Renga Oneshots

The Accident

The hospital smelled like antiseptic and quiet heartbreak.

Langa sat by Reki's bedside, hands clenched into fists in his lap, trying not to stare. He looked the same — Reki, with his ever-messy hair and that scratch on his cheek he always forgot to cover. The heart monitor beeped steadily beside him, mocking Langa with the normalcy of it all.

He was alive. But he didn't remember.

"Sorry," Reki said, for what felt like the fifth time. His voice was hoarse, like it hurt to speak. "I don't remember you."

Langa looked up. He didn't flinch. Didn't show the way his chest cracked open every time those words came out of Reki's mouth. "It's okay."

It wasn't.

The accident had been stupid. Reckless. So very Reki. A trick he hadn't practiced enough — on a course too steep, too fast. Langa had screamed his name as he fell, the world moving in slow motion as Reki's body collided with the pavement. Blood. Silence. Then sirens.

Langa had barely let go of his hand in the ambulance.

Now, three days later, here they were. Reki's mom had cried when he woke up. His sisters had laughed and cried and hugged him. And Reki remembered them.

But not Langa.

"I'm sorry," Reki said again, frowning as he picked at the edge of his blanket. "Everyone keeps saying you're my best friend. But when I look at you, I just... don't feel it."

Langa forced a smile. "Don't worry about it."

Reki looked guilty. "Were we really that close?"

"Yeah," Langa said softly. "We were."

There was a long pause. The kind that stretched between two people who used to be everything to each other — now separated by a few inches and a canyon of forgotten memories.

"Did we skate together?" Reki asked.

Langa's eyes brightened, just a little. "Every day."

Reki tilted his head. "Were we, like... good?"

Langa laughed under his breath. "You were the heart. I was the legs."

Reki blinked. "That's... weirdly poetic."

"You said it first," Langa said, and looked away before the tears could spill over. He blinked them back. Swallowed them whole.

"Did I teach you how to skate?" Reki asked, almost hopeful.

Langa hesitated. "No. You just believed I could."

Reki leaned back into his pillows. "Sounds like I liked you a lot."

Langa didn't respond.

He stood up instead, moved to the window, and pressed his forehead to the cool glass. Outside, the city moved on — buses, cars, people walking like nothing had changed.

But everything had.

He could feel Reki's gaze on his back.

"You don't have to stay," Reki said quietly.

Langa turned, leaning against the window. "I know."

"You look... sad. Every time you look at me."

Langa bit the inside of his cheek. "It's not your fault."

"I don't want to be some ghost you're chasing," Reki said. "If I don't remember... maybe we're not meant to—"

"Don't say that." Langa's voice was sharp, too loud for a hospital room.

Reki flinched.

Langa stepped closer, then sat down again, eyes locked on Reki's. "You matter to me. You're not just some memory, Reki. You're my best friend. You're—" He stopped. Looked down. "You're the reason I learned how to feel something again."

Reki stared at him, wide-eyed.

"I used to feel like I was skating on ice — always alone. Then you showed up. With your bright ideas and dumb stunts and too many snacks in your backpack. You made me want to stay."

The room was quiet.

Reki's fingers twitched on the blanket.

"Why?" he asked softly.

"Why what?"

"Why do you care so much?"

Langa hesitated. "Because I fell first."

Reki blinked. "What?"

Langa exhaled shakily. "I fell first. For you."

It hung in the air like a confession wrapped in glass — fragile and dangerous.

Reki's face went pink. "Oh."

Langa looked down. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—"

"No," Reki said quickly. "It's not— I just didn't expect that."

"You don't have to feel the same."

"I didn't say I didn't," Reki said, voice soft. "I just... I don't remember how I felt. That's the part that hurts."

Langa nodded slowly. "Then maybe... we can start over."

Reki tilted his head. "Like a second chance?"

"Like a first one," Langa said, and smiled — small but real. "Hi. I'm Langa. I skate, I suck at texting, and apparently, I'm hopelessly into reckless redheads."

Reki stared. Then, after a beat, he laughed. Loud and real and familiar.

Langa's heart leapt at the sound.

"Hi, Langa," Reki said, a glint of something — maybe curiosity, maybe something deeper — in his eyes. "I'm Reki. I forget things sometimes, but I'm pretty sure you're gonna be hard to forget."

Langa felt his chest ache, but this time it wasn't pain.

It was hope.

Maybe they wouldn't get back what they had. Not exactly. But maybe they could build something new.

And maybe this time, they'd fall together.