Chapter Text
Reki was tired, but not the sort of tired that makes you want to take a short nap, the sort of tired that makes you want to fall into an eternal sleep, the sort of tired that makes you pray that every morning you dont wake up, the sort of tired that pulls you away from all your friends and family, the sort of tired that makes you unable even to do the things you enjoy, the sort of tired that turns your room into a mess, the sort of tired that feels like its slowly sucking the life out of you.
Reki can't remember the last time he went to S, the last time he saw his boyfriend, or any of his friends, honestly. He can’t even remember the last time he picked up his skateboard.
Of course, he felt somewhat guilty for suddenly ghosting them all, but, at the same time, would they even notice? And if they did notice, would they even care? Or would they be glad to finally be rid of him? After all, they don’t gain anything by being friends with him; it really is only a matter of time before they all leave him, or maybe he’ll leave them first, to try to protect himself. He wants to believe that they love and care about him and won’t leave, but the people who left him said the same thing.
Why should he trust it this time?
He truly feels forgotten; he loves his boyfriend so much, but it hurts watching him be better than him at skateboarding. Before Langa came around Skateboarding was Reki’s thing. Reki doesn't want to resent Langa over something as stupid as skateboarding skills, but he really can't help it, especially with nicknames like “The redhead who hangs out with snow” or “That one who's not Langa”; it’s unfair, really. Reki’s been skateboarding for years; Langa hasn't even been skateboarding for half that time, and like, sure, he’s snowboarded since he was 2, but that doesn't count in Reki’s mind because snowboarding isn’t skateboarding, even if they’re similar.
And, of course, he’s the butt of nearly every joke.
Reki can't remember the last time he and his mother had a proper conversation, or him, Cherry and Joe, they’re essentially a second family to him, but he knows they'll leave him eventually. His mother is usually busy with his sisters, and he gets that.
But would one conversation really hurt?
She seems to forget that she even has a son; if she does notice him, it’s mainly to ask him to help with his sisters or to have some small, meaningless conversation with him. Cherry and Joe are like fathers to him, but he still feels the need to brush them off whenever they seem worried for him, whether it be dark circles under his eyes, bloodstains on his clothes or suspiciously placed scratches that “came from skateboarding”, he knows they often don't believe him, but if they aren’t confronting him about anything then why should he worry? Part of him really wants to open up to them, but he's too scared.
What if they think he's just faking it for attention?
What if they tell everyone?
What if they yell at him?
What if they force him to get help he doesn't need?
He trusts them, truly, just not with this.
He wanted someone to care.
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
Reki looked at the rope hanging from his ceiling fan with an expression almost like guilt. His wrists are dripping blood with every move. Two clean slits sit just above his arteries spurting blood out of the gashes. He placed neatly written notes open on his desk, trying to keep blood off of them, his usually messy handwriting close to perfect for once in his lifetime. He slowly pushed his desk chair over to sit underneath the rope.
Nobody could stop him anyways, his mother and sisters were away for the week on some road trip, he was offered to come but he refused, insisting he wanted to stay home to skate, but he knew he wouldn’t, he knew they’d come home to his corpse, hanging from the ceiling, this wasn't a decision made on a whim. He had a plan; he’d had a plan for months. His mother and sisters' trip gave him the perfect opportunity to carry out said plan.
He almost wishes someone would waltz in and stop him, but that would never happen.
With a sickening silence enveloping his room. He climbed on top of the chair, pushed his head through the small opening in the rope and took a shaky “deep” breath as he stepped his first foot off the chair, trembling like a leaf. He took a few seconds just staring at the ground before kicking the chair away. He felt the rope instantly tighten around his neck, and an unbearable pressure in his head, fuzzy little black spots began to plague his vision before everything went black.
Thud
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
He blinks his eyes open groggily, feeling like he'd been hit by a truck.
Oh. I’m alive.
He looks around his room from the floor, instantly feeling the awful stinging pain in his wrists and lower back. He can feel the rope around his neck, but not as tight as it was supposed to be. He weakly pulls the rope off his neck and tosses it across the room before noticing the puddle of half-dry blood he’s lying in. He tries to sit up, but he falls again within seconds. He gives up and lets himself sleep on the floor, deciding he’ll clean up this mess later.
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
When he next awakes, he’s not alone, infact his head is being cradled in someones lap. He blinks awake, a rope snapped through the middle, sitting beside him, confused only to see Langa gently running his fingers through his hair while Cherry and Joe appear to be cleaning up his room. “He’s awake!” Langa exclaims to the two older men, Reki blinks at him half-consciously,” What…what are you guys doing here…?” Reki questions weakly, his voice hoarse from lack of use. Within seconds, Cherry and Joe are crouching in front of him. Cherry glares at him, “We are having a discussion about this later.” his voice is threatening as he looks Reki up and down. Reki shudders under his intense gaze.
He’s scared, terrified even.
He stays silent with a small nod and a gulp. He sees clean, crisp, tightly wrapped bandages around his wrists, clearly the work of Cherry. He notices the teary expression on Langa’s face and tenses up in guilt. He hates this; he didn’t want to worry them. He thought they’d be happier without him…Why aren’t they happy? “I-...I'm sorry…” Reki chokes out as tears begin to run down his cheeks. Joe shushes him and gently wipes his tears away with his thumb “Shhhh…It’s okay, kid… It's okay…. We aren’t mad….we just wish you talked to us…” Reki sits up with the help of Langa before slumping into Joe's shoulder with heart-wrenching sobs, occasionally choking out an apology.
As Reki’s tears begin to slow, he curls in on himself, hugging his knees like a scared child. The sight tugs at Cherry and Joe’s heartstrings as Joe carefully tries to reassure him that everything is okay, “Kid…you...you can always talk to us y’know…we care about you…” Joe says with concern, very evident in his tone. Reki feels like an asshole. He wants to talk to them; he really does, but after so many years of holding everything in, he doesn't even know how. “I’m...I’m fine...okay…? Don’t worry about me…” Reki tries to deflect their concern, even though he knows it's useless at this point. He says this every time. There's no way they’d believe him this time, still, he clings to the tiny sliver of hope that they’ll just believe him and leave him alone. Cherry shoots him an unamused glare “Yeah, ‘fine’ as if we didn't walk in on a failed fucking suicide attempt!” Cherry replies angrily, clearly done with Reki’s lying. Reki tries to avoid eye contact. “I said I’m sorry…I didn't mean to make you mad…” Reki mumbles, averting his gaze to the wooden flooring in his room. Cherry sighs, “Reki, I’m not-.... I'm not mad at you….I’m mad at the situation…I’m mad at the fact you thought you’d be better off not talking to us…I’m mad at the fact you thought we didn’t care….”
Reki trembles as tears drip down his cheeks once more, hitting the hardwood floor with small plops.
Drip…
Drip…
Drip…
“I’m sorry…” his voice shakes as he harshly tries to wipe away his tears with his sleeve “I’m….I-I’m sorry….”
As he breaks down once more, the group consoles him, making sure he knows how much he is loved and needed. Even if he doesn’t believe them, they’ll repeat it until he does. They won’t let him leave, not like this.