Chapter Text
When Reki had moved to Canada, chasing after his dreams of working under one of the big English animation names, he'd expected a lot, even if his mom had told him not to get too ahead of himself before he even got off the plane.
Some examples; snow. Canada was cold, everyone said, and miserable and grey and sad with nothing to do but watch for more snow. Mooses, (meese?) which everyone also said were terrifying beasts that could probably eat him. Reki had ridden a horse before, and apparently they were similar, so he just shook off the instinctual fear and went ahead. Mountains, too. There were some in Okinawa, not that he every bothered trying to climb them, but apparently Canada has a ton, real mountains that scrape clouds and get covered in snow every day and probably have a killcount.
Oh, and English. Lots and lots of English. Every sign, message, brand, all English in big, bold letters or frustratingly small notes under fancy fonts or scrolling across LED screens reading out his flight schedule that he couldn't keep up with. He kind of regrets not paying attention in his languages class, but then he thinks about how much skating time he got in skipping it and shuts down the regrets almost immediately because who would ever pass up a chance to skate more?
Most likely literally nobody but Reki, but he's not gonna think about that right now. He has a ride to catch, who's probably waiting outside impatiently because Reki's been standing there for who knows how long, but when he steps out of here it's all gonna get a lot more real, and Canada probably doesn't look anything like Okinawa since it's across the damn ocean and an entirely different country that's either gonna drag him right into its life or spit him out like a piece of flavorless gum. He kinda hopes he doesn't become a redneck in either process.
. . . that is, none of that will happen if he can't even find his way out of the airport.
So Reki got a little lost in the confusing hallways and wandered out the entirely wrong side of the place and his cab left him. I thought Canadians were supposed to be nice. But it doesn't matter! He's all good. He just has to find a way out of here, which really isn't that hard, right?
Through the power of Google Translate and help from an elderly woman pointing him to the red EXIT signs above their heads, Reki stumbles around and finds himself in the biggest parking lot he's ever seen. Actually, it might be smaller than Tokyo's. He wasn't really paying attention after his mom had dropped him off, too excited to get on a plane for the first time and the prospect of leaving Japan and getting a job and-
Reki manually pulls the killswitch on that line of thought, forcing his feet to step towards the lot where he assumes his new Uber is waiting. Thankfully, this one was texting him back in decent Japanese, so he hopes maybe he can actually figure out just where they are and how to get over there.
Just as his phone pings with the refund notification from his last ride, a silver SUV screeches to a stop in front of him, stopping two meters from flattening him into pathetic red stain on the road. Reki screeches and stumbles back while the passenger window rolls down, sunlight flashing off the falling glass while he meets the eyes of possibly the last person he would ever expect to be driving so recklessly.
"Oh, uh, hello!" The English sounds weird in his mouth, strangely shaky, as he waves through to the woman smiling friendly at him. "My name is Reki. Are you Nanako?"
"It is. It's a pleasure to meet you, Reki! You can put your things in the trunk."
Reki startles at the clear Japanese- it's such a quick switch that he nearly forgets to reply, but the relief that follows trumps it completely. "Oh, that's great! Thank you so much, I thought-" he cuts off before he smacks his head on the rising trunk door, lugging his two suitcases inside and shutting it before settling in the back seat- "I thought I'd have to power through with English. You're a life saver!"
Nanako just smiles back at him, taking off at the same speed she'd slammed the brakes with before, makes Reki's stomach drop to his feet before lurching back up. "It's just as exciting for me! I haven't met someone else who speaks the language for years, other than my husband and our son. What part are you coming from?"
Eager to keep talking before he has to delve back into English, Reki gladly talks the woman's ear off, overjoyed when she tells him she's from Okinawa too. Nanako is happy to listen while he fills her in on everything that's changed, which really isn't a lot, but Reki guesses it's nice just to have someone who knows, knows what it's like to trip into a new world completely clueless without language or familiarity.
It's so nice, in fact, that Reki hardly notices that they've traveled into countryside, which is surprisingly snow-less, despite orange-leaved trees and the chill in the air. Isn't Canada supposed to be, you know, snowy? He has to admit that the scene is pretty, though, a lot flatter than Okinawa and there's lots of animals out in fields, when he glances out the window. He wonders what it'd be like to run through, maybe even skate past if he ever got the time, and excitement sparks up under his ribs at the thought.
The run-down motel Nanako pulls to a halt in front of is much less impressive than its online photos.
The little neighborhood they'd driven into isn't exactly pristine, either, looks more like it's been through more than one heavy storm lately, and the same is reflected in its buildings. The motel, which had been a bit more pretty in the photos, has dirty white walls and flickering signs in English he doesn't recognize. One of the ground floor rooms is closed off with a collapsed wall peering into a sad excuse for a bedroom. A generator near the connected gas station is rattling like a skeleton, and Reki shudders in response.
Nanako gives him a careful look from the front seat, a little concerned. "This is your stop. You're ready?" Her voice isn't unkind, but she's got that unmistakable look that Reki's mom gave him every time he was about to do something decidedly stupid, and something twinges painfully in his chest at the thought.
"Not really, actually," Reki reluctantly admits, voice quieted down a bit more. If he's going to be honest with himself, he's not even ready to think about this. Hot shame curls in its familiar place under his ribs, pressure against his sternum, shot through with terror and a little bit of anger directed at himself. He's not unused to the feeling, but the sudden strength it has now is disorienting. "Uh. Actually. . . do you happen to know any, er, nicer places around? That aren't. . ." He glances at the roped-off room.
Nanako gives him a long, kind look, and Reki kind of feels like he's wrapped up in a nice blanket right out of the dryer meeting her eyes, comforted. She nods lightly, smiling. "Of course I do! In fact, my parents have lodges on their property. I'm sure they'd be happy to host you!"
Reki manages a smile in return, a little less forced than before. "You're sure you're not just trying to get them business? Just kidding. I, uh. If you could take me, that'd be amazing! Cause, you know, this place is kind of a dump-" he flushes when nanako laughs and just buckles back into his seat, tight ball of shame shrinking in his gut, just a little.
When Nanako had said lodges, she had really meant it.
Reki's standing quietly at the door of the cabin Ms. Hasegawa had directed him to, fumbling weakly with the key before pushing the door open. It's definitely nice to feel the warmth inside, seeing as the chill has really sunken into his bones already, gooseflesh raised on his arms and the hair on the back of his neck sticking up. The place is homey, like an old American cartoon, warm-toned walls and wooden furnishings and a soft rug at his feet. There's a kitchenette to his left and a small living area on his right, the hall ahead leading to what he thinks is the bedroom and bathroom. Already better than his first option.
He drops his suitcases by the door and sets to wander around a little, getting a feel for the place. It's small, but not too crowded, he thinks, since he's able to walk around and see everything he needs. The bedroom's nice as well, fresh sheets pulled over a twin sized bed and the big window casting soft light through the curtains. He's got a nice view from here too, looking over one of the nearby farm's fields, and out onto some of the closer mountains. He can see some snow on them, wonders how impossibly tall they must be if it's only chilly down here and blizzarding up there.
A sudden yawn wracks through his lungs, and he drops onto the bed, leaning back with a gentle groan. One bad thing about planes; jet lag. He's been exhausted since he arrived, 'cause it's nearly midnight in Okinawa and only 10AM here, and he's been on his feet hours, and so overloaded with language changes and confusion and fear and-
Well. He's got a bed and a safe place to sleep. He shuts down those thoughts in favor of quieter rest, shifting to curl close into the blankets and hums at the clean scent. The gentle light through the curtains is just warm enough to coax his eyes closed and lull him into a quiet nap.
There's snow on the ground when Reki opens his eyes hours later, glittering like diamonds on the ground outside, smooth as a sheet of paper. He spends a good ten minutes sitting in the bed, wrapped up in a quilt and staring outside. It's silent, absolutely, not a single sound except the distant calls of birds.
Eventually, he lugs himself out of bed and forces himself to make something to eat. There's a jar of granola, a can of beans and some milk in the fridge, and he finds an ancient glass bottle of maple syrup in a drawer that he decides against opening up. Instead, he digs a bowl and spoon out of the cabinets, pours some milk and settles for granola cereal. Not the most delicious, but it's much better than the tiny packet of pretzels he'd had on the plane hours ago.
Reki rinses the bowl and sets it in the sink, eyes catching on the snow falling lightly outside again. It's nowhere close to the videos of blizzards he's seen, but it's peaceful, gentle and quiet. He has to pause and savor it, even if the cold seeping through the glass makes him shudder lightly.
He hasn't had a moment to slow down in days, swept up in the excitement of moving and job opportunities. Still, standing around just doesn't feel right, so he reluctantly starts shuffling around the cabin, moving things around and hunting for more stuff to use. He finds a broom and a duster and figures he should at least make himself useful, even if he's already paying to stay here.
Ah, money. Reki's old nemesis. He never has enough and yet the idea of working endlessly to get it is even more exhausting than actually doing it. Back in Okinawa, when he lived with his family, his part-time at DopeSketch had paid enough to let him help out with food and materials a little, but now he's got no one to help, just himself and all the expenses that come with being an adult. Like taxes, which always seemed a little unfair to him and now even more so now that he has to actually pay them in full.
The cabins aren't expensive, though, and the Hasegawas are nice, so he thinks he can get by here for now while he picks up his life again. All in all, he's got it going good so far, even if he doesn't have a job or a car or permanent housing or something else he's probably forgetting.
Well. It really can't be that bad, can it? Reki stares out the windows one last time- it's not snowing anymore, but it looks cold- and digs out another hoodie to layer over his first one, then goes for a third just in case, and his now-emptied backpack. He pulls his board out of the suitcase and stops in front of the door, taking a long, deep breath. New town, new Reki. He won't screw this up, not this early.
He pushes the front door open, giving a slight bump with his shoulder and wincing at the effort. To his surprise, the little path to the door has already been cleared, and he wonders when that happened, before he glances down the line of cabins and sees a worker shoveling paths, bundled up in a thick coat. Which, honestly, is a good idea, because Reki's cheeks sting in the cold, his nose already reddening. He tugs one of the hoods around the front of his face and digs his face in, regretting his decision not to grab the coat and scarf he'd packed from the suitcase.
Reki shuffles out and hops on his board, takes off at a slow pace while he checks his phone with shaking fingers. Three texts from his mom, one from Koyomi, and an Instagram notification from Oka posting about DopeSketch. Two favorites. He sighs lightly and tries looking up a place for home goods nearby. It leads him to a small store three kilometers away, so he skates over and wanders, looking for basic amenities that the cabin didn't cover and he didn't already bring.
He walks out with his backpack a little heavier and twenty CAD poorer. He'd saved a decent amount before he decided to move, so it's not a massive dent, but still. He should keep an eye on things until he pins down a decent job.
Reki skates slowly around the small town and stops in two more storefronts, one for coffee and groceries, another to admire the array of power tools he couldn't hope to afford just yet. One good thing about living alone is that he only needs to feed himself, and he already doesn't eat too much, so it's easy just picking out the bare necessities and some Tupperware for meal prep, which he probably won't do, but the thought is there.
And then. . . he just rides back to the Hasegawa farm, humming along to songs from home. He gets some weird looks- who the hell is this guy, taking a skateboard through -10° weather? but they don't really deter him. He's too busy trying not to catch frostbite after forgetting his gloves. Even if it's a little weird, going out only to get things and not exploring at all, Reki's kind of a little miserable in this weather, without actual gear on, so he's in a rush to get back to the heated cabin.
Reki hustles back inside and kicks snow off of his tennis shoes, before stripping out of the soaked top hoodie and the damp second one, dropping them next to his shoes. He'll have to ask the Hasegawas about a laundromat nearby or something, but first, he's gotta get his gear together.
Now, Reki isn't known for being the most prepared. He was notorious in his school days for skipping out on forgotten assignments or projects, mostly because he was just bad at them, but he also thought maybe it made him look at least a little cool. But he did his homework for this one and didn't skimp out- he's got a thick coat, snow pants, waterproof boots, gloves, everything Google told him he needed laid out on the sofa, waiting for him to don them and brave the cold, snowy fields again.
That'll come after a decent rest, he decides after glancing at the clock. He's not even remotely tired, but apparently having a sleep schedule normalized to the local day cycle is a good idea. Midnight is a normal sleeping time, right? Reki doesn't try to reason with himself any more, just strips into boxers and a tank to drop into bed and pass out while the snow outside glitters silently under the moon. No dreams, no stirring.
It's one of the calmest nights Reki's had in months, even if it only lasts six hours.
Day Two comes and goes, same with Three and Four. A week in, he's called home nine times, spent seventy-eight dollars, liked three of Oka's posts about DopeSketch and how well they're doing without him, and has not explored at all beyond the Hasegawa farm itself. He hasn't yet ventured into the nearby forest, a little too intimidated to go in just yet, but he has been in town, even managed to get a part-time at the same coffee-grocery store he'd bought from a few days ago. The employee discount was the biggest reason, but they're also nice people. It's nice to talk more, even if he stumbles over English like a kid just learning.
So Reki's got it okay, okay? He's making decent money and he's got a bed and food. What more could he ask for? A twinge of loneliness sometimes prickles in his chest, but that's just normal. It's not any different from how he'd felt back home, holed up in his apartment or the office, taking customer calls and making weak attempts at making friends.
Other than that's, Reki's fine. More than fine, actually. He had finally built up the courage to knock on the massive main house of the Hasegawa farm and ask if there was anything he could do to help, purely out of boredom on a free day, and they let him in when he said he could clean, although Mr. Hasegawa insisted on dropping some of his rent costs in return. A pretty good trade off, in Reki's opinion, so he keeps it up for another three weeks.
Except part-times and cleaning to drop rent only lasts so long, and Reki's stuck in the cabin that doesn't really feel like home yet for hours on end, still unable to sleep at normal times, still put off by the silence that follows the snow that's steadily increasing in volume every week. He wakes up to bird calls and falls asleep to nothing, over and over, until he makes a very fast, likely very stupid idea that's completely born of boredom and impulsive curiosity.
Reki decides, all of a sudden, that he wants to go explore the forest.
So maybe he could have waited until morning to do this. Setting out on foot into a snowscape he's never walked before at 7PM, backpack stocked with leftovers in Tupperware (his mother would be proud for his preparation), portable battery at 100% and bundled up in thick winter gear is definitely not something you do on a normal Tuesday afternoon, or any afternoon, for that matter. But who cares? It's not like anyone will miss him or be waiting for him to come back.
So he follows the first semi-blazed trail he finds and just. . . keeps walking.
Reki's not weak by any means, but he works up a sweat on steep parts, has to pick himself up from more than one slip and fall. The flat parts are a relief, almost calming, if not for the absolute silence that makes his footsteps sound like thunder that echoes off of frosty trees and rocks that stick out of the ground, each fogged breath leaving his nose a low rumble in his ears compared to the lack of life around him.
Seriously, the silence is starting to put him off, mixed with the cold air and smooth snow that amplifies every sound he makes, and he's beginning to feel a little like a massive monster trampling through peaceful trees.
He even stops a few times, just stands in the pure lack of sound and tries to hear literally anything other than his own heart and shallow breaths, to no avail. If he'd had service, he would've looked up whether or not the area had recently been raptured or something.
Reki treks along, stepping carefully through snow and dead leaves and brush, pulls his body over fallen logs and boulders to keep going, deeper and deeper into trees and higher and higher into the mountains, until he pulls to a reluctant stop at the lip of an edge.
He leans carefully over the edge to look into the hidden dent in the land before him, kneeling because his feet hurt like hell and he'd rather get back issues than walk or stand any more. He's kinda dreading the walk back to the farm.
Inside is the most beautiful scene he's never imagined.
It's a lake, or at least a pond, maybe 100 meters across, little island poking out of the perfectly still waters that reflect the rising moon like a freshly-wiped mirror. It's somehow not frozen over, but as he looks close, he spots a thin sheet of frost covering the surface, glimmering softly like something magical, and Reki's head is getting a little foggy like his breath, thinks I need to get down there even as the wind is picking up with a soft breeze, carefully pushes himself over the edge and slides down the gentle slope. The thought of his aching feet is dispelled as he approaches the water, boots sliding a little in the delicate, glittery white sand and stones underneath.
Reki stares silently into the water, at his stunningly clear reflection that mirrors his strangely taken expression. His skin is tingling warm despite the negative temperatures, feels like he's brimming at the surface, pot about to boil over, and he leans closer to the water, drops his bag and kneels by the edge to peer into the shallows, because, he just needs to know. There's something there, something in the water, under his reflection where he can't see but maybe if he just gets a little bit closer-
A second reflection joins Reki's, jolting him out of whatever trance he'd been dragged into, and he yelp and stumbles, barely manages to avoid toppling right into the water but kicks a spray of sand into it, sends ripples across the entire thing that shatter his reflection and make the layer of frost wobble on the surface. Reki blinks silently, watching his reflection wave, before he notices the second again.
He whips around like he's being dragged by a rope, stares open-mouthed at the most beautiful person he's ever seen in his life, maybe the most beautiful person ever, who just appeared behind him, ghostly pale and silent as a mouse. Reki's hand settles on the pocket knife at his hip, but fingers never curl around it, temptation to jump to defend gone just as suddenly as he'd felt it. He just steps back reluctantly and stares, unable to pick up his jaw while this gorgeous person just regards him like a lizard they found under a rock.
"Hello," and Reki almost melts at just their voice, even if the English doesn't register right away, because it's smoother than the glassy surface of the lake, cool and sharp and muted, and he barely stutters out "H- Hi," in Japanese because trying for English might just fry his brain even more than it is already, just hopes he gets the point across.
The other person, blue blue blue Reki's mind chants when he registers their blue hair, pristine and perfect and the same exact hue as their eyes, blinks slowly at Reki, not stepping closer, to his unbidden dismay. They just think a moment, before repeating themselves, gentle quiet "Hello," in perfect accented Japanese and Reki thinks he maybe dies right there on his aching-but-not-anymore feet and he's just watching this happen from the aether beyond.
Somewhere in the dredges of his mind, a worried little voice tells him he shouldn't be out right now, it's dark and he doesn't know this person and he's never been in the area before and he's probably the best victim a serial killer could ask for, but that doesn't really matter, does it? There's no way someone so pretty could ever hurt him, right?
The thought occurs to him, far too late for comfort, to reply, and he stumbles over his own lips before he can get out a semi-coherent sentence, "Who, uh- who are you?" echoing in still silence, and he kinda shudders at the cold air that's cutting through his sleeves, wonders idly how this ethereal person is standing in just a turtleneck and slacks and Converse while he's still shivering while wrapped in three layers.
"A neighbor," they reply, and Reki's kind of coming back from whatever had its hold over him, but his head is still foggy, warm and feels like his brain is being dragged through mud. He takes another second just to blink at them, rationalizes that no sane person would be out in subzero temperatures in just casuals, so he keeps some guards up but most fall down the second they give him a slightly curious look.
"Oh, uh, nice. I'm living nearby, on the, uh, Hasegawa farm. Also, you gotta be frozen right now, huh? Here," he shoulders off his coat and offers it, blinking back when the stranger doesn't reach out, instead stares at the coat before glancing up at Reki, intense blue eyes pinning him in place because wow, they're pretty, before he thinks maybe they're just a little cautious too. It's not like he's probably familiar either. "Don't worry, it's old, and I have another. You don't gotta pay me, you can just have it."
Those seem to be the binding words, and the stranger regards him for another moment before they take the coat, drapes it over their shoulders and suddenly they're a little less intimidating, wrapped up in a ragged jacket with hand-sewn patches and tears he hadn't gotten around to fixing yet. His skin feels a little less like it's on fire now, more like a warm hum just underneath, despite the loss of a layer. They don't thank him, but he gets a nod and figures it's appropriate for the silent night.
Except Reki's not actually very good at keeping quiet, so he shifts a little and settles on the sand next to his dropped backpack, digging his heels into the sand. "So, uh. You're a neighbor? Where do you live? Cause I kinda thought the farm was the only place with people for a few kilometers, other than that little town. Are you from there?" His voice is hushed, feels kind of unnatural to not talk as much as he wants to, but he doesn't really wanna scare off the stranger, even if they might be here to murder him. It's not like he looked into the types of crime common in Canada, so for all he knows they might just love cannibalism here, though he doubts that as soon as he thinks it.
The stranger doesn't sit, but they step a little bit closer, stand near Reki and peer down at him. Reki's a little distracted by the lake, since it's settled again, reflecting the sky above flawlessly. He's silently awed by the stars he can see twinkling on the surface. The stranger studies him, quiet for a minute, before responding.
"No. I live nearby. You wouldn't know anything about it."
The vague words kind of tug Reki's attention to them again, away from the water that had dragged his eyes over, urge to listen stronger than the urge to find his reflection again.
"Oh. Ok. So, uh. . ." For once in his life, Reki is at a loss for words, because what, really, do you say to someone who just appeared silently behind you in a little valley in the middle of a freezing Canadian night? It already feels like he's sinking in quicksand, the way head fog has settled over him like a heavy blanket, making him feel sluggish and weighted down. He settles for a simple question. "Why are you out so late? I'm pretty sure it's, like, 10PM and negative bazillion degrees."
"Why are you out?" They counter, finally sinking down and settling a meter or so away from Reki's spot, cross-legged with elegant hands folded in their lap. Well, fine! If they're so determined to be vague like that, he can play too.
"Dunno. Bored, I guess. I mean, I just moved here, so I don't know anyone other than the Hasegawas and my cabin neighbor and my coworkers, and they don't really count because I only talk to them on shift. And I've cleaned the cabin top to bottom and rearranged things and unpacked, so there's nothing to do. And, uh, Okinawa isn't as big as here, so I guess I wanted to just, y'know, get used to the scenery. I haven't even been around the farm much." Reki flushes at how the words spill from his mouth like they haven't in weeks, but it's just nice, nice talking to someone who (presumably) isn't over the age of sixty and seem to be actually interested, cause they've got all eyes on him, attention curled around Reki, and it kind of feels like the whole forest is staring at him, waiting for his next words, and his mouth dries up when he notices, suddenly a little nervous about talking too loud. "Um. You know, basic stuff."
"Basic stuff," the stranger repeats softly, nodding almost imperceptibly. Reki's about to start talking again, kinda wants to tell them literally everything he knows 'cause the urge to stop is gone, but they beat him to it, start talking before he opens his mouth. "May I have your name?"
Reki hesitates, balks at the question, because he hasn't gotten their name yet, maybe they just won't give it and they'll know Reki and he'll never know their name and never see them again and he really doesn't want that to happen, kinda thinks maybe this is the best person he's ever met, and he never wants to give them up.
Oh. Wow, that's. . . a thought. Reki shudders just a little, shaking off the weird idea because that's definitely not something you think about someone you just met, even if they're world-endingly gorgeous and weirdly keyed into your rambling. Little shudders wrack through Reki's arms. The cold's getting to him even more without his jacket, but he doesn't ask for it back 'cause that'd be rude, and the last thing he wants to do is get on their bad side.
"Uh, sure. I'm Reki Kyan," he whispers, shuddering at the cold that's suddenly back with a vengeance. "Can. . . can I have yours?"
The blue-haired stranger stares at Reki, and fuck, now it feels like his brain is mush, fog densening into thick clouds that seep into every little crevice in his skull and saturate passing thoughts, clinging on with heady warmth that pools in his chest. For a second, his vision darkens and it's not even scary because they're right there in front of him, perfect and amazing and every other word Reki can't remember right now, and they really don't matter anyway, as long as they keep looking at him.
"You may call me Langa," they hush back, eyeing him with what Reki might think was suspicion, but how could Langa be suspicious of him? He hasn't even done anything yet, just sat and gave them his jacket and talked a little bit while they listened. He groans a little bit, the haze over his brain lifting just a little, just enough to let him think a little clearer, see past the tunnel vision again. "'S a nice name, man," he grins a little, and Langa just stares in return.
Reki would have gone on to just stare at Langa for the next few hours, but maybe he's been out a little too long, because his watch blares its infuriating little beeps into the silence, rips apart whatever glittery peace there was before and shocks him out of the warmth draped over his shoulders, feels the biting wind cutting deeper than ever into his skin through his thick cotton sleeves. When the hell did it get so cold? He shivers and Langa stares. "Are you cold?"
"Of course I'm cold, dummy, it's like, negative ten million degrees out here!" Reki hisses, feels his nose and cheeks numbing even through his new scarf. "I dunno how you were just standing there earlier, you were wearing like, nothing."
"Why did you give me your coat?" Langa's voice is a little louder, curiosity flickering through the monotone, and Reki kinda flushes a little through his potentially-frostbitten cheeks. "Uh. Y'know, it's cold as hell, and you were a lot more underdressed than me. Figured it'd be better to give us both a better chance of not freezing to death. I'd feel bad if I didn't, cause like, you know. Wouldn't want you to keel over on the way home."
Langa stares at him silently, seemingly completely unaffected by the wind that's whipping the end of Reki's scarf into his chest and threatening to take away his hat. In fact, their clothes aren't even swaying, like they've got their own little bubble of still air, wrapped up in Reki's coat and their cable-knit turtleneck. They still don't thank him.
Reki's watch breaks into a series of insistent beeps again, informing him that it's nearly two in the morning and he's hit double his step goal for today. And Reki just gawks at the screen, because- that's not possible, is it? He just got here, left at seven and found the lake around nine, there's no way it's been five hours because he's barely said anything to Langa aside from a few ramblings. But nope, his phone says the same, 2:08 AM, his alarm rings in four hours. Reki lifts his head and finds Langa a lot closer, close enough at suddenly there's no more wind on his face.
Actually, the wind's disappeared altogether. Reki watches as little snowflakes light down on Langa's pale blue hair, loses them in the strands before he meets their eyes again. They hold his gaze quietly, Reki's chest rising and falling slower than before because now he's inexplicably warmer, no more cold digging its canines into his shoulders. For once he can't talk, sits silently while they stare at each other.
"You should come back tomorrow, Reki. Leave before the weather gets worse." Langa hums lowly, their half-lidded eyes boring into him like icy diamond bullets, piercing right through his skull and into his chest, cold blooming under his breastbone. "Go back to your cabin. Don't forget your backpack."
And since Reki wouldn't ever dream of saying no, he picks up his backpack and shoulders it, manages a little smile in response because that's nice of them, he was totally gonna forget if they hadn't mentioned it, distracted by them and the weird weather and the crazy ways time works. "Thanks, dude. I, uh, I'll come back. See you tomorrow night." On reflex, he raises his hand, goes for a dap, and Langa just shakes it slowly instead, although they look momentarily confused. Reki just grins, huffing softly in the chilly air and blinks when his skin tingles everywhere Langa touched when they let go.
"Alright. Have a safe walk back, Reki." Langa nods towards the slope where he'd slid into the valley, and Reki follows their gaze. Well. That's going to be a pain to get back up, huh? Maybe he should have brought some rope or something, even though he thinks he'd be even worse trying to climb than he was when he tried skiing earlier that week.
He looks back to say bye to Langa, maybe see if they wanted a snack from his bag before they left, but they're gone, only still air and two imprints of tennis shoes left behind where they stood before. No steps going away or towards him, just the two and Reki's boot marks in the sand.
His walk back is twenty times easier than it was on the way up, downhill the whole way and he doesn't trip a single time, the ground that had be gnarled with roots and fallen branches before now only soft ground that holds onto his boots and crunchy leaves that haven't been soaked by the snow yet. He even hears a few birds, singing with the rising sun that makes the snow glitter beneath his feet, and there's a little group of what he thinks are deer that don't even run away while he walks past and waves.
Reki doesn't remember much when he flops into bed at five in the morning, alarms switched off because he doesn't have work or anything important to do today, except maybe go back into the forest and actually see where the trail entrance was, 'cause he didn't exactly wander out with a map when he'd gone and hadn't checked wherever he came out. That's for future Reki to worry about, though, since he's tired as all Hell and it's not as if anyone's going to miss him at the breakfast table or something.
Still, he sits in bed for a little while and just. . . thinks. Which, admittedly, isn't a habit of his, so the whole train of thought jumps from thing to thing and swerves into new subjects like a truck spinning out, except that truck keeps slamming directly into the massive thought structure that is Langa. Everything keeps circling back to the stranger, back to their striking face and quiet voice and apparent silence. Seriously, who the hell moves like that? He'd almost missed them completely when they showed up, only noticed because they were standing right over him while he was checking out the lake water.
He digs through his brain for a good ten minutes, trying to figure out how to describe Langa in easier words than just something. Weird isn't enough. Confusing, maybe. Enigma is the closest he can get to what he thinks, and yeah, that matches up pretty well, Langa the enigma. Hard to understand. Then again, isn't he the same, from their point of view? Sure, he'd yapped their ear off about random stuff, but it's not like he talked too much about himself, just how he got here and what's happening back home.
Reki wonders if they're thinking about him right now. Probably not. In fact, they're probably dead asleep right now, in their own bed in some other house, dreaming about whatever Canadians that happen to speak Japanese dream about. Snow, maybe, or maple syrup.
That thought brings him enough peace to finally close his eyes and drift off, curled into warm blankets and soft pillows that still kinda smell like home.
There's a wet nose snuffling around Reki's face when he wakes up.
Given, Reki doesn't process it immediately, just kind of thinks the prodding is him laying weird. But then there's the unmistakable sound of paws against the wooden floor and the thump of a tail on the rug, and that's what gets him to open his eyes to be greeted by the big black snout nudging eagerly at his hoodie, leaving a damp imprint on the yellow fabric.
Looking past the slobber dripping onto his sheets, Reki blinks tiredly at the snow-dusted husky with its paws up on the mattress, tail helicoptering around behind. Looking past that whole situation, he stares at his open door for a second, then registers that it's fucking freezing in here.
Connecting the dots isn't so hard after he falls out of bed and stumbles into the hall, shivering violently because the front door is open and there's snow tracked in all over the floor, and the dog is standing behind him, panting happily with its tail wagging like it didn't just cost Reki God knows how much in heating. He nearly slips trying to shut the door, hopping on and off each foot because cold cold cold!
Reki stands on the living room rug while he glances over the mess. Now that he's a bit more awake and not trying to keep from going broke, he reasons that it's really not that bad. Just some melted snow and a new dog that doesn't seem to want to leave. It's sitting next to him, just happy to be there, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't stop to pet it a few times.
He puts on his boots and slips outside for a minute, just to check if there's maybe a new 'Missing Dog' poster or if someone's running around, but there's no one outside other than the path shoveler Reki's nicknamed Peter in his head. He ducks back inside and starts cleaning up.
So. Spreading a bath towel over the mess gets most of it up, and he figures the rest will just dry itself at some point. The dog is on the sofa, pressing its nose against pillows and between cushions curiously. Reki scoots over and plops down next to it, and the husky backs up and shoves its snout into his face, barking enthusiastically.
After a laughing fit and some playful wrestling, Reki manages to get the dog to sit so he can tug its blue collar around, cheeks hurting from his smile while he reads the tiny engraved text on the steel tag. "Koda." So, English name, he guesses, hopes he's pronouncing it right because Koda lifts her head to lick his face again. There's a number on the back of the tag, too, so he taps it into his nearly-dead phone while pushing Koda's fluffy face away.
While it rings, Reki twists the tag a little again, admiring the shine a little before squinting close to read the even smaller text beneath the number. It's in English, or maybe French? They speak French here too, right? Either way, it's definitely not Japanese, and it's words that he doesn't recognize immediately. His attention gets pulled away when the call isn't answered, and he drops the tag and picks his phone up again, sets it on charge.
Maybe the Hasegawas know whose dog it is. He'll take her up there and see if they recognize her, and if they don't, well, Reki's always wanted a pet! He figures he'll go back to the forest after, explore a little more, so he shoulders his backpack again and ties up his boots, before stopping in front of Koda.
Reki doesn't have a leash. Sure, she seems pretty well trained, but he's pretty sure he'd die of terror if he lost her on the way to the farmhouse, especially since there's so much snow and aren't dogs supposed to stay dry or else they'll get sick? So he'll have to make a compromise, or find a substitute. He didn't pack too much in the realm of ropes or leashes, more stuck to his tools and favorite clothes and art, not pet care things.
Koda ends up with one leg of a pair of sweats tucked into her collar, the other in Reki's hand while he keeps a careful eye on the dog and walks instead of skating, because the last thing he needs is to break his arm when Koda sees an animal and yanks him off his skateboard, no matter how much he wants to at least try riding with a dog tugging along. It would definitely be fun, but maybe not in the best interest of his health.
So he settles to walk. It's not far, just twenty minutes, but halfway there he's panting because the cold is stabbing through his lungs and it's not pleasant like it was with Langa the night before, instead a lot more like someone's driven a frozen knife up between his ribs. Koda is bouncing along happily, unbothered, while Reki struggles behind her, jogging to keep up and make sure the sweatpants don't tug loose.
Except Reki isn't the fastest guy alive, despite his teenage racing hobbies, and Koda's way too wiggly to keep an untied pant leg actually attached under her collar. The fabric falls away and she immediately turns off the road, trotting towards the treeline. Reki momentarily stares forlornly at the failed attempt at a leash, regrets never bothering to learn how to tie knots in primary school, before he realizes yeah, there's supposed to be a dog there.
His feet beat against the ground while he runs after the dog, shouting loudly enough to crack his voice, stumbles right past the fence that blocks off one of the main farm's fields and sprints after Koda, trying not to break his nose slipping in the powdery snow.
So he runs, and keeps running, kind of ignores his exhausted legs because fuck fuck fuck I lost the dog god fucking damnit and manages to only almost kill himself twice before he shoots directly off the edge of a semi-familiar slope and screeches when he tumbles and rolls over himself, slipping and sliding to a stop at the edge of a familiar shallow shore.
Reki lies in the gravelly sand for a good minute, wills away the burning in his cheeks and at the edges of his eyes while he breathes slow and registers his aching back, already feels new scratches and a decently sized bruise forming underneath his shirt and backpack. He groans softly getting up, the dull pain mixed with the rising head fog hitting him hard enough to keep him off his feet. He still forces himself to sit up, swiveling around panickedly to find Koda. . .
. . .who is directly to his left, jumping up onto a somewhat pleased looking blue-haired kinda-stranger, receiving semi-enthusiastic pets. Reki blinks, and Langa notices him, waves just a little before they gently push Koda off their chest and step over to Reki, standing over him with a weirdly blank look, kinda seem like they're struggling for a minute before asking "Do you need help standing up?"
And he kinda flushes more than really's needed, considering he's probably red-cheeked and his nose is dripping and there's gravel clinging to his clothes. Reki's probably the most embarrassing guy in the world, how the hell do you fuck up this bad in front of possibly the coolest person ever, they're never gonna talk to me again oh my God I'm never gonna make friends at this rate- before he registers their question.
"O-Oh!" He's on his feet two seconds flat, immediately rubbing his neck and avoiding Langa's icy eyes. "I, uh, I'm good, thanks. For, uh, offering, I mean, thank you for offering to help. I'm fine, though, just some scratches! Hey, uh, is that-"
He clamps his mouth shut when Langa stares at him, Koda standing next to them and wagging her tail happily. Reki glances between stranger and dog, holds back a snicker because they kinda look the same, hah, all thin faces and wide blue eyes, before he levels his gaze with Langa's cool one. "I- Sorry. I'm fine, swear, I've done worse before."
"Tell me about it," Langa hums after a pause, gently beckoning Reki a little closer. He follows immediately because why not? It's not like he has work or anywhere to be. No one's gonna miss him if he just sits here a little while, right? So he follows Langa, still painfully curious about a ton of shit like how the Hell they move like a ghost but forcing himself not to ask stupid questions since now is not the time, you're gonna scare them off. He drops down on a conveniently-shaped log, sighs 'cause his legs feel like jelly from running so far so fast with his bag and board strapped on his back.
"Wa- Wait, like, actually?" Reki gives Langa a slightly confused look, a little careful since it wouldn't be the first time someone asked him to tell them something only to make fun of him later. "'Cause there's a really high chance I'm gonna start talking and not, y'know, stop, unless you tell me to. So, uh. You can. Tell me to stop, I mean. It's just-"
"Reki." Langa interrupts, sat next to him and looking much more composed than him. "Tell me some of your stories. From Okinawa." They hesitate, before tacking on, "Please," with a kinda strained smile.
And Reki can't say no to that, especially since he just got a smile out of them, which is ten times the emotion they've shown so far. And besides, talking to them yesterday had been amazing. Finally having someone to talk to and spill every unending thought out since Langa just listens, only interrupting when they don't know a Japanese word or need Reki to give some background, which leads to more explanations and more stories, is incredibly relieveing.
Before he knows it, it's starting to get a little darker, shadows stretching across the little valley. Koda's lying on Reki's legs, dozing off, so he's really not keen on moving anytime soon because his legs are also asleep. His head is still a little cloudy, but he's gotten used to it, kind of likes the warm feeling that rises in his chest whenever Langa focuses on him again.
"You know, it's so weird," Reki slows after explaining his old job at DopeSketch, sighs a little and leans against the tree behind the log. "Every time I come out here, it feels like I forget about everything else for a while. Like, I completely forgot the time yesterday, and the same thing happened just now. It's like I blinked and suddenly it's dark."
Langa nods idly, running thin fingers over the scratches on the bottom of Reki's board. They'd asked about it when he started talking about S, have been inspecting it for the last five minutes, tracing the design and curiously flipping it over once or twice. It's kinda silly, like they've never seen something like it before. He's about to tell them, before they beat him to the chase.
"Do you still skate?" Langa lifts their head, tilted just slightly, still holding the board in their lap and if Reki were a little bit dumber, he might think Langa looked hopeful, like they actually wanted to know.
"Oh, uh. . . yeah, but not as much, since the snow's literally everywhere. I'm sure there's an indoor park somewhere, but I gotta focus on setting up before I even think about going off to look for it. Even if I really wanna." He sighs a little, snickering at Langa's little frown. "What? Don't worry, I'll figure it out." Reki hesitates, then smiles again.
"Maybe I can take you along once I find a good place. If, uh," he stalls, flushing under Langa's intense, shining eyes. "Only if you wanna, I mean. I could. . . teach you? To skateboad." Their silence is kinda nerve-wracking for the first time, and he squirms a little anxiously.
". . .teach me. To skateboard." Langa repeats slowly, eyes flicking back down to Reki's board in their hands. They flip it again, gently touching the worn grip on top.
"I don't have a board." Their lips pull into a worried little frown again.
"I'll make you one!" Reki grins wide, scoots a little closer and Koda gives him a whine, drooping her head on Langa's folded knees. "I've got the stuff, I brought it all from home. You can choose the color and everything, if you want. And I made a ton of boards at DopeSketch, so you're in good hands. I promise it won't be a piece of crap."
Langa stills at the final words, eyes Reki a little doubtfully. Which, ow, but he did just meet them yesterday, so they're entitled to at least a little bit of skepticism.
"You promise?" They echo back, and Reki senses the weird intensity in their tone, kinda figures maybe they take stuff like that seriously, so he nods. "'Course. I wouldn't give anyone a board that breaks after two runs. Bad business, y'know?" Langa's nod reassures him a bit, even if the cold is creeping in a little more than it was before, seeping into his new jacket.
"Hey, you're wearing my coat." Reki didn't realize it before, but now that he's kinda actually focusing on what's going on around him instead of just Langa and Koda, he notices their outfit. Still wildly underdressed- slacks are insane in this weather- but they are wearing the jacket he gave them the night before. He smiles, glancing over it quickly, notes that some of the tears have grown larger. "Comfy?"
Langa looks surprised, dropping their head down to look at themself and then looking back to him, pretty blue eyes wide. Reki also realizes it's kind of small on them, the hem ending right around the middle of their waist, where on Reki it would hang around his hips. And then he realizes just how tall they are, has a full head on him, and they have to look down to meet his eyes. That's gotta be unnatural.
". . . yes. Very warm." They shift a little on the ground, settling the skateboard against the log and threading their long fingers through Koda's fur, gently skritching her cheeks. "I appreciate the gift."
Well. That's as close as Reki'll get to 'thanks', huh? It warms his chest anyway, makes him happy he could help at least a little. "Great. Served me well the last few years! I bet you can get a few months out of it, at least. I mean, probably even longer if you know how to fix those rips." Reki playfully pokes at one of the torn seams on Langa's shoulder. They tense at the touch, and Reki blinks quickly, pulls away because that was out of line, and now he feels a little bad. "Sorry. Force of habit, y'know?" He offers a smile.
Langa's eyes flicker between Koda and Reki, carefully reaching around to ruffle the husky's ears and lean a little more on the log. Reki watches their expression carefully, wants to make sure they're not gonna bolt 'cause he touched them too casually, but they don't look like it so he relaxes a little.
". . . I don't know," Langa hums after some semi-awkward silence, swiveling their head to look up at Reki. "How to fix tears. Or put on patches. Or sew." A little frown tugs at their lips, and they shift focus back to Koda. "I'm not very good at. . . fixing things."
"I get it," Reki huffs lightly and leans forward on his knees, smiling. "It's actually pretty easy. I do it all the time, once I even tried sewing my own sweater! Which, uh, didn't turn out great. But it was kinda functional, so it counted. I could totally bring a needle and some old shirts next time, if you wanna try. I'm like, the number one skills teacher in the world, man!" He grins, playing up the cocky tone.
"I somehow doubt that," Langa replies dryly, but the smile that pulls across their face when Reki chuckles is worth the sass. "That. . . that'd be nice, though. If you taught me. Helpful, maybe."
"'S a deal then, man." Reki ignores the head fog that's suddenly washing over him for the third time this week, shakes his head a little to try and make it leave again. "Oh, this is gonna be awesome. I haven't taught anyone to sew or skate since I left! Dude, you're gonna be super good at like, everything when I'm through with you!"
The sharp grin he wears is countered with Langa's shy smile, and Reki thinks idly that it's a nice look on them, a little bit of excitement mixed in with careful hope. His grin fades to a smile, and he exhales and leans back again. "This totally means we're friends now, by the way. Just to let you know."
Langa's smile remains soft, and they're still petting Koda, still wearing Reki's coat, and still drop-dead gorgeous. He's kinda jealous, actually, because it's so unfair that they get to look like that in the middle of a snowstorm, where the wind seems to fade to a whisper in their presence, while Reki looks like he got tossed around in a blizzard and caught a cold.
". . . alright." They nod slightly, impossibly blue eyes flickering to the shiny water on the lake a few meters from their feet. The surface is still reflecting pretty constellations and the moon above. "Friends. We can be friends, Reki."