Chapter Text
In the last few weeks that he’s been skating again, Langa’s grown a lot more comfortable being on the ice. He’s mostly adjusted to his higher centre of gravity now, becoming more aware of how his body moves and learning how to use it in his favour.
He’s gained more control over his movements, able to skate faster without flying off his edges. Sharp turns are, thankfully, no longer an issue. He’s spent a lot of time practicing footwork, working towards making precise turns with the ease he’d possessed before. Sometimes Reki will challenge him with random turn sequences, which eventually turns into a game in which they both add onto the sequence until one of them messes up.
It’s fun. It’s fun in a way Langa had forgotten skating could be.
At the start of the third week, Langa decides that he’s ready to try spinning again, to Reki’s delight. Langa’s spins had always been one of his stronger points, after all.
Perhaps he was too quick to get his hopes up, though, because Langa’s first attempt at a camel spin is… disastrous, to say the least. He goes into it with too much force, forgetting to account for the fact that not only has his balance changed from before, but he’s also stronger than he used to be. This leads to him flying off his edge and intimately acquainting his face with the ice before he can even get into the spin. Reki doesn’t stop laughing about it for the rest of the session. Langa just gives him a dirty look before brushing the snow off his front and trying it again.
It takes him a few more tries, but he eventually manages to find his balance and centre the spin properly, something his face is very thankful for.
Once he’s able to stabilize his basic spin positions, he moves onto combining them and trying out more difficult variations. He and Reki make a game out of this too, throwing increasingly ridiculous spin positions and combinations at each other until they’re both lying on the ice, uncaring of the cold seeping into their backs, clutching their stomachs as they laugh.
“Dude, how loose are your shoulders and your back?” Reki asks one day when Langa’s working on camel variations. “I can’t even do that kinda stuff on a good day.”
“I may not have been skating, but I still kept up with stretching and stuff,” Langa explains. “Gave me something to do.” Reki grins at that, patting him on the back hard enough that he stumbles a bit. Langa shoots him a half-hearted glare, but Reki just glances off to the side, feigning innocence through a sad attempt at whistling.
To get back at him, Langa purposefully hip-checks Reki into the boards on his way to grab a drink because apparently, being around him brings out Langa’s childish side. This leads to a shoving match between the two that ends with Langa lying on his stomach and Reki perched atop his back with a smug grin.
“A word of advice for next time, I never lose when it comes to scuffles like these. I grew up with three younger sisters, so I’m used to this sort of thing,” Reki boasts.
“Noted,” Langa groans, voice a little strained due to the weight on his back.
At the start of the fourth week, Langa decides that he’s finally ready to try jumping again. He starts slow, spending the entire week getting used to the feeling of being in the air again, sticking exclusively to single and double jumps. It doesn’t take him long to get comfortable with them, though, and soon he becomes all too aware of that ever-present itch to do more, to reach higher.
But is he ready to take that step?
The idea of trying triples again after so long has him buzzing with anticipation. He’s never been scared of jumping; if anything, he welcomed the challenge, always eager to try new things. The same holds true even now. He’s missed jumping, the feeling of flying, of freedom. The rush of euphoria that comes with nailing a clean jump. He wants to take flight, to prove that he’s not broken, that he’s never been broken. With Reki’s help, he’s been building himself up again, mending his wings and preparing to take to the skies once more.
Yet, there’s something that has him hesitating. Somehow, this feels completely different from every step forward he’s taken until now, like there’s some sort of unspoken boundary. And once he crosses over it, there’s no going back.
If he starts doing triples, then that would mean he’s serious about this. It’s a much higher level of commitment to the sport.
It feels… big. Langa doesn’t always think things through, but this is something he doesn’t want to rush into without considering the implications.
So he decides to sit on the thought for a few days with the intention of revisiting it at a later time. That plan lasts for about half a day before it comes crashing down because Reki seems to have a completely different idea. One that involves forcing Langa to stare the decision in the face and really consider it.
“Hey, Langa…” Reki starts as they’re both perched on the boards, taking a break after trying to see who could do the most double loops in a row.
(It was Reki. Langa had no idea he was so good at jump combinations.)
“Hm?” Langa looks over at him, pausing where he’d been lifting his water bottle up to his lips. A little bit of water spills out and onto his front, and he curses softly. Reki chuckles, but his expression soon shifts back into something more serious.
“Have you thought at all about competing again?”
Langa figured this conversation would happen sooner or later. He really should have considered that knowing Reki, it would definitely fall into the “sooner” end of things. Of course, he didn’t consider it, and now he finds himself thrown off balance by the question.
He tries to sift through the disorganized mess of his thoughts in an attempt to string them together into something at least semi-coherent. He’s not very successful and he curses his past self for deciding it would be a good idea to put this off.
He must have stayed silent for too long, because Reki starts to backtrack, gesticulating wildly as he tries to explain himself.
“It’s okay if you haven’t! I was just wondering because, well, you’ve started jumping again and the next step for you would obviously be triples right? And if you’re gonna be doing triples then that means you’re probably serious about this. Or at least that’s what I thought!” Reki's rambling is starting to sound mildly hysterical. His words are coming out faster and faster until Langa can barely keep up. “You can do triples for fun too! But I was thinking, y’know, if you want to start training seriously again, I could talk to my coach about taking you in! Ah, but I’m probably getting ahead of myself. I don’t even know if you actually want to—”
“Reki.” Langa finally manages to cut in and he swears he hears Reki’s jaw snap shut with an audible click. “Slow down. You’re fine,” he says, huffing a laugh when Reki lets out an exaggerated sigh of relief. “I’d be lying if I said the thought hadn’t crossed my mind,” he continues.
Reki's eyes light up, and Langa can almost see the sparkles in them. Like this, he resembles an overexcited puppy about to go for its first walk, a thought that greatly amuses Langa. Still, Reki seems aware that Langa has more to say and remains quiet, though it obviously takes quite a bit of effort on his part.
“It’s a big decision for me. A month ago, the thought of even stepping back on the ice hadn’t crossed my mind,” Langa explains, looking down at his feet dangling above the ice. “And yet, here I am, learning how to skate again.”
Here he is, choosing to come back, again and again. Every day, he chooses to step back on the ice, to give skating another try, to push a little further. He knows all too well that he could walk away from it, if he really wanted to. He could leave it all behind and never look back.
But he doesn’t.
He’d expected the thought of making a competitive comeback to fill him with dread. He’d expected it to feel like a knife in the gut, carving a hole out of him and leaving him hollow.
But it doesn’t.
He fidgets with a hole in his glove, trying to find the words to properly explain what he’s feeling. A glance to the side shows Reki watching him attentively, a small smile on his face. He catches Langa’s gaze, giving him an encouraging nod.
“I don’t want to stop. I know that I can still go further. I want to go further. I just… I need to think about it some more. About competing. I need to be sure if it’s what I want.”
Reki’s smile widens, and Langa catches a glimpse of something like understanding in his eyes. “Of course, take all the time you need.”
Langa nods. He still has a lot to think about, but at least now he has a starting point.
•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•
Langa tries his first triple the next evening.
He opts for trying a triple salchow first, since that had been the most comfortable jump for him before. It takes him a couple of tries to actually commit to the jump; despite his excitement, he still can’t help the nervous butterflies making themselves known at the prospect of actually following through with it.
When he does finally pull into the jump, it’s simultaneously exhilarating and terrifying. The feeling of the rapid rotation is both familiar and unfamiliar; it’s something he’s done so many times that his body could never forget it, but he also has no idea where he is in the air. He loosens up his air position at the last second and ends up underrotating the jump slightly, but the landing itself isn’t too painful. Overall, it’s not bad for a first attempt, if Reki’s whoops and cheers are any indicator.
The next week is full of falls, falls, and more falls as Langa makes more attempts at various triples. They all feel much better after the first one he tries, but it’s still a struggle to adapt to the feeling, especially since he’s grown so much since the last time he jumped. He’s pretty sure his ass is going to be permanently bruised at this rate, but such is the life of a figure skater.
Reki makes sure to record Langa’s jump attempts on his phone, pointing out little things to fix in his technique. He sends Langa the best attempts, which is appreciated. He also sends the particularly stupid falls, which is… slightly less appreciated, but also makes for great entertainment. At least Reki thinks it’s funny, if the sound of him wheezing in the background of each video is any indicator.
His attempts improve as he gets used to jumping and becomes more aware of his position in the air. There are some take-offs that feel really good, though he still hasn’t quite got the timing down yet.
Some attempts are not as lucky. After one particularly crappy take-off, his ankle rolls on the landing, and not even the support provided by his boot is enough to completely nullify the impact. He winces as he stands up, carefully testing to see how much weight he can put on his foot. Reki is at his side in an instant.
“Damn, that looked like it hurt. Are you alright? Can you stand on it? Wait, let’s get you over there so I can take a look at it.” Reki fires off question after question as he guides Langa over to the bench so he can sit down.
“Reki, it’s fine,” Langa insists, and it’s true. The initial impact had been more of a shock than anything, and the pain in his ankle has died down to a dull throb. “I just need to walk it off.”
Reki isn’t having any of that, though, and simply narrows his eyes at Langa in response. “Skate. Off.”
Langa sighs, but does as he’s told, quickly unlacing his left skate and slipping it off. He gives Reki an expectant look when he’s done.
Reki kneels down in front of him and gestures for Langa to hold his foot out. He holds it gently, twisting it this way and that, gauging Langa’s reactions.
“This hurt?” He asks every time he moves it a different way. Langa shakes his head, but can’t hold back a wince at the slight twinge of pain that shoots through his ankle when Reki twists his foot inward.
“Gotcha,” Reki mutters to himself. He sets Langa’s foot down and hurries over to his bag. Langa turns his head to watch him. “It’s minor, nothing a night of rest and lots of ice can’t fix,” he explains as he rummages through his things. He makes a small noise of triumph before pulling out a small box.
Langa tilts his head in confusion, unable to get a good view of the box. “What is it?”
“Athletic tape!” Reki declares proudly, puffing his chest out slightly. “I always make sure to keep some with me!”
“You get hurt that often?” Langa raises an eyebrow, unsure of why Reki would be proud of such a thing. Reki squawks indignantly.
“No! Well, maybe sometimes, but that’s not the point! It’s more of a ‘just in case’ sort of thing,” he defends. “For myself, or for others. Y’know, like you,” he punctuates the last part by jabbing a finger into Langa’s chest. “Anyway, take your sock off. I’m gonna tape your ankle up for you.”
“Why.” It’s more of a statement than a question. Reki raises an eyebrow as if to say really? You’re actually asking?
“It’s precautionary. It might not be a big deal right now, but I don’t want to risk you making it worse. This should help stabilize it,” he says as he pulls the roll of tape out of the box. “Off,” he demands, eyeing Langa’s foot that is decidedly not sockless.
Langa frowns. Reki’s already done so much for him, he doesn’t need to go to all this trouble for Langa. “Reki, I’m okay. You really don’t have to—” he tries to explain but Reki cuts him off.
“Langa. Please?” There’s something pleading in Reki’s eyes, genuine concern mixed with a tinge of… fear?
What does he have to be scared of? He’s not the one who twisted his ankle, and he’d even said himself that it wasn’t anything major. Whatever the reason, it’s enough for Langa to realize that he may very well be troubling Reki more by not letting him take care of it.
“Fine,” Langa sighs, finally reaching down to pull his sock off. “It really is okay, though.” He tries to put as much reassurance as he can into his tone.
Reki runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit. “Ugh, I know, I just… I’d rather you be safe. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
There’s something else hidden in those words, a deeper meaning, but Langa can’t quite figure out what it is. He decides not to dwell on it though, instead focusing on the way Reki gently but deftly tapes his foot up, as though he’s done it a million times before.
“You’re quite good at that,” Langa comments.
Reki shrugs. “Yeah, well, I’ve had lots of practice.”
“I thought you said you didn’t get hurt that often.”
“I never said I only did it for myself.”
It takes a moment, but Langa manages to make the connection. “Oh. Your partner?”
“Yeah,” Reki responds, huffing a laugh. It sounds slightly strained, though Langa wonders if it’s just his mind playing tricks on him. “He could be pretty clumsy sometimes. Like a certain someone I know,” he finishes, shooting Langa a crooked grin.
“I’m not that clumsy,” Langa retorts, a little defensively.
“Yes, yes, you’re very graceful when you’re not busy falling on your face,” Reki says breezily, patting the side of his leg before letting go of his foot. “There, you’re all set!”
Langa circles his foot experimentally. The tape is tight enough to keep his ankle secure, but not so tight that it cuts off his circulation. “It’s perfect. Thanks, Reki.”
Reki’s smile softens. “Anytime, dude.”
Langa reaches for his skate, but Reki is quick to snatch it away from him.
“Nope, no, you are done for the day,” Reki scolds. Langa narrows his eyes, unimpressed, but Reki doesn’t budge. “Oh don’t give me that look, do you want to wreck your ankle? No, you’re going home and you’re going to ice the shit out of that foot. I will carry you home myself if I have to.”
“Can you even lift me up?” Langa fires back.
Reki smirks. “Don’t underestimate the strength of a pairs boy.” He makes a show of flexing his arms. Langa snorts, rolling his eyes even as a grin tugs at the corners of his lips. He ignores the way his cheeks heat up at the thought of Reki carrying him.
“Fine, fine,” Langa concedes, bending forward to untie his other skate. Reki takes a seat next to him and also begins untying his skates, much to Langa’s surprise. “Wait, what are you doing? Don’t you want to skate a little more?”
Reki waves him off. “Don’t worry about that. I have to make sure you make it home in one piece.”
Langa examines him for a moment, but finds nothing but honesty in Reki’s expression. He decides to drop the subject, knowing that there’s no arguing with Reki once he’s made up his mind.
True to his word, Reki walks Langa all the way back to his apartment rather than splitting off like usual, insisting that he has to be sure Langa makes it home safe lest he somehow manage to bust up his ankle even more. “You’re always spacing out, what if you hurt yourself again?”
Langa rolls his eyes but doesn’t bother protesting. It’s not like he minds the company, anyway.
When they make it to the apartment, Reki has Langa promise five different ways that he’ll make sure to ice his ankle and rest it. It’s only then that Reki finally lets go of him and begins making his way home. Still, Langa has to admit he didn’t really mind all the fussing.
Knowing that Reki’s looking out for him… it’s nice. It makes Langa feel safe. Secure.
Sure enough, his ankle is good as new after plenty of ice and a good night’s rest. Reki still makes him take it easy the next day, but Langa doesn’t fight him on it lest Reki make good on his promise and forcibly drag Langa out of the rink. Even a little bit of practice is better than nothing.
By the next day, his ankle is perfectly fine and he’s able to start jumping again. Reki remains tense at first, but relaxes slightly when Langa hasn’t completely destroyed his ankle after his first few attempts.
With each passing day, Langa’s attempts get closer and closer to being successful. He goes from falling every time to the occasional step-out, and it’s both exciting and frustrating because he’s so close. He can feel it, he knows he can do it, but his body is still lagging behind a little bit, trying to figure out what his mind already knows.
Yet, despite knowing how close he’s been getting, it still comes as a surprise when he finally lands his first triple.
It’s a night like any other, another session packed with fall after fall after fall. He can feel how close he is to landing it, but as the night progresses, he resigns himself to the fact that maybe today won’t be the day, after all.
It’s getting late, even for them. Reki’s perched up on top of the boards with his phone in hand, having already finished with everything he’d wanted to practice that session. Langa can feel his legs starting to tire from all the jump reps he’s done, but he refuses to admit defeat until he gets at least one more decent attempt in.
“Just one more,” he insists. Reki narrows his eyes, which is understandable considering Langa’s been saying that for the last five or six tries. “I’m serious this time! Just one more, and then I’ll stop for today.”
Reki eyes him skeptically for a moment longer before sighing. “Only one,” he warns, “because if you so much as consider doing another one after that, I swear to god, Hasegawa, I will drag you off the ice myself.”
Langa just nods his agreement. He knows Reki may very well make good on that promise, and isn’t willing to push his luck that far and find out.
He takes a deep breath, then circles around the rink so he can collect speed. As he skates into the jump, he focuses as hard as he can on going through the preparation one step at a time. Just like he’s practiced, the way he knows how.
There. As soon as he takes off he can tell it’s going to be a good one.
He lands the jump, solid and steady as though he’s never stepped off the ice a day in his life, and it’s the most incredible feeling in the world. The feeling of his blade sinking into the ice, solid beneath him. The flow coming out of the jump, the smoothness of the landing. It’s intoxicating.
He whips his head around, still holding his landing position, searching for Reki as if to say did you see that? Reki stares back, wide-eyed, phone still raised up and pointed in Langa’s direction. For a moment, neither of them say anything.
And then Reki’s shouting and Langa vaguely registers that he might be shouting, too, because it just feels so damn good. His heart soars and he wonders if maybe his wings aren’t so broken, after all.
“Langa! Holy shit!” Reki pushes himself off the boards and all but sprints over to Langa, wrapping his arms around Langa and lifting him up. Langa lets out a surprised squeak as Reki spins them around a couple of times, grabbing onto his shoulders for stability. Reki beams at him, setting him down but keeping his arms loosely wrapped around his waist. “Dude, that was amazing! Oh man, I knew you could do it! How does it feel?”
Langa grins back, wider than he has in a long time and for once, the expression doesn’t feel out of place. It’s perfectly suited for the sheer elation running through him. “It feels… incredible,” he breathes.
Reki's smile softens. He taps his fist to Langa’s chest, and Langa absently wonders if Reki can feel his heart pounding. For once, he doesn’t prompt Langa to elaborate on his one-word answer; perhaps it’s written all over his face. The way his heart is hammering in his chest, the adrenaline coursing through his veins, the pure ecstasy he’s experiencing in this moment… it’s all too much for him to contain.
As Langa stands there, basking in this incredible feeling, all he can think is that he wants to feel it again. He wants to do this again. And again. And again.
He never wants to stop.
For the longest time, he’s been standing at a crossroads. Two paths lie before him, but only one of them will make him happy. And he’s the only one who can make that decision, who can choose the path he ultimately takes.
For the first time in a long time, Langa finally knows what he wants. In this moment, he knows what will make him happy, and he feels more certain than ever: everything he’s been doing until now… it was always going to lead to this.
In this moment, his love for skating is well and truly reignited. He thinks he’ll never feel cold again, if he can keep doing this.
He wants to take to the skies for the world to see. He wants to burn so brightly that nobody could possibly miss it. He wants everyone to watch him, to know the stories he has to tell through his skating.
He wants to choose happiness.
He wants…
“Reki,” he starts. “I want to skate. I want to keep going, as far as I can go. I want to go out there and perform.” He lowers his voice here, whispering his last confession. “I want everyone to know how much I love skating.”
Reki stares at Langa, wide-eyed, before a brilliant grin spreads across his face. He makes a delighted sound, bouncing a little with excitement. “Langa! Oh my god! You—! I’m so—”
“Excited?” Langa finishes for him, seeing as Reki seems to be incapable of forming complete sentences at the moment. He’s pretty sure the grin on his face matches Reki’s at this point; his face might actually split if it were to get any wider.
“Well, sure, that too. But I was going to say,” Reki’s smile softens, and he squeezes Langa’s waist, “I’m really happy for you, Langa.”
The combination of Reki’s expression and his words fills Langa with a feeling he can’t quite put a name to, something warm and comforting and fond that spreads from his chest to the rest of his body. He’s not sure he’d be able to put everything he’s feeling into words, so he settles for letting his hands trail down slightly from Reki’s shoulders to his biceps and squeezes lightly in return.
Just then, the memory of a conversation from the week prior resurfaces.
“Oh, uh, Reki? Remember last week, when you said you would talk to your coach,” Langa begins hesitantly, continuing when Reki gives him an encouraging nod. “Did you mean that?”
“Of course!” Reki answers immediately. “You already know that I want to help you in any way I can.”
Langa nods, lips pulling into a small smile. “I appreciate it. I’ll have to talk to my mom first, though.”
“Yeah, do that! Let me know what she says so I’ll know when we can go talk to my coach.”
“Mhm, I will.” Langa hesitates only for a second before wrapping his arms around Reki and giving him a quick hug. Reki squeaks in surprise, but pats him on the back a couple of times. “Thanks, Reki.”
“It’s no problem, really. After all, what are friends for, right?” Reki grins before pulling back to grab Langa’s wrist, leading him off the ice. “Anyway, that’s your quota for today. Don’t make me drag you out of here!”
“You’re already dragging me,” Langa points out, but he’s grinning too.
“You know what I mean!”
“Yeah, yeah, I got it.”
Langa lets Reki pull him over to their bags. He lets go of Langa’s wrist long enough for them to remove their skates and pack up, but latches onto him again once they’ve locked up.
He doesn’t let go until they have to part ways for the night.
•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•
By the time Langa makes it back to the apartment, the excitement has mostly worn off, replaced with the exhaustion of the day. Still, something about it is pleasant, a reminder that he’s worked hard. He pulls his keys from his pocket and unlocks the door.
“I’m home,” he calls out as he enters the apartment and slips his shoes off. He pads into the living area to see his mother seated on the couch, laptop forgotten on her lap as she looks up.
“Langa, it’s late!” She chides.
“I usually come home pretty late though.”
She raises an eyebrow at that. “Even for you.” She sighs, setting her laptop down on the end table in front of her before standing up and walking over to the dining table. “Well, as long as you’re staying safe. Dinner’s a bit cold, though.”
“That’s alright, I don’t mind.”
“Of course, I know you’ll eat just about anything,” she teases, uncovering the plates she’d laid out on the table earlier. “So how was your session,” she asks once they’re both seated. “Still sore?”
“It was good,” Langa answers, pausing to take a bite of his meal. Once he swallows, he continues. “I landed a triple sal today.”
“Langa!” She stands up, moving around the table to wrap him up in a tight embrace. “That’s amazing! Oh sweetheart, I’m so proud of you.”
Langa smiles as he buries his face in her shoulder. “Mom,” he starts, voice slightly muffled. “I think… I want to compete again.” He speaks quietly, but the declaration feels loud, amplified in the otherwise quiet room. His heart pounds, but the words don’t feel out of place. It feels right.
He thinks of flying, of freedom, of an old experience made new again. He thinks of late nights spent relearning how to skate, of countless falls and endless laughter. He thinks of the rush that came with the flawless execution of the jump. He thinks of the sheer elation he felt when he realized he was still on his feet, when Reki ran over to him and scooped him up in his arms, when he realized that he was happy. He thinks of how he wants to keep feeling that, again and again until his legs give out on him.
His mother squeezes him a little bit tighter before pulling back slightly so she can make eye contact. She gives him a watery smile, but her voice is steady as she speaks. “If that’s what you want, if that’s what will make you happy, then of course I’ll support you.” She pulls away, pinching his cheek affectionately before sitting back down.
He smiles back, hoping to convey his gratitude. “Thanks, mom.”
“Of course, sweetie. It’s nice to see you smiling again.” Her expression turns thoughtful. “I suppose I’ll have to get in contact with the club, then.”
“Ah, about that,” Langa interjects. “Reki said he can talk to his coach about letting me train there. I can give him your contact information.”
“How thoughtful! First the skates, now this…” his mother’s face lights up. “You should bring Reki-kun over sometime so I can thank him in person!”
Langa supposes that’s only fair, considering he’s already met Reki’s family. “I will, don’t worry.”
“Good.” She smiles, satisfied with his response. “Ah, this is so exciting! I’m looking forward to speaking with your coach, too.”
“He’s not my coach yet. We still don’t know if they’ll let me in,” Langa points out.
“Oh, they will,” his mother doesn’t hesitate to answer. Langa raises an eyebrow, so she elaborates. “Why wouldn’t you? You’re an amazing skater. And besides, Reki-kun is the one doing the talking, right? I’m sure he’ll be able to convince them to let you in.” She winks. “After all, he convinced you to get back on the ice, so he must be a pretty smooth talker.”
Langa huffs a laugh at that. “Yeah, I guess so.”
After all, of the two of them, Reki’s always been the one with words.
•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•
He taps out a message to Reki later that evening, once he’s settled in his room for the night.
>> I talked to my mom.
As always, Reki is quick to respond.
>> and?????
Langa huffs a laugh. Even over text, Reki’s enthusiasm is palpable.
>> It went well.
>> !!!
>> langa!!!
>> So what now? You ask your coach?
>> yup! we can even go tmrw if u want!!!
>> Okay
>> And you’re sure you’ll be able to convince him?
>> not to worry! i have my ways ;)
•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•
“We’re begging you!”
Langa’s not sure what he was expecting when Reki said he had a plan, but he wasn’t exactly expecting to resort to begging right off the bat. He lifts his head up slightly to gauge Reki’s coach’s reaction, but Reki quickly grabs his head and forces him back into a low bow.
“Ehhh…” Reki’s coach sounds bemused, though Langa can’t be certain since the only things in his field of vision are the floor and his shoes and that doesn’t seem like it’s going to change anytime soon.
“Please!” Reki adds on, still not removing his hand from Langa’s head.
Langa realizes that he should probably say something too, considering he is the topic of this discussion. “Uh, please?” He pauses before tacking on a “Sir?” for good measure.
“No need for the formalities,” Reki’s coach says, sounding amused. “Relax. And Reki, let the boy stand up straight, you don’t want him to get stuck like that.” Reki huffs, but releases Langa’s head. Langa straightens up immediately, discreetly stretching his back out.
“So, Hasegawa Langa, we meet at last. I’m Oka Shokichi, Reki’s coach,” Oka says, extending a hand out to him. Langa shakes it, caught off guard by the strength of his grip. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Reki,” he continues, a sharp grin taking over his face. “In fact, I feel like I practically know you already!”
Langa sees Reki tense slightly next to him, and he can’t help the smirk that pulls at his lips. “All good things, I hope?”
Oka laughs at that. “Of course, of course! I don’t think he could say a single bad thing about you if he tried!”
“Coach!” Reki exclaims, affronted. His face is bright red.
Oka smirks before directing his full attention to Langa. “Langa-kun, I would be more than thrilled to work with you. Unfortunately, it’s not entirely my call to make. There is a process we need to follow, after all.”
“Ah, yeah,” Langa pulls a slip of paper out of his pocket and hands it to Oka. “My mom wanted me to give you her contact information so you could get in touch with her.”
“Well, aren't you prepared?” Oka takes the paper before reaching out to clap him on the shoulder. The gesture reminds him a little bit of Reki. “That will make things easier, then. I’ll talk to the director, though it’s more of a formality than anything. Given your competitive history, I don’t see any reason why they wouldn’t want to have you here.” Langa flushes slightly at that last comment as Reki nudges him with his elbow, grinning.
“I’ll be in contact with your mother,” Oka continues. “I’ll send some forms that you’ll need to complete, but then after that…” he grins. “Well. Let’s just say I suppose we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.”
Langa turns to Reki and they share an excited look before he turns back to bow at Oka again. “Thank you so much!”
Reki nudges Langa with his shoulder as they walk out of the rink. Laughing, Langa nudges him back.
•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•
As usual, they find themselves back at the rink later that evening, still riding the high of the day’s excitement. Langa throws himself into practice with a renewed eagerness, while Reki runs through some choreography. They glide around each other with ease, a dance they’ve long since perfected. Eventually, Reki settles atop the boards so he can record Langa’s jumps.
It seems that landing that first triple flipped a switch for Langa. The seed that had been planted the first night he stepped back on the ice has continued to grow with every little success, and now it’s blossoming right before Reki’s eyes as Langa continues to get better and better. It’s nice, seeing him so excited to be out there, seeing him look so happy.
Langa goes in for another triple and Reki can tell immediately that it’s going to be a good one. He’s going to fly, Reki thinks to himself.
Sure enough, Langa lands the jump flawlessly, light and effortless. Reki cheers from where he’s sitting on the boards, and Langa skates over to him with windswept hair and a wide grin on his face. Reki can’t help but think that it’s a little unfair, how good Langa looks even after all that jumping. Reki can’t pull off the “post-training mess” look nearly as well.
“I’ve missed this,” Langa says as he hoists himself up onto the boards beside Reki.
Reki smiles, lightly cuffing Langa’s arm before letting his hand settle back in his lap. “You look amazing out there, dude.” Langa rolls his eyes, but a crooked grin settles on his face nonetheless.
“You’d probably say that even if I were still sliding across the ice on my face.”
Reki feigns offense, giving an exaggerated gasp. “Langa! How could you say that?” He puts a hand on his chest. “You should know that my compliments come from deep in my heart! Although,” he smirks, “it was pretty amazing watching you eat the ice every time you so much as turned the wrong way.”
Langa elbows him, eliciting a yelp. “For you, maybe.”
Reki chuckles. “Ya got me there.”
They fall into a companionable silence, content to sit side by side on the boards, listening to the hum of the ventilation system. Reki kicks his legs as they dangle above the ice. Beside him, Langa looks relaxed. Open. Somewhere along the line, he got comfortable enough around Reki to let his guard down when it was just the two of them. The thought that he gets to see Langa like this makes something tighten in his chest.
I’ve missed this, Langa had said, so earnestly. It was the most vulnerable Reki had seen him since the first night Langa had stepped back on the ice. He’s caught glimpses of this, fleeting moments of vulnerability before Langa quickly reigned it in and schooled his expression back into one of neutrality.
A question rises up to the surface, one Reki’s been pushing down for a long time. He’s never been able to find the right moment to ask; he didn’t want to risk making things awkward, to risk Langa withdrawing and never coming back out. But now, he wonders if Langa would feel comfortable enough, if he trusts Reki enough to answer.
Casting another glance at Langa, he decides to push his luck.
“Hey, Langa…” he starts hesitantly. Langa turns his head towards him curiously, and Reki swallows before continuing. “I’ve been wondering, and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but…” He takes a deep breath. “Why did you stop skating?”
Langa’s expression immediately darkens. His shoulders tense up, and his hands grip the boards so tightly that his knuckles turn white. Suddenly, the inches between them feel like they stretch on for miles and for a moment, Reki wonders if he should never have said anything at all.
Before he can take the question back, though, Langa speaks.
“You’ve… probably heard about the accident, right?” His voice comes out strained, and he stares resolutely at the wall on the opposite end of the arena.
“Yeah, a little bit,” Reki confirms. “There wasn’t a lot of information about it though.”
“I see…” Langa looks down, his arms coming up to wrap around himself, as though it could shield him from the painful memories. He doesn’t speak for a while, and Reki wonders if he’d made a mistake by pushing the subject.
“Langa, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he says softly, trying to sound as reassuring as possible. The last thing he wants to do is make Langa uncomfortable. If he’s not ready to talk about it, then Reki is willing to wait as long as he needs to.
“No, I do, it’s just. It’s hard. To talk about,” Langa stumbles over his words, as he tends to when he gets worked up. “I haven’t really talked to anyone about it since… well, since it happened.” He curls in on himself a little, and in this moment he seems so small. It makes Reki want to wrap him up in his arms and shield him away from the world, from everything that’s ever hurt him.
But he knows he can’t do that, and he knows Langa’s more than strong enough to face whatever else life might throw at him. So, he settles for scooting closer until their thighs are touching and, when Langa doesn’t move away, he wraps an arm around him and squeezes his side in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. He can’t stop the world from hurting Langa, but maybe he can be there for him to soften the blow, to help patch him back together in the aftermath.
Langa leans into him a little bit and Reki lets out a silent breath of relief. After another moment, Langa begins to speak again.
“We were driving back after a late session. I’d wanted to stay a bit later to brush up on some choreography.” He takes a deep, shaky breath. “A driver ran a red light as we were passing through an intersection and, well,” he laughs, but there’s no humour in it. It’s a hollow, bitter sound, and Reki never wants to hear Langa sound like that again. “Rammed right into the drivers’ side. My dad was killed on impact.”
“Shit,” Reki breathes, horrified. “Langa, I’m so sorry.” He knows those words aren’t enough, will never be enough to ease the pain Langa must have experienced, the pain he must still be experiencing as he relives those memories, but in this moment it’s all he can offer.
Langa nods once, stiffly. “I was lucky,” he continues, his voice sounding distant, as though he truly was trapped in the past, somewhere far away. “At least, that’s what everybody told me. Concussion, a few cracked ribs and fractured bones, bruises everywhere… it wasn’t great, but it could’ve been a whole lot worse. I could’ve been permanently disabled.” His arms tighten around himself. “I could’ve died.”
The last statement, though spoken quietly, rings out in the empty arena. Reki suppresses a shudder at the thought.
“I was told—” Langa’s voice cracks, and he clears his throat before starting again. “I was told that I should be grateful.” He scoffs. “Grateful for what? My dad getting killed while I essentially got out unscathed? When it was my fault we were out so late in the first place?”
“Langa, none of that was your fault—”
“I know!” Langa yells, and Reki flinches in surprise. Langa seems equally shocked by his outburst, eyes wide, something wild and slightly terrified lurking just beneath the surface, but he quickly schools his expression to something a little more contained. “Sorry,” he’s quick to say, voice shaky but much quieter. “I know. That driver was the one to blame, not me. But still, it’s… hard, sometimes. To believe it.”
“Langa…”
“It’s—” fine, he was probably going to say, but he cuts himself off with a frustrated sigh. Reki knows well enough that it’s not fine, and Langa probably realizes he would’ve seen through it. Instead, he pushes forward. “I really wasn’t off the ice for too long. A couple months for my bones to heal, nothing serious. But when they cleared me to skate again, I didn’t feel anything.” He lifts a hand up to grip at his chest. “I should’ve been excited, right? But I wasn’t.
“Everyone figured it was the grief. Of course my emotions would be all over the place since my father had passed. But the thing is… I didn’t feel anything at all. It’s like I wasn’t really all there. Honestly, that point in my life feels like a blur,” Langa admits. “Everyone kept saying that I’d feel better once I got on the ice but I just… I didn’t care. I didn’t have any desire to skate, or do much of anything. Still, I did it because they told me to. Because that was what everybody expected of me. I stepped on the ice and I—” his breath hitches, and Reki unconsciously pulls him in closer.
“I felt nothing.” The confession is quiet, barely audible even though Reki is sitting right next to him. “I’d lost the ability to feel anything. To love anything. I was just… numb. All the joy I felt while skating was gone.”
Reki remains silent, for once unsure of what to say. He couldn’t possibly imagine going through what Langa’s been through, and he doesn’t want to say anything that could come across as insensitive. He squeezes Langa’s side again; an encouragement, an affirmation. I’m here. I’m listening.
“Some people said I wasn’t trying hard enough,” Langa continues, voice quavering. Reki can feel him trembling. “That I just had to keep pushing through. But I did try! I tried so hard, Reki! And it wasn’t—” his breath catches on a sob. “It wasn’t enough! I wanted to love skating again more than anything, if not for myself then at least for all the people that were counting on me! But I couldn’t stand being out there! I didn’t want to try anymore!” His voice breaks off at the end, an anguished sob spilling out of him.
Reki reaches out with his other arm to pull Langa fully into an embrace. It’s a little awkward, given their position on top of the boards, but Langa goes willingly, clinging to the front of Reki’s shirt and burying his face in his chest as he cries. Reki rubs circles into Langa’s back with one hand, bringing the other up to card through his hair in what he hopes is a soothing manner.
He’s not sure how long they stay like that, only aware of how he can feel the tremors wracking Langa’s body with every heaving breath he takes as two years’ worth of emotions spill out of him. Eventually, Langa’s breathing begins to even out a bit, and he slumps a little more heavily against Reki, as though that outburst had taken everything out of him.
“‘m sorry,” he mumbles into Reki’s shirt. Reki is quick to reassure him.
“Hey, hey, Langa, you have nothing to apologize for, y’hear me? Nothing.” He feels Langa nod against him and pats him on the back. They stay there in silence for a moment longer before Langa speaks again.
“I never went back,” he mutters, tightening his grip on Reki's shirt. “After that day. I couldn’t stand the thought of going back out there. Alone.”
Reki doesn’t say anything, just continues to run his fingers through Langa’s hair, giving him time to collect himself.
“My mom… she was worried, obviously, but I could tell she was sad too, that I didn’t want to go back on the ice. It was like a second loss for both of us,” his breath hitches, and he takes a couple of deep, shaky breaths before continuing. “I guess it seemed like I was cutting myself off from one of the few things we had left of my dad.”
“You never let go, though,” Reki whispers, feeling as though anything louder would shatter the quiet atmosphere that’s settled over them. Langa pulls back a little bit, just enough to give Reki a questioning look. “I mean, you kept up your physical conditioning, you still stretched regularly… you’re in great shape,” and here, he trails his hands over to Langa’s biceps, giving them a little squeeze for emphasis. Langa manages to huff a weak laugh at that.
“You might have a point there. I thought I was walking away from skating, but I guess there was a part of me that could never fully let go of it,” Langa admits, letting his forehead fall back onto Reki’s chest. “Running, physical conditioning… that was the only thing that actually made me feel. I spent so much time feeling numb, I guess it was like…” he trails off, considering his next words. “It reminded me that I was still alive. That I could still feel something, even if it wasn’t the same as what I felt while skating.”
“Well, now all that work you’ve done is paying off, huh?” Reki says, patting his arm. “It definitely makes your return to training seriously a hell of a lot easier.”
“Mm, you’re right. I probably wouldn’t have made it more than half a lap before collapsing otherwise.”
Reki can’t help the snort that escapes him at the comment. “Oh come on, I’m sure it wouldn’t have been that bad.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. I was convinced my legs were going to fall off after that first week.”
“Yeah, well,” Reki wracks his brain for a comeback and, coming up short, decides to go with his next-best tactic: diverting the subject. “Whatever! In any case, you stayed in shape and now it’s paying off. That’s all there is to it.”
Langa hums in response, and they fall into a comfortable silence. Reki can feel Langa’s breathing sync up with his own as they sit, still leaning against each other. He’s not sure how many minutes pass like this, but he finds that it doesn’t really matter. If it’ll make Langa feel better, then he’s willing to stay there as long as he needs him to.
“Y’know, my mom…” Langa speaks up after a moment, lifting his head just enough that he can meet Reki’s gaze. His eyes are slightly puffy and red-rimmed, and tear tracks stain his cheeks, but there’s the faintest hint of a smile on his face. “She was really happy when I said that I was going to try skating again. I suppose I have you to thank for that, Reki.”
“Huh?” Reki’s not quite sure where that came from, but he doesn’t see how he had anything to do with that. “Me? I don’t—” he starts to protest but Langa doesn’t let him finish.
“I wouldn’t be here right now if I hadn’t met you. For the first time in years, I know what I want. So, thank you.”
Reki can feel his face heating up. “It’s nothing, really,” he mutters, embarrassed.
“Maybe to you,” Langa says, and his expression softens. Reki’s heart aches at how grateful he looks, at how fond he looks. “But it’s everything to me.”
Langa finally lets go of Reki’s shirt in favour of wrapping his arms properly around Reki’s middle. Reki returns the embrace, arms sliding down to wrap around Langa’s waist, pulling him closer. Langa buries his face in the crook of Reki’s neck, and Reki can feel his lips move against his skin when he speaks again:
“Thank you, Reki, for being here.”
Reki just holds him a little bit tighter.