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Langa is nineteen when his father dies and Canada doesn’t feel like home anymore. He dropped out of school as soon as his dad got sick and can’t bring himself to consider starting again anytime soon. So he gets his father’s estate in order as much as he can and leaves the rest for his grandparents to handle. He applies for a passport, looking even more pasty and dead eyed in the photo than in his drivers license and applies for a visa.
He flies to Okinawa with a carry-on suitcase and an address copied off a postcard he found tucked away in his dad’s dresser drawer. It was dated only about six months ago, with an innocuous message written on it, as though the sender was simply sending greetings from an ordinary vacation. But Oliver and Langa left Nanako in Okinawa over ten years ago. Langa didn’t even know his mother was still in contact with them—well, with his dad. Not with Langa.
Maybe it’s stupid to try to reconnect with her now, but Langa doesn’t really have a better plan for his life right now.
See, his parents split when Nanako decided to take up the Hasegawa family business, and she didn’t want a husband or son weighing her down as the young female leader of an Okinawan crime syndicate.
✈️
The address leads him to a cramped, rather dingy office above a small, rather greasy restaurant. A lone woman is clacking away at her computer while the rest of the desks are occupied by crates and stacked files of papers. She seems rather surprised to have a visitor, but as soon as Langa mentions his name, swapping the usual ‘Townsend’ for ‘Hasegawa’, she drops her dismissive demeanor. Now she’s on the phone speaking rapid Japanese and pouring him tea and displacing the lone potted plant to clear a space for him to sit near the window.
Within twenty minutes, a woman he recognizes mostly from photos is scaling the stairs. Langa stands as she approaches, taking in the woman who looks so much smaller now, even in her smart white suit. Her long light brown hair is styled in a curly cascade over one shoulder and her delicate features are drawn tight and inscrutable.
Langa bows hesitantly, he knows it’s half-assed but it’s her fault he doesn’t know the correct etiquette. The cool expression on her face melts and she strides across the room, wrapping him in a tight hug. She presses her face into his shoulder—he’s so much taller now—muffling a watery sigh in his jacket.
“Langa.”
“Hey, mom,” he replies in stilted Japanese. He still practiced after they left, took classes and spoke with his dad, but he quickly lost fluency when he swapped Japanese primary school for Canadian middle school.
Nanako immediately welcomes him back into her life. She invites him to stay in her lavish condo and takes him out to her favorite restaurants. She buys him new clothes from fashionable boutiques and presses spending money into his hands whenever she has to leave for ‘business’. Sometimes that means she steps into a chauffeured car and vanishes for a few hours and one time she was gone for over a week. She returned with souvenirs from the mainland—mostly various confections and snacks in flavors that Langa’s never heard of before.
It’s nice to be swept up in a whirlwind of belated motherly love, though Langa’s worried about when it will end. He lost his mother once already and his father for good.
If he wants to stay here, would that be allowed unless he starts working for her? What would that even mean? What could Langa possibly offer her business as he is now? He has no sense for money and negotiation, no skills in violence and intimidation (though he hasn’t seen any from his mother either). She clearly has the money to send him to college, but would officially acknowledging him put him in danger? Would it put her at risk if anyone knew that awkward, foreign, gullible Langa was her son?
Nananko—he does call her Nanako since ‘mom’ and ‘boss’ and ‘Hasegawa-sama’ all sound off—says she just wants him to be happy.
How is he supposed to do that?
☀️
After a few weeks in Okinawa, Langa is starting to feel more settled. Nanako has slowly started introducing him to aspects of her work and the lieutenants who report to her, though Cherry Blossom, Shindo-san, Snake, and Shadow are all uniquely intimidating. Even Joe, with his friendly demeanor and excellent cooking is a little scary with his bulging muscles. Oka-tenchou is affable enough, but there’s a slyness to him that Langa doesn’t quite understand and his pet fox bit him!
When Nanako asks if he'd like to try working with Oka, though, Langa agrees. He works out of a skate shop that’s at least half-functional as more than a front, and manages local deliveries.
There, he meets Reki.
Reki only recently joined the group, initiated after working for the straight side of Oka’s business since high school. He’s loud and likable and mostly forgets he’s supposed to be extra respectful towards the boss’s son.
He even starts teaching Langa to skateboard. For the first time since leaving Canada, the first time since before dad got sick and he quit snowboarding, Langa feels light.
It’s like the Okinawan sun finally breaks through the clouds, touching color to the crumbling concrete ramps and there’s Reki falling down laughing over Langa’s latest failed ollie. But when he’s done laughing and brushing the dust from his own jeans, Reki is pulling up Langa and dusting him off too. He sits him down and cleans his cuts and covers them in colorful bandages.
“Why did you join?” Langa asks, before he realizes that probably isn’t a very good question to ask.
“Huh?”
“Sorry,” Langa recovers, “you don’t have to tell me anything.”
“Well,” Reki muses, “the money is better than anything else for a drop out like me…and it helps me take care of my sisters. Plus your mom is, like, super cool and badass.
“I already worked for Oka,” he continues rather wistfully, “and then I met Lord Cherry and Joe, skating. When I found out they were—you know—I thought ‘wow! So cool,’ right?”
“So you joined a gang because you thought it was cool?”
“Also fun!” Reki grins, adding, “and to take care of my family.”
“Do you think it’s okay for me to stay, then?”
“That’s up to you man…” Reki trails off, watching the brilliant sunset over the ocean. “You could go back to your life in Canada and your mom would still support you. I’d like if you stayed though.”
❄️
When Nanako wishes Langa a happy birthday over breakfast, he initially thinks it’s a joke. Time passed in a haze after his father died and now months spent skating with Reki and exploring the island on his moped pass in a blur. The warm Okinawan air erased all concept of ‘February’ from Langa’s mind.
He is twenty years old today. Maybe he can ask off and skate with Reki all day.
“Do you want to get dinner tonight?” he asks Nanako.
“I was about to ask you!” She smiles brightly, always cheerful in the mornings despite her sometimes late nights. “Can you meet me at Hotel Naha at 8?”
Ah, one of her favorites. Langa likes it too, of course, though he thought that he might be the one to pick since it’s his birthday. He won’t argue though, the restaurant there is excellent and she’ll be paying, after all.
“Sounds good.”
Oka turns him away when he goes to work, but Reki isn’t there. Langa texts him, but he says he’s busy with his other job. Langa isn’t sure what that’s code for and he’s afraid to ask. He ends up moping around the condo and waiting for dinner.
It’s still a lot nicer than how he thought his first birthday without his father would go though. He’s not alone in their old house or back in a lonely dorm room. He calls his grandparents in Canada, forgetting the time difference and promises to call back in the morning—his morning, their afternoon.
He arrives at the hotel, only a little late. Yes, he had all day to prepare, but he napped out of boredom and ended up getting showered and dressed at the last minute. The lobby is oddly vacant for early evening with only a receptionist and no guests mingling or waiting for cars. He heads for the elevator since the restaurant is upstairs. At least it should be easy to find his mom in the usually crowded restaurant.
As he approaches the ornately decorated doorway to the dining room, he doesn’t meet any of the usual wait staff or hosts either. Langa notices it’s rather dark as he peaks around the carved wooden screens,
“Surprise!”
The lights flip on and sparklers illuminate a large cake in the center of the room. Nanako stands, welcoming him in with open arms as Langa freezes open mouthed. The tables are laden with food and the room is packed with guests—some he recognizes and many, many well-suited men and sparkling gown-clad women he’s never met.
A familiar face appears at his side, offering him a glass of champagne. Reki is dressed in a simple black suit, but his hair is slicked back and without his headband in an attempt to look professional.
“Thanks.”
“Happy birthday.” Reki offers a quick grin, but he steps back with a short bow.
Right. This is a ‘family’ event and Reki’s a lowly underling. He’s here to work, not party. Langa gives his mom a hug and lets her usher him to the head table.
Over the many courses of dinner, she whispers to him, discreetly pointing out the many influential guests she invited to celebrate his birthday. Which is cool and all, but Langa really just wanted a dinner with his mom. And maybe Reki if she allowed it.
After the meal is over, people start coming up to introduce themselves, some bowing and some shaking his hands—it seems no one is quite sure how to interact with the recently acknowledged son of the boss who holds no meaningful position of authority.
They seem to think he will be important someday, though. Everyone wants to get in his good graces with expensive gifts and coy offers. Langa quickly tires of the sycophantic schmoozing of strangers, trying to catch the eye of one of the lieutenants he at least knows well enough to chat with.
Cherry and Joe are arguing, looking like they’re about to throw down any minute. Oka disappeared after dinner, stepping out for a smoke and not returning. Langa did thank Ainosuke for his generous gift, but wasn’t really in the mood for more convoluted biblical allegories. Snake isn’t much of a conversationalist and Shadow is much too drunk.
His mother is deep in conversation at another table, so Langa puts on a face of cold disinterest and scrolls through his phone under the table.
A tanned hand marked with a colorful bandaid sets another glass of champagne on the table in front of him.
“Reki!” Langa brightens immediately.
“Hey, you look bored out of your mind.”
“Can you stay and talk?” Langa asks eagerly.
“I’m supposed to be working…”
“No one else is,” Langa chides.
“No one else you know is,” Reki corrects him. He hisses under his breath, more teasing at Langa’s obliviousness than annoyed, “who do you think keeps filling drinks and clearing away plates? Your mom had all of us fill in as waiters tonight so no one gets poisoned or something.”
“Oh,” Langa wilts, defeated.
“I don’t want to get in trouble dude, even if you’re the boss’s son.”
“But it’s my birthday,” Langa pouts.
“Fine,” Reki chuckles, a sly grin taking over his face. “Keep an eye on your phone and I’ll send you something when I get a break.”
“Thanks.” Langa’s face lights up at the promise and Reki squeezes his shoulder before ducking away.
Langa waits, listening to some older guy drone next to him while nodding and sipping champagne at appropriate intervals. His mom hadn’t let him try any alcohol until tonight, even though his dad had let him drink beer before. It seemed like an odd distinction for a mob boss but maybe a normal one for a mom.
His phone buzzes and Langa carefully swipes it open beneath the tablecloth.
A picture. Reki sent a picture from what looks like the hotel bathroom. His tie is loosened and the top few buttons of his shirt are undone. His hair is messed up and he looks so much more like himself as he poses with duck lips and a peace sign in front of the mirror. Smeared dark red letters scrawled in English across the glass read ‘Happy Birthday Langa’.
Reki: happy birthday 💥 🎂
💄 nicked some lipstick just for you
Langa: Thanks
My favorite gift so far
Reki: Whaaaat!
But Lord Cherry gave you a custom AI watch
And Shindo-san gave you a boat!
Langa: when am i gonna use a boat?
Reki: don’t you like the ocean?
Langa: I don’t know, I haven’t really gone to the beach yet
I’d go with you
Reki: I’m blushing, man
You can’t say stuff like that, i’ll get the wrong idea
He sends another selfie. He is blushing, pretty and pink and he’s moved to what looks like one of the toilet stalls. He probably doesn't want to be loitering and texting by the sinks in case his supervisor comes to check on him. Reki poses smiling into his hand like a cute girl pretending to be embarrassed.
Langa: what’s that?
Reki: don’t play dumb, it’s not cute
Langa: i am dumb, what’s the wrong idea?
Reki: i’ll think you like me or something
Langa: i do like you
Reki: not like a friend, like
Like like
Like you wanna date me or something
Langa: Reki
What if i do wanna date you or something
How do i let you know
Reki: you should
Tell me what you like about me
So i know it’s true
Langa: Reki
I love your smile
I like that you squint and show your teeth like you really mean it
Reki: that sounds so creepy dude
Langa: you taught me to skate and you spend time with me and cheer me up when i’m down
You take care of me when i get hurt and you really care about my feelings
You make me want to be a better person
Reki: Langa, stop
This is too much
Langa: i’m not done
I love your laugh, it makes me feel alive again
Your eyes are so bright, it’s like you’re burning up inside
Reki: stop
I like you too
Just stop talking
Langa: i wanna kiss you
I want kiss your face and smoosh your cheeks because they look so squishable
Reki: stop that’s not cute
Don’t pinch my cheeks
Langa: i want to kiss you
And touch your hair
Your hair is so fun to touch and i always try not to do it too much
Reki: your hair is nice too
It’s really pretty
You’re really pretty
Langa, it’s like snow and your eyes are like the ocean
Langa: if i can’t pinch your cheeks can i pinch your butt?
Opps there was lag
Thank you for saying that about my hair
Reki: are you drunk?
You’re not just saying this stuff are you?
Langa: noo
REki
I love you
I wanna kiss you and touch your butt
Reki: you’re drunk
Langa: no ima come find you
Fuck this stupid party
Reki, stay there
I love you
Langa stands abruptly, stowing his phone in his pocket and finally jolting his neighbor out of their long-winded story.
“Um, bathroom.” Langa mumbles apologetically, “Excuse me.”
Maybe he is a little drunk. He wanders through the crowd, looking for the restroom he knows he’s used before when they’ve come here but the dining area is set up differently for the party and everyone is trying to talk to him instead of telling him where the toilets are.
Finally, Langa finds the narrow hallway, obscured by the tables stacked with gifts, and makes it to the men’s room.
There, the mirror scrawled with lipstick welcomes him.
“Reki?”
“Uh, here,” Reki answers. His voice comes from the last stall, so Langa gently pushes the unlatched door open.
He’s standing nervously inside, suit rather disheveled with his shirt cuffs pulled down over his hands.
“Do you really—” he begins.
“Reki.” Langa’s voice cracks with warmth, a sweet smile twisting his lips as he takes the other boy into his arms. He hums happily into Reki’s wild hair, feeling him stiffen then melt in his embrace.
“I really like you.” His warm breath tickles Reki's ear and he shivers.
Langa kisses him, gentle pink lips to bitten chapped ones.
“I like you too,” Reki shyly admits, toying with the collar of Langa’s too casual shirt as they pull away.
He leans in for another kiss, just as Langa’s hands snake down to squeeze his butt roughly.
“I like these slacks,” he whispers in Reki’s ear.
“Tough luck, they’re too tight to skate in,” Reki gripes playfully. “I’m never wearing them again.”
“Oh, so you don’t mind if I take them off then?
😉