Chapter Text
Tap.. Tap.. Tap..
The pen’s end clinked against the wooden desk for the third time; then the fourth, then the fifth, and over again endlessly. Langa’s poor, innocent desk had somehow become the outlet for his building frustrations over the last few weeks. This routine of ‘calmly’ stabbing his pen against his work table had only seemed to increase ever since it first began; (which would be earnestly attested to by the unfortunate souls who happened to be seated around the exasperated male).
Keeping his gaze trained on a specific and suddenly extraordinarily intriguing pencil smudge on the face of the table, Langa tried his very hardest to push away the circling thoughts and emotions currently plaguing him. And really, he tried. He really, really , tried. However not even the power of an artistically shaped, gray splodge on his desk could shake him from the issue at hand. But like honestly , could you even blame him? This was the second time this week! Let alone all the earlier instances from the prior weeks in the month. On top of that, the whole situation seemed to arise from completely nowhere, sealing his faith to something akin to one’s last days on earth, waiting to be released from his eternal suffering. Or at least, that’s what it felt like.
With a groan, the sound of skin on wood echoed through the mostly emptied classroom as Langa let his delicate cheek meet the chill of the table. He continued bouncing the pen against the surface, however, after another five taps, the sound felt more like it was mocking him than aiding in soothing his woes. He eyed the pen closely, observing the worn skateboarding stickers that were beginning to peel from its body with annoyance, obvious signs of the previous owner of the item.
Reki.
Kyan Reki.
The thought of the redhead filled Langa’s mouth with a sour taste, knitting his eyebrows together while he somehow began to grow a small sense of resentment for the judgemental pen. He huffed before sliding the item to the direct corner of his table, far from the tapping it once had to endure. Now, don’t get him wrong, Reki was not the reason for Langa’s personal pity party, not at all. Infact, Langa was quite sure it was almost impossible for him to feel genuine annoyance at his lively best friend. No, the reason for Langa’s frustration was the recent development that abruptly appeared in Reki’s school life.
Langa gently lifted his head up from its place against his desk, peering to his side where his favourite person would
usually
be talking his ear off in that tone of his Langa so dearly adored. Alas, the world was not that merciful on Hasegawa Langa this month, not anymore, because instead of Langa being the main object of Reki’s attention, the redhead was sat up on his desk by the window with the sun highlighting his most prominent,
beautiful
, features while talking to
Her
. Langa wished those eyes were on him, just like before, filling every fibre of his being with that same warmth he’ll never get used to nor ever crave any less. Just the sight of Reki was already soothing some of the unease in his heart. His fiery, red hair, each little animal bandage messily wrapped around his scratched up fingers, those freckles of his that only ever come out in the sun, the bright shine in his eyes. Really, they
were
shining. Glowing, even? Infact, one could say Reki himself glows in the sun, radiating comfort and joy to anyone in his general vicinity.
“No-! You can not be serious right now!”
An assortment of giggles and chuckles followed the feminine voice’s remark, reminding Langa of the current state of his pitiful existence. Back to sulking, he supposed.
You see, the issue all began 3 weeks ago. One construction competition led to another thing which resulted in Reki and his outstanding craftsmanship, (And honestly Langa can’t blame people for recognising as much. It’d be absolutely criminal not to.), wining first prize. This also prompted people to look past Reki’s original reputation of oblivious loudmouth to see the amazing traits bustling underneath. Somehow, this gave some certain fellow schoolmates the idea that it was okay to start snatching Reki’s attention away from Langa to shamelessly flirt with him at any given moment. And, yes, Langa was well aware that Reki had the decision to converse with anyone he pleases but that was their time, dammit! Now he’s been sat like an idiot in multiple lunch periods gazing longingly at his dearest friend as he waits for Reki to be free from the people bold enough to make the moves on him, with Langa drowning out his sorrow with the sound of a clinking pen and the sight of Reki’s bright smile as he beams at the thought of making new ‘friends’.
So yeah, that’s how Langa’s month has been going. Hip, hip, hooray…!
A defeated sigh escapes Langa’s lips as he glances between Reki and the random girl he is currently in animated conversation with, locking his icey gaze on her unsuspecting face, almost as if he’d be able to blow her up with his mind from the sharpness of his glare alone. An unpleasant grumble abruptly sounds throughout the classroom at that moment, the culprit being none other than Langa’s pleading stomach, unsurprisingly. This earns him a glance from Reki’s suitress, however she swiftly goes back to prompting more facts about skating from Reki to keep the redhead occupied.
Ah yes, another humiliating fact to make one of the worst days of his life in the worst month of his life, even worse . Langa had forgone making himself a lunchbox as he was supposed to that morning in hopes that Reki would share some of his mouth-watering, traditional lunch packed by the hands of a Goddess (Reki’s dear mother) with Langa. However, seeing as there was an unfortunate, intruding interruption in their lunch break together, Langa hadn’t even gotten the chance to ask for a taste.
So here Langa was. Bored, lonely, hungry, and spouting a permanent sour pout on his face. Bringing his arms to cushion his head against the desk and shield his face from the world, Langa wondered if eternal damnation had a similar course of action for punishing sinners while he quietly groaned into the darkness of his enclosed getaway.
One more day.
If this goes on for one more day.
.
May God pray for whatever he may do…