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I used to chase rabbits on that mountain. I used to fish for minnow in that river. I still dream of those days even now. Oh, how I miss my hometown.
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Hey—hey—did you hear? Did you? There’s an apricot tree in the old park. Yes, that apricot tree by the edge, the only tree by the edge, yes, yes, that. It’s beautiful isn’t it? It’s about four times your size. No, no, I’m not kidding, it’s that tall. And pretty too. It’s the prettiest tree in our town. No, of course I’m not inviting you there with me. Are you serious? You don’t know about the story of the tree? Where have you been living all your life? Fine, I’ll tell you.
There’s a beautiful girl by the tree that waits there. They say she has hair as scarlet as blood and eyes as pretty as sunsets. Her name? I heard it’s Reiki. She sounds lovely, right? Yeah, but don’t ever go near her, especially at midnight. She’ll lure you in with her beauty and drag you to the afterlife as a companion. She thinks you’re the boy who promised to meet her there and when she realizes that you’re not…you know what I mean, right? Krsh!
So, don’t go near the apricot tree for your sake. You have to abide by the rules—yes, rules! One, never go near the apricot tree in the park when it’s midnight. Two, when you see someone with scarlet hair and strange amber eyes, run as fast as you can before she sees you. And three—this is the most important because you might think it’s a joke—don’t call her name thrice or she’ll appear and take you with her. Look! Look at me—promise me that you’ll never ever do this ever. Okay?
Reiki might be a longing lover but she’s also a hateful one for being left by the one she loves most.
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Or that’s what the rumors say around their town anyway.
It has been reworded enough times that the real essence of the ghost story has been lost somewhere along the lines. Some say that it’s a girl who committed suicide for failing a test. Some say the girl lost her balance and broke her neck. But the most popular one, the one that all the girls in his class chatter under their breaths with a hanky on their hand, is the tragic story of a beautiful red-haired fool who believed in love and got forsaken in return.
Miya likes to think—because he has too much time in his hands anyway and he is really good with his brain—that the ghost is simply tied up by a small regret. Maybe, she hasn’t said goodbye to her parents. Because maybe, she’s more of a filial daughter than a lover. Or perhaps, she’s tied up by her hate, strong enough to keep what little population they have in their town far away from the apricot tree—perhaps, she’s been dragged to hell and back in this little town and their town just forgot how demonic they were towards the little girl.
He read about it somewhere—a whole town turning against a person—so it’s not farfetched to assume the town’s mistake.
No need for some romantic crap to dilute a perfectly good ghost story.
But if he’s really honest (and he is godforsaken-ly honest at times that people flinch when he speaks), he likes vengeful ghosts more than the boring ones. There had never been a spice in his life that gets him all tingly and excited and alive.
He knows how ironic and seemingly dubious it is but wouldn’t it be nice for a ghost to wreak havoc in their terribly dull town?
Miya kicks a pebble as he walks peacefully towards the park.
It’s already a quarter past eleven. The street is bare and the lamps flicker unsteadily. His sole reflection on the traffic mirrors make it seem more forlorn, more otherworldly—like there’s something that will crawl out the mirror and curse him (Miya crosses his fingers at this). It loses their safety ambiance under the inky sky and dark clouds and the awfully deafening silence.
The sound of water dripping from the faucet is loud in the quiet of the park. The wind picking its pace up like a warning, trees rustling in fright as Miya takes one step at a time towards the infamous apricot tree near the edge of the park.
A grin spreads on his face as soon as the tree looms tall over him. Cheeky and invested, it draws a line so similar to a Cheshire cat finally getting its way after prodding around.
The tree is about thirty-feet tall with its buds littering its branches—it’s beautiful and scary at the same time, the very image he imagines when he heard the rumors being whispered in his school. It does not stop Miya from putting a foot in a grave, however.
“Ghost?” Miya calls confidently, putting his hands on his hips. He taps his temple when nothing happens. Right, he forgot, I have to call her name for her to come out.
“What was her name again?”
Riko? Rika? Rita?
Miya shakes his head for every name he comes up with. Those were some nice names but it’s not probably one of those. It’s a weirder amalgamation, something like a furball would be christened with instead of a human—ah!
“Reiki!” He says her name thrice in rapid succession, tone speeding in crescendo which breaks the ear-piercing quiet nestling in the park. His grin widening even more at the sudden rustling he hears around him.
Miya shivers at the sudden gust of wind breezing past his nape, seemingly poking at his skin with ice.
“Are you here?”
It’s quiet once more aside from the constant drip-drop-drip from the faucet. He stands still amidst the eerie calmness for a few seconds. Four, three, two one. Nothing happens.
Miya frowns.
“Well, this is disappointing.” Miya crosses his arms.
“What is?”
A boy suddenly hangs upside down from the lowest branch of the apricot tree. His sudden intrusion makes Miya fall on his bottom. The boy snickers at him. Miya glares, “What the hell are you doing?”
“Well, I’m… just hanging around.” The boy snickers louder at his joke but it does not appease Miya. He came here to meet some ghost but instead he is met with a red-haired teen playing a prank on unsuspecting victims.
Wait—red hair? (They say she has hair as scarlet as blood)
Quick with his wits, Miya scrambles back to his feet gracefully and stares at the hanging teen.
Amber eyes (—and eyes as pretty as sunsets.). Bizarre features to have but all fitting for a protagonist in his own ghost story. Miya grins.
“Are you dead?”
There are probably nicer ways to ask a possible ghost but isn’t bluntness the key to everything?
The red-haired boy hums, crossing his own arms against his chest before gently floating down to his feet. The cloud breaks above, letting the moon shine shyly on the boy and illuminates his translucent skin, his fiery hair, and his strange amber eyes.
“Oh.” Reki pops out with a tone one would use with realization, “I guess I am.”
“You guess?”
“I sometimes forget that I had been dead for ten years, to be honest. I just feel so…” Reki cuts himself off, confusion marring his face and seeping into his voice. Miya watches as the ghost flounder—and he never thought ghost would stutter and stumble with words but here they are—and watches the tall boy with his flaming red hair, his brightly lit amber eyes, so illuminated it looks like half the sun has been taken off from their solar system and placed into this boy’s socket.
He’s really a boy, Miya thinks to himself.
There’s a beautiful girl by the tree that waits there.
Miya couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. His town is quite the funny rural place. They can’t even retain the gender of the ghost they had been talking their mouth off for a decade already.
Reki, tall, red-haired, amber-eyed, vey male-ghost Reki, tilts his head at his peculiar reaction.
“You’re really the ghost from the story? They said you were a girl.”
Reki looks affronted for a second by the information.
“Why am I a girl in the story? Is it—is it because of my pretty face?” Reki cups his cheeks with a pout. Miya purses his lips at the query, annoyed at the genuine curiosity of the ghost.
“No.” His immediate answer sweeps Reki’s expectant and almost proud expression off his face.
“Are you sure? Because when I was alive, I was really popular, you know.”
Even without knowing Reki personally, Miya picks up the lie from the way his voice fluctuates with a lower pitch. He rolls his eyes and sighs, “I am sure. They probably exaggerated it for their own entertainment. A beautiful girl with short scarlet hair?”
Miya’s appraisal of Reki’s appearance made the ghost feel self-conscious for the first time in ten years. Miya snorts, “Yeah, rumors are scary.”
“Hey! What does that mean?”
“Nothing.” Miya shrugs before turning his back, “Anyway, since I saw that the ghost here isn’t someone like the ones in horror movies, I’ll get going now. I was hoping to see someone with bleeding eyes or a grotesque figure but it turns out to be just some stupid kid who probably broke his neck from jumping down the tree.”
“Kid?” Reki grits, “I’m older than you! And I was not stupid enough to jump down from a thirty-foot tall tree. I was—”
Reki blinks at the empty spot where Miya was. He scans the surroundings and sees the boy walking nonchalantly away. He scowls crossly, disappearing from his previous spot and appearing in front of the kid again.
“Wait. Hey, wait. Wait!” Reki opens his arms wide but Miya only walks straight through him, “Hey, shortie, just wait! I was about to tell you my story!”
“Eh.” Miya drawls, “I’m not interested anymore.”
Miya watches the way Reki opens and closes his mouth. The flabbergasted ghost seems to struggle with even a single vowel that only a strangled noise in his throat escapes his tongue. Miya takes pity, as surreal as it sounds even to his ears, and says, “Fine. You have five minutes.”
Reki’s strange amber eyes brighten at his words.
“I’m Kyan Reki, by the way.”
Kyan?
God, the ghost appears more and more like a hamster with the name than a spirit who died and got stuck to roam the earthly realm. This, Miya keeps to himself for now as Reki seems to be excited with finally telling someone his story.
“You see, kid—”
“It’s Miya. Chinen Miya.”
“—yeah, Miya—okay, get this, I didn’t break my neck. See?” Reki emphasizes this by highlighting his neck, “So, that rumor is false. You have to get rid of that gossip, okay? I’m not a stupid guy. I swear. I just died because I got in a car accident—or that’s how I remember it to be. Next thing I knew, boom! I was in this park when I woke up.”
Miya blinks once, twice, before he manages to pry his mouth open just to remark snidely, “That’s… that’s such a mind-numbing way to die.”
Reki throws Miya a dirty look at the comment, offended, “Well, I’m sorry for dying like that. Shouldn’t you be sorry for me? Pity me a little, will you?”
“Hmmm.” Miya decides in a snap that he won’t. So, he says this just to rile up the ghost even more.
Reki’s shoulders slouch at the bratty attitude of the boy in front of him. He feels like he somehow fails—at being a ghost or at being a senior for this kid, he doesn’t know. Miya snickers at the defeated look of the ghost, continuing with his walk. Reki follows him with a pout but stops when Miya crosses the entrance of the park.
“You’re not going to chase me?”
Reki steps back, his eyes saddening for a moment that Miya thought it was a figment of his imagination. Reki shakes his head, suddenly smaller than his actual height, “I—I can’t leave.”
“You can’t?”
“There’s someone I’m waiting for. Someone very important to me. If I leave, we might miss each other.”
Reki, with his scarlet hair and amber eyes, translucent to Miya’s naked eyes, seems every bit alive then and there.
It dawns on Miya that rumors have always carried an essence of the truth in them, that even with the passing and swapping of words, there will be a tiny fragment of the root of the gossip, a truth no one can bury.
Miya bites his bottom lip at the realization.
Reki is the beautiful red-haired fool who got forsaken.
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It’s ridiculous, Miya thinks (because what can he do with all his time but invest in his thoughts?), that his female classmates with their preposterous fondness for romance and tragedy are right—that the ghost by the apricot tree is real; stupidly in love and longing and waiting, stuck in that park in the rare chance that the one he adores would come by and they would see each other again.
If, not when, if they see each other again.
Miya isn’t someone for positivity. And he’s not going to start now for someone he barely knows anyway.
“Did you hear?”
“About what?”
“I heard it from a friend who heard it from a friend’s cousin’s brother,” The girl lowers her voice in a volume that Miya can still hear them from three seats away, “someone saw the red-haired ghost—it seems that she was tailing a boy in the park last Wednesday.”
Miya perks up at the news, sliding a furtive glance at the four girls talking amongst themselves. They chatter and swoon and pity the ghost—always invested in useless things that Miya rolls his eyes when all of them simultaneously gasp for dramatics.
“He must have mistaken the boy as her lover. Did you know that she was so in love with her lover but her parents were against it so they tried to run away together?”
Miya pretends not to be interested by burying his face on his folded arms on the desk, turning his head to the window, ensuring that he can still listen in on them. It’s not that he’s particularly invested. Nope. It’s more of an investigation to satisfy his curiosity.
“What? I thought she ran away because she was pregnant and she was searching for the man who knocked her up?”
The girls pause with their conversation at his loud snort. Miya lets out a loud snore quickly. He can feel the stare behind him but they soon leave him be.
“Where did you even pick up that ludicrous idea?” Miya pinpoints her voice to a face—Sasaki. The previous girl, Mina, stutters in embarrassment, “I just heard it from somewhere.”
“Of course she was not pregnant.” Sasaki says, sounding snotty and superior, “She’s an epitome of a chaste tragic woman who was just trying to love.”
Miya cannot help but let out another snort, thankfully much quieter than before that it got lost amongst the noise of his classmates. He cannot believe how absolutely foolish they are—chaste and tragic and woman, those were not adjectives that he would use for Reki. Perhaps, tragic, because he’s dead and being dead is supposedly a tragedy, right?
But chaste and woman—ridiculous! Utter nonsense!
“I don’t think she’s a chaste tragic woman, Sacchan.” Miya peers from his position to see a new addition to the group, the mousy brunet opposed Sasaki with an earnest frown, earning a whiny ‘Aoi-chan!’ from the girl. Aoi fiddles with her fingers, “I don’t even think that the ghost is a woman.”
Miya sits up abruptly at her words, surprising the five girls and the boy behind him at his oddity.
Aoi nervously glances at him before continuing to her friends, “My brother came home from abroad and I asked him if he knows about any major accident ten years ago that happened in this town and he said that the only accident he knows is the car incident where his club member got killed. And it’s not a girl, it’s a boy named Reki.”
Sasaki chuckles snottily (as expected of her, Miya snidely thinks to himself) and prods a finger at Aoi, “Yes, because guy-ghost is so much better than a hang up girl-ghost.”
“It’s not something simple, Sacchan!”
“Well, we don’t want—”
“Hey, Masaki.” Miya calls Aoi, ignoring Sasaki’s ranting. He goes up to them and gestures towards the door, “Come with me.”
Aoi’s eyes widened. Miya shrugs at the surprise visibly marring all their faces. His curiosity is piqued with Aoi’s story, simple as that. He leads the way to the rooftop without saying anything despite the girl’s stuttering questions, stopping only when he is sure that no one would eavesdrop in their conversation.
“Tell me about Reki’s story. The one your brother told you about.” Miya demands with a smile. Aoi stiffens at his tone. She does not ask anything anymore, afraid if she asks, Miya will get angry.
“The g-ghost,” She shakily starts, “is not a girl. It’s a boy named Reki.”
“I know that already. What about it?”
Aoi squeaks.
“W-well, my brother was Reki's upperclassman ten years ago. He knew him very well. He told me that Reki is a really cheerful person, loud and social—Reki seems to have many friends. But—” Aoi looks down, fingers fiddling with one another once more, “—some nasty people started bullying Reki.”
“Bullying?”
“My brother is not one of them! I swear. He told me. My brother is a kind person.” Aoi defends. Miya rolls his eyes, “I don’t care if he’s good or not. Why did people start bullying Reki?”
“My brother told me that some people saw Reki ki-ki-kissing another boy in the park or something. Rumors spread that he was gay. That’s when the bullying started.”
There is a frown spreading across Miya’s face. Aoi winces at the expression, apologizing loudly while bowing profusely that Miya has to hold her shoulders before he gets dizzy himself.
“Did your brother tell you if the bullying escalated to the point Reki committed suicide?”
“No. I’m sorry.” Aoi shakes her head, “But it’s not suicide. It’s a car accident. The car they were riding was hit by a large truck. Reki died but my brother said that the driver was alive.”
“Did he tell you who the driver was?”
Aoi shakes her head again. Miya blows air through his nose in frustration, bidding the girl a brief farewell after.
“Wait, Miya-kun.” Aoi tugs at his sleeve, “I forgot to tell you but it seems important to the story. The other person that Reki kissed—it wasn’t until Reki died that it was revealed. His name, ano, I think it’s Langa-san.”
The piece of information that Aoi reveals fuels Miya’s curiosity even more.
He spent the whole afternoon mulling over Reki’s incident, his bullying, and the boy named Langa. When classes end, he rushes to the library to browse through old newspapers that might contain information and to see if there’s a computer available for him to use (which is unfortunate that there weren’t).
The newspapers were stored at the very back where the aisle has been collecting dust. Miya browses through the thick file, coughing as dust particles spread around as he opens the papers. It took about an hour when he finally found the correct date of the accident.
2 Dead, 1 Survivor Following the Car Accident in Yonabaru
Under the headline, it read June 23, 1995. The text has missing paragraphs due to the tear and wear from the mercy of time. But all the papers have one thing in common: there’s no mention of the survivor’s name, not even a picture of him.
Miya reread it a couple times to make sure but to no avail.
He groans at his dilemma.
Fine, fine, he admits, I’m too invested in this now to give up. Because something is pulling him into the story—perhaps, his curious nature, perhaps, it’s pity, or perhaps, Reki is an entity that easily and naturally grows on people.
In the end, he finds himself in the park past midnight once more, six days after his first meeting with the ghost. Reki is already floating around the apricot tree, humming cheerily to himself that he does not take notice of Miya’s presence. Not until he calls him out anyway.
“Miya!” Reki waves enthusiastically, “Wow! You’re here. I thought I’ll never see you again. Did you miss me? Did you? Did you?”
Miya rubs his temple as Reki begins circling him instead.
“Stop.” He groans but the ghost just continues to annoy him with his incessant spinning, “If you don’t stop, I’ll leave.”
“What? No. Don’t! You’re the first person to talk to me in years.” Reki whines. Miya huffs, “If you keep being annoying, I’ll also be the last.”
“You’re getting brattier and brattier, aren’t ya?” Reki poofs himself a meter away from him, hiding behind the apricot tree with his tail between his legs. Miya rolls his eyes at him. “News to you? Anyway!” He cuts when he sees Reki opening his mouth to refute, “I was in the library awhile ago to investigate your case because—”
“You care?”
“—I was bored.” Reki deflates at his words, “And I saw your obituary and the news of the accident. But I also read that there was a survivor. Do you remember him?”
“Survivor?” Reki tilts his head, “I was not alone when I died?”
With his answer, Miya sags. It seems that Reki’s memories are hazy—that or he repressed the memory of his death. It must have been traumatic. Even he cringed at the way his death was described, all pressed up by the truck.
Miya sighs, sits against the tree, and thinks.
There must be some way to sort this out. The whole town was abuzz about it ten years ago. They even made a rumor out of it. How can they just forget about the people involved in the accident? Are they still here in town? Did they move away? What about that Langa in Masaki’s story? Did he not care that Reki died? Too many questions and yet, he can’t find immediate answers to them.
Should he start asking around?
That will probably take days or weeks but—Miya glances at the ghost sliding down the slide in the park, grinning to himself like he’s younger than Miya—ah, whatever! Right, he’s good at that too sometimes. He’s going to whatever his way through this peculiar situation he is in right now and when he gets bored of this, he’ll just move on to another interesting phenomenon he gets wind up into.
He has so much time on his hands and nobody to spend it with except for ghost stories that take him out of their empty house and away from immature kids who don’t know anything better.
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The next day, he finds himself snooping around his classmates’ whispers. God knows how they talk about the rumors so much. That’s how utterly boring their town is—so hang up on a ghost they barely know and twist it around for their entertainment and convenience.
He found them all useless.
So, he goes out of the school premise with his investigation. The shopkeeper in front of their school is a sweet old woman who talked his ears out but did not give him any helpful lead. The librarian only grimaces at him and his parents don’t even have a clue that the accident happened, having just moved there about five years ago. He tried with the police but they said that they’re too busy to entertain kids like him.
Ha! Like their town is interesting enough to keep them busy. Those lazy liars.
“You look glum.”
Reki appears upside down before him, the full moon piercing his translucent figure that Miya has to adjust his eyes to see Reki’s curious amber eyes.
“People around here are jellyfish.” Miya sneers.
“How so?”
“I’d been going around to collect information about that survivor and no one can recall. Bunch of useless people. Just going around and floating and surprisingly still surviving. Ack!” Miya kicks a pebble as he walks. The pebble rolls a meter away from him, hitting the swing set with a ting!
“Why’d you need to know him anyway?”
“To know what happened to you.”
“I died, that’s what happened.”
“Before that, you dumbass.”
“That’s not nice.”
Miya narrows his eyes at Reki. Reki concedes, muttering under his breath an annoyed ‘geez, kids these days’.
“Do you not want to know your life before that?”
“Hmmm.” Reki hums, “Nah, I just want to meet Langa and go.”
“What’s so special about him anyway?” Miya’s ears perk at the name. It’s the first time Reki personally mentioned Langa to him.
“I don’t know really. But I just want to see him for the last time. He has appeared in my dreams for the last ten years. Yes, we dream too. Ghost has feelings too, ya know.” Reki says at the unconvinced look of Miya, “He’s an ambiguous figure. But I am certain that his eyes were a cooler color because when I see it, I feel like I’m just staring at the ocean after a storm. And his hair,”
Reki brings his hand to himself, “I think they’re as soft as snow. There’s a vague feeling of touching them. And if I can, I would like to card my hands through them once more—for the last time, for old time’s sake. For my sake. Perhaps, then, I would truly be at peace.”
(My brother told me that some people saw Reki kissing another boy in the park.)
Huh. Maybe, Masaki’s brother was not kidding. Reki is gay. And in love. Miya purses his lips.
“He sounds more popular than you are.”
Reki pauses at the comment, blinks, and then roars with laughter. Miya almost smiles at his genuine reaction. Reki wipes a tear from his eyes and says, “He must be. Or else, I won’t feel this way.”
Miya hides his grimace. Not for Reki’s honesty. But from knowing how those feelings compromised a part of his life. Did Reki ever regret falling for that Langa guy? Or will he regret it after knowing that his feelings made him suffer?
“You’re not surprised?”
“About what?”
“Me telling you that I’m probably gay for this Langa.”
Miya snorts. Probably. That’s definitely not the word suited between ‘I’m’ and ‘gay’ when Reki strings that sentence together. Absolutely is the better term. He says this to Reki, who laughs once more.
“You’re truly a weird kid, Miya.”
“And you comment the obvious too much, dead boy.”
The chime of laughter is loud in the park. If someone hears it, they’ll think of a teen having the time of his life rather than a ghost laughing at the audacity of kids nowadays.
.
After some thorough thinking before going to bed for the past few days, and perhaps Miya should have thought about it at first as the most probable solution to acquiring valuable information, Miya is hit by the realization that going to the cemetery is the key.
Banking on the guilt of the survivor and assuming that he still visits the old cemetery next to the church, Miya just had to do a stakeout so he can catch that pesky survivor people are so mum about.
He goes to the flower shop in their town and buys a single stem of red rose for ceremonial purposes. The florist asked him if it was for a girl, to which he just glared and left to go to the cemetery, leaving a flabbergasted man in his late 30’s (or so Miya assumed).
Huh, it’s rather big. Miya scans the surroundings and sees gravestones line up meticulously. The dirt road branches out to several junctions, some leading to older tombstones where grasses are left unattended. He follows the line of headstones that he thinks are not newly put up but also not as old as the ones he saw when he took a wrong turn.
Kyan Reki. Kyan Reki. Kyan Reki—but the ghost’s name isn’t on any of the graves he passes by so ventures deeper into the cemetery, running around like a kid playing tag. He is so engrossed in searching for Reki’s grave that he did not notice the man quietly walking by that he directly bumped into him.
“Ah, sorry about that.” The green-haired man apologizes, quickly offering a hand to Miya before continuing with his walk. Miya rubs his sore bottom. The impact being much too strong for his delicate physique.
He sneered at the bulky man before turning towards the direction where the man came from. Ten graves away from where he was bumped into, he finally sees the grave of Kyan Reki.
Reki’s grave is clean. The grass around it was kept trimmed and the headstone was spotless. He seems to be constantly remembered instead of forgotten as there were no dried up flowers placed atop, instead there are different bouquets of flowers that might have been placed just recently.
“Bingo.” Miya grins at the discovery.
As he thought, someone is still visiting the grave. Miya gingerly touches the bouquet of roses and pink carnations that caught his eyes, purses his lips in thought—this seems to be quite new.
He glances at the roses next to the combination. Unlike the others where the petals are a bit frayed, the one he holds is fresh as if it was just bought today from a flower shop.
“Don’t tell me…”
Miya runs to the entrance of the cemetery, looking everywhere for the sign of a bulky man. He might not be who he was looking for and the man might not even be connected to Reki at all but it’s better to ask than let things pass him by. The man could even give him a trace—anything at all so he can piece the puzzle of Reki’s life before death.
But there were no people that looked anywhere near the guy’s appearance, only teens skateboarding, only church goers walking out of the church, only cars passing by.
.
“Are you sure about this, Kojiro? Returning here is…”
“Yeah… I run away but I shouldn’t have. It’s been ten years already.”
Kaoru sighs, starting the engine. Kojiro is looking off to the distance, eyes seemingly seeing a wisp of memories with how morose they were. When Kojiro does not say anything anymore, Kaoru drives off, passing by the entrance of the cemetery, passing by a boy who appears to be frantically looking for someone.
.
“I was this close!” Miya screams in frustration at Reki who merely blinks at him before floating away to the apricot tree. He follows the ghost and stands beside Reki, back leaning on the trunk of the tree.
“You get more and more frustrated, Miya.” Reki comments lightly, “Maybe, it’s enough? You really don’t have to search for information about me. Go and play with your friends, Miya.”
“I’m doing this for my own sake.” Miya responds with a roll of his eyes, a frown on his lips, “I really can’t sit still if I am interested in something and I don’t find the answer to it. So, let me be.”
Like an afterthought, Miya adds, “Plus, I don’t have any friends.”
Reki does not comment on his admission. He glances at him and sees Reki’s face bare of pity. Most people tend to pity him when he bluntly puts out the reason to his lonesome self but Reki only sidles next to him and pats his head (or that’s what Miya thinks Reki is trying to do).
“I have many friends once.” Reki simply states, “There’s Joe—he’s really awesome. I want to be like him one day. And Cherry who is way cooler than Joe but really strict at times. I called him Mama all the time to annoy him. There’s also Hiromi who got these delicate hands despite his rough appearance. His flowers are the best! I hope he has his own flower shop one day. And then, I also have Langa—he’s more of a person I love but he’s also my best friend.”
“They sound nice.”
“They are.” Reki smiles, “They’re probably no longer in this town. We all wanted to grow up and leave, after all. But that’s not the point why I am telling you this.”
“You were after a point?” Miya winces at the sudden chills wrapping around him and sticks his tongue at the annoyed Reki. Reki continues even with Miya’s childishness, “The point is that those friends of mine—I found them all in different periods of my life when I was alive. Friends are not something you can shop for and having a lot of friends is not something you need to have like a task in your to-do list. It’s okay if you don’t have friends or if you can’t make any friends right now. They’ll find you or you’ll find them. That’s how it goes.”
Miya whips his head at Reki’s direction. Reki’s warm smile tints his cheeks pink.
“You… you are wise sometimes, Reki.” Despite his snarky comment, there’s a crack in his voice that he can blame later on puberty.
It was the first time someone told him that being friendless is okay. People out there had been giving him an earful about building bridges early in his life so he won’t be alone.
He did try—he truly did.
It’s just that those kids are so stupid and stubborn and insecure; and he understands that kids are like that sometimes but why do they always have to say it’s his fault when they don’t want to be friends anymore?
“You’ll be alright, Miya.” Reki says, “Your snarkiness will ward off people not worth your time—like Cherry! If you meet Cherry, you two will click together that Joe will be so jealous of you.”
Miya chuckles at Reki and his enthusiasm. It’s so Reki of him to worry about a friendless child like Miya.
“Hey, Reki?” Miya pipes after a second.
“Hmm?”
Miya twiddles with his hands, hesitant and embarrassed, but he makes use of his tongue before he swallows what little courage he summoned.
“Will you… um, will you be my friend?”
Reki grins at the red tips of Miya’s ears but he doesn’t tease the impressionable child, “Of course. I’ll be your first friend then!”
Reki’s answer pulls a thorn on Miya’s side. He hides the idiotic grin he knows his face is displaying in instinctual joy.
“Hmmph! Good for you. I normally don’t ask stupid ghosts to be one.”
Reki giggles before he lets Miya rest well with his thought. When the wind becomes breezier and the silence too quiet but comfortable, Reki hums.
It’s a rumble at first but it picks up in volume the second time Reki repeats the song. A children song. Miya racks his brain to pinpoint the familiar tune and then feels his breath suspended in his chest.
I used to chase rabbits on that mountain. I used to fish for minnow in that river. I still dream of those days even now. Oh, how I miss my hometown.
Reki must have explored every nook of this dull town, climbed hills and fished on rivers on summer days. Miya can almost imagine Reki tumbling down on the grass, laughing childishly, like he somehow conquered the world— so young, naïve, and alive.
And with Langa.
I wonder if my parents are doing well. I wonder if my old friends are alright. When it rains, when the wind blows, I think of my home town.
“Hey, Reki?”
“Mmm?”
“You can remember the names of your friends but not everything?”
Reki pauses, looks at the sky, and then says, “I remember bits and pieces. They’re all over the places but I can remember some that are vivid.”
“Can you tell me your favorite memory?” Miya bets with all his bones that it’s a memory with Langa.
He’s right.
Reki leans on the apricot tree with a reminiscing smile, soft and soaked in affections, “We drew a heart with our names on this apricot tree. It was autumn and the leaves had fallen. I was the one who invited him to walk around even though it’s cold and it’s past our curfew. I just couldn’t sleep and Langa… Langa is the guy that got dragged around by me easily. So, we found ourselves in this park, in front of this tree, and we talk and talk until we are not talking anymore.”
Reki chuckles under his breath, a blush on his translucent face. Miya grimaces at the implication but does not interrupt.
“It’s our first kiss.” Reki sighs, “We were fourteen and stupid and in love. We carved that heart with a sharp stone and promised to be together forever. Ha.” Reki laughs bitterly and then, in an even quieter tone, he says, “Sorry about that, Langa.”
Miya freezes at the way Reki talks. He furtively glances at the ghost, whose eyes have become a thin sheet of ice on the town’s river about to melt under the first ray of spring light.
“I’m really sorry, Langa, for breaking that promise.”
Once I've done what I set out to do, I'll return home one of these days. Where the mountains are green, my home town, and the water is clear, my home town.
Miya looks away at the first tear that slid down Reki’s cheek. There’s almost a trembling creeping sound that wraps the old park that sounded like come home to me, Langa. A deafening noise that draws a moment long gone that only Reki could see.
There’s a promise on the tree that Miya now knows.
He does not know what to do with the knowledge. It was a private oath between two naïve fools who hoped with too much hope that when it was broken, there is nothing that either one can do.
So, Miya does not utter any word, his back pressed on the old scar of the tree that spelt a crooked heart with L + R 4ever within, a scarred promise which had been once inflicted by gawky hopeful teens who were none the wiser for the future they never had but lost anyway.
One day, this scar will die along with the tree. Today, it connects Reki the Ghost to the past Miya never has the luxury to partake.
.
There were no new flowers the next day on Reki’s grave. Nor were there the day after. Miya has to wait for a week to encounter the same green-haired man again.
He almost missed him. The man was brief in his visit and Miya got there a little later because they were let out late by the teacher due to a prank gone wrong by one of his classmates.
Idiots. They’re a bunch of idiots but that’s a suffering that Miya has to endure. One day, he’ll get out of this dull town. But for now, he’ll just venture out of the school premise to the cemetery.
If he was even a minute later, Miya would have gone not knowing if the man has any connection to Reki. He would have moved on from the graveyard and focused on hunting down Masaki’s brother.
Thank God, he does not have to talk to his classmate’s brother. God knows what rumor will be spun from that action alone.
He runs as fast as he can and when he turns to the same route, like a colossal mishap of fate or a coincidence too uncanny, he bumps into the green-haired bulky man once more.
“Ah, sorry about that.” The man reaches out to help him but Miya, always quick with his wits, has no time to let his surprise take this opportunity away from him. He grabs the man’s arm and holds it firmly.
“What the hell? Kid, what are you doing?” The man flails but he holds on tighter.
“I’m Chinen Miya and there’s something I want to ask.” And you have no choice but to answer is what his voice implies. The man’s face twists in confusion and irritation. Understandable. But Miya could not care less.
The man sighs.
“Look, kid, I’m not into children.”
Miya chokes out a disgusted noise, his face contorting in absolute revulsion that the man easily feels offended.
Miya takes three steps back like he has touched something that no normal person would, “What the hell are you talking about? I’m not hitting on you, you pedo Matcha bear.”
“Wai-wait! That’s not it. I’m trying to say I’m not a pedo—” With Miya’s disgruntled expression, the man stops and sighs, scratches the back of his head, and then says, “You know what, just ask whatever you need to ask. Someone who is definitely way older than you is waiting for me.”
“Right…” Miya still looks dubious but he continues with his agenda, “I just want to ask if you know something about the incident here ten years ago. The one that involves Reki.”
The man’s demeanor shifts. His expression steels and his body going stiff. Miya assesses the change with wide curious eyes. Bingo, his thought rang. He hits the jackpot. Miya feels a sense of satisfaction for being right with his assumption.
“How—” The man’s voice is tight, “How do you know him?”
“Huh.” Miya treads carefully, “So you really know him.”
“How do you know him?”
“Don’t be angry.” Miya advises when he sees the man’s hands form into a fist, “I’m a nosy kid who wants to know Kyan Reki. I asked around but nobody seems to remember.”
“Kid.” The man starts with a frown, an angry and pained façade playing across his face, “Don’t say Reki’s name easily. If you’re just curious, forget about it. Go home and just be curious about something else.”
“No.” Miya simply refutes, “Reki is very interesting and is different from the ghost story and I can’t just go home empty-handed after I invested so much of my time digging around.”
“Don’t treat Reki as an entertainment!”
Miya flinches at the weight around his collar, pulling him up without qualms. He stares at the fury in the man’s eyes and something clicks in his mind.
“You’re the survivor from the accident.”
“So what? Are you going to blame me too? Or are you going to say Reki deserves to die? Is that it? You f—”
“Why were you so la—Kojiro!” A pink-haired man (or woman, Miya can’t tell) appears next to the man—Kojiro, was it?—and loosens the grip Kojiro holds around his collar. Kojiro bits his lips until he draws blood, and Miya bets that if there was a solid wall near them, Kojiro would have punched it by now.
“Kaoru—that kid—that kid is… Reki… he—” Kaoru takes Kojiro’s hand, pulls him close until Kojiro is an inch away, then holds him. His delicate fingers rubbing circles on Kojiro’s back. Miya could hear the soft murmurs of calm down, it’s okay, it’s okay.
“What’s wrong with him?” Miya tilts his head, clumsily concerned. Kaoru slides him a scolding stare that has him standing up in his best behavior. Miya toes the ground, “I’m sorry.”
Kaoru sighs, “Let’s all go back. It’s getting late and I prefer talking in a warmer place than a cemetery.”
.
Miya was taught by his parents to never talk to strangers or follow them in their car. He probably should start following their good-natured advice for his own survival. But he is in the car with two strange men now and they’re driving off to a place Miya never explored before.
There really should be a limit to his curiosity but at least, his lucky star is still smiling down on him (albeit with much frustration, Miya wagers) as they pull up in a garage next to a large traditional house in a cul-de-sac three streets away from the cemetery.
“You’re rich?”
Kaoru slaps Miya’s wandering fingers from touching a gold decorated vase by the door. Miya rubs the spot as they walk deeper into the house, sitting at the drawing room minutes later. Kojiro and he sat in silence as Kaoru prepared snacks for them.
“So…” Miya starts, “I’m really sorry about what happened earlier.”
Kojiro sighs exhaustedly, “No. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t be shouting at kids.”
“Oh, it’s okay. I read from a book that there are various symptoms that survivors will exhibit at times.” Miya waves his concerns away nonchalantly and when Kojiro wrinkles his nose at him, he continues, “I’m a smart kid. I know things most do not know.”
Kojiro stares at him for a second before chuckling under his breath, “Smart kids are something else entirely. The one I know who is smart is pretty weird with a one-track mind.”
“Is it… is it Reki?” Miya purposely guesses wrong. Kojiro shakes his head, leaning on his palm, “Langa. I’m sure you heard of him if you know Reki.”
“Langa.” Miya rolls the name in his tongue, fitting it until he is satisfied with the taste, “Langa is Reki’s boyfriend, right?”
“I see that you are perceptive.”
“Not really.” Miya replies, hesitates at first before adding, “Reki told me actually.”
There’s no better way to break it to them. It’s not like it’s just a topic Miya can weave through seamlessly. So, he carelessly throws it out in the open and hopes for the best.
He hears the clanking of plates and cups on wobbly hands and sees Kojiro’s face distorted into fury once more but before they can send them out for mistakenly believing that he is playing a ‘prank’ on them, he quickly defends, “I’m not lying. I don’t know how but I can see Reki’s ghost. He’s by the apricot tree at the edge of the park. I swear.”
“If you’re joking, say so. Stop with a blatant lie because that’s just cruel.” Kojiro’s voice comes out low, warped by his emotions, cracking by the edges. Kaoru sits next to Kojiro and offers him a pristine white handkerchief.
“You know, kid, if you want to know about Reki so much, we can tell you but you have to stop with the lies.” Kaoru glares at him but Miya shakes his head, “I swear I am not lying. You can come with me at the park today or even tomorrow.”
Kaoru assesses him with cold eyes. The grandfather clock ticks behind Miya and he feels sweat gathering on his temple at the heavy prodding stare. Miya hesitates to even breathe in fear that it would only incur the pink-haired man’s wrath.
But Kaoru only ends up shrugging, surprising Miya at the sudden turn of his attitude, “Fine.”
“Kaoru!”
Kaoru stops Kojiro with a raised palm.
“Kojiro, you’re a mess. You had been for the last ten years because of the accident. You said it yourself, it’s time to stop running away because we had run far and long enough.” Kaoru brushes the skin below Kojiro’s eyes and it dawns on Miya that they’re also together-together like Reki and Langa.
“I’m Sakurayashiki Kaoru. And this is Nanjo Kojiro.” Kaoru says suddenly, “It occurs to me that we had not formally introduced each other yet.”
“I’m Chinen Miya.” Miya immediately introduces himself after. There really is something about Kaoru that compels people to abide by his authority. He relaxes when Kaoru nods in approval but tenses once more when the man’s eyes narrow, “So, how did you see Reki?”
“Well…” Miya dives into explanation, glossing over how he was about to abandon the ghost after realizing his cheery nature and finishes with, “So, I got around and asked people but they seem to not know or not want to talk about Reki at all. The rumors even say Reiki instead of Reki. That’s why I want to know how it got all tangled up along the way.”
“Miya,” Kojiro speaks after a minute, “You’re young but you understand it, don’t you?”
Miya grimaces but nods anyway.
“This is why I want to escape this small town.” He remarks, “It’s… suffocating here.”
Kaoru and Kojiro know this well enough. People around here were not especially kind to people like them. Part of the reason why they packed their bags and left all those years ago was because of the nosiness of this town and their huffy nature for things they don’t understand.
Kojiro gazes out for a moment and sees a familiar scratch on the illuminated garden. They were only two years older than Reki and Langa. But sometimes it feels like they were much older.
They always were youthful. When everyone else is growing up and growing cynical, they were a spring breeze for winter somberness.
“Reki and Langa are kind people.” Kojiro reels the conversation instead of dwelling on irksome things plaguing their town, “Reki wants to be an engineer. He likes building things, you see. He would often go to junkyards and ask for spares—the ones they really don’t need and build something from it. He was… full of life and ambitions. I always thought that he would make it somehow.”
“Langa, on the other hand, followed Reki like Reki is a compass to his own life. He got dragged around by Reki all the time and it’s not even because Reki is forcing him. Langa just follows wherever Reki goes. That’s their dynamic. When Reki loves something, Langa would eventually love it. When Reki dreams something, Langa would come up with a plan that would insert himself in those dreams. And then they would dream together. It’s not a surprise when the two ended up falling for each other. It’s a long time coming.”
“But then Reki died.” Miya cuts.
Kojiro shakes his head, “There’s more to it than that. We all thought they would be together for the rest of their lives. They seem to be planning it. But then the bullying started and Reki, while he is kind, is full of anxiety as well. He never wanted Langa to be hurt. And then Ainosuke came into the picture and everything is just a mess after.”
“Who is Ainosuke?” Curiously, Miya queries. Kaoru huffs at the name, “He’s someone who has a lot going on his plate all those years ago and made the dumbest mistake of his life.”
“Did someone cheat? Did Langa?” Miya frowns, protective over Reki.
Kojiro blows air of frustration, “It’s complicated. Langa did not cheat or anything. Langa would kill himself before he allows himself to even think about cheating.”
“Then what happened?”
“It’s more like a promise was broken because of Ainosuke.” Kaoru inputs when Kojiro fails to simplify it, “Promises are very important between Reki and Langa. And with everything that’s going on, Reki held onto that one promise.”
“You know what, I’m too sober talking about this. I’ll just pull out that bottle of wine that bastard gifted us.” Kojiro struts out and enters again holding Lafite-Rothschild with two wine glasses, “You drink all that tea while the adults get smashed, okay?”
“Isn’t that irresponsible?”
“Well, kid, adults are irresponsible. We are just better at hiding it.”
Miya gives Kaoru a stare that says ‘are-you-not-going-to-stop-him?’ to which Kaoru responds by taking the first swig of the alcohol. Miya sighs, taking a sip of his own tea and grasping that there is no way he will be getting the full detail of Reki’s past tonight.
Two hours later, Kojiro is snoring soundly. Kaoru surprisingly held his ground, his cheeks tinted but his eyes were crystal clear.
“You should sleep here tonight. I’ll call your parents for you.”
“Nah, it’s okay. They’re not around much, anyway.”
“Then let’s retire for the night. We’ll talk again tomorrow.” Kaoru suggests before carrying on inquisitively, “Did you really see Reki?”
Miya bites onto the biscuit and contemplates. His reliability hangs on his answer and if he does not get it right, Kaoru will probably throw him out their door.
“Unlike the rumors, Reki’s hair is flaming red, short, and messy. His eyes are bright amber. When he laughs or smiles, his eyes do the same.” Miya describes honestly, imagining Reki sitting beside them.
Kaoru’s lips break into a small smile. There’s almost a forlorn shadow clinging on the edges of his expression, a curve that opened a door and walked right into a bookmarked page of their youthful days.
“Red hair and amber eyes that smile when his lips do.” Kaoru repeats, a fracture in his voice that spills out as he agrees, “Yes, that’s our Reki.”
.
.
“Drive. Just drive, Joe! Please!”
“Reki, we should—”
“Please! I just want to get out of here for a bit. I just want to be away to think. So, please, Joe. Please, I’m begging you.”
.
.
“WATCH OUT!”
.
.
“Doctor, his heart rate is falling. Prepare for—”
“CLEAR!”
“Re…ki…”
.
.
“Where’s Reki?”
“Kojiro… Reki died in the car crash. It’s been a month since.”
.
.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please—Please, Reki, forgive me.”
.
.
.
I wonder if my parents are doing well. I wonder if my old friends are alright. When it rains, when the wind blows, I think of my home town.
.
.
.
“Hey, Joe.” Hiromi greets Kojiro as soon as he enters the flower shop. His old friend wears a smile that shouldn’t have been worn by an entrepreneur trying to make a living. But they seem to always suck the life out of each other with the baggage they’re carrying.
“Don’t be like that, Hiromi.” Kojiro says as he stands in front of the red roses shelf. Hiromi shuffles next to him, “It’s like a habit now, Joe. Sorry about that.”
“Well, you should be. It’s not like you saw a ghost or anything.” Hiromi chuckles at his glib joke. Hiromi nudges him, “Will it be the same order?”
Kojiro stares at the flowers around them before smiling, “Nah. Why don’t you make me the happiest bouquet?”
“Happiest?”
“Yeah. After all, I’m the one going to see a ghost.”
Hiromi turns to him with a curious look, “What do you mean by that, Joe?”
Kojiro picks a stem of rose from the stand and caresses the petals, “Do you think I’ve gone crazy for believing a kid who told me he saw Reki’s ghost?”
Hiromi drops the step of carnation he was holding.
“Are you serious right now, Joe?”
“Yeah—yeah, I guess I am.” Kojiro starts, picking up the stem from the floor and handing it back to Hiromi.
“Some kid came running to the cemetery and demanded to know our Reki. We took him home to ask him how he knows of Reki and he just said that he can see Reki. Our dead Reki. Reki who has been dead for ten years.” Kojiro laughs somberly, repeating their friend’s name like if he repeated it enough times, Reki would appear, “And Kaoru believed this kid because he described Reki the same way we remember him to be. Who wouldn’t want to grasp at that straw, huh, Hiromi?”
The table behind them creaks at the weight of Hiromi. Kojiro shifts his attention to him and sees the man with wobbling lips like he is trying so hard not to cry but the metaphorical pinch in all their chest is too much to handle.
“I should call you a lunatic, Joe.” Hiromi comments. He places a palm against his chest, the thumping of his heart within stutters with the emotions that always follow him when they all remember Reki together, “But if Kaoru says so… if he says so… then it must be true, right? That we can see Reki again? Even for a moment.”
Look at them, Hiromi wipes the tears from his eyes, look at them struggle with hope—three adult males believing in ghosts. Reki would have jeered at them for it.
“We are all a little bit crazy.” Kojiro pats Hiromi’s shoulder, “So, make the happiest bouquet. We don’t want to disappoint Reki, do we?”
“Of course, we won’t.” Hiromi replies, “Not anymore.”
Hiromi goes to the deeper section of his shop and begins arranging a bouquet of carnations, chrysanthemum, calendula, daffodil, and does not forget to include peonies with them.
Happiness is not without sorrow, after all.
.
The moon is high up in the sky, full and radiant from the kisses of the sleeping sun. It shines brightly down on Miya as he leads three adults from the car to the edge of the park. But not without his curiosity consuming a part of him.
“So, who’s the addition to this group?” Miya asks, rudely pointing at Hiromi. Hiromi glares at him, “The hell you’re pointing at, brat?”
“Hiromi, language.” Kaoru reprimands. “This is one of our friends, Higa Hiromi. He owns the flower shop in this town.”
Miya pops out an ‘ah!’ as he stares at the newcomer. He twirls around Hiromi just enough to irritate the man and snickers when Hiromi tries to grab a hold of him. He sticks his tongue out behind Kaoru and says, “That’s why he’s so familiar, Kaoru-san.”
“Don’t be too rude, Miya.” Kaoru lightly hits him with the fan in his hand, eliciting an ‘ouch, Kaoru-san! I was not being rude’ from Miya and a mocking laugh from Hiromi. “Do not start too, Hiromi.”
“Yes, sir!”
Miya runs up a few steps forward from them after kicking Hiromi’s shin, stopping when he is in front of the apricot tree. He turns to see the trio sidling up slowly like they are afraid of seeing things through because what if—Miya guesses—what if the kid in front of them is lying just to get attention?
Miya crosses his fingers that Reki will also be seen by these people who want to see him most.
“Reki?” He calls quietly when the three men are just a meter away. The leaves on the apricot tree sway gently before Reki jumps down in front of Miya.
“Why so quiet, Miya?”
Miya swivels to the men to gauge their reactions, hoping with all hope that they see Reki, that they can hear Reki. Kojiro staggers back as Kaoru catches him by the arm while Hiromi stumbles down on his knees on his own. They all gaped at the boy, who never aged a day, happily chatting away.
“Reki…” At the call of his name, Reki turns to the three and gasps. Reki points respectively, “Joe! Cherry! And Hiromi! What are you doing here? And wow! You look much older than before huh. Joe, you bulked up good. Did you go to the gym to impress Cherry? Wait! Are you two together now? Wait! Am I not supposed to say that? Oh man, it’s been so long!”
Reki stands before them in his translucent glory with a toothy grin that takes them back to the days of their youth. They may not be as old as men with graying hair but the ten years that passed them by, trapping them in a loop, has weathered their souls.
Reki fits right somewhat to carry the iridescent glow of time long gone, fits like a puzzle piece that had slipped out of their notice and precipitously appeared out of nowhere after they frustrated over how they lost it (how they lost him).
“Well, I think you should tell Cherry about it, Joe. You’ll never know if you don’t ever try.”
Kojiro slowly arches down his head, one hand covering his eyes. But Miya sees the drops of tear hitting the ground like rain.
“Cherry! Cherry! Look! This is a prototype that acts like a vacuum but moves on their own! I got the idea from your grumbling the other day. I’ll call it Cherry Cleaner Deluxe 1.0.”
Kaoru hides his face behind his fan but his trembling shoulders give him away. Miya understands—somewhat—how overwhelming being reunited with a friend could be. That’s what he read in books anyway.
“You know, Hiromi, you have green thumbs and the garden you handle at the back of our school is amazing. Why don’t you try to be a florist someday? I’ll buy lots and lots of flowers from you. And if Langa and I get married, we can get a discount, right?”
Hiromi crosses his arms on his face and lets out a devastated wail.
They knew.
Of course, they knew. Ten years rolled over their bodies like boulders from uphill with the constant reminder of Reki’s death. But having to face it again, to see what Reki became, to know how they abandoned Reki here and moved on with their lives while Reki is stuck waiting by this apricot tree, it’s something that haunted them and will haunt them as long as they live.
Because Reki should have been alive, because he should have grown old with them, because he has the most dreams out of everyone—why is it always the good ones?
Reki makes a surprise noise, fussing over them. He floats around trying to comfort but his hands go through their bodies. Reki sighs in exasperation at his inability to physically touch people.
There was nothing Reki nor Miya could do. The three men all threw their inhibition to the ground and let the wound they tightly wrapped in bandages of excuses breathe for the first time in a long while.
They don’t calm down for the next hour or so. Only when the darkened sky changes into a lighter shade of blue, a sign of the dawn breaking, did they gather themselves enough not to wail when they see Reki.
“Before you all go full-cry again, we should all probably sit.” Miya, ever the expert of intentionally ruining moments, pipes up. He grabs Kaoru’s hand and tugs them to a blanket behind the apricot tree. It’s a good thing he prepared in advance.
They all settled on the large blanket. Miya sat between Kojiro and Kaoru with Hiromi on Kojiro’s left. Reki sits next to him.
“Hi.” Reki waves unsurely. Kojiro grins tearfully, “Hi, Reki.”
“It’s been a long time, huh. Nice to see you again.” Kaoru adds. Hiromi nods his head, the beginning of tears gathering at the corner of his eyes but he sniffles loudly on his handkerchief to prevent himself from crying. “You still look like a runt, Reki.”
Reki laughs cheerily albeit there’s an itch in his throat that he can’t quite explain.
“You all look so different after ten years, I almost did not recognize you three. Good thing for your weirdly-colored hair, huh? Look at you Joe, all muscular and big. You must have worked out like crazy to seduce Cherry!” Reki gestures at Kojiro who blushes at his comment, “And Cherry! Wow, you look… elegant. I mean you had always looked elegant but without those piercings, you look like some esteemed Lord of a land, ya know?”
Kaoru huffs at Reki’s teasing grin.
“Hiromi, I see that you also got yourself some muscles. You used to be a runt like me!” Reki gushes before his eyes land on the flowers Hiromi delicately protected from his earlier bawling, “Did you make that?”
At Hiromi’s nod, Reki grins brighter, “You became a florist? I know that you can do it. I always like the flowers you grew. If I was alive, I would have bought lots and lots of it.”
“Come on, man.” Hiromi sniffles, “That’s going to make me cry again. My head already hurts from doing so for the last three hours.”
“You’re still a crybaby, Hiromi. Shockers.” Reki sniggers before stopping when his eyes wander at Kojiro, whose solemn stare paralyzes him. Reki tilts his head, unsurely, “What are you looking at, Joe?”
“Don’t you…” Kojiro stops, breathes deeply three times, and then continues, “Don’t you hate me, Reki?”
“Why would I?” Reki asks with no malice. Kojiro stutters out, “Because I killed you.”
“Kojiro, we talked about this—”
“Kaoru, please.” Kojiro turns to Kaoru, “Let me just ask Reki. It’s Reki who can tell me if I did or did not.”
Turning to the utterly confused Reki, Kojiro says, “That day you died… when you wanted to get out of the town, you came to me. Asked me to drive you out and far from here. But we—” Kojiro swallows the acid in his throat at the words, “—we never made it out of town. I drove too fast and caused the accident. I killed you. Don’t you hate me?”
Kojiro has nightmares for years about how Reki would have reacted if he came out alive from the disastrous accident that crippled them all with guilt and irrefutable sadness. But unlike the loathing that haunted Kojiro every night, Reki calmly crosses his arms and hums.
Reki does not shout nor kick him, does not yell at him I should have still been alive if it weren’t for you, does not curse him to hell and back. Reki sits in front of him like he is merely thinking about how to tinker one of his works to make it move.
“Do I hate you because you ‘killed’ me?” Kojiro can almost hear the crashing sound of the accident as Reki stares back at him. He waits with bated breath as Reki speaks in a tone one would use for forgiveness, “I do not.”
Kojiro’s face crumples, his emotions stirring within him like an iron pressing against his side, “Why not?”
“To be honest, I don’t remember much about the accident. I did not even know that there was someone with me when I died.” Reki admits, scratching the back of his head, “Miya only told me about it. That’s why he was searching for the survivor of the accident. But honestly, it’s not your fault. It’s an accident, after all.”
“But you died!” Kojiro cries, “You died, Reki. Because of my reckless driving and—”
“Did you stab me?”
“Well, no, but—”
“Did you pay the driver of the truck to hit me then?”
“What? Of course not!”
“Then, did you drive recklessly that day because you want me dead?”
“How can you say that? I didn’t want you to die. I never did.”
“Then you did not kill me, Joe.” Reki says with finality, “You said it yourself, you never wanted me to die.”
“But… I…”
“Joe, if you were driving recklessly, it must have been because of me. You were always a careful driver so it must have been my egging that forced you to drive that way.” Reki reasons, “And even if it wasn’t and because you were just driving like that, I won’t hate you or blame you. I would have survived if that’s my fate. Joe, I’ll tell you this so you stop killing yourself over it—you did not kill me. You are a good friend even in my most selfish moments and especially, in my last. So, don’t beat yourself up for something we never had control over.”
Kojiro slumps against Miya. Kaoru immediately assists Kojiro, maneuvering him so he can bury his face against his chest. He rubs his back in a soothing circle as Kojiro begins to wail again.
It feels like every day that he spent letting his guilt consume him is for naught. But for the first time in the longest while, a part of Kojiro actually believes that it’s not his fault. He’s so exhausted suddenly that he just kept wailing against Kaoru—relieved and tired and repentant all the same.
“I’m really sorry, Reki.” Reki floats to Kojiro and for a moment, Kojiro could actually feel the warmness of Reki, his arms wrapping around him like he is still alive, “For what’s it worth, I forgive you, Joe. Make sure to take care of Cherry, m’kay?”
When Kojiro calms down again, Reki jabs at him, “And it’s gross seeing you sad. Just do your macho mucho thing and flirt with Cherry. Ack.”
Reki makes a gagging sound. Kojiro punches through Reki’s figure and glares when Reki laughs at him, “Wow, this body is really convenient sometimes.”
“But really…” Kojiro sighs, “I’m really sorry.”
“And I told you, I forgive you.”
“Just like that?”
Kojiro feels like he had barely broken through an ocean’s surface, gasping for breath after being underneath for the past decade. The ache in his chest is lighter but it does not truly disappear.
“Yeah. I’d been dead for ten years and you’d been suffering because of that, right? I will never rest in peace if you all still feel guilty about my death.” Reki says, “It’s nice that you’re sad about it. Makes me feel special, really. And I don’t want anyone of you to forget me. But I don’t want you all to think that you could have done something to prevent my death when it already happened. I just want to see all of you grow old and be happy. And I want to…”
Reki glances at the empty spot next to Kaoru where someone should have been.
“I just want to see Langa again before I go.”
The elephant in the room grows tenfold until they are crushed by its presence. They all know that it wouldn’t give them space anymore if they don’t acknowledge it.
“Langa isn’t in Japan, Reki.” Kojiro finally addresses the elephant in the room and flinches when the brightness in Reki’s eyes dims a little. “I’m going to tell him. I swear. We just want to know that Miya is telling the truth before I send him an email.”
“Miya?” Reki turns to Miya who waves at him with a smug smirk, “I did a good job, huh, Reki?”
“You did.” Kaoru pats Miya’s head affectionately, Miya unconsciously leans to the gentleness but Kojiro grabs the back of his collar before he can climb on Kaoru’s lap.
“Where is Langa, Joe?” Reki inquires quietly. Kojiro looks down, “He is… Langa is in Canada with his parents. We occasionally exchange letters and mails so it’s easy to tell him that we saw you again. I’m sure he’ll come running back the moment he reads the email I’ll send him.”
“Oh.” Reki seems to mull over for a minute as he pauses before grinning again, “At least he is well. I hope. Is he happy? Has he grown taller? Do you have a picture? I—”
Reki deflates like an old balloon, seeming to curl into himself, and then he admits guiltily, “I don’t remember Langa’s face anymore. No matter how I try to remember his face, I can’t seem to picture it. Is that cruel of me?”
“But you remember us?”
“Yeah. I don’t know why. I remember your faces vividly but when I think of Langa, the only thing I know of him is that he has the softest of hair and the most beautiful of eyes.”
They couldn’t stop themselves from smiling a little despite Reki’s words. Reki has always loved Langa’s hair and eyes—he fawns about them all throughout the time that they had known each other.
“I have a photo in my house.” Hiromi says, “It’s just a street away. I’ll get it for you.”
“Really?”
Everyone can see the excitement in Reki’s eyes, bleeding even to the edges of his smile. Hiromi promises to come back as soon as possible after seeing the look on Reki’s face. He hurries to the floor above the flower shop and rummages through the multitude of photo albums and tries to pick the one that will justify Langa’s physique but gives up halfway and decides to take them all.
He returns with seven albums that span from elementary to high school. Reki floats by him in uncontained eagerness, making him hurry in spreading the albums on the blanket.
Reki flips the first album he sees to a page that had long passed him by.
On the glossy paper, he stood beside the younger versions of the three men in front of him. Beside him, a boy with sky for hair and oceans for eyes intertwined their hands innocently, eyes almost blank sans the subtle lightness within them.
Nostalgia washes over Reki. He does not know that he is crying until the tears fall on the plastic protecting the pictures sitting on his lap.
Oh, he thinks, this is Langa. This is the boy he loves so much.
“He’s beautiful.”
Uncertain memories that plagued him for the last ten years suddenly become clearer.
His brain couldn’t stop saying it’s Langa—it’s him, the one you couldn’t let go—the one you waited for. It’s Langa. It’s still Langa. His heart seems to agree with the thoughts running in his mind, thumping loud and fast like heartbeats meant for first love.
And isn’t Langa his?
“He’s so beautiful.”
And his.
And his.
And his.
And his.
“Reki?”
“Thank you.” Reki gasps out, untangling himself from the selfish thought that pierces through, “Thank you for coming back and remembering me. Thank you for making it possible for me to see Langa again.”
Kojiro, Kaoru, Hiromi, and Miya glance at each other before smiling. For the three, it’s like they had finally found a rest stop after journeying for so long. For Miya, as much as he denies it, he is just happy for Reki—and Reki should know how privileged he is for just that. After all, he never wished happiness for other people but himself.
.
.
Nanjo “JOE” Kojiro <[email protected]>
To Langa <>
Hey, Langa.
I know it’s been awhile. But I have something important to tell you. It’s about Reki. I saw Reki’s ghost. I know it sounds ridiculous and crazy but I did. I rewrote this letter many times because I don’t know how to word it and I don’t think I’ll ever find the right words to break it to you.
If you want to see him too, come back here. He’s waiting for you.
Always wishing you to be safe,
JOE
.
.
There is a hole in Langa’s chest that seems to always cave.
He has been carrying it for the last decade. At night, he sleeps with restless bones, his feet chattering him up to stand and wander and before he can even second-guess himself, Langa finds himself outside, wanting. In the morning, he let himself freely journey for as far as he can take his car before his mother comes calling him back.
His days are endlessly played on loop.
The day cycles back to night and the night to morning. And he thinks he has to live with it forever until Reki forgives him—if he forgives him.
“We can accompany you back, Langa.”
But life is arbitrary and no one really knows what tomorrow will bring. If it’s heartbreak or hope, only god knows what the dice will show on its side.
Today, it is hope in the form of Kojiro’s email.
“It’s okay.” Langa adjusts his scarf for the nth time, his hands clammy, “I can do this alone. And you already contacted Joe to take care of me. Not that they should. I’m a grown up, after all.”
“I’m just…” Nanako sighs, “I’m just worried.”
“There’s no need to be.” Langa smiles, “It’s time for me to visit Reki.”
“Are you going to be okay?”
Langa isn’t sure. Reki could fully hate him and maybe, he doesn’t want to see him again. If that’s how it is, ‘okay’ isn’t the right answer. He will be devastated. But at least, he can see Reki again.
“I’m going to be.”
Nanako cups Langa’s cheeks tenderly, “Call when you need something. I’ll always be by the phone. Don’t forget to drink the medicine prescribed to you, okay? Eat healthily while you’re there. I already sent Joe the list of food that you should be eating. Sleep early and don’t wander around too much.”
“I know. I know.” Langa fixes the scarf once again, it feels too constricting somewhat, “I am also going to visit Auntie first. It is thanks to her that I still know how Reki is fairing.”
Nanako flinches, turning away from him, “Yeah. I told Masae that you’re going to visit them. Tell them… tell them that I’m sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing, Mom?”
“Ah, well,” Nanako rubs her arm, “she’ll know when you tell her.”
“I see.” Langa eventually removes the scarf around his neck, “Then I’ll be going.”
Langa boards his plane as soon as it announces its departure. He settles next to the window and smiles to himself as they fly across continents, the black velvet box in the pocket of his coat feels heavy with the nervousness he feels.
It’s been a decade since. But Reki has finally shown himself again.
He’s finally cured.
He leans against the window and closes his eyes, letting the plane take him back to the land that is littered with the most precious memories of his life.
.
.
They were six and Reki thinks Langa has the most beautiful eyes.
Maybe, it’s just the blue scarf that sat prettily around his neck that brings out the color of his eyes more. Reki wonders aloud if Langa isn’t hot at all. Okinawa is at its summer peak and the heat has made everyone wearing the thinnest of clothes but—
Langa shakes his head, his hair swaying around just to fall and frame his face, and says with his high pitched voice, “Not at all.”
“Oh.” Reki breathes out like he understands. But he doesn’t so he prods, “Why?”
“Just because. I also like this scarf.” Langa unwraps his scarf finally and somehow Reki susses that Langa’s eyes are naturally pretty.
So, it wasn’t the scarf at all.
“Wrap it again!” Reki is six and he doesn’t know why his heart has skipped a beat at Langa’s tiniest actions. In his folly, he chalks it up to the summer heat, “You look cool with it. Like a hero!”
“Do you like heroes?” Langa asks with a tilt of his head. He scrunches the scarf in his hands before wrapping it around his pretty neck.
Reki nods enthusiastically, “I do! Don’t you?”
“Erm…” Langa pauses before a gleam shines in his eyes, “I do too. I like the Red Ranger.”
Oh, so the scarf makes his eyes even prettier.
Reki grins, “Me too.”
And before Reki loses his confidence, he adds, “Do you want to come into my house to watch it? I’m Kyan Reki, by the way. And oh, you said you like Red Ranger, right? I built this awesome replica of Red Ranger, let’s go play with it after to defeat the evil villains.”
Langa smiles and oh, the heat is really making his heart wriggle uncomfortably.
“Sure! I’ll tell Mom.” Langa pauses, “And I’m Hasegawa Langa. I’ll be your neighbor from now on.”
Reki suddenly remembers why he left the safety of his house and came running out at the blare of the truck carrying furniture to the house next door. Reki grins even more.
“That’s great! I always wanted to have a new neighbor. Our old one is a scary uncle who likes to argue with Pops.”
They talk under the bluest of sky, the sweltering heat urging them to hide under a roof. And before Reki notices it, summer has gone by and every day he spends it with his new friend.
.
At eight, Reki punched another kid.
Reki and Langa were minding their own business when Reki heard children laughing. And when children his age laugh, sometimes they do it for craps. So, Reki runs to the park with Langa in tow and sees an orange-haired boy bawling his eyes out as three friends point at him.
Reki does not know who threw the first punch but it was chaos thereafter. The leader of the kid running away with his cronies as he waves his fist at them.
Hiromi was lanky and shorter than them. But he was ten.
“You shouldn’t let them beat you up like that.” Reki tsk’ed, “You’re older than us but you get bullied. That’s so lame.”
“Reki…” Langa flicks his temple even as he stares at Hiromi with the similar expression that Reki wore. His right cheek is cut from the scratch made of their enemies but Langa wore it like a badge of honor because it’s a scratch made for fighting alongside Reki.
Hiromi feels his lips wobble again but he glares at them, “I’m… I’m not lame.”
Reki looks at Hiromi before grinning, “If you become our friend then you won’t be.”
Later, when they returned home, Langa’s mom fretted over him but Langa only accepted the bandage that matches Reki’s.
.
Reki has always been so good with making friends. Langa knows this. He does not complain when he inserted Hiromi or Joe (whom they met when they were climbing trees and Reki fell and should have plummeted to death but thanks to Joe, he didn’t) or Cherry (whose sharp personality contrast Joe’s but Joe said he means well so they brought him along their silly adventures) in their lives. Reki’s happiness is his happiness.
It’s just that sometimes, Langa wants to have Reki all to himself. It’s a thought that gripes at him every night. Selfish thoughts that suppurates on his skin that he manifests by clinging unto Reki even tighter.
They were children and children were supposed to be selfish. Greedy and confused and always wanting more.
Langa seems to know that he tends to exaggerate such negative traits when it comes to Reki.
At eleven, Langa weaves together the reasons for this phenomenon.
Girls talk a lot. It’s a little bit annoying. But sometimes they make sense out of their ridiculous ideals and giggles.
It was a dull afternoon. Their class was left with free period because of an emergency faculty meeting so their classmates were just chattering on and on. Reki is sleeping on his table because he has been up all night trying to take care of his newborn sisters with his mother and tinkering with his newest ‘baby’—a little lamp that lights up when you soak it under sunlight.
Langa entertains himself by looking at Reki and daydreaming about growing old with Reki, following Reki all throughout his life—and isn’t that the goal? To be always by Reki’s side and spend every hour together and—
But isn’t it strange though?
Langa does not dwell on how odd it is. Because it isn’t for him. That’s the strange part, perhaps. It should be peculiar but it’s just so normal for him to think about a future with Reki.
A future without Reki—now that’s an odd one.
“Do you think you will marry him someday?” A girl to his left giggles at her friend. The said friend blushes, “We will because we love each other.”
“That’s so cute, Kiyocchi!” The girl gushes.
“I know!” Kiyocchi beams, “I can’t live without him. That’s why I’m going to marry Ryuu someday.”
This catches Langa’s attention. Turning to the two girls, he asks, “When you cannot live without a certain someone, it means you love them and you have to marry them?”
The two glance at each other, startled from being talked to by Langa (it’s unfair how popular you are, Langa! I’m cute too), before breaking into twin grins. They don’t answer his query, much to Langa’s annoyance, but between their ‘do you love someone, Langa-kun?’ and ‘she must be very pretty if Langa-kun likes her!’, Langa zones in (after tuning them out) to the important pieces.
Does she make your heart beat crazy?
But also you feel so safe around her?
Is she the first one in your mind?
And—oh!—oh, is she the last as well?
Do you always want to be together with her?
And never ever let her go?
Langa buries his face on his arms, his face burning and for the first time he realizes that his face is red not because of the Okinawa heat but because for every ridiculous yes-no question they sputter, his mind just wholeheartedly agrees.
Langa smiles to himself despite the hotness that rose on his cheeks.
It’s somehow the most plausible answer.
Langa loves Reki.
That’s not a surprise. He loves Reki since they were kids, running around in the Kyan’s backyard or sleeping in the same futon so ghosts won’t visit them at night. That’s what friends do too.
But his kind of love—something that he never thought is the answer—is different. The good kind of different. The kind of different that makes sense. The kind of different that unravels every knot of confusion and straightens them out to give him the very answer he had been seeking since he saw Reki for the first time.
Langa loves Reki.
It feels right to just think of it.
Maybe, one of these days, he will say it out loud to Reki. And perhaps, Reki will say it back.
.
“Uh-oh. It seems that someone is confessing to Langa again.” Kojiro teases as he leans on the rail of the rooftop.
“I guess so.” Despite his nonchalant reply, his face is marred with something nasty that Kojiro whistled almost jeeringly, “Wipe that expression off you, Reki. You get ugly when you’re jealous.”
“Shut up.” Reki pushes him off and returns his attention to the ground.
Langa and the girl are talking but they were far up high to hear the two. But Reki knows that the girl is probably blushing, something that is so stupidly typical that he can’t help but sneer.
Langa will reject the girl.
Reki predicts this because it’s the usual aftermath of confessing to Langa. Girls are unbelievably resilient and brave. They know very well that they don’t have any chances with Langa but they still try.
Langa will break their hearts and he will not even care. Because Langa is not interested in romance or trivial stuff like that. In five minutes, Langa will climb up the stairs to the rooftop of their school and like it’s the most normal thing to do after breaking someone’s heart, Langa will continue to eat lunch with him.
They’re already fourteen and girls should have known better that Langa will not think of dating them.
“Seriously, Reki, if you like Langa that much, why don’t you try confessing?” Kojiro sighs, stuffs his face with the bread he bought from the High School Department cafeteria. Reki jabs at him, “Shut up. I don’t think someone who isn’t confessing to a certain Cherry gets the privilege to be condescending on this matter.”
“Hey! That’s low!”
“Not as much as your chicken-level courage to Cherry!”
Kojiro smacks Reki which Reki returns with a harder force. They exchange jesting blows until they both collapse on the floor with a disheartened sigh.
“Well, I think you should tell Cherry about it, Joe. You’ll never know if you don’t ever try.”
“Same goes to you, buddy.” Kojiro replies, “But you know it’s going to be hard, right? If they both don’t return our feelings and get disgusted… I really don’t know what to do.”
“Well, I guess, we should just die.”
Kojiro chuckles, “Yeah, right. Because dying is the ultimate solution to solving a problem.”
Just as Reki was about to rebut, the door to the rooftop opens and Langa, Kaoru, and Hiromi enter their special space. Kaoru berates Kojiro for always coming to the Middle School Department but Kojiro only teases him back for following him anyway because he ‘doesn’t have friends but this magnificent hunk and oh, these buncha kids’.
Hiromi has settled nicely between Kojiro and Langa. And Langa sat in his usual place, beside Reki.
Reki does not ask about the confession and Langa doesn’t say anything about it—like it’s already been forgotten. Instead, Langa opens his bento, scoops out the tamagoyaki and offers it to Reki.
And of course, Reki, lovefool that he is, accepts it graciously.
This is how it goes. The normal routine they imbued in their lives. But for how long will Reki settle for this?
Reki understands that his feelings aren’t socially acceptable. Reki is a growing boy. And perhaps, puberty is just hitting him differently. But Reki has always loved Langa’s everything since they were young.
He has always been fascinated by Langa. And puberty is only worsening the feelings he holds for his best friend.
If he says anything, will something shift in a good way or will everything just break apart?
Reki ponders over this for the past years or so. He can’t sleep. He is always restless nowadays. Everything that he is, is always calling for Langa.
Maybe, it’s time.
And if it falls to pieces, Reki will just have to work hard to mend their friendship.
Langa will forgive him. Because Langa isn’t the type to dwell on trivial stuff like romances and because Langa always seems to drift back to him after a confession, so perhaps, it will be the same. Langa will put his own confession at the back of his mind and then they will just be friends again.
Such reckless thought had him knocking on Langa’s window at night. So, maybe, it’s really thoughtless but Reki just wants to have a good night sleep for the first time in years and if confessing to Langa will do it then so be it.
“What are you doing, Reki?” Langa yawns as he opens the window. Reki waves at him with a bright grin, “Hey, Langa. Walk with me?”
He doesn’t need to ask twice, Langa is already trying to climb out his room’s window.
“Use the door, Langa!” Reki shrieks in a low tone, “I’ll wait for you in front.”
Langa follows Reki’s advice and after a quick minute, he opens their front door in his pajamas, pulls Reki to a hug, and settles nicely in Reki’s warmth. Reki scolds Langa’s skinship despite wrapping his arms around the taller boy in response.
They go to the park. They didn’t mean to and Reki does not have a particular destination in mind. When they came to their senses, they were already in front of the apricot tree.
“Were you up building something again, Reki?”
Reki leans on the tree, “Not really. I just couldn’t sleep.”
“Why? Something on your mind?”
The diameter of the apricot tree is big. They can both sit on either side but Langa chose to claim the spot next to Reki without sparing any spaces. Langa drops his head on Reki’s as he asks his question.
Reki does not push him away despite the loud frantic beating in his chest.
“You know that Joe likes Cherry, right?” Sorry, Joe, Reki thinks without remorse, “He likes him in a way that normal guys do with girls.”
“Like kissing and stuff?”
“Yeah, like kissing and stuff.”
“What about it?”
Reki unconsciously inclines his body more to Langa, “What do you think about it? Are you weirded out with it?”
Langa hums and Reki feels Langa nuzzles him before he says, “Not really. Why would I?”
His answer makes him retract himself from Langa. His cheeks are burning and his chest is ballooning and there’s a pounding in his ears that seems to cheer loudly.
“Really?” Reki closes in on Langa, their faces mere inches, “You don’t think it’s gross or anything? Really-really?”
“Reki, why would I be weirded out if I…” Langa trails off, ocean blue eyes setting low as his gaze pins on Reki’s lips. Reki watches this with fascination, sussing out the tangled knots and oh, this is what Langa means, how could Reki be so blind to it?
“Can I ki—”
Langa does not finish his question as Reki dives in. Their lips collide awkwardly, all teeth and lesser lips. Reki pulls away for a second to apologize but Langa’s flushed surprised face rips a roar of laughter from his throat.
“Wow. Sorry about that.” Reki wipes a tear from his laughter, “I really thought it would be like the movies but—”
“Reki,” Langa breathes closely, “kiss me again.”
“But wasn’t it gross?”
“Of course not! So, kiss me again.”
Reki sighs fondly before kissing Langa once more.
“Again.”
And another.
“Again”
And another.
“Again, Reki.”
Until Langa doesn’t need to demand for more.
It wasn’t until the sky turned a lighter shade of violet that Reki had the ability to collect himself again. He pushes Langa off him despite Langa’s droning protest. Reki offers Langa a hand, “Let’s go.”
Langa stares at it before grabbing, his smile consuming the spaces of his handsome face, “Yeah.”
They were about to leave when Langa pauses, “Wait, Reki.”
“What is it?”
Langa rubs Reki’s ring finger thoughtfully.
“Does this mean we will get married?”
“Mar-marriage?”
“Yeah. I heard you marry the one you love.” Langa grins, “So, we will marry each other when we grow up, right?”
Heat rises on Reki’s face but he nods, swept with the exhilaration of their activity, “Sure.”
“And we will stay together forever, right?” Langa leans, “Right?”
“Sure…” Reki flushes even more at the enthusiasm Langa displays, smiling fondly at Langa, “It’s a promise.”
“It’s a promise!” Langa pulls Reki to him, “Let’s write it on the apricot tree since it’s a witness to our oath.”
They seek to find a sharp stone to write a crooked heart with L+R 4ever on the trunk of the apricot tree. They giggle at their silliness but there’s a warmth spreading in both their chest as their hands intertwine.
“Hey, Reki.”
“Hmm?”
“I love you infinitely.”
Reki chuckles, leaning in again, “I love you infinitely too.”
Someday, they’ll return to shape a proper heart and engrave their names for everyone to know.
They have all the time in the world to do so.
.
“Wow, Langa. This looks so pretty.”
Reki marvels at the photo taken by Langa. It was him jumping over a creek on their recent hike last Saturday. He never had a flattering picture of himself in action—he has to always stay still but Langa took it so effortlessly.
“It’s pretty because it’s you, Reki.”
“Langa, shucks, stop.” Reki blushes at the compliment that Langa always readily prepares, “But seriously, you have so much talent with a camera. How come you didn’t join our school’s Photography Club?”
“You’re not in there.” Langa pouts, “I want to be where you are. Together forever, right?”
“Stop being cheesy!” Reki whines with a grin, heart aflutter with Langa’s logic. Langa leans in to kiss him and he receives it graciously, “You should start taking more pictures.”
“Would you love it?”
“Yeah, I really would.”
Langa takes the camera nestled on his lap before pushing Reki onto the bed. He kisses Reki without warning until Reki is a panting mess, pulling away with a cheeky grin as he takes successive photos of Reki.
“Langa!”
Langa dodges Reki’s grabby hands expertly, clicking away at his camera as they laugh around in Langa’s room until the giggles weren’t mere giggles and the flushes on their cheeks weren’t from running around anymore.
The camera sat on Langa’s desk, a silent witness to the passage of boys growing up.
.
“Was that Ainosuke-senpai?”
Reki furrows his brows as Langa waves politely at Ainosuke. Langa nods, “Yeah, I met him when I was dawdling in front of the Photography Club.”
“Oh…” Reki twines his fingers together, “And why were you in front of the Photography Club?”
“Well, you said you like my pictures.” Langa smiles at him, “So, I will try my best to learn everything about photography.”
“Because of me?” Reki’s lips twitch. Langa nods, “It’s always because of you.”
“Okay then.” Reki looks left and right before hooking his arms with Langa’s, “But I don’t like you hanging out with that weird guy. You know that he used to be Cherry and Joe’s friends but something fishy definitely happened with that guy.”
“Are you jealous?” Langa is amused but Reki only sticks his tongue out, “Should I be?”
“Of course not.”
Reki grins, “I know because you love me infinitely.”
.
“You’re going to a retreat with the Photography Club?” Reki frowns, “But isn’t Ainosuke-senpai in that club? Is he going to attend?”
“I think so. He’s the president, after all.”
Reki looks at the enthusiastic way Langa’s eyes sparkle. A twinge pricks Reki’s chest as his frown deepens.
“It’s the first time I’m going to a retreat for a club and—”
“I don’t want you to.”
Reki flinches when his thought warbles its way out of his tongue.
“Huh?” Langa looks at him in surprise. Reki looks away, “I said I don’t want you to go. Ainosuke-senpai is weird and he keeps on calling you out of nowhere and god knows what will happen if you go into a secluded area with him.”
“Reki, are you suspecting me?”
“Not you.” Reki grits out, “I trust you with all my heart, Langa. But not that guy.”
“Reki, Ainousuke-senpai is nice. He won’t do anything to me. He knows that we’re dating.”
“What?” Langa reels at the angry shout Reki lets out, “He knows? Did you tell him?”
“I… I must have? Or it got really obvious when the photos I kept submitting to the club are photos of you.” Langa stutters hurriedly, “He was the one to advise me to change subjects so it won’t be too obvious.”
“Langa, this is dangerous.” Reki grimaces, “He can make you do things from this information alone.”
“Reki,” Langa chuckles, “you’re exaggerating too much. Ainosuke-senpai won’t do anything like that. The retreat is only—”
“No.” Reki put his foot down, “I don’t want you to.”
“But the pictures taken in the retreat will be displayed in an exhi—”
“I said no!” Reki lashes, his eyes burning, an acidic lead weighing heavy like an anchor on his ankles, “Promise me that you won’t go, okay?”
“Reki…” When Reki refuses to look at him, Langa puts the camera on top of his drawer, sits beside him, and says, “Okay, Reki. I won’t go. I promise.”
.
“You won’t go?” Ainosuke raises a brow, “Is this because of Reki-kun?”
“More or less.” Langa sighs, “But that’s what Reki wants.”
“But what do you want?” Ainosuke tilts his head, “Are you going to follow what Reki-kun wants forever?”
Langa does not even hesitate, “Of course.”
“Hmm.” Ainosuke hums as he watches Langa’s resolve manifesting on his face before smiling, “Reki loves your photos, though. One of the requirements to post something in the exhibit is by attending the retreat. And I saw that you captured a photo of Reki so beautifully, Langa-kun. Don’t you want to surprise him?”
“I…”
“Plus, I heard the retreat will coincide with the retreat of the Science Club. You just have to ensure that Reki does not find out.”
“But that’s lying to—”
“Langa-kun,” Ainosuke cuts, “It’s not lying if it’s for a surprise. Do you really wish to hide Reki forever? What you have with him is certainly lovely.”
Langa purses his lips.
That’s right. He has no qualms telling the whole world about Reki. If it’s even just through art, everyone will eventually understand that it’s not a bad thing at all.
“Okay.” Langa smiles, “If it’s for Reki, I’ll do anything.”
Ainosuke returns the grin, “Good choice, Langa-kun.”
.
They had been very careful.
Reki is sure of it.
In the last three years that they dated, Reki ensured that their relationship is kept a secret to anyone that is not their closest friend. It isn’t even hard to do so. Langa has always been clingy and Reki has always been receptive to Langa’s skinship. The only thing different with Langa’s clinginess is that Reki has to put more effort on drawing a definite line when they’re in public.
That’s why Reki is sure that he protected their relationship with utmost care. If he didn’t then something like this would have happened long ago.
FAG!
UGLY FAG!
DIE!
DISGUSTING HOMO
Reki breathes shakily.
He hears his classmates’ whispers and the boys’ sniggers. There is nothing in the world that he wants more than to punch them but Reki holds himself. He doesn’t run to the class three doors away to see if Langa is harmed as well.
Instead, he sits quietly at his table and ignores their laughter.
He wonders if he had just told a teacher that day, would anything be different?
But he has no time to wonder. He’s busy keeping himself afloat in spite of his childish classmates’ bullying while making sure that Langa is safe. Thankfully, they don’t harm Langa—or rather they don’t know that Langa is the same as he is.
It’s only through gossiping mouths that he finds out how the rumors of him being gay started.
He is about to go to the rooftop when he passes by two guys he was close to before. They were snickering to themselves (like immature guys going through the wheels of puberty) but when Nagi nudges Kotaro, Kotaro makes a noise of repulsion.
“Dude, yuck! Stop touching me like that.”
“What the fuck, Kotaro? Do you think I’m a fag too like Kyan?” Nagi gags, “I don’t go kissing around guys in the park in the middle of the night like that fucker. Have you seen that picture? He looks like he was having the time of his life. Disgusting faggot.”
Oh. Reki bites his lips as he speeds past them, that’s how. But then his mind whirls a repetitive anxious thought of what picture? What picture? What picture?
“Hey, homo!”
Reki doesn’t stop at the call but the two are persistent. Out of the blue, Nagi grabs his arm and swings a fist at him. Reki grunts at the impact and groans at the kick he receives from Kotaro.
Reki curls into himself and pretends that his tears are for the pain instead of the relief washing over him.
At the very least, they didn’t see that it was Langa he was kissing that day—whatever day that is anyway.
.
“How long?”
Anger is an understatement for what Langa feels. Reki sees the redness of Langa’s cheeks, the slant of his glare, the flaring of his nose—Langa is livid.
Reki sits obediently on the infirmary bed as Langa examines his injuries. His gentle hands bring him reprieve more than the bandages that the doctor wrapped him with.
“A month?” Reki deduces.
He hasn’t been counting it. He doesn’t need to.
“A month?” Langa parrots, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t want you to be worried.”
“You don’t want me to be worried…” Langa repeats with incredulity, “Do you think I won’t find out eventually? Reki, look at this.”
Langa gestures to his injuries, “If this didn’t happen today, I don’t know what worse event would eventually tell me about your predicament. You have to tell me important things like this. Reki, we promised to tell each other everything.”
“Langa, really…” Reki sighs before rearranging his thoughts, “I’m sorry.”
“You should be.” Langa sits at the edge of the bed, holding Reki’s cheeks, “Why wouldn’t you?”
“I don’t want you to get involved and get hurt.”
“So you got yourself hurt in my place?” Langa sighs in frustration, “I don’t like that. Please, Reki, just tell me everything.”
Reki looks at Langa’s face before pulling him into a hug, “Yeah, I will.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
.
The bullying dies down a little thanks to his friends. Kojiro and Kaoru glares at everyone who even tries to harm him and Hiromi is a great tattletale. Langa did not leave his side for a moment until the day before club retreats were scheduled.
It was a little strange but Reki was so busy with prepping for an out-of-school contest that he forgot to tell Langa that he wasn’t going to attend the retreat anymore.
Reki supposed that he should tell him today.
“Hi, Auntie!” Reki greets as he enters Langa’s house. Nanako kisses his cheeks as she always does whenever she greets him, a habit that Langa picked up from her, “Reki, it’s nice to see you. Why’d you drop by when Langa isn’t here? Is it because of me? Did you miss me?”
“Langa isn’t here?” Reki furrows his brow. Nanako cocks her head, “Didn’t Langa tell you that he was going to a retreat with his club?”
“Retreat…?” A piercing ache stabs his chest but Reki does not let it mar his face too noticeably. He grins, albeit wobbly, “Oh, yeah, that! I forgot. Silly me.”
“I thought that you’re going with your club to a retreat as well, Reki?” Nanako fixes a snack as Reki lingers by the kitchen.
“I… uh, I decided not to go.” Not that he has a choice anyway, Masaki-senpai, their president, forced him not to attend the retreat. Reki waves an immediate farewell when Nanako looks at him with concerns, “I gotta go, Auntie! I, uh, have something, uh, somewhere to go to.”
Reki runs to the park. His heart is beating loudly and he feels like he is about to retch but it wasn’t from running too fast or too hard. His cheeks are wet from crying.
Langa went to the retreat. Langa went to the retreat. Langa went to the retreat. Langa went to the retreat. Langa went to the retreat. Langa went to the retreat. Langa went to the retreat. Langa went to the retreat. Langa went to the retreat. Langa went to the retreat. Langa went to the retreat. Langa went to the retreat.
Reki falls to his knees by the apricot tree.
But what about their promise?
This is the first time that Langa lied to him, that he broke his promise. All for the Photography Club? Reki shakes his head. No, all for that Ainosuke guy.
In hindsight, it isn’t surprising at all. Langa seems to be much livelier after getting into the club. Was it Ainosuke? Does Langa—stop, stop, Reki, stop thinking.
But what if—
Reki wipes his tears away and steady his breathing. He goes to a thankfully empty phone booth and punches in a message for Langa. If he is correct, then the inn that Langa will stay with Ainosuke has a phone booth as well.
He’ll reply soon.
He will.
Langa always does.
How are you with Auntie? I miss you. I love you infinitely.
It takes two days for Reki to read through Langa’s lie.
We’re fine, Reki. I miss you and I love you infinitely too. See you soon when you get back.
Reki throws his beeper at the ground.
It’s so stifling to be in his room. It smells like misery. Reki hates it. He hates it. He hates it. He hates, hates, hates, hates it.
“Pathetic.” Reki looks at the reflection he sees on the mirror that hangs on the opposite wall of his bed. His red-rimmed eyes, puffed and gross from crying too often, his dry lips, his disheveled hair, his everything.
Why would Langa still keep his oaths over such an ugly thing?
Pathetic!
Fag!
Ugly Fag!
Die!
Just die!
Disgusting homo!
DISGUSTING!
PATHETIC!
FAG!
UGLY!
UGLY FAG!
DIE!
JUST DIE!
JUST DIE!
Reki slips out of his window and runs. But the park, the one where Langa and him always slip to at night, does not bring him comfort. It only aggrevates the tightness in his chest. The apricot tree stands dully in front of him, like a mocking reminder, like a schema to a big joke Reki detests.
He turns around and runs aimlessly until his feet have brought him to his friend’s house.
“Joe!” Reki knocks loudly until Kojiro peeks out of his window with an annoyed expression. He doesn’t get to curse him as Kojiro sees the devastation wracking his face.
“Reki, what happened?” Kojiro says as soon as he opens the door. Reki’s lips tremble, “Can you drive me out of this town for a moment?”
“Huh, why?”
“Please…” Reki pleads, his cheeks already wet again, “I just really, really, really want to be anywhere but here.”
“We can talk inside and…”
“Please, Joe.” The crack in Reki’s voice paralyzes Kojiro. It’s the first time that he sees Reki cry.
Kojiro takes the car keys on the table next to the door. His father will just have to commute for a bit to his work. He needs to get Reki out of town for a day.
They were on the main road when Kojiro began his questions, tentative and low, “Why were you crying, Reki?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Nothing?” Kojiro raises his brow, “Nothing but you’re crying like that?”
“Kojiro, please.”
“Reki, you know that we’re here for you. Me, Kaoru, Hiromi, and Langa—”
At Langa’s name, Reki lets out a bitter chuckle, his eyes watering once more, “I know. I know that you’re all here for me. You’re all amazing. I know. I know.”
“Reki…” Kojiro sighs, “Are you okay?”
“Yes. I’m okay. I’m pretty dang fine. I am so alright.” Reki titters. Kojiro frowns, “Please talk to me. I’ll listen.”
“Joe, please just drive.” Reki presses his palms against his eyes, “Just drive faster. Just get me out of here faster, Joe.”
“No, I think we should—”
“Drive. Just drive, Joe! Please!”
“Reki, we should—”
“Please! I just want to get out of here for a bit. I just want to be away to think. So, please, Joe. Please, I’m begging you.”
Kojiro’s heart sank as Reki miserably curled up on the seat next to him. Against his better judgment, he accelerates and accelerates until Reki seems to be breathing evenly the farther they move.
But if only he listened to his guts that day.
If only.
If only.
If only.
.
.
“WATCH OUT!”
.
.
“Doctor, his heart rate is falling. Prepare for—”
“CLEAR!”
“Re…ki…”
.
.
The Okinawa sky is as blue as Langa remembers it to be. He compares it to the picture he took in high school. Reki’s smiling face is as bright as the sun lighting up the sky and oh, how he misses this.
“Langa!”
Langa turns around to see Kojiro, Kaoru, and Hiromi. He smiles politely at them, “It’s been a long time, guys, Nice to see you again.”
Hiromi is the first to answer him back with a tight hug.
“Too tight!” Langa squeaks out as Hiromi lets him go. Kaoru and Kojiro hug him respectively, with Kojiro being as tight as Hiromi’s.
“You have grown taller.” Kaoru commented as he arches his nape a tad to see his face, “Must be the Canadian blood, huh.”
Langa chuckles, “Yeah, Mom cried a little when I didn’t stop growing at college. She thought that I’ll be a giant.”
“I’m really glad to see you again, Langa.” Kojiro remarks once again in the midst of the conversation of the two. Hiromi helps Langa with his luggage as they walk out of the airport.
Langa smiles, “It’s good to be back too. It’s been so long since I had last been here.”
They enter Kojiro’s car and drive away to Kojiro and Kaoru’s home. It’s a large traditional house that his eyes largen in awe, “I can’t believe that you live here, Kojiro. Kaoru fits more in this kind of house.”
“Hey!” Kojiro hits Langa’s shoulder lightly, “You sound more and more…”
“More and more?”
“Ah, nothing. Let’s go inside. Someone is waiting for you.”
Langa’s eyes brighten even more. He grips the black box in his coat and runs inside as soon as Kaoru opens the door. Hiromi grumbles at him for leaving him with his luggage.
“Reki!”
The three stop at Langa’s exclamation. They look at each other and race just to see the enthusiasm on Langa’s face dwindle and Miya awkwardly waving at Langa.
“Hi?”
“That’s not Reki.” Langa turns to the three in confusion. Hiromi scratches the back of his head, “Of course not, you fool.”
“That’s Chinen Miya.” Kaoru interferes, “He’s the one who led us to Reki.”
“Oh, I see. Nice to meet you.” Langa politely bows and then adds, “Can you take me to Reki too?”
“Err… I can but…” Miya glances at the adults behind Langa, “I just came here to greet you. You were in a really long ride. Perhaps, you should rest first.”
“But—”
“Miya is right.” Miya brightens at Kaoru’s comment. Langa frowns, “But Reki is—”
“Reki said that he will wait until you are fully rested.”
Langa relaxes at the words, obediently sitting across Miya as Kojiro pushes him to.
“Okay, if Reki says so.”
Miya reintroduces himself as does Langa. Langa stares at him curiously before carelessly remarking, “I didn’t know that Kaoru and Kojiro would adopt someone this old.”
Kojiro sputters, “What? We didn’t adopt that kid.”
“You didn’t?”
Hiromi laughs at him, “Langa, man, you still are a weird kid.”
“I could be!” Miya cuts in, “Kaoru can adopt me. He can be my Mama. But I don’t need a dad so Kojiro-san can leave us be.”
“Hey!” Kojiro smacks Miya’s head but earns a hit from Kaoru’s fan almost immediately. Kojiro glares at Kaoru, “Are you taking that kid’s side?”
“This kid is just teasing, you stupid gorilla.” Kaoru places snacks on the table, “Don’t be immature. And Langa, we would have invited you sooner if we did adopt someone. You are part of our little family, you know.”
“Ah.” Langa flounders, his cheeks tinted pink in joy, “I know.”
They talk like time isn’t an issue, exchanging pleasantries and stories that they hadn’t yet told each other in the last ten years that they were apart. Miya listens attentively and actively comments once in a while, teasing Hiromi when he hears how ‘utterly lame’ he was back then. But he was most fascinated with Langa’s past.
In most of Langa’s reminisces, Reki comes up too often—even when he was in Canada. It’s a little bit confusing for some of his phrases and sentences but Miya sees how obviously enamored Langa is with Reki.
Miya bets that it will be a heartbreaking farewell between the two.
“Do you like him?” Kaoru asks as they wash the dishes together. Langa has long retired to sleep so he can go to Reki tomorrow and Kojiro and Hiromi are still drinking in the drawing room.
“He’s not bad.” Miya remarks, “I’m glad that he still loves Reki as much as Reki loves him. Because if not I will trip him everytime he takes a step.”
Kaoru chuckles at him, “You’re a good friend, Miya.”
“I am?”
“Yes. If you were born a little earlier, you would have probably befriended all of us too.” Kaoru wipes his hands on the apron and pokes Miya’s temple, “Reki told me that you don’t have any friends at school. So, you can come here whenever you want and when you gain a friend, you can come with them here too.”
Miya nods, hiding a grin.
“Y-yeah. Okay. Not that I want a friend my age. They're a bunch of idiots.”
Kaoru only chuckles in reply.
.
“Before I go to Reki, I’m dropping by Auntie’s first. Mom and I want to say hi.” Langa says during breakfast the next day.
Kojiro pauses. It has been over a month since they moved back but he has yet visited Reki’s family. He still cannot muster the courage to.
“I see.” Kojiro glances at Kaoru, who merely continues to eat, “Should I drive you there?”
“No, it’s okay. I still know where they live.” Langa refuses, “We’d been in contact for the last ten years after all.”
I see is what Kojiro is about to say again because he doesn’t know how to go about such information. He thought that Langa actually cut ties after leaving so hastily years ago. But, apparently, Langa stayed in contact. It’s not an odd thing, at all. Langa is like a son to the Kyan family.
“Are you going to be okay though?” Kaoru dabs at his lips with a napkin as he points out, “It’s the first time in years since you’ll see them.”
Kaoru’s concern is justifiable. Reki and his sisters are the spitting image of their mother. Just the faces of them could spiral out a trauma. That’s what happened to Kojiro—why they had to leave; because it’s too much for Kojiro to see them constantly and be reminded how their lively eyes weren’t Reki’s.
It will be worse for Langa, Kaoru wagers.
“You’re being too dotting, Cherry.” Langa snorts, “Of course, I’ll be okay. It’s just Reki’s family.”
Kaoru raises a brow at Langa’s blasé reaction.
“Un.” Kaoru grunts in response, “If you say so. Come back before it gets dark. If you don’t know your way, call us or Hiromi.”
Langa takes his advice with a misplaced roll of his eyes, commenting under his breath how motherly Kaoru had become, so much that he even sounds like his mother. Kaoru strikes him lightly on the head as they bid farewell.
“Isn’t Langa a bit strange?” Once Langa was out, Kojiro finally airs out the oddity. Kaoru nods, “He is a bit…”
But he doesn’t finish his words because even he is affronted by it.
Shaking his head, he pulls Kojiro by the hand, “It’s time to prepare for the opening of the restaurant. We shouldn’t waste any more seconds.”
“Yes, darling.”
.
The house has not changed much. It’s still the same as he remembers it to be. Langa compares it to the picture he has with him. It’s as if the house has not been touched by time at all.
Langa knocks at the door the way he does before. Three successive knocks that are light but loud.
The door opens immediately to Reki’s mother, whose face is as gentle as always. Langa leans in to kiss the cheeks of his ‘aunt’, “It’s been a long time, Auntie.”
“Langa!”
Masae exclaims, her eyes widening and watering. She cups his face gently, turning it left and right before she tugs him to a loving embrace, “It is you, Langa. You’ve grown so much. I’m so happy.”
“I know you would say that. You measured our heights when we were young so you would know how tall I have become.” Langa laughs softly.
Masae winces at his words but she immediately arranges her smile once again, ushering the man into their home.
“Oh, Auntie, Mom says she’s really sorry. She didn’t tell me why but she said you’ll know?” Langa finishes unsurely.
Masae pats his back like a mother would to a son, soothing and kind, “Tell her it’s okay. It really is. But that I’m… I’m really sorry too.”
“What for?”
“She knows what it’s for.”
Langa chuckles, “It looks like you two have a secret language of your own, Auntie.”
Masae stares at the back of Langa. It has grown larger, a mark of being a man, a reminder that Langa’s body has grown with time. Masae takes a stumbling breath before following Langa into the house, “It's an adult thing, I guess.”
Langa nods at her words absentmindedly while he looks around.
“Where are Koyomi-chan, Nana, and Chichi?”
“They’re out with their friends and Koyomi has moved out already.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, she got married last summer. We extended an invitation but I guess it got lost in the mail?”
Langa frowns, “It probably did. It happens a lot with Reki’s letters.”
Masae tenses, “Uh, right, right. It’s a good thing that some got to you, huh?”
“Yeah. His handwriting got better too. Maybe it’s all because of the therapy.” Langa sits on his usual seat and Masae places a bowl of cookies for him to nibble on. “Thanks, Auntie.”
“Hmm. It is.” Masae sips on her water to unclog the ball forming in her throat, “It’s unfortunate that I or Reki does not know how to use a computer. It would have been easier, wouldn’t it?”
“It’s okay. I prefer reading Reki’s handwritten letters.” Langa smiles toothily, “He seems more genial in the letters. But I hope he does not hate me too much.”
Masae reaches for Langa’s hand and holds it with hers, “He will never hate you. I’m sure of it.”
“I hope so, Auntie.” Langa’s smile subdues like the sky brimming with grey clouds, “I left him here while he recuperates.”
“It’s not your fault, Langa.” Masae knows she’s about to cry as she says this, “It’s not your fault. The, um, the hospital does not allow visitors so their patients can fully recover. And—and Reki wishes for you to explore the world for his sake. You… you had taken many pictures for him, right?”
“I did.” Langa cradles the camera bag slung on his shoulder, “I travelled a lot and mailed all of them here. Did he like them?”
“Yeah.” Masae sniffs, “He sure did. Reki does not tell you much in his letters but he really missed you.”
“I do too.” Langa takes the photo of Reki he kept in his wallet, “I missed him so much. I’m glad that I will see him again.”
Masae freezes at his words.
“What?” She asks with trepidation. Langa tilts his head, “Reki has fully recovered now. Joe, Cherry, Hiromi, and this kid Miya all saw him and talked with him.”
“Wh-what do you mean?”
“Oh.” Langa realizes, blinking, “Reki must have wanted to surprise you too. I’m sorry if I ruined the surprise. I was just so excited to see Reki again.”
“Wh-where did they see Reki?” Masae looks up to the ceiling as Langa replies, “By the apricot tree, Auntie. Joe moved here a month ago and accidentally met this kid named Miya and they finally reconciled.”
Joe, Masae wracks her brain at the name before remembering a tall green-haired fellow who has knelt on the ground for days in front of their home, begging for forgiveness that they eventually gave.
She has been harsh with the boy ten years ago but it wasn’t really his fault. Their family came to term with it. It’s a long process of grieving but they eventually were able to accept that their precious Reki is gone now and no begging or crying would bring him back.
“They saw him? They saw Reki?” Masae asks again and Langa nods, “They did. And I’m going to see him later.”
The first teardrop that falls from her eyes startles Langa.
“Auntie, why are you crying?”
“It’s just…” Masae breathes heavily, “I’m just happy that you two are going to see each other again. It’s—it’s been so long. Too long. But finally, right? Finally.”
Langa wipes the tears with his thumb, gently coaxing Masae with his soft tone, “I’m so happy too. Thank you for accepting us, Auntie.”
Masae cradles Langa to her warmth and wishes that she could have protected the two when they were both younger.
If she knew a bit earlier or if she had been actively protecting them instead of just watching by, would things turn out differently?
Masae does not know the answer. No one would. Perhaps, that’s why she and Nanako orchestrated such a poor plan out of their own regrets. Their bad decisions had put a lot of people in misery.
Long after Langa goes back to Kojiro’s house, Masae enters Reki’s room once again. The room has been kept the same as the last time Reki was in it. It would have been a time capsule for a weary soul. Except, the walls were littered with Langa’s pictures—the ones he had sent through mail every month for the last ten years—and every time Masae peeks into it, her heart aches for Reki and Langa.
“Langa visited us for the first time in a decade.” Masae speaks in a tone reminiscent of when she is talking to Reki, “He has grown taller, Reki. I bet you would have loved him even more. He came back because he wants to see you. He believes that your old friends saw you by the apricot tree you go to so much when you were young. And I just—”
Masae bits her lips to prevent herself from crying but the wail that crawls out of her throat disturbs the perfect stillness of the room. “If you’re going to show yourself, Reki, show yourself to us too. It’s so unfair, Reki, if you just appear to your friends. Reki, we love you too. So, please, please, please, please, if you can hear this, if you’re here, can you just let us at least say goodbye to you?”
Nobody speaks back. Not a sliver of laughter from Reki nor a stubborn voice replying back to her.
Masae sobs to herself.
She wants to hear Reki’s voice again even for a hardheaded ‘I don’t want to do the dishes, Mom’. Anything—absolutely anything if it means she can remember how Reki even sounds like.
.
The time is still early and Miya has yet to be let out from school. He would have gone to the meeting place if it weren’t for Kojiro and Kaoru constantly monitoring his movements. It’s annoying but he knows that they meant well.
“You really did see Reki?” Langa reconfirms as he settles in the drawing room. There’s not much to talk about, Langa thinks. They had prattled it all yesterday.
“Yes, we did but—” Kojiro answers but is cut with Langa’s babble.
“Oh.” Langa presses a hand on his chest, “I’m getting nervous. It’s been so long since we last saw each other. And we even fought. I don’t know what to say or do, my hands are getting clammy and what if I say the wrong things again, Joe? I don’t want Reki to get hurt because of me again,”
“That’s okay, Langa. I’m sure that he won’t.” Kaoru assures, “Reki is really excited to see you too.”
“I see. I’m happy that he’s not as angry anymore. I know it’s been ten years and many things have changed but we promised each other, so,” Langa pulls out a black velvet box from his bag, surprising Kaoru and Kojiro, “I brought this with me. I don’t know if it will fit but we can resize it once Reki tries to wear this. And after that, we’ll leave this town as promised. I’ll take him to Canada with me. Canada is cold and I know Reki prefers summer more but at least we are not here anymore.”
“Langa…” A haunting realization dawns on both Kaoru and Kojiro. It was Kojiro who tried to clarify first, stuttering in panic, “What are you talking about? Didn’t you read my email? I said that we saw the ghost of Reki.”
Langa pauses for a second, tilts his head, and says, “Is Reki that pale? Was he that sick? Auntie said he’s doing better nowadays. We should start walking around more to get him used to the outside world again.”
“Langa.”
“Having been cooped up in a hospital bed must have been lonely. I have so many plans for us to do once we meet.”
“Langa.”
“So, we should hurry and go to where he is now.”
“Langa!” Kojiro shouts, jaw clenched tightly, the back of his eyes stinging. Kojiro looks up to prevent his tears from falling, breathing heavily through his mouth as the tightness in his chest burns. Kaoru has long gone out of the room. If he strains his ears, Kojiro could hear Kaoru’s muffled sobs in the bathroom next to where they are.
“Langa, I’m sorry.” Kojiro apologizes once, twice, thrice, until the weight in his chest shatters down his cheeks, “It’s all my fault. But Langa… you do know that Reki is dead, right?”
Silence falls thick in the room that they can clearly hear Kaoru’s sobs next door and the chirping of birds outside. Langa’s face is blank for the seconds that the quiet lasted before shifting, a chuckle escaping his throat like a manifestation of everyone’s fear.
“That’s such a nasty joke, Joe.” Langa says, tittering, “You should knock on wood for that.”
Langa rises from his spot, “I’ll see you two later. I’m going to Hiromi’s flower shop to buy sunflowers. Do you think Reki will like that? Or should I go with roses? Ah, I’ll just ask Hiromi for that since he knows more about flowers.”
Langa says another ‘see you’ before leaving them dumbfounded and even more miserable than before. Kojiro quickly goes to Kaoru and pulls him in a comforting embrace, god knows how much they both need it after knowing now what happened to Langa.
.
.
.
Langa sits on his knees in front of the smiling picture of Reki. His legs are asleep and there’s an electrifying tingle when he moves them. It’s been hours—or perhaps days, he stops counting somewhere along the line so he doesn’t know. It’s probably Tuesday—wait, no, Tuesday was when he returned from the retreat. It can’t be Tuesday forever.
But isn’t it a roundabout week? You get Tuesday today and Tuesday next week too. So, perhaps, it’s Tuesday again. Just not the Tuesday where Reki is still with him.
Langa flinches.
What is he even thinking?
Of course, Reki is still with him. He’s in front of him, smiling in that small frame. He just has to wait for him to wake up. Because they promised each other to be together forever. Because they are going to leave this town once they graduate. Because he has not yet taken him to the exhibit where all his photos were hang like treasures.
They have so much time in their hands so why—
Why is his chest caving in on him? Why is it so suffocating? Why does it feel like he lost the most important part of himself?
“Langa?” His mother is calling him. She has been for the last few hours but he does not budge. He sits on the pillow like he is begging and when his mother grabs his arm, he forcefully shrugs it away.
“Langa, dear, let’s go home.” Nanako pleads, “You haven’t eaten or slept for days. You have to rest.”
“I can’t rest, Mom.” Langa crawls towards the closed casket of Reki where the picture he took months before sat comfortably, “Reki might wake up any moment now. He’s only sleeping and he will be lonely if I’m not here. Reki does not say it much but I know how easily lonely he can be and I just—I shouldn’t have left for the retreat. I should have stayed and accompanied him. Stupid Langa. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!”
Nanako screams and cries as Langa began to hit himself in the head with his fist as his repetitive curses of himself rang in the solemn hall. Hiromi and Kaoru immediately respond to the noises they heard in the hall. They both restrain Langa even as Langa struggles and shouts and asks for Reki to wake up because he’s here, because he won’t ever leave him so just please, please, please wake up.
“Hiromi, Cherry, Reki will wake up, right?” Langa turns to them, “Right? He has to. Reki promised he will take me with him wherever he goes. We promised each other to never leave each other behind. He—hic—he promised.”
“Langa…” Hiromi is sobbing with him but he does not loosen his grip even when Langa helplessly slackens in their arms, wailing so wretchedly.
Kaoru, sharp as he is, looks away as he says, “Langa, let Reki rest in peace. He’s dead and we can’t—”
“NO!” Langa screams in between his sobs, “You’re lying! You’re all lying to me! Reki is alive! He is. He is. He is. He won’t leave me like this!”
“REKI IS DEAD!” Kaoru’s shout startles Langa to silence.
The first time Langa heard the news, it was brought to him in a trembling whisper wrapped in a coffin-tight fit of sadness, his mother and Reki’s family were sobbing at his feet, uttering Reki’s name like a prayer. They told him in between their wails, soft and afraid that his brittle onion-skinned heart will break.
Reki is dead has always been spoken in a tone meant to placate. Kaoru shouting it just stabs the nail right through him, through the thick wrappings of excuses he comes up with on that very day the news crawl out of the casket that lied in front of him.
Langa collapses, his head is spinning and his body numb. The last thing he sees is the smiling picture of Reki, his hand bleeding from the broken glass of the frame.
.
“H-how is he doing?” Masae glances at Langa.
Langa sits by the window of his room, blankly staring outside, the one that faces the tree that Reki used to climb on to enter his bedroom. His bedroom walls are littered with the photographs he took of Reki, the floor with trinkets and gifts Reki gave him for several reasons, many of them just because.
Nanako looks down as she says, “He refused to eat anything if I don’t say that Reki told him to do so. He barely sleeps. He wakes up screaming and crying in the middle of the night. I’m so scared, Masae. I don’t know what to do anymore. Oliver and I decided to move back to Canada so he can recover but I just—I don’t know if it will even help.”
Masae reaches for Nanako’s hand, squeezes them reassuringly, “Let me talk to him.”
“I… please, if you can.” Nanako crumples, face hiding behind tired hands.
Masae walks gingerly across the bedroom floor, taking her time to painstakingly avoid Langa’s treasures. When she is a ruler away from Langa, she calls, “Langa, dear? Do you want to eat anything? Or go outside? Koyomi-chan, Nana, and Chichi miss you, you know. You still can go to our house if you want. You can even take Reki’s room and…”
Langa does not respond.
Masae stands before Langa and takes the camera Langa cradles with his hands. She puts it on the tabletop behind him. She cards Langa’s hair and notes how greasy they had become but it does not deter her from continuing to comb through the knots.
“Langa, Reki is angry.”
As a mother, she knows the pain of losing a son. It’s an ache that constantly augments—a ghost that hangs in their home in the absence of Reki. It’s a pain that does not truly go away. She knows that. But she does not have the luxury of grieving destructively because she’s a mother, she needs to be strong for her family.
Langa, on the other hand, has lived most of his life for Reki. She knows this. Nanako knows this as well. Everyone who ever knew them knows this.
Langa’s loss is a pain they won’t fully understand. It’s a deep scar that grips at his neck, pricking him with needles of nightmares and regrets that choke him, that made him a shell of who he once was.
So, when she says this, she says it for Langa—so he may continue to grow and live.
“Reki is very angry at you right now, you know.” She is already crying but at least Langa’s eyes had taken on a shine of life. “He said that he does not want to see you if you keep being lame. He wants you to eat healthily, sleep for eight hours, bathe and exercise. He wants you to live. And you know,” Masae takes the camera again, “Reki really loves your photographs. He wished to see more of it.”
“Reki did?” Langa croaks out for the first time in weeks. Nanako’s knees weaken on her. Masae nods in confirmation, “Yes, Langa. Reki can’t… he can’t get out of the hospital right now. He’s trying his best to recuperate. It may take months or even years and Reki told me that he doesn’t want you to be stuck waiting for him.”
“But I can wait!” Masae squeezes Langa’s hands and places the camera in its rightful owner, “Reki knows that. That’s why he wants you to go to college in Canada and takes beautiful pictures so he can see the world through your art. Reki wants you to live normally for him. Do you understand, Langa?”
“But I want to live my life with him.” Langa exhales loudly like he is breathing out the air keeping him pressed up and smothered, “My normal life is with Reki.”
Masae nods, her eyes blurry from her own tears, “We know, Langa. But do you want to break Reki’s heart even more by being stubborn?”
“Of course not. I want Reki to be happy.”
“Then you should go to Canada with your parents.” She pats Langa’s head affectionately, “Follow what Reki wants. If you won’t, he’ll be angry with you even more. He said he’ll see you soon when he recovers.”
“He won’t see me now?”
“Gods no.” Nanako hugs Langa from behind, having summoned up the strength to lie to Langa for his sake, “Reki doesn’t want to see you now. He said that he’ll write to you and to remember him by through the photos you took of him before the accident.”
“I see…” Langa nuzzles the camera to him, “Okay. If Reki says so then I’ll go to Canada. He’ll forgive me eventually, right, Auntie?”
He already did, Masae wants to say but she only nods, “Of course. So, while you’re away, we’ll take care of Reki. The hospital only allows the mother to visit, you see. So you need not worry.”
“Can you tell him that I love him?”
Langa looks small to their eyes, like a child wanting something that he can’t have. Masae smiles painfully, “I’ll tell him every single day.”
“Thank you, Auntie.” Langa smiles, crooked and out of place, “I’ll see Reki soon then.”
.
.
Dear Langa,
I heard that you have settled in Canada nicely. Please be sure to eat well and sleep properly. Don’t forget to comb your hair! You know how much I love your hair so you better take care of that for me.
Don’t you dare come running back if you missed me because I won’t see you if you do. Come back only when I fully recover. Otherwise, I’ll hate you forever. And I don’t want that. So, Langa, live for me, okay?
I love you always,
Reki
.
.
.
“Why is he sitting there, Kaoru-san?”
Miya stares at Langa, his figure small despite his large build. Kaoru pats Miya’s head as he responds, “He’s waiting for Reki.”
“Has he been like that since morning? You should have told me, I would have missed class to accompany him.”
“It’s only been two hours. I’m sorry for taking you here as soon as your school let you out.”
“It’s okay. I don’t have anything better to do anyway.” Miya scratches the back of his head, “But you know, I never tried calling Reki out at this time. It’s always a little bit before or over midnight.”
“Should we try?” Kojiro tilts his head.
It’s half past six in the evening and the wind has gotten colder. Langa sat by the apricot tree with his thick coat, a bouquet of sunflowers and roses in his arms, cradled like a baby.
Miya runs to him without qualms, “Hey, Langa-san.”
“Ah,” Langa pops out as he recognizes the child, “You’re Miya, right?”
“I am.” Miya replies, “Do you want to see Reki now?”
“Will he be here soon?”
“Perhaps.”
Miya gingerly glances at Kaoru. Kaoru had explained to him on the way to the park the state of Langa’s mind. He tries to understand as much but he is still a bit confused.
Miya goes to the back of the tree and crosses his fingers as he calls Reki’s name.
“You’re getting weirder and weirder, Miya.”
“Reki!” Miya exclaims. Langa appears next to him, parroting a quiet “Reki?”
Reki’s eyes widen at the sight of Langa. Miya smiles at this. He knows how much Reki wants to see Langa, his amber eyes show it splendidly. They brighten with joyous light, a smile splitting his face; and Miya tampers down the urge to tease Reki’s blush.
“Langa…”
Miya turns to see Langa’s expression but they remain blank.
“Where’s Reki, Miya?”
Both Miya and Reki freeze at his words.
“What do you mean? Reki is in front of you!” Miya points in frustration at Reki’s still form, “He’s looking at you right now!”
Langa frowns, “Are you lying to me, Miya?”
“I am not.” Miya grits. When Kojiro and Kaoru finally join them, Miya asks, “Do you see Reki, Kaoru-san, Kojiro-san? He’s there, right?”
“I see him.” Kaoru affirms. Miya turns to Langa, “See? I’m not lying.”
“Enough.” Langa juts out, “Stop joking to me. And Cherry, you know better than to play a prank on me when it comes to Reki.”
“What is he…?” Miya trails off as Kojiro shakes his head.
“He—he can’t see me.” Reki rasps out, “Why can’t he see me?”
Kaoru glances sadly at Reki before he shortens the distance between him and Langa.
Kaoru mulled over Langa’s situation for the last hours. He has always been smart so he put the pieces together quickly. Kaoru understands that this was the only answer their mothers could have come up for Langa’s sake.
But it’s time to stop pretending.
“Langa, you know that Reki is dead, right?”
Langa’s eyes slant into a glare, “That’s not a funny joke, Cherry. Stop with it already.”
“I am not joking.” Kaoru ignores Langa’s heated stare, “You have to stop pretending, Langa. I told you and I’ll tell you again, let Reki rest in peace.”
“Stop!” Miya flinches at the loud impact of Langa’s fist to the trunk, “Reki was in a hospital for the last ten years. He’s not dead. Stop talking like he is.”
Oh. Reki feels his heart quiver as he realizes Langa’s predicament.
“He doesn’t know I died.” Reki whispers. Kojiro stands next to him, “He knows but he just doesn’t want to accept it.”
Kaoru spats, “Your stubbornness is only hurting him further. This is probably why you can’t see Reki.”
“Shut up.”
Langa adjusts the bouquet and caresses the petals, making sure that they weren’t squashed in his rashness.
“How long will you be like this, Langa?”
“Shut up!” Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. “You don’t know anything. Reki will come see me soon. He will. And then—then we will leave this town together. You know that, Cherry. Even Joe knows it. I came here to see Reki again. He’s just a little bit late.”
Langa sits by the root of the tree, “I’ll wait here for him. You can go if you don’t want to wait for him with me.”
Kaoru sighs, “You have to realize it yourself soon, Langa.”
Langa does not listen. He stubbornly crosses his arms and waits for Reki. But Reki does not physically come to see him. Reki floats by before him with his heart breaking at his state.
Miya sees this all.
.
“Will Langa be okay?” Hiromi asks Kojiro and Kaoru as they sit in the drawing room. Kaoru sighs, “Langa will be. That stubborn fool is as reckless as Reki but I know that he will be able to understand it one day.”
“I hope so.” Hiromi says, staring at the framed picture that sat atop the cabinet, their younger versions smiling brightly at their weathered souls.
Kojiro raises a glass, eyes staring up, “Here’s to one day.”
Their glasses clink together, a noise that warps the awkward silence that Langa brought back with him.
.
Langa is there again when Miya visits the tree. Reki is already floating beside him with a wretched stare. He had never thought that their meeting would be so unhappy. He always thought that it would be like those in movies—sappy and cheesy and happy. Not tragic—not this kind of genre.
It’s already the fifth day and Langa waits like a puppy for its owner to come back.
Out of his cynical young heart, Miya offers Langa a cookie to nibble on.
“Aren’t you tired?” Miya asks. Langa shakes his head, “Why would I? I don’t get tired if it’s for Reki.”
Miya peeks at Reki. Reki merely sidles next to Langa, his arms restless beside him like he wants to embrace Langa but he knows he can’t.
“Reki is a good friend of mine.” Miya begins, “He’s really cheery and sometimes wise. And he… he misses you too.”
Langa looks at him contemplatively, “Did he tell you that?”
“He talks about you often.” Miya says, “Not a day goes by that he doesn’t.”
“I miss him too.” Langa admits, “Not a single day goes by that I don’t.”
“You really love him, huh?” Miya looks at Reki more than at Langa. Reki looks like he is about to cry but he doesn’t. Reki just buries his face on his arms, tightly biting his lips.
Langa does not even hesitate to answer, “Infinitely.”
Miya winces at the first hiccup that Reki can’t stifle.
“Tell him I love him too infinitely.” Reki shudders out with a tremble. Miya repeats it to Langa.
“You know Reki so much.” Langa says enviously, “You must have spent many days with him. I hope I can see him soon.”
Reki wears the same expression Miya saw the night he hummed Furasato. Reki wriggles his arms, rising and falling beside him. And then Reki just helplessly stands in front of Langa.
“Tell him that he grew up so handsomely. Tell him that I still like his blue hair, that I want to run my fingers through them again, that I love his beautiful eyes, that I always thought of him.” Reki says with a sense of desperation, bubbles of words floating and popping and Miya tries his hardest to keep up with his request, but it’s hard when he begins to stutter, his throat constricting like the ache that Reki possesses has been transferred in his chest, “Tell him that I love him, that I still do, that I’m sorry, that I’m not mad, that I wished I could have told him everything myself.”
“Tell him I love him infinitely.”
Reki has rehearsed many times what he was going to say to Langa. That was his past time for the last ten years. He did it until he is unable to cry anymore. But all of those practices and bravery vanish the instance he sees Langa, his courage melts into an ache he cannot bear, a wish to hold Langa in his arms one more time (two more times, fifty more times), a prayer to redraw the reality, for him to go back to 1995.
But what can he do when he is dead and Langa is alive?
Instead, Reki stands in front of unseeing eyes as he clutches his chest—as if something in him will give and everything in him will fall out and nothing in the world will ever be right again the moment he let his hands fall to his side. He has to just cramp everything in him.
He repeats while tears drizzle down his pale translucent cheeks, “Tell him that I love him so much and that I’m so sorry for breaking my promise to him.”
Summer days. Open field. The sky is wide and blue and free. Two boys tumble as they run, skidding, then restarting. Reki reaches out to Langa like he is trying to rekindle those memories.
“Langa, I love you.”
Reki crumples, “Infinitely. Infinitely.”
“Why are you crying, Miya?”
Miya brushes the tears that unknowingly slip out and slaps Langa’s hand away, “Langa, you are as stupid as Reki.”
“What?” Langa blinks in alarm.
“Kaoru-san is right. It’s time that you face the music.” Miya shouts, “Reki is dead!”
“What are you talking about?” Langa gasps out, “He is not.”
“He is!” Miya stresses, “He is crying in front of you like a fool, shouting how much he loves you infinitely. And you can’t even hear it.”
“You’re talking nonsense again. You and Cherry and everyone else. Reki is—”
“Dead.” Miya cuts petulantly, “I don’t know how long you will cling to your lie but you know that Reki died while you were in your retreat. He died angry and sad and he thought he died alone for a long time until I told him that he was in an accident with Kojiro-san. He died with you not by his side!”
“Shut up!” Langa yells, “What do you know?”
“I know because Reki told me.” Miya lies, teeth snarling, “Reki has the right to be angry at you and hate you forever but Reki is crying in front of you, telling you stupid things about how much he still loves you, how much he is trying to ask for forgiveness that he doesn’t even need to ask from you. And you can’t see or hear any of it! Reki deserves peace and you are not giving it to him.”
“What do you know? You’re just a kid!”
Langa finally breaks.
“You don’t know Reki or me. You’re just some kid who… who…” Langa cuts himself with a pained screech, “Just let me see Reki. Please.”
Miya shakes his head, “How can you see Reki if you don’t want to admit it?”
Langa looks around but Miya only stares at a space in front of him. He looks at the spot with doleful eyes that Langa flinches and when Miya does not budge even when he pushes him down in anger, Langa shatters once more.
“Reki!” Langa cries, “Reki, where are you? Please show yourself to me! Please.”
“I’m in front of you, Langa.” Reki replies sadly.
“It’s unfair, Reki. It’s so unfair.”
“I know, I know. Please forgive me, Langa.”
“Why can everybody else see you but I can’t? I want to see you. I want to see you so much, Reki.”
Reki touches Langa’s cheek and hurts even more when his fingers just pass through, “I wish for you to see me too.”
“It’s okay if you can’t forgive me, if you don’t want to forgive me. It’s okay. If you won’t look at me or if you want me to punch me, it’s okay. But please.” Langa heaves, “Please, Reki. I want to see you.”
But the space that Miya stares at remains empty. There is only the low chirping of crickets, the dripping of the faucet, and their heavy breathing that fills the silence of the park.
Langa pleads once more, “Please…”
“Langa…”
Langa’s eyes widened at the voice. He lets Miya go and turns his attention to the direction where he heard his name.
It’s been ten long years. He had almost forgotten how Reki sounded. Tears gather more and pour like waterfall, staining his cheeks with the pieces that had poked his chest for the last decade.
Beautiful.
Reki’s voice is still so beautiful.
Langa reaches out in an attempt to hold Reki. The wind in front of him is warmer. He smiles. Reki must really be in front of him. He must be or Langa must have absolutely lost it.
“Reki…” A balloon in his chest pops and for the first time, Langa can truly breathe, “I can hear you. I can finally hear you.”
“You can?” A quiet laugh snakes out of Reki like a requiem. Langa cradles his reply, “I can, Reki. I can finally hear you.”
“That’s good.” Reki says lightly before his tone shifts to a serious timber, “Listen, Langa. Miya is telling the truth. I had been bawling my eyes out in front of you.”
Langa grimaces at Reki’s reprimand, his lips mumbling a pitiful apology.
“I’m sorry…”
“No—no, it’s because I want to hug you so much but I can’t.” Reki chuckles but not out of joy. The sound prickles Langa and he curls in himself, “Do you hate me, Reki?”
“Why are you all asking me that? Of course not.”
“Then why…” Something toppled in Langa’s chest, crashing down with a tremendous sound, a shattering of everything that holds Langa together, “Why won’t you let me see you?”
Reki pauses and stares at Langa. If he could, he would have wiped his tears away. But that’s something death won’t allow him to. Until death do us apart, Reki thinks to himself, feeling silly and crumpled up and hopeful despite it all.
“When I died, you were the last thing on my mind. I was selfish and insecure and the last ten years that I was not with you were all the time I needed to organize my thoughts. I should have trusted you more. I should have trusted the love that you gave me more but I am sorry that I crumbled with my insecurities, with their words, with my jealousy. I am sorry that I left you because of that.”
Reki smiles bitterly even if Langa can’t see him, “We were all too young to know better. Every day, I wondered what could have been, how it should have been. There is nothing in the world that I wished for more than I wished for you to come and see me again.”
There is a caress on Langa’s cheeks, a warmness that seems to seep into his bones and hold him, wiping the tears that won’t stop falling. Langa hiccups miserably as Reki says, “So, Langa, what are you afraid of? Why don’t you want yourself to see me?”
Deep down, Langa knows the answer. It’s something that he denied for the longest time. He used his days since that moment to try and forget it. A lie he clung on to lest he gets back to the hole he buried himself into the day he found out.
Reki is dead.
That is something he never thought he’d word out. Not until they were old and grey anyway. Langa has deluded himself for years that Reki is alive and is merely hiding from him somewhere because he hates him.
Langa will give his soul away for Reki to be hateful and alive instead. At least—at the very least—he could do something about a hateful Reki who is alive.
But Reki is dead.
Death is not something he can change. Death is permanent and wretched and utterly despicable. It takes and takes without warning, without mercy, without giving thoughts to those who will be left behind.
Death took the only person in the world that matters to him most.
Like fog lifting or a curse being placed, Langa does not know how to take it but his heart suspends in his chest and crashes down at his feet when finally, after ten years apart, Langa finally sees Reki—young and never aged a day Reki, lovable cheery Reki, beautiful Reki, his Reki.
“Long time no see, Reki.” Langa laughs quietly, his eyes flooding with the remnants of memories that still feel so alive in him.
Reki smiles, a sense of peace settling in his belly like a lead in reminder, like the yellowed edges of the photo he kept at the head of his bed, “You can see me now?”
“Yes.”
There. Finally there. In front of him. Reki is finally, finally before him again with his beautiful face that hadn’t aged, with his flaming red hair he loves to card his fingers through on all seasons they spent together, and with his clear amber eyes he missed so much. His skin is translucent against the moonlight, a telltale sign of his nature.
“Yes, I can finally see you.”
Reki’s smile quivers on his face, a breathy laugh escaping his too full chest—bubbling with a cauldron of emotions he only feels for Langa.
He reaches out tentatively, afraid. But Langa meets him halfway (the way he always does) and when their fingers meet, memories flood both their senses.
Reki’s eyes widen, “You can touch me.”
“I can.” Langa smiles at the warmth that engulfs his hands from the point where Reki touches him.
“Yes.” Reki trembles, “Yes, Langa. You can see and touch me again. After ten years.”
“After ten years.” Langa repeats, a broken curve on his lips, “And it’s still you. Always you.”
“You are such a sappy boy, Langa.”
“Do you hate it?”
“No.”
Langa pulls Reki to him, “What about me? Do you hate me?”
“Of course not.” Reki tangles himself in the gentleness of Langa, “I could never.”
“Do you forgive me then?”
Reki falls silent for a second and then he says, “Langa, there’s nothing to forgive. We made mistakes. I told you, we were too young to know better. The only thing I wanted now is to see you for the last time.”
Langa tightens his hold around Reki like he’ll just slip out if he even loosens his grip, “Stay.”
Reki buries his head on Langa.
He has grown so tall, so big, so everything he imagines him he will be. He pats Langa’s back and clings to him even as his chest pops with the farewell that is too heavy on his tongue.
“I can’t do that.” Reki says in a tone that hides his goodbye, “Not anymore, anyway.”
“You can!” Desperation wraps itself like a noose around Langa, “You can stay with me.”
Reki feels light.
It’s a feeling that he hadn’t felt for a very long time. But all the balloons that once suffocated him began exploding in him until he was able to fill his lungs with air that pushes him forward.
There really is nothing more in the world that he wants than to see Langa for the final time.
“I don’t belong by your side anymore.”
“Says who?” Langa refutes, “Because I will always belong to you.”
Reki chuckles, flushing, “Yeah. But not right now. You have to understand that, Langa.”
“If I don’t want to?”
Reki kisses Langa’s cheeks, his nose, his temple, his dimple, and then finally his lips, “You should. For me.”
Langa stands frozen, tongue seemingly swallowed. He realizes for the nth time that Reki will really go to somewhere he cannot follow—that he cannot find Reki anywhere in the world anymore, not in Canada or Okinawa or even by this apricot tree. He only rode the waves of his desperation, clawing and fighting to stay afloat lest he forgets to breathe safely whilst Reki is away.
But Reki is telling him the things that everybody had told him once, thrice, fifty times a decade ago.
“I’m sorry I have to leave first.” Reki says in a low voice. He is all weary lines and sad eyes and goodbyes that Langa cradles him once more, kisses his forehead then his lips, and placates, “I’m sorry I can’t follow you there.”
There’s a brief pause where Reki exhales tremblingly and then Langa feels his eyes brimming.
“I love you infinitely, you know that, right?” If love has a voice, it would be Reki’s. Langa kisses him again, “I love you infinitely too.”
They exchange sentiments like they’re exchanging goodbyes—one wrought with wishes, the other crumbling with hope.
Langa falls to his knees and lets out a wretched cry that takes the whole town back to 1995.
Reki is long gone from his arms, at peace somewhere else, leaving every person that ever loved him aching with a hurt that tears through time.
“We were too late.”
Miya turns to see the three adults as they watch Langa.
“Reki seems happy.” He comments flippantly despite his hiccups. Kaoru tugs him in a warm embrace and without his permission, his own bones weather on him, his eyes wet with tears, and his throat sobs out his own sadness.
Reki is the first friend he ever made but Reki is gone now.
Miya is going to be as lonely as the others would. But he’ll survive. Reki taught him well enough how to.
.
Langa spends his days in Okinawa making up with his friends. It was not as difficult as he thought it would be. Kojiro, Kaoru, and Hiromi just want him to be okay. They all wanted to move forward with him.
It’s something that Langa has yet to decide.
That’s why he found himself in Reki’s room, all the photos, the bed and the pillows, all Reki’s old clothes, the notebooks he has for his creations take him back to a point of his life that he never wanted to end.
Masae has let him submerge in the bygones plaguing the room and Langa couldn’t be more grateful to Reki’s family—their family.
Langa touches the notebook fondly and sees the scribble and doodles that Reki loves. He reads every page and every letter, even the ones that Reki has tried to erase. At the middle of the notebook where Reki’s scribble has stopped is a crooked heart and a Langa + Reki within.
Langa lets a stuttering exhale.
“You finally carved our names right, Reki.”
Langa pulls a pen from the penholder on Reki’s table and writes something on it with his meticulous handwriting.
“You forgot this, Reki.”
Langa whispers as he leaves the room.
On the notebook, within the crooked heart that Reki once shaped, under their names, an infinity symbol connects both of them together like a promise that neither will ever forget.
.
.
.
“Oh, you’re back from the exhibit early, Langa.” Nanako greets with a smile, eyes lingering on the white plastic bag Langa holds, “Did you go to the pharmacy?”
Langa raises the bag for Nanako to inspect but Nanako waves him off, “I bought some Tylenol. I have not been feeling well lately.”
“Must be from jetlagged. You have been working ever since coming back from Japan. Eat and then rest afterwards.”
Langa sits across from his mother and watches the way her face is marred with lines from her age, like a mnemonic of the things she had to go through because of him. He reaches out and grasps his mother’s weary hand and kisses them, “I’m sorry, Mom.”
Nanako blinks in surprise, “For what?”
“For the last decade. For everything.”
“That’s…” Nanako intertwines their hands together, “You don’t have to be sorry. You’re my son. Always will be. No matter what troubles you, I will be by your side. So, Langa, tell me if you need something.”
Langa squeezes their hands and smiles, “Thank you, Mom. I love you.”
Nanako’s eyes water, her heart throbbing suddenly, “I love you too, Langa. I love you so much, dear. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, I do.”
They speak in between their bites, retelling memories that tickle them funny. Langa washes the dishes for the first time in years, hugs his mother tightly and tells his father through the phone to always take care before he goes back to his room.
That night, Langa goes to his bed, drinks the medicines for his ache, and sleeps for a very, very long time that his hair remains blue, his eyes remained cerulean clear (the color that Reki loves the most), and his skin translucent against the moonlight glow.
.
.
Once I've done what I set out to do, I'll return home one of these days. Where the mountains are green, my home town, and the water is clear, my home town.
.
.
.
“Reki?”
Reki blinks as he wakes up from his nap by the apricot tree. He turns to Langa, his physique the same when he last saw him in 1995. Reki tilts his head in confusion as he asks, “What are you doing here, Langa?”
Langa sits next to him, back leaning against the scar of the tree, and replies peacefully, “Because I love you infinitely.”
“Oh.” Reki hums, a quiet smile slipping on his lips. He twines their hands together. He does not ask anymore, does not get mad—what for? It’s all been done already. So, with the words that they exchanged since they were young, Reki confesses back for the thousandth time,
“I love you infinitely too.”
.
.
.
“You can rest in peace together now.”
Miya whispers quietly as he places a bouquet of orange blossoms on their stones. A perfect fit for the two. Leaning down, he kisses both the tombstone before adding, “I hope you’re happy now.”
“Miya!”
Miya rises and bids them farewell, running to Kaoru, Kojiro, and Hiromi.
“What were you doing that kept you there?” Kaoru asks. Miya slinks to him and smiles, “Just telling my friends to take care of themselves.”
.
.
.
Hey—hey—did you hear? Did you? There’s an apricot tree in the old park. Yes, that apricot tree by the edge, the only tree by the edge, yes, yes, that. It’s beautiful isn’t it? It’s about four times your size. No, no, I’m not kidding, it’s that tall. And pretty too. It’s the prettiest tree in our town.
Did you know if you confessed your love under that tree, you two will be together forever?
Lying? Of course not. It’s a true story of a boy with red hair and sunset eyes who loves another boy with hair as soft as snow and eyes as beautiful as the sea after a storm. It’s a beautiful thing—their love for each other.
Why am I telling you this? Um—I… err… do you want to go see the apricot tree together? Just the two of us?
You will?
That’s great! I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon, promise?
-Fin-