Chapter Text
Lately, Reki had been feeling like— well, like he needed some sort of medical attention.
At first, he thought it might’ve been due to stress, seeing as he’d been under what he deemed too much pressure from his mom for his grades, but then he realized he wasn’t actually all that worried about them. Reki wasn’t intricate, or deep, or much of anything, really (besides ‘annoying’ and ‘obnoxious’ like his classmates assured him). There were usually only two things on his mind; his skateboard, and Langa.
“Dude, it’s gotta be arrhythmia or whatever doctors call it, ya know? The thing where your heartbeat isn’t normal. It’s— I don’t know— it feels gross,” Reki paused. “Oh! Oh! Maybe it’s just the adrenaline! Yeah. Maybe I’m just too hyper.”
Reki knew, deep down, it wasn’t just the adrenaline. He feels the adrenaline coursing through him when he’s skating down a really steep hill, probably too steep, or when he’s with Langa, running, practically flying, to the lunch line. It wasn’t— this. It felt like his heart was practically suffocating him from the inside out, and he just couldn’t figure out what his damn problem was.
“You’re not that hyper,” Langa replied. “Maybe you’ve just been babysitting your sisters too much and it’s stressing you out?” Yeah, sure, that sounds accurate.
“I’m way too young to get stressed out by little kids! There is no way I’m getting gray hair already!”
Langa hesitated, not in a you’re dumb for complaining about this way but it was like he was really trying to unravel Reki’s brain, trying to find the needle in the haystack for him, and Reki could see the cogs turning. He always tried to do that, because maybe no one else ever did.
Reki looked down at his bright phone screen, because of course Langa and him lost track of time again, to a text from his mom that read It’s almost eight and your sisters are hungry. Wrap it up, hon. The sun had already set? Reki could feel the halfpipe getting cold under his bandaid-infested hands, and he felt the freeze of the metal touching his dangling legs. He looked up at Langa.
He couldn’t look away, though, not until he heard the revving of a nearby engine that forced him back to reality.
He felt it again. The heart thing.
When Reki got back home, it was bustling with hey, give that back! and it was mine first! , which filled him with a sense of familiarity that was as comforting as it was irritating. He put his skateboard away, marched his way through the front hall, and sat down at the dinner table, where he was met with that specific type of mom small talk.
“So? How was your day, Reki?” She asked.
“It was okay, I guess. I think I probably flunked that math quiz, but in my defense, it was stuff that I swear we never learned!” Reki replied, confidently. Or maybe he was just bad at math.
“Or maybe you just suck at math” one of his sisters followed, laughing and sticking her tongue out at him, playfully.
“Remember what we said about that word?” His mom replied, like a warning, but they could all tell she was suppressing a laugh, too.
“ Okayyyy, fine. I’m sorry” she said, begrudgingly. There was a brief pause where their mom was wrapping up her thoughts, and then she started speaking.
“ Anyway, I wanted to let you know that me and your sisters are going to be out tomorrow. They’ve been wanting to see a new movie in theaters, and they did all of their chores, so I said yes. If you want to, you can have Langa over, but no parties, got it?”
“Pfft. I don’t think anyone would wanna come even if I did have one.” Reki thought about that for a second; he wouldn’t want to do that anyway, when only Langa would show up with those eyes that said I’m sorry, Reki, but it’s okay because we can just watch movies and you can work on my skateboard. Reki found himself getting lost in that thought, imagining scenario after scenario of just him and Langa hanging out until they’d fallen asleep with heads on each others’ shoulders, and Reki would wake up in the middle of the night to Langa, just Langa, and he’d stare at him, his chest moving up and down when he breathed, the dim light from the moon making him look even prettier, maybe even his mouth, God, his mouth, open and drooling, and okay. He was starting to feel it again. His leg was bouncing under the table, beaming with that warm energy, and he didn’t know where it came from.
He could feel his heart starting to do that thing again, and it felt weird again, and unmistakable again. Why couldn’t he get a hold of himself and figure this out?
Why does my heartbeat feel weird and off? Reki typed into the google search bar. Seriously, he just wanted answers, because it was starting to get distracting. There would be times when he’d be sitting in class, doodling, and suddenly he could just feel his heart beating confusingly fast, and he’d have to set the pencil down because he could feel it in his fingertips, too. “Hey, Langa, dude,” he whispered, “do you ever feel your heartbeat in your fingers? ‘Cuz this is seriously making me nauseous.” Of course, Langa had said no, maybe you should go to the nurse? Do you want me to get the teacher? And Reki would be forced to say no, no, man, never mind, don’t worry about it.
It was hard, not hyperfixating on that type of thing. Yeah, heart attacks only really happen to senior citizens, but why risk it?
The articles Reki found about heartbeat and heart rate and all of that nauseating stuff just led him straight back to what he had thought before. Increased, erratic heartbeat? Don’t sweat it! You’re just overly stressed!
“ Overly stressed, my ass,” Reki muttered.
Reki decided that if he wasn’t going to find any answers online, maybe he really should ask the nurse, but then Langa would start to worry, and he didn’t want that, he didn’t— he didn’t want that. Langa had done enough for him as-is, and Reki had taught him how to skateboard, so they should be good, right? They were even? Reki couldn’t shake the feeling now, and it stuck. He didn’t feel like it was fair for Langa to worry about him when Langa did, like, everything else for him. He would be with Langa when they weren’t at school, and even when they were, Langa always found a way to talk to Reki. He’d have him over at his apartment when the noisy atmosphere of his own home started to drive him crazy, and feed him dinner, and let him sleepover, hell, even Langa’s mom did that for him. So yeah, nevermind, and he continued doomscrolling through a mass of articles that were telling him the wrong thing.
Reki could feel himself dozing off; he got up from his bed, went to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, changed, and threw himself back onto his bed. He checked his phone one last time, (as if he was waiting for something), and yes, he had two unopened messages from Langa.
Goodnight
Wait we’re going to S tomorrow right
Oh, shit, Reki had forgotten about S. He had been preoccupied with his stupid, stupid heart and Langa had texted him goodnight and I don’t think I can go to bed now I have too much energy and can I please call you because you know the heartbeat thing I was telling you about? Yeah it’s back and I don’t know what to do with myself and yes we’re going to S and then you’ll come over and we can—
Okay! Okay. That’s— that’s enough of that, Reki thought to himself, so he just texted back a goodnight and yes :) and left it at that. He placed his hand on his chest and he could actually feel his heart, like it was trying its best to keep up with his racing thoughts, so he was going to will himself to sleep.
Well, at least as much as he could without thinking about his heart or Langa or whatever else there was up there.
It was tough, because Langa knew Reki in and out, like the back of his hand, and now, there was never a hi, Reki! because it was always hey Reki! Hey Langa! , and now he had his mom automatically assuming he’d want Langa over tomorrow— and he did, but was he seriously always with Langa? But that was fine, right? Unless Langa had started to get sick of him, because his friends always do, because he’s too much for them. He found himself spiraling again and then telling himself to cut it out from now on, but he forgot all about it in the morning when his brain was stuffed full of dreams about—
Okay. Okay. He needed to stop doing that, because if Reki accidentally let it slip that he’d been having Langa-filled dreams, then that would probably be the end of their friendship. He wouldn’t get to really talk anymore, he guessed, and he really didn’t want to go back to that.
The next morning, Reki was tired. Really tired. He was groggy and exhausted, but still somehow had the energy of an olympic athlete; he was going to see Langa. They saw each other pretty much everyday, but he didn’t want to think about how that was usually what got him going, because no, that’s weird, and he moved on. It was a Saturday, a sunny, hot, and stereotypical Saturday morning in Okinawa, which was good. A constant. Reki sighed and pulled himself out of bed limb-by-limb, and went to the bathroom. He checked the time, nine o’clock, and his family was already gone. He assumed that his mom had taken this as an excuse to pamper them with a girls day or whatever, so that meant they’d be out until at least seven. Yeah, that seems right. He hoped he could sneak out and go to S without causing an issue, but it’s not like he’d ever been caught before.
He loved S. It gave him a rush that nothing had ever given him before; just watching some of the races was enough to fill him to the brim with adrenaline, and he enjoyed getting caught up in it. Ever since Langa had started coming along with him, it only got better. Langa balanced his adrenaline, keeping him grounded, which might be why they got along so well in the first place. Langa was just awesome, right? And now he actually had someone to talk to, he didn’t have to let all of his thoughts bubble up inside of him until he exploded at the wrong person and the wrong time. It was great.
There was something else, though. Reki and Langa had made it sort of an unspoken tradition to sleep over at each others places after S; it was like they couldn’t get enough of it all. Strangely enough, if Reki thought about it, this was his pinpoint on where his— his weird heart thing had begun.
The first time Reki had slept over at Langa’s apartment, it was normal; Langa slept on the floor, because he was just a nice guy, and Reki took the bed, but it was less of a sleepover and more of a I’m just staying at your apartment for the night and staring at you when you’re sleeping and not in a creepy way, but that definitely sounded creepy and oh god what is wrong with me and Reki had to splash some cold water on his face to stop himself from rambling. He looked at himself in the mirror and convinced himself that the redness was the sudden shock of the cold water.
There was seriously no reason why his heart should be out of control right now, though, and it was starting to concern him. It was a Saturday morning, and he had the day off and he was going to hang out with Langa and go to S and Langa was going to sleep over and it was going to be a good day. Yeah, there was nothing abnormal about it; he was excited, for god’s sake. He made a mental note to ask someone, maybe his mom, maybe even his boss, he didn’t know, just someone he could trust.
He opened his phone to a few new messages from overnight. And they were all from Langa. God, not even Miya? He felt a little hurt, but at the same time, at least there was Langa.
The messages were pretty dull. Langa sent him an Instagram reel with the message This reminded me of you just wait for it and a confirmation that Langa was staying at Reki’s house tonight. It was good. Life was good right now, but he didn’t want to jinx it, because he was probably going to have a heart attack soon.
On the ride back home, they could both still feel the electricity whirring through them; it was such a blinding feeling, that when Reki wasn’t paying attention, he slammed face-first into a pole. Or was it a wall? He couldn’t remember. He just knew there was some sort of collision, and his head was throbbing, a mixture of adrenaline and excitement that subdued the pain for a little while.
“ Yeah, that’s definitely going to leave a bruise,” Langa said, hesitantly reaching up for Reki’s forehead, eyes glued to the injury. “Do you want me to find some painkillers?”
“Nah, I’ll be fine, I think, just need to sleep it off.”
Langa didn’t seem fully convinced, that look on his face that meant I just saw you smash into a pole at 15 miles per hour and I know it hurts, so Reki repeated himself, embarrassed. “Dude, I promise, I have a good pain tolerance, remember? ‘S nothing that hasn’t happened before.” Langa continued analyzing the patch of scabbed-over skin, right above Reki’s eyebrow, and rested his thumb there, his other fingers coasting along his hairline. Reki glanced up hastily and found himself feeling fuzzy from the touch, because yeah, it was nice of Langa to care, and no one really touched him all that much, aside from Langa, and it usually wasn’t like this. Usually it was a fist-bump, or a shouldered half-hug, or Langa was putting bandaids on his hands, so carefully, and that was probably his favorite part about the touching. Yeah, it did hurt, having so many little bruises and scabs littering almost all of the surface area, but it was hard to focus on the pain when he was watching Langa, handling it so meticulously, his eyebrows furrowed, his nose scrunched, trying to place the sticky part in the right spot. He remembered one night, when the aching was especially bad, so much so that he kept wincing at the feeling. Langa had taken one of his hands and spread it out, kneading at his palm, and it hurt, yeah, but it was a good hurt. It was so good and Reki wanted to ask Langa if he could stay here and keep doing this until it was too late for you to go home and you can stay here and maybe I could keep watching you, please, and you could—
Reki shook his head abruptly, getting a confused look from Langa. He felt his face getting hot, and shamefully averted his eyes elsewhere. God, his daydreaming was starting to be a little too much, but he couldn’t control it, it just happened, and how could he not think about Langa? He was right there in front of him, worriedly awaiting any tell on his face, his hand lingering on Reki’s cheek before he stopped the touch completely. Reki bit the inside of his mouth and got up before— well, before. He couldn’t really place what he was about to think, and ruffled Langa’s hair before heading toward the bathroom.
He dutifully set his hands on either side of the sink. His heart was pounding ; it was weird, right? It was starting to make him dizzy, how much he could feel, and he didn’t know it was possible to have your heartbeat in your eyes. This couldn’t be normal, and Reki decided he was going to do something about it. He was going to ask his mom about it in the morning, after Langa left, and she would have the answer, she seems to know everything else. Slowly, he lifted his hands off of the counter and rubbed at his eyes until he saw stars.
From the hallway, Reki could hear the careful, echoey sound of Langa’s footsteps trailing behind him, knowing Langa was trying not to wake anyone up, probably wanting to brush his teeth too. Reki was done with all of his stuff, so he offered the bathroom to Langa, and then they were both ready for bed, sleepy and exhausted.
It was quiet; something Reki’s house barely ever was, and it was nice. His family had gotten home a couple hours ago, and thankfully his mom was too busy trying to get his sisters to go to sleep, so he and Langa didn’t get caught sneaking in. Reki liked nights, when the rest of the world was asleep, because he felt like he could finally breathe, no one telling him to shut up or stop talking, because Langa let him talk. He always let him talk, and Reki sure loved talking.
Reki looked down at his knuckles, bruised and still a bit red, and felt a ping in his chest. Not exactly that throb he kept feeling, but something warmer, more inviting. He sort of loved having physical evidence of all of the rough-housing. It made him feel a little special, like how kids feel when they get a bee sting and are proud that they survived it, bragging to their parents about how brave they are. He let out a half-wistful and half-stifled sigh, mouth moving faster than his brain.
“Man, it was all so good tonight! Ya know, I didn’t really think Miya would win, and to be honest I wasn’t rooting for him, but jeez, dude, it was so sick. I felt like I was gonna pass out from the excitement, or something.” Reki was jittery, with this sudden burst of energy, because he loved skating, and once he starting talking about it, he couldn’t stop himself, and sometimes Langa would fall asleep to his chattering and rambling, like how he was doing right now. As much as he didn’t want to, he shook Langa awake.
“Hey, man, you can’t fall asleep on the floor, ‘cuz I gotta sleep there,” Reki whispered, his voice as gentle as he could make it.
Langa drearily opened his eyes, glaring at Reki for waking him up. “Mm,” Langa hummed. “Does your head still hurt?”
He reached up and touched Reki’s forehead, trying not to put too much pressure on his bruise. They made eye contact, and Reki saw his reflection in Langa’s eyes, kind of glassy from the moonlight. As much as he wanted to stay in that trance, he forced himself to answer Langa’s question, mouth curling into a smile. “Not really. I told you, I just need to sleep it off.”
“Whatever you say,” Langa replied, a hint of sarcasm creeping in. “But don’t blame me when you wake up with a giant goose egg on your forehead.”
“Yeah, right,” Reki scoffed in reply, grinning. “Just get up and go back to sleep already.” He started brainstorming the lie he’d tell his mom when she saw his forehead. Oh, that? I just fell . I’m fine. Except that wouldn’t be believable. Maybe he would just tell the truth, but he didn’t want her to worry, or even worse, tell him that he couldn’t skate anymore. Not that she would do that, but it wasn’t exactly impossible.
He turned towards Langa, who was starting to stand up, stretching his arms above his head and yawning before stumbling into Reki’s bed. Reki was waiting for him to say something else, maybe goodnight or thanks for letting me have the bed again or maybe we could share the bed because I don’t think I can fall asleep without you and that’s not weird, right? And it wasn’t weird— because that’s what Reki wanted to ask, so badly, but Langa would probably just hit him with best friends don’t really do that kind of stuff . Of course Langa wouldn’t do that, he was amazing, he was so cool and talented and breathtaking , and Reki didn’t know why he had even thought of that in the first place. He was starting to mutter without even realizing, and Langa just watched him, patiently, like he always did when Reki was rambling about skating or food or video games. In Reki’s defense, the next few words that left his mouth just kind of slipped out, he didn’t mean to ask Langa if he could sleep in the bed with him, he couldn’t help himself, he was just tired and achey, right? His back just hurt, and the the floor was too hard.
“Hm? What?”
“Can I sleep in the bed, too? I mean— ah— nevermind, man, nevermind.” He could feel how red his face had gotten, all the way up to his ears, and he had fucked it up, again, and he could lie and just say he’s tired and he didn’t know what he was thinking, but he still said it. They were best friends—and other guys don’t do that.
“No, Reki, it’s fine, I don’t mind,” Langa replied, sounding genuine, but Reki didn’t want to take advantage of his good nature.
Langa looked red, too, probably from embarrassment, and Reki found himself saying, “Nah, it’s— it’s cool, man, I don’t know why I said that, so just, nevermind.”
Langa let out a soft “okay” before laying back down, and Reki felt his heartbeat in his hands and feet, and it was getting bad, really bad, and he was starting to wonder why it only ever happened when Langa was in the picture. Langa didn’t stress him out. The opposite, actually, but there was a ping in his chest every time he caught himself staring at Langa for a little bit too long.
Reki groaned, a deep sound, without meaning to, and he didn’t realize just how much his back actually hurt until he laid back down on his side, a sort of awkward position. Maybe he’d been pushing himself too hard trying to learn a new trick. He wasn’t a perfectionist unless it was skating, because that was his thing, but the way he would always practice something as much as he could until the sun started to set wasn’t practical, as much as he wanted it to be. His fists tightened as the thought came crashing in.
Was he working himself too hard that somehow it spread to his heart?
But that’s not how it worked, right? He clutched at his chest through his thin sleep-shirt and his eyes jolted open with a short and quick urge to cry. That feeling passed after a long second of thinking, but Reki didn’t want to stop skating. He’d rather— yeah, he’d rather do anything else besides that, which is why he couldn’t rest until he knew for sure it was something else. He could accept it, as long as it wasn’t skating-related. He could take it.
Langa was already asleep, and Reki could hear the barely audible sound of his breathing, light and rhythmic, like the pattering of rain on a window. Reki’s head was still running off of the lingering electricity, and he couldn’t get it to shut off. He needed to do something that would give him enough relief to calm down. His leg was bouncing, restlessly, as if that would stop all of the aching in his back, but more so his heart.
Reki hadn’t realized just how sleep deprived he really was—it was a complex feeling. His eyes were so heavy and dry, but his mind was so active, as if there were things he’d forget about if he let it stop. It seemed like sleep was always like this for him. He couldn’t fall asleep unless it was impossible to stay awake, but he couldn’t feel himself getting to that point tonight.
Reki jolted awake to Langa’s hand hovering over the mess that was his hair. His body was all stretched out, like a starfish, and he could feel himself getting flustered from the embarrassment. Langa let out a puff of air, like a laugh, looking down. He retracted his hand from above Reki’s hairline, falling from a crouch to a sitting position. “Go back to sleep.”
“Wh— huh?” Reki replied, confusion messing up his judgement. He knew he’d fallen asleep at some point, but he didn’t feel rested. He felt like he was 10 years old with the flu, getting woken up in the middle of the night by his mom telling him baby, it’s time to take your medicine, shhh, you can go back to sleep in a sec. She would stroke his hair gently, coaxing him back to sleep, and it’d feel like a dream when he would remember it later. That kind of sounded nice to Reki, how he’d only fall back asleep when his mother was playing with his hair.
“Reki, c’mon, it’s 4 in the morning, close your eyes.”
And because his judgment was so clouded, Reki didn’t really think twice about asking, “can you keep playing with m’ hair?”
Reki’s voice came out slurred and airy, due to the tiredness. He just wanted sleep. He closed his eyes, hoping for it. There was a part of him that knew he would remember this later, feel extremely embarrassed, and never bring it up again. But maybe that was for the best, because that unmistakable pounding from his chest was starting to fill his throat. Langa was still looking down at him, probably not knowing what to do (but Langa always knew how to handle Reki). Reki started to well up in frustration, mostly toward himself and his body for never being on the same page. He didn’t know why, but he could sense his vision blurring, and that pounding in his throat morphed into a dull, hearty ache.
“Please,” Reki whispered, a breathless word, caught in the scratch of the ache. “I just, I just, can’t sleep—“
“No, no, I can, it’s okay, Reki, just, just close your eyes, okay?”
And Langa let his fingers back into Reki’s hair, tugging lightly at the ends, and it was so soothing, so soothing and sweet, and he kept moving, each finger making circles along his scalp. God, Reki wasn’t going to be able to fall asleep on his own again.
“Sorry,” Reki mumbled into the pillow, trying to restrict his throat. The dried tears were ghosting vertically along his face.
“Shh, it’s fine, Reki, I’m not that tired.”
Surrendering to the touch, Reki’s breathing began to even out, following the rhythm of Langa’s hand. His last thought before he was done for had something to do with Langa, probably.