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Reki missed Langa.That was the only coherent thought in Reki’s head, swimming into loops as his breathing ripped through his chest with a desperation that made it so that he could feel the muscles of his lungs shrinking and expanding, quickly, painfully, as he lay in bed. His breathing picked up more, and he swore he could feel the cells in his lungs burning, building up and breaking down with every hiccup of his chest.Reki hated Langa.His ears roared. That wasn’t true. Something was burning, furiously, angrily, in his chest, but it wasn’t hate. Not towards Langa. The tearing claws that were stuck in Reki’s chest were meant for him, not Langa. They were meant to dig into Reki’s skin from the inside out, poking holes in his heart. His chest felt like it was caving in with fire and brine, curling his whole body towards his center, sucking him into a small then smaller ball, his own little, miserable world, until there was nothing except his own personal black hole. He was nothing. He had nothing.Reki missed Langa, and he hated that he did. When did he become so weak that he couldn’t keep himself in one piece on his own? Was he always like this?Yeah, he’d always been like this. Only he had been used to being ignored, overlooked, forgotten. He wasn’t used to having the place next to him filled; for years it had been him standing on his own, falling on his own, getting back up on his own. He’d been doing it, alone, for so long. Langa had changed that, though. Langa had changed a lot of things.The house was quiet, and Reki’s brain buzzed. He’d been in his room, in his bed, so long that it felt like the world outside of these walls didn’t exist. It was all a gray, sucking blur, something that was waiting for him to step outside his door. His skin felt itchy.Reki sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed. He looked at the clock. 1:33am. He pressed his feet into the ground, shifting the lumped blankets that had attached themselves to him away, going to stand up and immediately falling back to the bed, wincing. He could feel his knees, feel the blood that laced through them and down his shins, feel where the tendons met bone.It doesn’t feel like pain, he thought distantly, even as every atom flared to life with shocking awareness. He squinted at his legs, leaning closer to see in the dark, scrunching his face at the dark splotches and scrapes he could see on his legs even in the unlit room. The bruises were gathered at his knees but streaked down his legs in mottled clumps, the dark that was probably blue and purple bleeding into the pale of his skin.Reki didn’t know, exactly, how he got the bruises. The entire day felt like years, longer even than this never ending week without Langa had felt. He started out the day feeling like running himself into a brick wall, repeatedly.He’d ended up getting his wish more or less. That damned graffiti star, his… friends, and waking up in that stranger’s car after getting hit by him… he was so tired, battered down to his bones. He was in pain after a day of getting hit over and over. It seared itself into his skin and soul. It burned. He… wanted more of it.He put his fingers against the bruises, feeling the tender skin gently, testing. Ever so slowly, he pressed down, sucking in a sharp breath as his nerves trickled in waves around his fingertips. He pressed harder, leaning over his knees until his head rested on them, clenching his teeth as he used his other hand too, pressing over more skin, harder, until his legs throbbed with a tremulous ache. When he couldn’t push any deeper into his skin, he curved his fingers until his nails dug into flesh, pinpricks added to the burning in his legs.He whimpered as he took his hands away. It didn’t even hurt that bad anymore, the stinging dispersed into a numb prickling. His skin was feelingless, aching covered by a deadened blanket, but he could feel his bones throbbing underneath.This past week he had been empty. Langa had gone and taken the sun with him, darkening the world. Tears had pricked the corner of Reki’s eyes all week, but he only wanted them to fall so that he could fill whatever had been ripped out of his chest. He wished for them to fall, forced himself near to sobbing just so his chest would heave with something, but it did nothing to fill the gap. That’s if he could even get the tears to fall.After today—hurt after hurt after hurt—his body throbbed in time with his heart. His chest was still echoing an empty chorus, but his body thrummed with blood and nerves. He hadn’t felt this grounded to his body in days.He looped his fingers around his wrist, pressing, feeling the bones under skin and the pulse that nestled between them. A tear fell down his cheek. He thought of the variety of sharp tools in his workshop. He ran a thumb over the smooth, pale skin on the inside of his wrist. The thought felt distant and unappealing. He didn’t want to bleed out. It felt too purposeful, too much like his fault. He pressed his fingers to the bruises coating his knees again.Something rattled around his chest and made its way to his mind, a thought formed out of the searing in his bones and the empty in his rib cage. A hollow, dangerous, relieving thought.He stood up, blood burning down his legs, his shoulders aching as he reached for the doorknob, his fingers shaking as he pulled his shoes on in the dark, his eyes blurring as he picked up his skateboard, his feet starbursting with tingles with every step outside, his ears ringing as he threw his board to the ground with a clack, his muscles twitching and pinching against each other as the pavement rushed underneath him and he flew down the road with a rumbling clatter, his heart panging as he remembered what this felt like just a week ago.Reki missed Langa. So much.……Langa missed Reki.There was a spot in his chest that was empty. Well, not quite empty. There was a quiet darkness living there, spilling out again now that Reki was gone. It had consumed him after his dad had… died. And then Reki came around and was bright, so bright, blinding him and making him feel like he could go on and forget the darkness without forgetting his dad. But Reki was gone. And the bitter hole in his chest was eating away at him again, leaving nothing in his chest except pumping blood and a numbed yearning for red hair and a bright smile.His lungs ached and he shuddered, his body twisting in on itself. He knew he should want to cry right now, sob until the sadness ebbed away, but he couldn’t. There were no tears. There were no feelings.His fingers shook and he laced them together on his lap. He was sat on the edge of his bed, shirt stuck to his skin with sweat. He had woken up from a dream, heart pounding faster than it did when he was racing down Crazy Rock, faster than when he’d streaked down snowy hills on his snowboard. He couldn’t even remember the dream. Just his heart pounding, faster and faster, until it was so painful he couldn’t stand it.He picked up his phone from the side of the bed, checking the time. It was almost 2am. There were a few notifications, some texts from Miya and Joe, a missed call and voicemail from Joe. He clicked on the voicemail and held it up to his ear.“Hey Langa,” Joe’s voice said, sounding crackly through the recording, “Just wanted to check in, see how you’re holding up right now. Haven’t seen you these past couple days. Well, I know I have, we saw each other yesterday, at S, but you don’t seem to be…” There was a slight pause. “Anyways, Cherry’s been released from the hospital with instructions to not do, well, anything really. He’s being pissy about it, but that’s expected.” Joe laughed, his fondness apparent even through the tightness of his voice. “Shadow’s good too, just a mild concussion now.” Joe paused again, longer this time. “You should come around Sia la Luce soon. I know this all sucks. But you can reach out anytime. I seriously mean it.” Langa could tell. Even though Joe was talking to no one when he said this, he sounded so serious, all of his usual humor gone from his voice. Langa’s lungs hiccuped. “We’re here for you. All of us. Reki will come around.” Langa’s heart squeezed. “If you need anything, at any time, give me a call or come on over. I know you’re not a talker, but that shouldn’t keep you from reaching out. You don’t need to say anything. We’re here for you anyways. I’m here.”The voicemail clicked off with a beep. Something dripped onto Langa’s hand. He looked down at it, confused. He touched his face. It was wet with tears. Something in his chest heaved. He was crying. His chest shuddered and he felt himself crying harder, nearly sobbing. He was crying, finally, and he couldn’t even feel it. He could feel the tears falling down his face and the way that his lungs were constricting, grasping for breath, but he still felt empty, the darkness swallowing up his tears eagerly, drying his tears faster than they started. His lungs stilled, breathing normally, even as his heart still pounded. He wiped the tears off his face, the salt drying quickly on his cheeks.He felt emptier than ever. Scraped out. His hand hovered over Joe’s name, so tempted to call him, to reach out. He wanted to be told that this emptiness didn’t mean that there was something wrong with him. He wanted to be told that he could be okay. That this was okay.But it was so late. Joe would be fast asleep, and Langa knew that he slept like a rock. He flicked back to his notifications. Right, Joe had also texted him. He clicked on it. It was an address. If you ever need to reach out and I can’t pick up, here’s my address. I mean it when I say whenever.Langa’s chest constricted again. He didn’t quite understand why Joe was doing this, going to such extents to make sure that Langa knew he could reach out if he wanted to. He wondered if Joe, or maybe Cherry, was doing the same thing for Reki. He wondered if Reki read the messages even if he didn’t pick up the phone. He wondered if Reki knew that there were people waiting for him with waiting arms. He wondered if Reki knew how miserable his absence made Langa feel. He wondered if Reki was feeling the same.Langa’s hands shook. He pulled up Joe’s contact and stared at it. Did he want to do this? It was just a call. But then he’d have to talk and explain. Probably. Joe said he wouldn't have to, but he would at some point, wouldn't he? That would be the right thing to do. Talk about his problems, his emotions. Except he didn’t know how. He barely knew if he could feel his emotions correctly, how was he supposed to talk about them?He sighed. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to talk.He pulled up Joe’s address. It was a twenty minute walk from his house. That wasn’t too bad. Maybe… maybe Joe would be awake? Maybe he’d answer the door if Langa knocked? Somehow that felt easier than a phone call.He got up and pulled on a pair of jeans and his shoes, shoving his phone in his pocket. He was only distantly committed to walking to Joe’s place, but it was enough, enough to get him on his feet and moving.He didn’t take his skateboard. That felt painful. Wrong. Walking would be good for him.He left a note for his mom on the counter just in case she woke up and he still wasn’t back. He didn’t want to worry her. Well, worry her more.The night was warm. When he first moved to Okinawa, it was hot. The sun was always bright and the air sticky with humidity. He never understood how Reki could wear so many hoodies while he was always skating and jumping around. Or wear hoodies at all. Okinawa was just so hot, and Langa was too used to the cold.There was a clattering up ahead and Langa looked up. His heart stopped. It was Reki. At the top of the hill, Reki was skateboarding, dancing in and out of the light from the occasional streetlamps, red flashing with yellow light. He was looking at the ground as he skated, swerving along the street without looking where he was going. Langa could see every jostle and bump from the asphalt, rocking Reki with a strength that a small rock or divot shouldn’t have. He crested the hill and evened out. He was skating straight down the center of the street. He was picking up some speed. He wasn’t slowing down. He still didn’t look up, even as he started going faster and faster, teetering on his board in a way that Langa had never seen him do, a way that Langa knew was unsafe.Langa wanted to call out, to move his feet, scream, run, anything. He was frozen, though. He was stuck. He tried just to reach out, to move his fingers, just an inch closer to Reki, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t lift his hand. He took a deep breath to call out but the air turned leaden in his throat and choked him. He felt like he was going to collapse, but he couldn’t move if he tried. Reki was there, right there, and he just couldn’t. He wanted to so badly. But there was ice in him, spreading faster than it ever had before. And there was no warmth left to melt through it.Reki jolted, almost near the bottom of the hill, his skateboard not so much as veering out from under him as he let himself drop to the ground. He didn’t fall, not how he had taught Langa to, but dropped. Limp. Arms floating by his sides as his eyes fell closed and he slammed into the ground, bumping and rolling, still limp, down the rest of the hill, until he came to a stop, curled up facing away from Langa.Then Langa was by his side, somehow unstuck, as Reki shook on the ground. He reached out, watching slowly as his palm gently touched Reki’s arm. No reaction. He turned Reki, gently, sitting him up so he could look at his face. Langa’s hand dropped away quickly, his lungs burning ice cold. Reki’s eyes were… so empty. They were so dim that Langa wasn't even sure if Reki knew that Langa was there.Langa opened his mouth and tried to say Reki’s name, but his voice only grated against his tongue, nothing coming out. His throat hurt. He felt like he’d been crying, sobbing, for hours. He reached out to carefully shake Reki, his palms burning where they touched him. Finally something returned to Reki’s eyes, some sign of life as he looked at Langa. He still looked empty. Reki shouldn’t be anything other than filled with life, but this… nobody should look like this.“Oh,” Reki said, his voice quiet, whispered. It barely was a sound. Reki opened his mouth again, but closed his mouth as he breathed out. He was staring at Langa, and Langa didn’t know what he was thinking. He couldn’t tell. But this look in Reki’s eyes scared him. It scared him more than knowing that Reki was mad at him and they might no longer be friends.Reki shifted and winced. Langa finally looked away from Reki’s face and looked down. Langa’s heart stopped. He swallowed, painfully. He felt his hands and lungs start to shake.Reki’s legs were a sea of bruises and scrapes, blood dotting his shins and dripping from his knees. His hands were scraped bad, the backs of them more so than his palms, like he hadn’t tried to catch himself. His arms were as bad as his legs, blood pin pricking across all the spaces not smeared with blood. He looked up to Reki’s face and noticed the few scrapes across his chin, and wondered, faintly, how he could have missed this.……Reki somehow missed Langa’s presence until he was already crouched in front of him, hands on his shoulders and gently shaking him. He hadn’t seen anything, really, barely even the ground in front of him. He didn’t need his eyes to feel the pain bursting across his skin. Although even that was starting to fade. But the way the quick thumping of his heart shook him all the way to his fingertips didn’t stop.Reki had been expecting anger when Langa had first materialized in front of him, expected sharp words followed by the rejection of Langa turning and walking away, leaving Reki to continue hurdling down streets. But Langa’s eyes were wide, shocked, almost teary. They looked red from crying. They looked so sad and empty, but he had reached out and even just his palms—cool against Reki’s burning skin even through the fabric of his shirt—had felt like Reki was being held.Then Langa had started shaking too. Langa started shaking as hard as Reki’s heart was. He started whispering Reki’s name, over and over again, sounding so heartbroken that it hurt more than any of the falls Reki had taken tonight. He forgot the pain in his body and just listened to Langa’s voice break over his name (knowing it was his fault) and as his frantic whispers shifted into hiccuping over the words, tears gathering in his soft, desperate eyes (it was all his fault) and as Langa started sobbing and sobbing, gathering Reki in his arms and holding him close, holding him gently (why, it was all his fault).Reki felt every single one of Langa’s tears and memorized every single sob and agonizing whisper. He bared his heart open to it, let it hurt him, ignored the part of him that wanted to simply accept the warmth of Langa. He was crying too, he thought. He couldn’t really tell. Langa was holding him, crying over him, his arms and legs were numb, fingertips tingling, chest collapsing.Something gave way. Reki took a breath, and he just held it. It was one breath at a time, and the next one wasn’t coming. Something was missing. From Reki. Something important. He didn’t even know if he wanted it back.……Langa missed the moment Reki slipped away, too busy crying into Reki’s shoulder, face to face with his dripping blood. When he finally pulled himself back, ready to beg answers out of Reki, his eyes were half shut and unlit.“Reki,” Langa whispered. He couldn’t tell if he had actually spoken his name. He tried swallowing, but he could barely breath it felt. There wasn’t any room in his throat. “Reki,” he tried again, a little louder this time, and his chest squeezed tight at the way his voice broke.He had Reki propped up in his arms, and his hands shook against the bleeding cuts that covered Reki.“Reki,” he tried again. Langa shook his a little, just a little, gently, and his stomach clenched—tight—when Reki’s head dropped forward, chin nearly touching his chest. Langa ducked his head down, trying to meet Reki’s eyes, but Reki wasn’t looking at anything. “Reki, please,” Langa begged, a sob in the edge of his voice. “Please.”Reki’s hand twitched against Langa’s leg, but that was it. Tears fell down Langa’s face, warm in the cold night air. He needed to do something. He put a hand to Reki’s forehead, brushing away the sweaty strands. That wasn’t the right thing to do, was it? Reki didn’t have a fever. Probably. Honestly he might.“Reki,” Langa whispered, wiping his thumb against the tear tracks on Reki’s face. He didn’t know what to do. He needed help. He had been headed to Joe’s. He wasn’t far now. He could go there. That would be good. Probably.Langa pulled Reki towards him, turning around and leaning Reki against his back. He tried not to think about moving so that his legs didn’t become so heavy they wouldn’t be able to move. He was already thinking about it, the heaviness tugging at his attention, trying to pull him closer to the ground and merge him with the cement. But Reki was sitting, lifeless, in front of him, and he needed to move. He leaned Reki against his shoulder and lifted both of them on his trembling legs, moving them forward with his numb feet.As Langa walked, Reki’s arms waved next to him, brushing against Langa’s thighs. He had to stay leaning forward so Reki didn’t fall off, and he was still a lot heavier than Langa expected, and the walk seemed to last forever. Langa focused on the warm puffs on breath against his neck, proof that Reki was still alive and not truly gone, and kept his feet moving.Finally, finally, Reki moved, his fingers clenching empty air and his chest hiccuping against Langa’s back. He shifted around, his head tilting. Langa stopped walking and turned to look at his face, his eyes wide and heart hammering.“Langa?” Reki whispered, his voice rough. His eyes weren’t fully open as he squinted tiredly up at Langa. His eyes were still dim, like everything had been drained out. But he was awake. He was talking. He wasn’t dead-while-alive anymore.“Reki,” Langa whispered back.“What are you doing?” Reki asked. “Why am I on your back?”“I’m carrying you. We’re going to Joe’s house,” Langa whispered back.“Why?”“Because…” Langa’s throat closed again and his vision blurred. He turned his head away.“Langa?” Reki shifted, trying to look at Langa’s face by peering over his shoulder.“Do you…” Langa couldn’t get any more words out.They stayed standing there in silence for a minute, not moving, not talking. Langa couldn’t make himself move. He needed to get them to Joe’s house, but he couldn’t do that if he couldn’t move his feet. He couldn’t do that if he didn’t walk the rest of the long walk.Langa frowned. He couldn’t remember how long they had walked, Reki limp on his back, but it had felt like forever. Looking around, Langa suddenly realized that he didn’t know where they were, that he didn’t even know the way to Joe’s house, he’d never been there, and he’d just been walking on autopilot, anywhere that was forwards. He shifted Reki, whispering a barely audible sorry at Reki’s surprised grunt, and pulling his phone out of his pocket. With one hand keeping Reki secured to his back, he opened his phone and pulled up Joe’s address. Thankfully it was just a two minute walk, although it was in the opposite direction. Langa had missed the house, overshooting it in his dazed out walking.……Reki felt like he was missing something. Some memory, some piece of the puzzle that was Langa carrying him in the middle of the night. But he was exhausted, and didn’t really care, even though he knew he probably should. His vision was swimming and he could barely think straight, a persistent throbbing lacing its way around his skull and tightening. He couldn’t even be bothered to tell Langa that he could set him down and that Reki could walk the rest of the way. Except that everything hurt. Reki smiled weakly. Everything hurt. Like it was supposed to. Like he’d been rattled around and around until all of his broken bits were scattered around and missing, left behind somewhere between the asphalt and his blurry thoughts.