Chapter Text
Langa dove both hands into his white dresser, the top drawer only coming up to his armpits. He let in a quick thought on how the dresser had seemed so big when he was a kid. He could even remember the faint scent of the white paint that used to make his clothes reek of the organic compounds in the paint. He would always be so mad about it. Of course the smell had drifted a long time ago, as the paint was now chipping off, dropping to the ground like flakes of snow, each one contributing to the slow transformation of the floor to a pasty white.
He had grown quite a bit since he first got it. He ran his hands through the unfolded mess of clothes, desperately trying to find anything, literally anything, that would go with his blue jeans. Hands pulled out bundles of ocean blues and boring greys, all of which were either chucked to the side of Langa’s bed or mercilessly thrown back into the dresser. He was known for being indecisive, but today was the worst he’s ever been. He would pull out a shirt, hold it up to him, trying to imagine how it would look on his pale body, and shake his head, loosely throwing it back into the drawer. He wanted to look his best today.
It was an important day after all. His mom finally gave him permission to go outside. Not just go outside, but go out and eat lunch and talk with his mom. She rarely had the time to spend a whole day with Langa. Granted, she always found time to talk to him at least once a day. He truly appreciated her dedication to their time together, but he still saw days like today as a very special occasion.
He tried to hide it, but he was excited. Langa set his alarm four hours earlier than he really needed to. He had suspicions his clothing fiasco would occur, and to his utter expectations, it did. He eventually pulled out a long sleeved white button-up and found a black turtleneck. He swiveled on his heel in order to examine the state of his room, only to be faced with clothes littered on the floor like trash at an amusement park. He sneered at the site, just imagining what Hiromi and the maids would think if they saw it.
He shook his head, his blue hair falling softly in front of his eyes, and chose to simply leave it how it was until he got back. He was too excited to clean. He slipped on the turtleneck first. The neck became undone as he pulled it over his head, as it nearly came up to his chin. He fumbled with the rim of it for a quick second before folding it back down, adjusting it so the fold was even all the way around his neck.He then threw the unbuttoned white top over him, his arms easily flowing through the sleeves, the fabric soft, yet extremely wrinkled. He wiped his hands up and down the sleeves, trying to at least make it seem like the shirt had not been bunched up in a drawer for weeks.
Langa grabbed the collar, trying his best to flatten it as well, before giving up and letting his hands drop from the collar with a defeated sigh. He rolled up the sleeves with utmost care before standing in front of his mirror. He let himself breathe out, unaware he was holding his breath, and let his eyes fall up and down his body, noting any dirt on his jeans or a stray hair on his head. He looked away before he spent another hour on his outfit. He didn’t have time. He was ready to go.
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Langa’s light blue sneakers were a color so close to the color of his hair that he didn’t think he’d gone one day wearing them without someone commenting something about it. Of course he was aware of the similarity. He just didn’t understand what was so striking about it. His hair and his shoes were the same color. So what? Don’t get it wrong, though, he really did like his shoes. He faintly remembered getting them. Going out with his mom. He was probably around the age of 13. It was only four years ago, but now, looking back on it, it felt like a hundred years. So much has happened since then.
He remembers walking into the store. The striking smell of flowers, possibly rose. It was so overwhelming it made Langa stagger backwards and scrunch his nose up. The sick dizzy feeling of sensory overload. He hated that feeling. He remembers hearing laughter behind him. A bubbly, soft laugh that made anyone who heard it smile unconditionally. His mother’s, probably. He really liked her laugh. And another laugh, almost echoing his mother’s. A deeper, more grounded laugh. It sounded hearty and confident, but completely genuine. A real, happy laugh.
He remembers turning around, the sound of that deep, happy laugh beckoning Langa in like a siren. He looked at the floor for a moment, letting his senses adjust to the sudden overload of the artificial flowery scent, then looked up.
A man stood, almost towering above him like a Greek god. He had blue eyes, even brighter than Langa’s, shining somehow in the dim light of the shop. He remembered those blue eyes so well. The ones he saw before he went to bed. The ones he saw at the top of the mountain. The ones he heard his mother whisper in more recent nights when she was asleep.
He had a smile on his face. Such a big smile. Such a loving, empathetic smile that seemed to encase any living being in its radius into a completely different world. Slivers of light brown hair danced on the man’s head, bouncing up and down every time he took a breath.
“The smell is a bit much, isn’t it?” Langa heard him say, the man’s voice a bit distorted. He wished so bad he remembered exactly how the man sounded. He remembers nodding.
“Let’s find this little guy some shoes, Oliver,” Langa heard the other voice say. He recognized the familiarity of this voice and turned his head to face his mom, who’s hand snaked its way over, looping through Oliver’s right arm.
Langa looked at the endless rack of shoes. So many different colors…..how could he ever choose? A large hand hovered above him before grabbing a shoe just out of Langa's eyesight.
The hand brought it down for him. It was a high top converse. The rim being the signature white, while the main body was a lighter blue, its color making Langa’s surroundings seem dull and grey. He twisted his face in indecisiveness. He didn’t really know how to feel about the shoe.
“Aw come on, don’t tell me you don’t like it!” he heard the booming sound of Oliver from behind him.
“There’s no way you can’t like it! It’s the exact same color of the hairs on your head!”
Oliver put his hand on top of Langa’s scrunching his fingers and tilted Langa’s head to each side gently, referencing the shoe and his hair’s similarity. Langa remembered not being able to stop himself from smiling. He grabbed the shoes from the bigger hand in front of him, holding it close to his chest as if it were a baby kitten. He turned his head up to Oliver, his hand still on top of Langa’s head.
“I like this one, dad.”
Oliver smiled even wider.
“I knew it! I’m always right!”
This stifled a laugh from Langa. He couldn’t help but laugh at his father’s terrible jokes and awkward one liners. He heard his mother giggle as well, somewhere in the background of his memories. He looked at the shoe in his hand one more time. He really didn’t like the shoe. Well, he didn’t hate it either. But he wanted them more than he had ever wanted anything in his life. His dad just seemed so happy to see him like the blue shoe. How could he say no?
Langa let his head fall forward, his eyes resting on his shoes. They were not nearly as blue and striking as when he first got them. The white rims had been kicked around, resulting in a more dull and everlasting grey, black scuff marks decorating the tip and heel of the shoe. The blue had been worn out as well, the color fading ever so softly.
Why do I do this to myself? Langa thought, trying to giggle at the thought of his own foolishness, yet only a puff of the nose indicating his feelings. He looked back up to face what was in front of him. The door to the Hasegawa Estate Common Room was coming up, fast. He really didn’t realize how speedy his walking pace was until he heard the echoed screech of his shoes on the marbled floor as he came to a grinding halt, the tip of his nose mere inches away from the door.
He allowed himself a moment to bring himself back down to reality for the final time. He took in a big breath, his chest inflating, the white button up moving in-sync with his body, and quickly exhaled.
Today’s supposed to be fun, he thought, don’t get caught up in the past.
He placed his hand on the steel doorknob, the smooth, cold object sending an eerie chill up his spine. He twisted the doorknob slowly, pulling the door towards him as he heard the click.
Peering into the common room, he first laid his eyes on Cherry, who stood confidently, both arms crossed, as if cradling each other. His sword sat comfortably on his side, secured by a special belt built to hold swords on the side of pants without being painfully uncomfortable.
His hair had been put in a half-up-half-down style, shining strands of pink dancing gracefully on his forehead before dropping to his ears. As he shifted on his heel, his black-- no, extremely dark pink-- suit moved with him, a perfect fit on Cherry’s fit and able body.
The second person Langa saw was his mother. She stood, face turned away from Langa as she talked with Cherry. Langa noted first her long brown hair, and how meticulous his mother was about her hair.
She could spend hours making sure the texture and length would be to her liking. One time, Langa recalled, she went to a salon for a trim and came back, a nasty look on her face, saying they had cut it an inch too short. It was all she talked about for a week. It was also really the only thing Langa had ever seen her get fired up about. Her hair, of all things.
Langa also noticed his mother’s clothes. She had beige work pants on that complimented her long legs, with a white blouse tucked into the pants and a matching beige blazer on top. She sported a half-up-half-down hairstyle, very similar to that of Cherry’s. Langa found that quite humorous.
Langa realized he had probably been standing in the doorway for quite a few moments, and decided to step into the room completely. The attention was immediately turned towards him as Nanako and Cherry dropped their conversation and adjusted their position in order to focus on Langa.
“Good morning,” he said, not really wanting to interrupt their conversation, feeling slightly guilty about his presence. Nanako smiled softly, her eyes lighting up at the sight of her son. Cherry bowed politely, but came up quite fast, seemingly beckoned by a sudden thought.
“Good morning!” Both said in unison. Langa took long strides towards them, letting himself glide towards his mother’s side.
“My, what a cute little outfit today, hon!” Nanako chirped, her smile still unwavering. Langa smiled briskly in response. The way she said it made it seem as if she were making fun of him, but Langa knew that was just how his mom spoke. It was straightforward and slightly awkward, but always genuine.
“So, are you excited for a little day out today? Have any idea where you would want to go?’ Nanako asked, her hand raising up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear.
Langa thought for a moment. He tried to think of places they had passed last time they went out. Shops and restaurants blasting past him in unfamiliar blurs, the names just slightly unreadable. He thought harder. He tried slowing down his memories, letting the blurry imagery pass through his mind over and over.
One shop in particular stood out to him. It was a beige building resembling almost every building in the line of shops and restaurants, except the sign on the top was a bright pink, its illuminating color highlighting the dull look of the building itself. He could barely make out the name:
Sketch Coffee Shop.
It sounded interesting. Or fun. Langa liked it because it was, well, new. His mom had always taken him to the same place for lunch, a place called The Gecko Cafe. His disdain for it grew the more they went. It’s not like the food was bad, it was just that Langa had grown tired of the same songs and the same food and the same people. He wanted to go somewhere else.
Langa took a breath before speaking.
“I saw a cool coffee shop on the way to Gecko Cafe last time we went out. I was wondering if we could try it? It’s called Sketch Coffee Shop.” Langa raised his eyes to meet with Nanako’s.
Her face twisted in confusion and surprise, then shifted into uncertainty. She bit her lip, shifting her eyes around the room and crossing her arms, deep in thought.
“I don’t know, sweetie…..I’ve never been there before, and I don’t know anyone who has….” She trailed off, her eyes making their way back to Langa’s. Langa nodded, his eyes opening in wide suspense, refusing to let this die out. She sighed, seeing Langa’s expression, a smile creeping up on her face.
“Well…..I guess it would be nice to try a new place. I am getting a bit tired of the burgers at Gecko Cafe.”
Langa felt his eyes light up, his shoulders raising in excitement. Nanako giggled softly at Langa’s reaction.
“Thanks, mom,” he said as enthusiastically as he could.
Cherry stood a few feet away, watching this conversation go down, a frown slowly twisting up on his face.
“If I may,” he started, holding up a hand in between the mother and son, “as Langa’s personal bodyguard and servant under the Snow Mafia, I would like to accompany the both of you on your day out. Going somewhere new may sabotage your guarantee of safety. I would like for-”
He was cut off briskly by Nanako.
“- That’s quite alright, Cherry. While I appreciate the offer, I believe the leader of the Snow Mafia will be able to protect herself and her son against whatever threats we may face in a coffee shop,” Nanako said, holding her head high, her eyebrows furrowed in slight frustration.
Cherry let his hand fall back to his side, his eyes glancing off to his right, the sword shifting awkwardly on his side.
“As I am aware of your position, I would still-”
“Cherry,” Nanako interrupted once more, her voice lowered and much less bubbly than it was when speaking to Langa earlier, “do you remember who won last time we spared? I don’t have the best memory, but what I do remember is me sweeping your feet and you falling to the ground very clumsily.”
Cherry lowered his head further to the ground. He simply nodded. Nanako took this reaction as a success. She let the same bubbly, energetic smile overtake her darkened face.
“I’m perfectly capable, but I respect your concern, Cherry. Thank you, really. We’ll be on our way now. I will let you know when we plan to return.” Nanako grabbed Langa’s arm and turned both of them to the doors to lead to the outside.
“Of course, Nanako. I hope the both of you have…..a good time,” Cherry said, bowing politely before raising his head to finally watch the both of them exit the estate. He opened his mouth, words on his tongue that would never escape his lips, then closed them before turning on his heel and walking back towards the long halls of the estates.
Nanako hugged Langa’s arm closer, her smile warm and bright. As the doors opened, the hot air blew into Langa’s face faster than he could process his surroundings. It was extremely bright, the sun beating down on the earth mercilessly. The shrubbery surrounding the estate was a bright green, the edges kept perfectly trimmed. The sky was a striking blue, puffy white clouds floating freely in the air that Langa could only think of cotton candy when viewing them. The black car parked at the front of the estate was a bit of an eyesore, Langa thought, compared to the colorful imagery surrounding him.
“So,” Nanako asks, bringing Langa back from the trance the surroundings had put him in, “how is life in the estate as of recently?”
The doors to the car opened, revealing matching black seats and a thin shelf of quality alcohol sitting comfortably by the window. Langa took a deep breath, the hot air stinging his nostrils.
“It’s good, mom,” he answered truthfully.
He couldn’t hide it, he was excited about today. He filed in the car, followed by his mom. After the door closed, the car began moving, the familiar green hedges and concrete blocks of the Hasegawa Estate moving slowly from Langa’s view, an odd feeling bubbling within him.
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The smell was overwhelming at first. Langa couldn’t help but flutter his eyes at the swirl of smells. The strong scent of freshly-ground coffee paired perfectly with the hints of vanilla and caramel made Langa feel warm inside. He couldn’t hold back a small grin from forming on his face. His mother led them to the cash register, her heels clicking against the vintage wooden panels.
“Good morning!” Nanako chirped.
The cashier smiled.
“‘Morning! What can I get for you today?”
Nanako glanced up at the chalkboard menu for a moment before deciding.
“Can I get a caramel macchiato with a shot of hazelnut?”
The cashier nodded and yelled out to the other employees the order. They then turned back around to face the mother and son.
“Anything else for you?” The cashier asked happily. Nanako whipped her head around to face Langa, who’s attention had been diverted to the sights and smells of a whole new place.
“Langa,” Nanako said softly, “what would you like to drink?”
Langa eyed the board of drinks for a quick second, before deciding that he already really knew what he wanted.
“Just a small black coffee, please,” he said quietly. Nanako turned her head back around to face the cashier.
“And a small black coffee. That’ll be all,” Nanako echoed.
They grabbed their drinks and exchanged a quick smile with the barista before finding a two-person table by a window. Nanako took a small sip of her coffee, closing her eyes and leaning back in the chair with a satisfied ‘mmmm’. Langa lifted the paper cup up to his lips, the small stream of heat like a blanket over his mouth. The smell of coffee grew much stronger as he held the cup closer to his nose. He took in a deep breath, letting the unique scent overtake his surroundings.
Both sat in coffee bliss for a few moments before regaining their senses. Nanako sat up, placing her coffee cup on the table and placing one of her hands on her arm. She turned her head slowly to get Langa into view. Langa was watching the window. Watching the outside as it moved by.
He looks so grown, Nanako thought.
“So,” she began, breaking the barrier of silence, “since when have you liked black coffee?”
A sly grin crept up on her face. Langa let his head fall towards his mom. He looked up for a moment and shrugged, as if in thought.
“I haven’t liked it that long, really. I just kinda got used to it since it’s the only thing Hiromi is willing to make after breakfast and before lunch,” he said monotonously.
Nanako nodded her head with a soft smile, tightening her grip on her coffee cup. She felt so disconnected from her son. Her own son. Their relationship had just been so different since…well since….
“Honey,” Nanako started hesitantly, “I’ve been noticing some, well, changes in your usual behavior…and I was wondering, if, well, maybe…” She just couldn’t find a way to put it. Nobody had told her how to talk about it to her son, or how to deal with it at all. She could feel a swelling in her stomach. She told herself she would be strong!
“Would it have to do with…him?” She could finally spill out. She felt like a weight had been lifted. Her face raised to meet a head of light blue hair. Langa’s eyes were glued to his coffee cup as if his soul were bound to it. Nanako could just see the minor twists in her son’s eyebrows and the frown on his lips. The same swelling feeling in her stomach immediately came back. She decided to back off. Nanako let out a defeated sigh and put on the softest smile she could muster.
“I’m sorry Langa, I shouldn’t have pushed this on you.”
Nanako could see Langa’s face soften and the grip on his cup loosen.
“How about you just tell me what you’ve done around the estate lately,” Nanako said so softly, one would assume Langa were glass. Langa’s lips twisted as his head rose to face his mother, trying to decide what to say.
“Nothing too interesting,” he began shyly, “I helped Marie and Yuna move a couch to the other side of the downstairs lounge a few days ago…”
Nanako sat up in her chair, a grin shooting up on her face, as if she had heard the most fantastic thing. Well, to her, it was. She was talking to her son.
“Wow! What else?” Nanako felt eager to learn more about her son’s mundane day-to-day activities. It made her feel important. It made her feel like a mom.
Langa chuckled softly at his mother’s enthusiasm.
“Well, then I helped Shadow water the plants in the courtyard. Oh, I also played chess against Cherry, and won.”
“Against Cherry?” Nanako exclaimed in disbelief. Langa nodded with a small grin.
“Why, my son’s a genius!” Nanako belted, loud enough for the people sitting at the table next to them to turn around and give them a dirty look.
The two talked for hours, about life in the Estate, and the chores of their respective titles. They sat there, mother and son, talking about their lives and experiences, trying their hardest to avoid the talk of the man they both equally loved. The sun began to set, sending waves of burnt oranges and streams of yellow and pink into the infinite sky. The coffee shop smelled of fresh-ground coffee beans and a sense of comfort that wrapped around the pair like a blanket. Langa twirled his finger around his now empty cup of black coffee, gazing out the window at the on-going cars.
Nanako took one last sip of her drink and set it down quietly on the table, watching her son intently. Their conversation had ceased. There was only so much to talk about between them. The only thing that filled the silence was the sound of milk being steamed and the occasional clink of a cup against a plate. Nanako felt compelled to strike up another conversation with Langa. She couldn’t just let it die out like this. She tapped her fingers one by one on the table before speaking up.
“So, I have this super big meeting coming up for work. It’s like, the most important one ever.”
Langa’s eyes darted to Nanako. He sat up straight and let his arm rest beside the cup.
“A meeting? What’s it about?” He asked, a hint of intrigue sparkling in his eyes. Nanako nodded.
“It’s a meeting to discuss an alliance between our mafia, the Snow Mafia, and another powerful mafia, the Infinite Mafia.” Nanako stated matter-of-factly, crossing her arms. Langa’s attempt to hide his interest fell as he sat up to get closer to his mom.
“An alliance? That’s interesting. Do you know who the leader of the Infinite Mafia is?”
Nanako shrugged.
“Nobody outside of the Infinite Mafia knows who he is. He’s known only as ‘The Fire King’ outside of his organization.”
The Fire King, Langa thought, the words sending a chill down his spine.
“So we really don’t know anything about him?” Langa asked, his leg beginning to bounce out of excitement.
Nanako furrowed her eyebrows and twisted her lips in thought.
“Well,” she started, “I’ve heard rumors that he’s pretty young. I want to say around your age.”
Langa’s heart felt like it had exploded. A ruthless, deadly killer…at the ripe age of 17? It nearly made him sick to his stomach. He couldn’t believe it.
“Oh,” Nanako said, knocking Langa out of his head, “the meeting will take place in two days in a location undisclosed to neither me nor The Fire King, and…well I want you to accompany me.”
Langa couldn’t help but let his mouth open. He simply didn’t know what to say. First his mom had actually talked about her work, and she was asking him to join her? This was moving a little too fast for Langa’s brain.
Nanako giggled at Langa’s absent expression.
“What do you think?”
Langa could barely feel his lips moving.
“Why me?”
Nanako smiled sweetly.
“My job as a mother is, always, to protect you,” she started firmly, but nicely, “but you’re growing up, and I know that without teaching you at least, well, something about the family business, I can’t always protect you. It’s about time you learn about my work. It will be yours someday anyways. This meeting is a good way to- well as some would put it- break out of your shell.”
Langa’s mouth was back to gaping open. His eyes shifted between his mom and the window he had been so intent on watching ever since they sat down so many hours ago.
This isn’t…I’m definitely not dreaming right? Yea, Langa thought, his mind scattered.
“Langa?” His mom met her eyes with his, her tone indicating she was waiting on a response. A few more moments fell silent before Langa could finally find his breath.
“Well, what do I wear?”