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It’s almost Christmas in Okinawa, though Langa never would’ve guessed it. It’s not cold, not to him anyway; there’s no snow, no nothing that reminds him of Christmas in Canada save for the lights and decorations in the city center. It’s a little disappointing when he thinks about it like that. The traditions they had when his dad was still alive, the traditions he left behind when he moved here to go to university. And sure, the lights are nice, but it feels… incomplete.
He wants to feel his face freezing off in the negative degree weather, wants his family to be there, laughing and saying stuff like “Oh, this is nothing compared to that blizzard back in ‘99!”
It’s probably kind of stupid, but he misses it.
Misses the cold. Misses the laughter.
Misses his dad.
They say this time of the year is always the hardest, and Langa can see why. Even more so, when the things that remind him of home are few and far between.
Maybe I shouldn't stay here, he finds himself thinking, each day that brings him closer to Christmas. It was nice at first—to get away to clear his head, to try to forget and move on. Deep down, however, he’s pretty sure Okinawa will never feel like home. Not really.
Then, on his way back from class one evening, he sees it.
Sees him.
Someone who stops him dead in his tracks in the middle of an empty street and makes him rethink everything he’s been thinking since he moved here.
He doesn’t think he’s ever seen anyone so…
Wow, Langa can’t even think of the words to describe him, but he’s the first thing in years that actually manages to make Langa’s heart skip a beat.
He’s radiant, even as he does something as mundane as hanging a sign in a shop window. He’s got a smile on his face and his sleeves rolled up over his shoulders and some weird holiday headband holding back his bright red hair. For a second, he nearly topples off the ladder he’s standing on, and his laugh echoes out onto the street and makes Langa feel like a grinch just for standing there.
He should probably leave, if he knows what's good for him.
Leave before the guy catches him squinting at him through the window because he can't read the damn sign. Leave before he does something stupid, like walk right into the building and attempt to ask this guy on a date. He should just leave, and go home, and spend the holidays grumpy and alone with a box of mac and cheese and a video chat with his mom.
Exhaling heavily, he tightens his grip on his messenger bag.
He should.
He knows he should.
It’s just–
Well, there’s a familiar tune on the air, and everything about this guy is making Langa feel more festive than he has in years, and before he knows it he’s walking up to the building anyway, and pushing open the door, and taking a deep breath, and–
He stops just inside the door, Mariah Carey serenading him as he looks around and realizes he’s… well, he doesn’t know where he is. There isn’t much for sale, and it smells vaguely of… wet dog? Needless to say, that isn’t what he’d been expecting when he took a big whiff after stepping inside.
God, he hopes nobody saw that.
“Uhh… hello?”
Maybe he walked into the wrong building.
He’s about to turn around and leave when a voice calls out, "I’ll be with you in a sec!” and, a few moments later, the guy from the window comes waltzing through a door on the other side of the room.
“What can I help you with today?" He says, dusting his hands off on his apron as makes his way over to Langa, and–
Oh.
Oh, he’s cute. Up close like this where Langa can see all the wispy hairs falling over his headband, and the freckles covering his cheeks and shoulders.
Barely managing to tear his eyes away, Langa reads the name of the shop off the guy’s apron: Okinawa Animal Shelter.
“...I, uh–”
No.
“I’m here to adopt a dog."
NO.
“Sorry, I’m not actually here to adopt a dog.”
God. What is wrong with him.
“Oh, okay.” The redhead’s face lights up anyway. “Well, I’m Reki.” He holds out his hand for Langa to shake.
“Langa– um. Langa Hasegawa.”
“Okay, Langa Hasegawa,” Reki grins, not seeming to care at all that Langa doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing. “Well if you do wanna adopt, you’ll have to fill out an application first. It has questions about you and your home and things like that, just to make sure you’re a good fit and all.” A low growl sounds from behind the counter, and Reki leans over the edge to whisper at something—a dog, Langa reminds himself—on the other side. “No growling, dude. You gotta be good when we have guests, okay?”
Dude?
“Is that his name?” Langa asks, taking the application that Reki hands him despite the fact that he is not here to adopt a dog.
“What– dude? No, dude, his name is Ollie.” Reki laughs. “Ollie, do you wanna come meet Langa?” He opens a gate off to the side and starts whispering again until finally there’s the sound of paws padding on tile and a jingling collar and something large and furry pokes its head out from behind the counter.
“C’mon, Ollie, Langa doesn’t bite.” Reki grins. “Right, Langa?”
Cheeks flushed, Langa shakes his head, and Reki’s smile only widens.
If that was on purpose, it is definitely working.
“Ollieeee,” Reki then turns his attention back to the dog who doesn’t seem nearly as charmed. “Remember, we agreed this year we would meet at least five people.” He holds his hand out to Ollie, and Ollie seems to like that, bumping his nose into Reki’s palm before finally wandering out from behind the counter.
“What kind of dog is he?” Langa asks. “He looks–”
He doesn’t finish that sentence, his not so shocking lack of dog knowledge leaving him with nothing to go on except “golden retriever,” which is definitely the dog from Air Bud and not whatever this dog is.
Thankfully, Reki seems good at filling in the blanks. “I think he’s, like, half Shiba, half German Shepherd,” Reki says. “Based on his markings anyway. But you can kinda see it in his coat and nose, too.”
“Can you?”
Langa is oddly interested. He’s never this interested in what people have to say, yet here he is, listening intently as Reki hoists Ollie into his lap, or drags him really—he’s too big to do much hoisting—and starts holding up his paws and explaining the difference between fur and hair and all the varying levels of tail curliness.
“So anyway, this is Ollie.” Reki finally breathes out after he’s sufficiently explained everything biologically that makes Ollie Ollie, and Langa finally asks the question that’s been nagging at him from the start.
“Ollie, like in snowboarding?”
“Oh, I guess!” Reki says. “I was thinking skateboarding, but I guess the two are probably pretty similar. I bet Ollie could do both, though, he’s such a talented little guy.” He leans over to ruffle the fur on Ollie’s head. “Do you snowboard?”
Ah.
Langa shakes his head. "My dad– well, he used to love it. We’d always go together."
"Oh..." Reki taps his fingers together. "Well, these are just names I picked out, y'know. Ollie would stand on my skateboard whenever I had it out, so I named him Ollie! But you could always change that if–
"No, no–” Langa shakes his head. He can't be sad forever, right? "I like Ollie. And skateboarding seems pretty cool."
Reki smiles impossibly wider. "Careful, I'll tell you everything I know about it if you don't stop me."
Langa doesn’t stop him.
They hardly even know each other, but, for some reason, Langa seems to love listening to Reki talk. His voice stays soft and deep despite how excited he is, and every time he laughs it fills Langa with whatever he feels like he’s been missing for the past year and half.
That might be the weirdest, sappiest, stupidest thing he’s ever thought. But he’s pretty sure it’s the truth.
It also probably means he likes Reki, he realizes, as he sits cross-legged on the floor of the animal shelter he discovered twenty minutes ago, nodding along and asking the occasional question while Reki talks about skateboarding and Ollie sniffs the floor between them.
Reki keeps glancing down, mid-sentence, maybe to make sure Ollie’s not getting into trouble. (He’s not, Langa’s been watching him too.)
Then, something bumps his foot, and Langa looks down to find Ollie curled up with his head on his shoe.
"Aww, he must like you.” Reki says, clearly impressed though Langa doesn’t feel like he’s done anything. “He doesn’t usually like most people."
"O-oh," Langa hesitantly reaches down to rub between Ollie's ears. He feels a little more worthy when Ollie licks him. “It’s okay, I don’t usually like people either.”
Reki snorts, then quickly averts his gaze, smile hidden behind his hand. “Sorry,” he says as his face reddens. “That was just– um. You’re funny, that’s all.”
Langa wonders if Reki thought he meant him.
“I didn’t mean you, you know,” he says before he can stop himself. Just in case. He really doesn’t want Reki to get the wrong idea. “You’re– You seem… fine.”
Jesus christ.
He hopes it’s not obvious he hasn’t flirted with anyone since high school.
If it is, though, Reki doesn’t mention it.
“You seem fine, too.” he says, seeming far from bothered as he smiles and bumps his foot into Langa’s. “So, any closer to making a decision about Ollie? Or another dog, y’know, we could also look at other dogs. I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything.”
Right. Langa keeps scratching at Ollie’s ear. Back to the question he still doesn’t know the answer to.
A few moments of silence pass, then, “...Langa?”
“Hm?”
“Um…” Reki rubs his hands along his thighs a bit nervously. “Well, you just seem a little unsure about all this.”
“What gave you that idea?”
“Definitely not your mental breakdown when you first showed up.”
Langa huffs out a laugh. Somehow he forgot he’d come bursting into the shelter like a total idiot.
“Look,” Reki continues, “I know it’s not like… my place to tell you this. I only mention it 'cause it's really not good for you or the dog if you're not ready to put the effort in, especially with a rescue… And I hope I’m not overstepping. Obviously it's your decision. I just wanna make sure you know what you're getting yourself into. Ollie's great, but he has some things you'll have to work on with him, y'know?"
Langa nods, slowly, then tilts his head to look at Ollie, who's nibbling on his shoelace. He can't help but feel a little bad for thinking he would just adopt a dog so he could talk to the cute guy who worked here. Reki cares so much about them, about making sure they get a good home.
Would he be a good home for Ollie? Honestly, he doesn’t know.
He kinda wants to see if he would.
“...Could I come back?”
“Oh!” Reki looks surprised. “Really? I mean, that would be great if you did, but you don’t have to if– I mean, if you decided not to…”
"I don't.. do well with people either." Langa says quietly, giving Ollie's ear a few scratches. "And my place is…"
He thinks back to his empty apartment. Quiet, dull…
Lonely.
After a few moments of silence, Reki clears his throat. "Maybe he’d be good for you too." he says, nudging Langa's foot with his own. He smiles when Langa looks up.
“Yeah,” Langa says. “Maybe.” It’s something he never really thought about.
"Well, you can come back whenever you want, okay?” Reki says. “Tuesday through Saturday. That's when I'm here." He winks, Ollie woofs, and Langa's heart stutters.
"O-okay," he says, “I’ll, um– see when I have time.”
Turns out, it doesn’t matter if or when Langa has time, because he wakes up the next morning and goes straight there without even thinking. In fact, he ends up going to the shelter whenever the hell he feels like it. He goes every morning, goes every night on his way home from class, stops by on his lunch breaks even and gets in trouble for coming back late.
His professor tells him to get his shit figured out by the end of winter break if he doesn’t want to fail, so he makes himself a promise: to figure out… whatever all this is… by then.
See, he’s… happy.
And it’s been a long time since he was this happy.
Every day he’s got a dog in his lap and Reki talking to him about everything under the sun, and it feels so good that every day he wonders if it’s even real.
He even spends Christmas there—just him and Ollie and Reki—munching on takeout from across the street and doodling Christmas cards from all the dogs to hang up on the wall. Once all the dogs are kenneled up for the night, Reki puts a bucket of ice behind a fan and blows it in Langa’s face with a laugh.
“Does it feel like home?” he says, and Langa can’t remember the last time he laughed so hard.
(It did feel like home, though he’s pretty sure it’s not the cold that did it.)
He tells his mom about Ollie when he calls her later that night, and he tells her about Reki too. He doesn’t tell her about the kiss Reki pressed to his cheek before he left, but he does tell her that he’s happy. Really happy. And she tells him he should find a way to hang onto that if he can. Find a way to keep them both.
And Langa’s pretty sure that’s the answer to all his problems.
The next morning, though, Reki’s waving down Langa on the street before he can even get to the door.
“Langa,” he says, breathless. “Langa, you gotta get in here.” And Langa’s pulse shoots through the roof.
“Is everything okay?”
“Man, I don’t know, um– someone. Someone wants to adopt Ollie.”
“...What?”
“Someone called. They saw Ollie on the website.”
And Reki must be able to see Langa’s face fall, must be able to know what he’s thinking before he even knows it himself, because he adds, “I told them I already had an application… If… If you–”
Langa nods. He’s nodding and nodding while Reki heaves out a sigh of relief and drags him inside to fill out the rest of the paperwork before anyone can take all this away from him. He doesn’t even realize he hasn’t said anything until he’s standing with a leash in one hand and a bag with some food in the other and Reki triple checking that everything’s there before he sends him on his way.
“Are you sure about this?” Reki asks, and when Langa looks down to see Ollie staring up at him with those big hopeful eyes, he takes a deep breath and time slows back to a crawl.
He’s had enough training with Reki over the last few weeks. He can do this; he wants to do this.
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
“Okay, good.” Reki smiles, though, this time, it feels a little empty, and Langa can’t quite put his finger on it. “Well, um– Good luck, I guess. I’m sure you’ll do great with him. I can tell he really loves you, you know? I really think you’re gonna be great for each other.”
Langa’s stomach drops when he realizes.
This– this is his last time coming here, isn’t it?
Ollie is his. He has no reason to keep coming back, except–
“Yeah,” he says. “I’ll take good care of him.”
No.
No, no, no.
He needs to keep them both.
He needs to say something, do something, but he can feel himself turning away because he’s not good at this. He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know what to do, and somewhere in the back of his mind he hears himself say “Bye, Reki.” even though that’s not what he wants to say at all.
What he needs is for his brain to let go of the reins for once. To stop walking him wherever it wants him to go and just let him stay here until he figures this out. He’ll get it, he knows he will, because it’s important. Because he’s in love with Reki.
…Oh.
He stops, starts to turn back, just as a hand latches onto his wrist and pulls.
“Langa– ” Reki says. “Wait, you forgot something.” And Langa feels like he can breathe again when Reki’s hands drag him into a kiss.
“I guess I did,” he mumbles, and Reki smiles against his lips, then presses a crumpled up piece of paper into his hand.
“In case you have any questions.” He steps back, a little bit pink when Langa looks at the paper and sees the phone number scribbled across it. “About Ollie or… anything else.”
It’s a lot more worn than Langa expected.
“How long did you have that with you?” he asks.
“Oh, you know,” Reki scratches at his cheek, and Langa raises an eyebrow. “Like since the first day you came back, okay? Shut up.” He laughs, pulling his headband down over his eyes.
“Guess I’d better text you later then.” Langa says.
And he can hear the smile in Reki’s voice when he replies, “Guess so.” then shoos Langa and Ollie off toward home with the promise of later hanging in the air.
Later that night, Langa gets a particularly good photo of Ollie snuggled up in one of his favorite blankets, head resting over the arm of the sofa, and finally builds up the courage to text the number he’s been carrying around all day.
I think Ollie likes it here.
[image]
He pauses for a moment, then, before he can second-guess himself, sends another.
He might miss you though.
God, he hopes that wasn’t too forward.
Thankfully, he doesn’t have to freak out for too long, because Reki’s reply comes through almost immediately.
Aww, what a good boy!
You’re right tho… he does look like he misses me.
Maybe I can come see him soon? :)
Langa squeezes the phone in his hands, eyes darting between the words on the screen and the dog snoozing soundly in his living room.
If this can be his life here… he's pretty sure he'll never want to leave.