but he looks so happy and content, and Nanako smiles so hard her cheeks ache.
“You look so happy, sweetheart,” Nanako says. “And Reki looks like such a sweet boy. I’d love to meet him one day.”
“Really?” Langa says, taking his phone back.
“Of course. I would love to meet the person who makes you smile like that.”
Suddenly, Langa darts closer and envelops her in a tight hug. Unused to Langa initiating their hugs but not complaining, Nanako smiles and holds him closer, so glad her boy is happy.