365 Days

11

Langa stares at his open closet, a sense of idiocy and helplessness stabbing at his sides. He's gone over to Reki's house more times than he can count on his fingers and toes combined, but this time is going to be different, and it makes Langa's head spin as he think about it.

Langa + Reki + Their Two Moms (who have never met) = (Potential) Disaster

Langa groans to himself, hitting his head on the wall, practically wishing for quick death before he can embarrass himself.

Although he had told Reki not to worry since they'd agreed on their meeting, Langa can't help but feel a light pull in his chest just thinking about what could go wrong—not for Reki's cute clumsiness of speaking, but for his mother's. She always means well, but she has a tendency to... overthink. In all actuality, they're similar in that way and more—with the kindness and loving way they act towards others—however, Reki has been making him feel things his mother isn't capable of.

"Langa!" His mother calls out anxiously, bringing his attention to her and he walks across the hall into her room. "Yeah, what is it? Is everything okay?" Langa says from the doorframe of her room. She smiles softly as she nods, sitting on the edge of her big bed.

"Everything's fine, I just don't know what to wear. It's the first time we've eaten out of the house since your..." Her voice fades out and Langa sighs, sitting next to her. "Since Dad died. It's okay, Mom." He locks their arms together offering a warm smile. Nanako smiles again as she rests her head on his shoulder, giving his arm a tight squeeze.

"I'm actually having trouble choosing my clothes too." Langa muses.

"How about you help me choose out my clothes then we can go do yours?" She suggests, lifting her head up in excitement and Langa nods and they walk to her closet together.

_

Reki frantically combs his hair and to quickly put son gel to slick it back, in hopes of tidying up before Langa and his mother arrive, but his hair just pops back to its original form. He groans in frustration, slamming the comb onto the counter and tugging at his hair, possibly creating ten more split ends at every pull.

"This is impossible!" He exasperates, looking at himself in the mirror. It's bad enough that he's wearing a button up shirt that he had borrowed from his uncle, but having uncooperative hair is a nightmare situation. Reki rolls up the sleeves to his forearms for the thousandth time, silently cursing himself for not thinking to go shopping for dinner. As he looks at himself in the mirror--attempting to ignore his hair-- he attempts to adjust his white shirt, buttoning it up all the way. 

Reki raises his elbows, revealing the smudge of gel on his black jeans, sticking out like a sore thumb. "Great," He sighs, rubbing his bare forehead as he drags his feet out of the bathroom.

It felt odd to not wear his Christmas headband that he wore every year—he had designed it himself when he was twelve and it was black with many Christmas themed logos and designs, such as Christmas trees, candy canes, stockings, etc. But, of course, Langa had somehow managed to convince Reki to meet his mother and as a result, he is now a nervous wreck.

"Reki, come help me set up the table before the Hasegawas arrive, please!" Reki hears his mom call out to him. "Coming!" He yells, making his way to the dining room, knowing that the night is  going to end very badly.

As he opens the drawer in the kitchen, his mother turns to Reki, with her eyes wide open, letting out a quick yelp. Reki whips his head around, now a little frightened as well.

"Jesus, what is it?" Reki breathes out as she lightly touches Reki's messy hair.

"What happened, Reki? They'll be here any minute." She asks, rubbing her fingers together, feeling an oily texture from the gel and wiping it off on her apron. Reki sighs  as he rubs his temples in frustration.