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Chapter Text

Reki wasn’t sure which was worse: being ditched by his roommate Miya an hour before the annual campus-wide scavenger hunt, or the fact that he had woken up half an hour late and had to run from his dorm room without eating breakfast to make it on time.

The central courtyard buzzed with life, packed with clusters of students eagerly awaiting the start of the hunt. The air hummed with excitement as each team huddled around, flipping through the glossy blue scavenger hunt packets they’d just been handed. It was like some bizarre ritual of laughter, trash talk, and friendly rivalry that had turned into one of Ueno Campus’ most beloved traditions. Some teams were decked out in custom t-shirts or matching headbands; others had brought props—

Reki swallowed back his frustration as he scanned the crowd. Everywhere he looked, it was like he was being taunted by their easy camaraderie.

So, here Reki stood—alone and clutching his own untouched packet—until the event organizer, who’d been marching around with a clipboard, spotted him.

“Hey, you! Solo participant, right?” she called over. Before Reki could respond, she gave a brisk nod and waved over someone from the outskirts. “Perfect! We’ve got another one—Langa, come here!”

Reki turned to see Langa, a lanky guy with pale blue hair, edging his way through the throng of students. Langa looked like he was caught between wanting to turn around and leave or melt into the ground where he stood. His baggy sweater hung loosely off one shoulder, and there was an awkward stiffness in the way he moved, as if he was constantly afraid of bumping into anyone.

Great. So this was his new partner. A shy, quiet guy who looked like the idea of public interaction might give him hives.

“Uh, hey,” Reki offered with a small wave as Langa shuffled up, his gaze flickering to Reki’s for a split second before darting back to the ground.

“Hey,” Langa mumbled, his voice barely audible above the chattering students. There was a hint of an accent behind his words, something familiar yet not quite right. American, maybe—but it sounded slightly off, like it was filtered through another language.

“Guess we’re partners now,” Reki said with forced cheer, clutching the blue packet a little tighter. “You got stuck in this mess too, huh?”

Langa’s shoulders slumped, a faint flush creeping up his neck. “Yeah… My roommate bailed at the last minute. Said something about not wanting to get ‘sweaty and undignified.’” His lips twitched at the words, like he was recalling the conversation in his head and was still half in disbelief.

Reki let out a surprised snort, despite himself. “Right, because crawling through shrubbery for plastic ducks is definitely beneath us all.”

For a moment, there was an awkward silence between them—the kind of heavy, uncomfortable pause that settled like a fog. Reki glanced at his unexpected partner, trying to read him. The guy was tall and quiet, his gaze flitting nervously around the courtyard as if looking for an escape route. He looked like the type who avoided crowds, which made Reki wonder why he’d even signed up for a loud, chaotic event like the scavenger hunt in the first place.

“So… uh, what’s your major?” Reki ventured, forcing a smile as he tried to break the ice.

“Creative writing,” the guy mumbled, not quite meeting Reki’s eyes. His voice was soft, almost drowned out by the excited chatter of the other students. “You?”

“Art,” Reki replied, more confidently. “Painting, specifically.” He raised a hand, as if to gesture at himself—bright clothes, sketchbook peeking out of his overstuffed backpack. He probably looked like he belonged on a canvas more than on a hunt.

Langa nodded faintly, his hands gripping his scavenger packet so tightly that Reki thought it might crumple under the pressure. “Makes sense,” he muttered.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Reki asked, half-curious, half-amused.

“Nothing, just…” Langa paused, hesitating, before his gaze flickered up for the briefest moment. “You look like you’re good at art.”

Reki wasn’t sure if it was meant to be a compliment or just an observation, but he chuckled lightly anyway. “Thanks, I guess?” He shifted on his feet, unsure what else to say.

Reki opened his mouth to say more, but just then, a bullhorn blared from the front steps, cutting through the chatter like a knife. The event organizer—a stout, excitable senior named Max—climbed onto a makeshift podium.

“All right, people! Welcome to the 20th annual Ueno Campus Scavenger Hunt!” Max shouted, his voice echoing.
“As always, you’ll have a week to complete as many challenges as possible. The team with the highest points wins the grand prize, which, as you know, is specially tailored to each member’s major! Think of it as your own personal wish list—free supplies, resources, or even exclusive mentoring sessions with some of our top professors!”

Reki’s heart gave a hopeful lurch. He needed this. With the state of his art supplies running dangerously low, winning meant more than just bragging rights. But could he pull this off with a total stranger?

Reki glanced sideways at Langa, then back up at Max, who was still holding everyone’s attention. “Now, I know some of you veterans think you’ve got this all figured out,” Max called out, his voice brimming with energy. “But we’ve got a twist this year!”

A ripple of murmurs spread through the crowd, and Reki leaned forward, curiosity piqued.

“Here’s how it’s going to work,” Max continued. “Each day, a new hint will be posted on the university website at exactly 9 a.m. sharp. This hint will lead you to a location or a challenge you have to complete—something that involves a bit of thinking, a bit of legwork, and a lot of creativity.” He paused, letting the anticipation build.

“And to prove you’ve done it, you’ll need to take a photo with your partner at the spot or doing the challenge. No solo shots, no stand-ins. We need to see both of you in the frame. Got it? To keep areas from getting too cluttered for other students not participating, we’ve assigned each team a completely different task with the same level of difficulty, so no cheating either!”

Reki glanced at Langa, raising his eyebrows. “Guess there’s no way out of it,” he muttered, half to himself. He wasn’t sure how he felt about posing with a stranger in random places all over campus, but Langa simply nodded without comment.

“Here’s the kicker,” Max went on. “You’ve got seven days. That’s right—seven days, seven hints, and you need to complete all of them. On the eighth day, one last challenge will be posted at 8 a.m. The first team to complete that final challenge and hand in their proof at the university office will be declared the winners of this year’s scavenger hunt!”

There was a collective murmur of excitement and nervous laughter as Max stepped down from the podium. The rules were clear: it wasn’t just about getting through the week, but making it to that last sprint first.

A buzz went off on Reki’s phone, startling him. He pulled it out of his pocket to see a notification from the university website. “Uh, looks like they posted the first hint,” he said, glancing over at Langa.

Langa leaned in slightly, his shoulder almost brushing against Reki’s as he peered at the glowing screen. His hair, a soft shade of pale blue, fell forward as he bent closer, brushing his cheek in a way that seemed both deliberate and completely unintentional.

“‘In the place where knowledge flows, find the one book that isn’t what it seems,’” Reki read aloud, voice dipping into a puzzled murmur. He squinted, raising his eyebrows as if that would somehow help the words make more sense. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Langa’s gaze lingered on the screen a second longer before shifting away, his voice low and almost hesitant. “Library, probably.” There it was again—that subtle lilt in his tone that made Reki’s brow furrow. It wasn’t quite American, but it wasn’t fully foreign either. A kind of mishmash accent that piqued Reki’s curiosity every time Langa spoke, making him want to ask questions unrelated to the event.

“Yeah, that would fit,” Reki mused, tapping his chin thoughtfully as if pondering some profound mystery. “But the library’s massive. How do we know which book? ‘Isn’t what it seems’ could mean almost anything.”

Langa’s brow furrowed as he considered the problem, his expression shifting into something more focused, more intense. “Maybe there’s something that stands out,” he suggested slowly, his words deliberate. “Like… a book that looks different? Or maybe it’s in the wrong section?”

Reki nodded, his earlier apprehension beginning to give way to something resembling cautious optimism. “Good point.” He took a deep breath and shoved his phone back into his pocket with more force than necessary, trying to ground himself. “I guess we’ll have to check it out. See what we can find.”

But as they stepped away from the buzzing courtyard and wove through the clusters of excited students, a lingering awkwardness hung in the air between them. The clamor of voices faded into a distant hum, leaving only the muted sound of their footsteps and the occasional rustling of paper scavenger packets. Reki resisted the urge to shove his hands into his pockets, opting instead to keep his arms loosely at his sides, as if that would somehow make things feel less strained.

“Do you, um… spend a lot of time in the library?” he asked, glancing sideways at Langa. It was an obvious question, but one he hoped would break the silence.

Langa’s gaze flickered toward him, then back to the path ahead. “Sometimes,” he replied with a small shrug. His hands were stuffed deep into his sweater pockets, his shoulders hunched ever so slightly. “It’s quiet there.”

“Right,” Reki murmured, nodding as if that made perfect sense. He hesitated for a heartbeat, then added, “I’m more of an art studio guy myself. So… I’m guessing you probably know your way around books better than I do.” He tried to laugh, but it came out sounding awkwardly self-conscious. “If you see something, just… let me know, okay?”

Langa gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, and Reki tried not to read too much into it. They fell into silence again as they neared the university library.

As soon as they stepped inside, the scent of old pages, polished wood, and that faint, intangible mustiness unique to libraries enveloped them. Reki glanced around, taking in the three floors of book-lined shelves and the clusters of students hunched over their studies in quiet alcoves. He felt almost out of place here, a splash of vivid color against the muted, scholarly backdrop.

“Okay, so where do we start?” he asked, eyes wide as he took in the vast space. He’d been to the library before, but never for anything more than a quick study session or a half-hearted attempt at research. Actually exploring it was a different experience entirely.

Langa, however, seemed unfazed. His gaze swept over the room, lingering thoughtfully on the rows of shelves. “Maybe the main collection,” he suggested, his voice steady, almost assured. “If it’s something that isn’t what it seems, it might be with the other regular books but… different somehow.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Reki agreed quickly, nodding along as if trying to convince himself that this wouldn’t be a total waste of time. “Let’s split up and—”

He caught himself and stopped short, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “Wait, no. We can’t split up if we need to take a picture together.”

To his surprise, Langa’s lips twitched in the faintest hint of a smile, his gaze flickering up to meet Reki’s for a brief moment. “Yeah, kind of defeats the point, doesn’t it?”

Reki found himself grinning back, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. “Right. Okay, then let’s check the main collection first. Maybe there’s a book that’s out of place or something.”

They moved through the library’s winding aisles, their footsteps muffled by the thick carpeting. For a few minutes, it felt like they were wandering aimlessly, Reki’s eyes scanning the spines of books with titles that seemed to blur together. History of Economics, Intermediate Physics, Advanced Political Theory… Nothing stood out.

But then, Langa stopped abruptly, his head tilted slightly to one side.

“Reki, look.”

Reki followed his gaze and felt his pulse quicken. Langa was staring at a shelf filled with chemistry textbooks, his focus fixed on a single book titled *Introduction to Chemistry*. Except… something was off. The title was printed upside down, the spine facing the wrong direction compared to the other books around it. It looked so out of place that Reki wondered how no one else had noticed it before.

“Is that it?” he asked, his voice tinged with excitement.

Langa nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. “I think so.”

Carefully, almost reverently, they pulled the book from the shelf. The cover felt oddly smooth under Reki’s fingers, the paper thick and slightly heavier than normal. And there, nestled between the pages, was a small slip of paper with a neatly printed message.

“‘Congratulations, you’ve found the first challenge!’” Reki read aloud, his voice barely above a whisper. “‘Now take a photo with the book in front of the main library sign to prove you’ve solved the hint.’”

“Easy enough,” he said, a grin spreading across his face. Maybe, just maybe, this partnership would work out after all.

-

The sunlight filtering through the towering glass windows of the library cast soft, dappled shadows on the polished marble floor as Reki and Langa stood in front of the library’s main sign. The structure itself was sleek and modern, the university’s name etched in large, bold letters across a smooth stone surface, surrounded by a small garden of meticulously trimmed hedges. It felt like the perfect spot for students to gather—or in this case, take proof-of-completion photos for the scavenger hunt.

“Okay, let’s do this,” Reki said, hoisting the Chemistry book up at an awkward angle with one arm while juggling his phone in the other. He glanced at Langa, who lingered a few steps away, his posture stiff and uncertain. Reki tilted his head slightly, motioning for Langa to come closer. “Uh, come on, scoot in. We both need to be in the shot.”

Langa hesitated, then shuffled closer until their shoulders were nearly brushing. Up close, Reki could catch the faint scent of whatever shampoo Langa used—something fresh and clean, like pine trees after the rain. Langa glanced at the phone, his expression carefully neutral, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to act.

Reki squinted at the screen, then held the phone out at arm’s length, angling it to fit them both in. “Ready?”

Langa gave a small nod, his gaze still a bit wary. Reki managed a lopsided grin at the camera and snapped the picture, quickly checking to make sure it came out all right. He scrutinized the photo—Langa looked a little stiff, but they were both visible, along with the library sign and the book title. That was what mattered.

“Got it!” Reki declared with a grin, lowering the book and flashing Langa a triumphant smile. “That was almost too easy, right?”

Langa didn’t respond right away. Instead, he shifted slightly, reaching into the pocket of his oversized sweater and pulling out the scavenger hunt packet they’d been handed earlier. The glossy pages gleamed under the light as he thumbed through them, his fingers pausing at the rules section. His brow furrowed slightly as he read aloud, “‘Each day, challenges will increase in difficulty, with the final challenge on Day Seven being the most complex. The team that completes the final challenge and returns to the office first on Day Eight will be declared the winner.’”

Reki’s grin faltered, and he let out a small huff of air, the initial thrill of success dimming a little. “Figures. So we shouldn’t get too cocky, huh?”

“Probably not,” Langa agreed softly, his tone mild but firm. He glanced up at Reki, his gaze searching as if trying to gauge his reaction. “But it’s a good start.”

“Yeah… Yeah, I guess it is.” Reki found himself lingering on Langa’s face, noticing the way his pale blue hair framed his features and the subtle gleam in his eyes. Despite the initial awkwardness between them, there was something calming about the quiet way Langa spoke. His voice, though soft, carried a kind of weight that made Reki want to listen. The accent, too, kept catching Reki off guard. It wasn’t quite American, but it wasn’t fully something else either—it was intriguing, just like the rest of him.

“Anyway,” Reki said, breaking the silence before it stretched too long. “I think we did pretty well for a couple of strangers thrown together at the last second.”

Langa’s gaze flickered, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah,” he murmured, his voice taking on a thoughtful note. “We did.”

The brief pause that followed wasn’t tense like before. Instead, it felt almost comfortable, like they were gradually settling into each other’s presence. It was a strange realization, given how strained things had been at first. Reki had written Langa off as some aloof, quiet guy who probably wouldn’t even want to talk. But now, he could see it wasn’t that Langa didn’t want to interact—it was more like Langa didn’t know how. And that… well, that made Reki want to keep talking, to draw him out even more.

He let his eyes linger on Langa’s face a moment longer. The guy was tall, with sharp features softened by the loose waves of his hair, which framed his face in a way that drew attention to his striking blue eyes. Langa was good-looking…in a subtle, almost effortless way that felt natural.

Just as Reki’s thoughts began to drift, his stomach let out a loud, insistent growl. The sound echoed embarrassingly in the relative quiet of the library’s entrance. He froze, cheeks heating as he glanced at Langa, who looked back with wide eyes, surprise flitting across his face.

“Uh—sorry about that,” Reki mumbled, scratching the back of his neck in a futile attempt to shake off the embarrassment. “Guess I kinda… forgot to eat breakfast.”

Langa blinked, then, to Reki’s surprise, his gaze softened. “Do you… want to grab something to eat, then?” he offered, his voice quieter than usual. “There’s a café nearby. It’s usually not too crowded.”

Reki blinked, momentarily taken aback. He hadn’t expected Langa to suggest hanging out. “Yeah, actually, that sounds great,” he said, a grin spreading across his face.

He didn’t have any classes for the rest of the day so he figured why not.

“I’m starving!”

They left the library and made their way onto the campus pathway. The sun hung high in the sky, casting long shadows across the cobblestone walkways. Groups of students bustled around them, voices blending into a low hum of conversation. Despite the activity, there was a kind of tranquility in the space between them—a quiet understanding that made the silence almost peaceful.

The café was nestled at the edge of a small grove of trees, a quaint, out-of-the-way spot that looked more like a cozy house than a typical campus hangout. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods wafted out as they stepped inside, mingling with the soft murmur of conversation. Reki glanced around, taking in the warm wooden interiors, the mismatched chairs, and the faint indie music playing in the background.

They settled into a corner booth by the window. Sunlight streamed in, casting soft, golden light across the table and turning Langa’s hair into a halo of pale blue. Reki ordered a sandwich and a smoothie, while Langa opted for a plain black coffee and a small pastry.

“So, um,” Reki began awkwardly, unwrapping his sandwich and taking a grateful bite. He chewed thoughtfully, searching for a topic of conversation that wouldn’t feel forced. “Creative writing, huh? What made you choose that?”

Langa glanced at his coffee, absently stirring it with a small spoon. The clink of metal against ceramic was a soft, steady rhythm. “I’ve always liked stories,” he said finally, his tone measured, like he was choosing each word carefully. “Writing’s… a way for me to make sense of things. Put thoughts into words.”

“Huh.” Reki leaned back, his sandwich forgotten as he studied Langa with renewed interest. “That’s pretty cool. I’m more of a visual person myself. Like, I could never put what I’m thinking into words the way you probably can. But art… that’s where I feel like I can really express myself, you know?”

Langa’s gaze shifted up, locking with Reki’s in a way that made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. There was a depth to Langa’s eyes, an intensity that made Reki feel like he was being seen in a way he wasn’t used to. “You mean like painting?”

“Yeah!” Reki’s face lit up, the earlier awkwardness melting away as he launched into an animated explanation of his latest project. “I’ve been working on this series inspired by street art—lots of bright colors, abstract shapes, and, uh… some stuff that probably doesn’t make sense to anyone but me.” He laughed, rubbing the back of his head. “But it’s fun. Feels like I’m pouring all my energy into something real, something that’s me.”

Langa listened quietly, his fingers wrapped around his coffee cup. He didn’t say much, but the way his eyes never left Reki’s face, the way his lips would twitch almost imperceptibly when Reki got particularly animated, made Reki feel like he was truly being heard. It was… nice. Nice in a way he hadn’t expected.

The conversation flowed more easily after that, ebbing and flowing with a natural rhythm that neither of them forced. They talked about their classes, about the scavenger hunt and the other teams they thought might be their biggest competition. Reki found himself laughing more than he’d expected, caught off guard by the occasional dry comment Langa would toss in. And despite his earlier reservations, he found himself genuinely enjoying Langa’s company.

The café slowly emptied out as the lunch rush died down, the soft clinking of dishes and quiet murmur of voices fading into a low hum. But Reki barely noticed the time passing. He was too caught up in the rhythm of their conversation, in the easy way Langa would offer his thoughts, the way his gaze would soften when Reki rambled on about art or mentioned something that seemed to spark his interest.

Reki’s enthusiasm spilled over as he gestured animatedly, trying to convey the energy and vividness of his artwork. He described the bold strokes and intricate patterns, the layers upon layers of color that bled into each other like a chaotic dance. As he spoke, Langa’s attention never wavered. He watched Reki with quiet curiosity, his gaze soft yet intense, as if committing every word to memory.

“So, yeah,” Reki finished, leaning back with a sheepish grin. “I guess that’s why I need the prize for the scavenger hunt so badly. I’m, uh… kinda broke at the moment.” He scratched his cheek awkwardly, feeling a flush creep up his neck. “Art supplies are expensive, y’know?”

Langa nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. “It sounds… amazing,” he murmured. There was something genuine in the way he said it—an unforced admiration that made Reki’s heart do a strange, unfamiliar flip. “I’d like to see it sometime. If you don’t mind.”

Reki blinked, caught off guard. Langa’s quiet compliment seemed so out of place and yet so sincere that he didn’t quite know how to respond. “Uh, yeah! Sure!” He smiled, the grin bright and genuine. “I’d love to show you. Anytime.”

Langa’s lips curved into a small smile—a real one this time, not just a polite twitch of the mouth. “Then it’s a deal.”

Reki’s grin widened, and for a moment, they sat there, the silence between them no longer awkward but filled with an unexpected warmth. The café buzzed softly around them, students chattering and cups clinking, but it all faded into the background. Reki found himself just watching Langa, caught by the way the sunlight traced delicate patterns on his pale skin, highlighting the faint blue hues of his hair.

“So, um,” Reki began, leaning forward a little, elbows propped on the table. “What about you? What’s your story?”

Langa hesitated, his gaze shifting away to stare out the window. He seemed to weigh his words carefully before speaking, his voice low and a bit distant. “I moved here a few months ago. My mom’s Japanese, but I grew up in Canada. My dad…” He trailed off, his lips pressing together briefly. “He passed away a while ago.”

Reki’s heart clenched at the quiet sadness in Langa’s tone. He opened his mouth to say something, but Langa continued before he could find the right words.

“My mom wanted to come back to Japan. Said it’d be good for me to reconnect with my roots. I wasn’t so sure, but… here I am.” He shrugged, as if it were that simple. But there was a subtle tightness in his shoulders, a tension that hinted at how much more complicated things really were.

“I’m sorry,” Reki said softly, his voice sincere. “I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like.”

Langa shook his head, a small, almost rueful smile tugging at his lips. “It’s… okay. I mean, it’s not, but…” He let out a soft sigh, his fingers tapping lightly against his coffee cup. “I’m getting used to it. New country, new university… it’s a lot.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Reki murmured. “Starting fresh somewhere new can be tough.”

They lapsed into silence for a moment, the air between them thick with unspoken thoughts. Reki’s gaze dropped to his half-eaten sandwich, and he swallowed back the urge to reach out, to offer more comfort than he knew how to give. Instead, he settled for a small, tentative smile.

“Hey, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here,” Reki said quietly. “I mean, it sucks that things happened the way they did, but… I’m glad I got to meet you.”

Langa’s eyes widened, surprise flickering across his face. For a heartbeat, he just stared at Reki, as if trying to figure out if he was being serious. Then, slowly, his expression softened.

“Thanks,” he whispered, the word almost lost in the quiet hum of the café. But Reki heard it—heard the gratitude and the hint of something fragile and uncertain beneath it. “I’m… glad I met you, too.”

The moment stretched, lingering like the final note of a song that neither of them wanted to end. Then, as if by unspoken agreement, they both glanced away, each trying to hide the small, shy smiles tugging at their lips.

Reki cleared his throat, the sound a little too loud in the soft atmosphere of the café. “So! About that scavenger hunt… You think we can really win this thing?”

Langa’s gaze sharpened, his posture straightening as he considered the question. “I don’t see why not,” he replied, his tone more confident than before. “We’ve got a good start. And… I think we can figure the rest out together.”

Reki raised his eyebrows, a grin spreading across his face. “Wow, look at you! Already believing in us, huh?”

Langa’s cheeks flushed faintly, but he didn’t look away. “Maybe,” he murmured. “You seem… capable.”

Reki’s heart did that strange flip again, and he fought to keep his voice steady. “Yeah? Well, you’re not so bad yourself, partner.”

Langa’s lips quirked in that small, almost-smile again, and Reki felt something warm and light unfurl in his chest. Maybe this scavenger hunt would be more than just a chance to win some art supplies. Maybe it was the start of something he hadn’t even realized he was looking for.

“Let’s do our best, then,” Langa said softly, his voice carrying a quiet determination that made Reki’s grin widen.

“Yeah,” Reki agreed, lifting his smoothie cup in a playful toast. “To us—Team Last Minute!”

Langa’s smile widened, and for the first time, it felt like a real, genuine smile, bright and full of promise. He lifted his coffee cup and lightly clinked it against Reki’s.

“To us.”

---

As they left the café and made their way back onto campus, Reki felt lighter somehow, like a weight he hadn’t even known was there had been lifted. The sun hung low on the horizon, casting the campus in a warm, golden glow. The shadows stretched long and lazy across the cobblestones, and the air buzzed softly with the distant hum of conversation and laughter.

They walked side by side, their pace unhurried, as if neither of them was in a rush to part ways. Reki’s hands swung loosely at his sides, and every now and then, he’d glance sideways at Langa, catching the way his hair swayed gently with each step, the way his gaze shifted from building to building as if trying to memorize every detail of this place he was still learning to call home.

“Tomorrow’s challenge…” Reki began, his voice trailing off as he searched for the right words. “Do you, um, want to meet up early? You know, so we can get a head start.”

Langa’s gaze flickered toward him, a soft surprise lighting his eyes. “Yeah,” he said slowly, as if the idea hadn’t occurred to him before but now seemed like the most natural thing in the world. “I’d like that.”

“Cool!” Reki beamed, stuffing his hands into his pockets to keep them from fidgeting. “We can meet at the courtyard again? Same time?”

Langa nodded, his smile lingering. “Sounds good.”

They paused as they reached the edge of the courtyard, the spot where they’d first been paired together what felt like a lifetime ago. Reki shifted on his feet, suddenly uncertain. He didn’t want to say goodbye just yet, but he wasn’t sure how to ask Langa to stay.

“Uh, so—”

“I should—”

They spoke at the same time, then broke off, laughing softly. Reki’s cheeks flushed, but he couldn’t stop the grin spreading across his face.

“You first,” he offered, motioning with one hand.

Langa hesitated, then glanced down at his feet, his fingers flexing slightly at his sides. “I was just going to say… thanks. For today.”

Reki’s grin softened into something warmer, something more genuine. “No problem,” he said quietly. “I had fun, too.”

Langa’s gaze lifted, and for a moment, they just stood there, the world around them fading into a soft blur of colors and sounds. Then, with a small, almost imperceptible nod, Langa turned and began to walk away, his silhouette gradually blending into the lengthening shadows.

“See you tomorrow!” Reki called after him, his voice ringing out in the quiet dusk.

Langa paused, turning just enough to lift a hand in a small wave.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his voice carrying softly on the evening breeze. “See you.”

Reki watched him go, the smile lingering on his lips long after Langa had disappeared from sight.

—-

Reki’s sneakers thudded softly against the hallway floor as he made his way back to his dorm. The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving the campus shrouded in the deep blue hues of twilight. Streetlights flickered on one by one, casting pools of soft yellow light along the path. Reki’s head buzzed with thoughts of Langa—his new partner and all the unexpected moments they’d shared today. A small smile tugged at his lips, the memory of Langa’s smile replaying in his mind like a favorite scene from a movie.

But that fleeting warmth gave way to a flare of irritation as he turned the corner and approached his dorm room. The door stood slightly ajar, the faint glow of a desk lamp spilling out into the hallway. Reki pushed it open and stepped inside, immediately greeted by the familiar sound of rapid keyboard clacks and a low hum of music.

Miya, his roommate, sat hunched over his laptop at the desk, headphones on and completely absorbed in whatever complex coding project he was tackling tonight. The kid barely looked up as Reki kicked off his shoes with more force than necessary, sending them skidding across the room and nearly hitting the base of Miya’s chair.

“Whoa, someone’s mad,” Miya drawled without turning around. His voice was tinged with that infuriating blend of boredom and amusement he always used when he knew Reki was pissed.

“Mad? No, no, why would I be mad?” Reki shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “It’s not like my ‘totally reliable’ roommate bailed on me last minute for a university-wide scavenger hunt or anything. Nope. Everything’s just peachy.”

Miya rolled his eyes, finally swiveling in his chair to face Reki. He tugged off his headphones, letting them dangle around his neck. Despite being only seventeen, Miya carried himself with the air of someone far older and infinitely more self-assured. His expression was the same mix of aloof and mildly interested that he wore for everything.

“Relax, old man,” Miya scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “I had a good reason. Professor Fujisaki wanted me to debug this stupid program for her project. You know, because apparently, no one else in the department can do it.”

Reki folded his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes. “Oh, I’m so proud,” he deadpanned. “Meanwhile, I had to partner up with some random guy I’d never met. Could’ve been a total disaster, you know?”

Miya leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head in a lazy stretch. “But it wasn’t, right?” he guessed, his gaze sharp despite the casual tone. “You’re here ranting at me instead of sulking, which means it couldn’t have gone that badly.”

Reki let out an exasperated sigh, flopping down onto his bed. “Okay, yeah, fine. It didn’t go badly. But that’s beside the point, Miya! You’re the one who roped me into this stupid scavenger hunt in the first place. You were all, ‘It’ll be good for you, Reki! Get out and socialize for once, Reki!’ And then, what do you do? You ditch me!”

Miya shrugged, unrepentant. “I knew you’d figure it out. You’re not that hopeless.”

“Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence,” Reki muttered, tossing his jacket beside with a little more force than necessary. “Seriously, though, I ended up partnered with this new guy, Langa. He’s an international student from Canada, and he’s, like… I dunno. Different.”

“Different?” Miya’s interest seemed piqued now. He leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing. “Like, different in a weird way? Or…?”

Reki hesitated, trying to find the right words. “Not weird, just… quiet. Thoughtful. He’s got this vibe, like he’s not really sure where he fits in. But he’s not awkward or anything. And he’s—” Reki stopped himself, feeling a faint heat rise to his cheeks. “He’s nice,” he finished lamely.

Miya smirked, leaning his chin on one hand as he watched Reki with a knowing glint in his eye. “Ooh, sounds like you made a new friend. Good for you, old man. Finally stepping out of your comfort zone.”

“Don’t call me that,” Reki snapped, glaring half-heartedly at Miya. “And don’t get all smug about it, either. It’s not like I had a choice.”

“But you did have a choice,” Miya pointed out, his smirk widening. “You could’ve just ditched the whole thing, but you didn’t. Which means…” He paused, letting the implication hang in the air.

Reki groaned, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes. “Okay, fine! I didn’t ditch because I wanted to see it through, alright? I didn’t want to let Langa down.”

“Ah, there it is,” Miya murmured, the satisfaction in his voice practically tangible. “You actually care.”

“Shut up,” Reki muttered, but the bite in his words was half-hearted at best. He let his hands fall away, staring up at the ceiling. “I just… I don’t know. He’s new here, and he looked kinda lost. I didn’t want to leave him hanging.”

Miya watched him quietly for a moment, something softer flickering in his gaze. Then, with a shrug, he turned back to his laptop, fingers flying over the keys as if nothing had happened. “Sounds like you did the right thing, then,” he said simply. “For a clueless old man, you’re not too bad sometimes.”

Reki rolled his eyes, but a small smile tugged at his lips. “Gee, thanks. I’ll cherish that glowing praise forever.”

Miya snorted. “Don’t get used to it. Anyway, now that you’ve survived the first day, what’s your plan for tomorrow?”

Reki blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Huh? Plan? I dunno… I guess we’re meeting up early to go over the next challenge. Figure out a strategy or something.”

Miya raised an eyebrow, glancing over his shoulder. “Wow, look at you. All organized and stuff. Guess Langa’s a good influence on you already.”

“Don’t push it,” Reki warned, but the teasing in his tone was more habit than anything else. He let out a soft sigh, his gaze drifting back to the ceiling. “I just… I dunno. I want this to go well. It’s stupid, but… I feel like I’ve gotta prove something. Like, maybe I can actually finish something I started for once.”

The room fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the rhythmic tapping of Miya’s keyboard and the distant murmur of voices from the hallway outside. After a while, Miya’s voice cut through the quiet, softer and more serious than before.

“Hey, Reki?”

“Yeah?”

Miya didn’t look up from his screen, but there was a hint of something almost like concern in his tone. “Don’t overthink it. Just… have fun. You’re good at that, remember?”

Reki’s chest tightened unexpectedly, the casual words hitting deeper than they probably should have. He swallowed, forcing himself to smile even though Miya couldn’t see it. “Yeah. I’ll try.”

Miya hummed in acknowledgement, his focus already shifting back to his work. “Good. Now, stop hogging all the dramatic energy and let me concentrate. Some of us have real responsibilities, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Reki muttered, but there was a lightness to his voice that hadn’t been there before. He shifted on his bed, glancing over at Miya’s back with a small, fond smile. “Thanks, kid.”

“Don’t call me kid, old man,” Miya shot back automatically, his tone more playful than annoyed.

And just like that, the familiar rhythm of their banter slipped back into place, the tension from earlier dissipating like mist in the morning sun. Reki closed his eyes, letting the sounds of Miya’s typing and the soft hum of the dorm settle around him. Tomorrow was another day—another challenge to tackle, another chance to see Langa and figure out where this unexpected partnership would lead.

For now, though, he was content to let things be.

Chapter Text

Reki glanced around his dorm room, taking in the usual clutter that was a testament to his chaotic lifestyle—sketchbooks strewn across the desk, coloured pencils spilling out of tins, a few crumpled papers kicked into a corner, remnants of discarded ideas and sketches. The light from the early morning sun slanted through the window, casting soft, golden bars over the mess, but it was peaceful in a way that made him want to linger.

He tightened his grip on his messenger bag and sighed. Staying in wasn’t an option, no matter how tempting it seemed. His hands itched to be at the art studio, fingers wrapped around a paintbrush instead of his phone, where unfinished designs taunted him.

He slung the bag over his shoulder.

Miya, legs folded beneath him in that cat-like way of his, glanced up from his tablet with a raised eyebrow. His dark hair fell slightly over his forehead, but his eyes—sharp and bright—peered at Reki with a faint look of curiosity. The glow from his screen highlighted the contours of his face, emphasising just how much younger he looked compared to everyone else on campus. Even so, he had a calm authority, the kind that always made Reki feel like he was under a spotlight.

“You’re up early,” Miya noted, his voice soft but edged with an unspoken question. He stretched lazily, almost like a bored feline. “Where’s the fire?”

Reki huffed, pausing near the door. “It’s 9 am, Miya. You know, a normal time for people to be awake.”

“Normal people, sure.” Miya’s gaze flickered back to the lines of code on his screen, his fingers tapping out something Reki could never quite keep up with. “But I figured you’d be crashing after yesterday’s fiasco.” He didn’t look up again, but his tone shifted almost imperceptibly—curious yet detached, a little too calm to be genuine. “So, what’s up? Running away again?”

Reki hesitated, the handle of the door cool against his fingertips. “Nah, just heading to the studio. I need to clear my head. I am meeting with Langa today for the second challenge.”

Miya’s mouth twitched into a hint of a smile, a little too knowing for Reki’s liking. “You’re always ‘clearing your head,’ Reki. Ever thought it might be better to, I don’t know… face it head-on for once?”

Reki blinked, caught off-guard by the sudden directness. He shrugged it off, forcing a grin. “What are you, my therapist? You’re not supposed to psychoanalyse me just ‘cause I forgot to set an alarm once.”

“Once?” Miya arched an eyebrow, “try every other day.”

They’d had this conversation in different variations so often that it was almost comforting. “Anyway, what about you? Still glued to that thing?” He nodded toward the tablet in Miya’s lap, where the younger boy’s fingers flitted casually over the screen.

“Someone has to stay on top of things,” Miya murmured, but there was a faint flicker in his eyes, something guarded that Reki noticed only because he knew to look for it. “Besides, it’s not like I have anything better to do.”

Reki’s shoulders relaxed a fraction. This was Miya’s way of saying he wasn’t upset—not really. He’d been reclusive these past few weeks, diving deeper into his projects than usual, and Reki had felt the distance growing between them, even if neither acknowledged it. Still, Miya was here, now, and that was enough.

“Just… don’t forget to eat, okay?” Reki shifted awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. “I won’t be around to remind you if you bury yourself in equations or whatever.”

Miya rolled his eyes but nodded, the smirk softening. “Like you’re one to talk. But sure. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good.” Reki smiled crookedly and stepped back, pulling the door open. The hallway beyond was quiet, the polished floors catching faint echoes of distant conversations and the occasional clatter of someone rushing by. He glanced over his shoulder one last time.

“You know where to find me if you need to get out of here. Or, you know, if you want a change of scenery from all that...coding stuff.” He jerked his chin toward the room, the gesture encompassing the organised chaos that Miya had made his own.

Miya looked at him for a moment, something thoughtful in the set of his jaw. Then he nodded once curtly. “Maybe I will. If I get bored.”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.” Reki laughed, a low, effortless sound that filled the small space between them. “Later, Miya.”

“Later,” Miya echoed, his gaze lingering on Reki’s retreating form for a beat longer than necessary.

With a soft click, the door swung shut, and Reki found himself alone in the hallway. The air was cooler and a touch less familiar without the quiet presence of his roommate beside him. He released a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding and squared his shoulders, heading toward the stairwell.

As he descended the flights of stairs, each step echoed with the gentle rhythm of thought. Miya was right in a way—Reki was always running, always searching for that perfect line of colour or that clean stroke of inspiration that would help him capture the rush of speed, the thrill of the moment. But what Miya didn’t see, couldn’t see, was how much those trips to the studio meant. It wasn’t just an escape—it was a reset.

The heavy doors at the building’s entrance swung open, and Reki stepped into the crisp autumn air. The campus stretched before him, tree-lined paths splashed with the reds and golds of turning leaves. Students moved in scattered clusters, voices overlapping in a low murmur that hummed through the air. He took a deep breath, the cool breeze brushing against his skin and pulling him out of his head.

Miya had his way of dealing with things. And Reki? He had his art.

Shoving his hands into his jacket pockets, Reki set off down the path to the art studio, the weight of uncertainty trailing behind him like a shadow.

When Reki arrived, the studio was empty, the early hours cloaking the room in a soft stillness that felt almost sacred. A few easels stood scattered in varying stages of use, each bearing the unique fingerprint of the student who’d last occupied it. Paints, brushes, and palettes lay abandoned in organised chaos as if frozen mid-breath in anticipation of creativity. The faint smell of turpentine and dried acrylic hung in the air, familiar and comforting.

Reki dropped his bag onto the nearest stool, the thud breaking the silence, and took a moment just to stand there. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows in thin, diagonal beams, bathing the room in a gentle, golden glow. No one else was around for once—no professors, no classmates, just him and the half-finished canvas he’d left drying the day before.

He pulled out his supplies and moved with deliberate slowness, savouring the solitude. The blank spaces on the canvas seemed to beckon him, asking to be filled, to have life breathed into them. He picked up a brush, dipped it in a swirl of warm colours, and paused, letting the silence wrap around him.

Gradually, the minutes bled into hours as he painted. His world shrank to the narrow focus of brushstrokes and colours blending beneath his hands.

He lost track of everything else, the passage of time a distant hum until a soft chime from his phone pulled him back to reality. Reki blinked as if surfacing from deep water and glanced at the screen. It was already close to 1 PM.

“Whoa, I didn’t realise it was that late,” he muttered to himself, stepping back to inspect his work. The piece wasn’t finished—not even close—but it had taken on a new shape, edges and textures starting to blend into the image he had in mind. A vague sense of satisfaction warmed his chest.

“Alright,” he sighed, wiping his hands on a cloth. “Time to switch gears.”

He packed up his materials, giving the painting one last look before leaving the studio. As much as he’d have liked to stay and work longer, he knew another puzzle was waiting for him, one that involved more than just his thoughts. And, more importantly, Langa was probably already waiting.

The art building’s heavy doors swung shut behind him, the soft click of the latch fading into the midday buzz of the campus. The sky overhead was a clear blue, the crisp air invigorating as he jogged down the stone steps, a lightness in his step. He found himself wandering toward their meeting spot—the small courtyard tucked away behind a line of oaks where the meetinghad been yesterday and where the sun pooled lazily and foot traffic remained minimal.

Sure enough, Langa was already there, leaning casually against the low brick wall with his phone in one hand. He looked up as Reki approached, his mouth curling into a small, relaxed smile.

“Hey,” Langa greeted, his voice soft yet steady.

“Hey yourself.” Reki grinned, wiping a stray bit of paint from his cheek. “Sorry if I kept you waiting. Got caught up in the studio.”

Langa shook his head, the motion sending a few strands of his blue-tinted hair falling over his eyes. “It’s fine. I thought you’d be there.”

“Right. ‘Cause you know me so well,” Reki teased, but the warmth in his voice made it clear that he appreciated it. He plopped down beside Langa and tilted his head. “So, what’s the next clue?”

Langa pulled out his phone, opening the app that contained the scavenger hunt’s progress. The screen showed a new notification—another riddle.

“Look where sound turns to sight, and sight turns to sound, where the walls whisper secrets and the floorboards resound. Hidden amidst history and the voices of old, find the place where stories unfold.”

Reki raised an eyebrow. “Okay, that’s… definitely a step up from yesterday.” He reread the clue, his brow furrowing in thought. “So, it’s a place with history? And something to do with sound…?”

Langa’s gaze was thoughtful, his blue eyes narrowed as if searching through a mental library. “Could it be the old theatre house? The one that’s half a museum now?”

“Maybe…” Reki tilted his head, considering. “But that’s too obvious, don’t you think? This feels more… quirky. Like, it’s trying to point to something that we wouldn’t notice.”

The two of them fell into a comfortable silence, each turning the riddle over in their minds. Then Reki snapped his fingers, eyes lighting up.

“Wait! What about the old music hall? The one near the south quad?”

Langa’s eyebrows rose. “The one that’s half acoustic experiment, half weird art installation?”

“Yeah, that’s the one! I went there once for an exhibit during my first year. They’ve got this soundproof room where they display all these ancient instruments, and there’s this section with walls covered in people’s stories and poems. It’s like a little hidden museum. Plus, they play classical music while projecting old videos on the walls. Sound turning to sight and vice versa, right?”

Langa considered it, then nodded slowly. “That… actually fits. And it’s unique enough that it wouldn’t be a first guess for most people.”

“Exactly!” Reki shot to his feet, energy sparking in his movements. “Let’s check it out. I bet the clue’s pointing us there.”

With a quick nod, Langa stood as well, and together they set off down the winding paths of the campus, cutting across a field and weaving between quiet, tree-lined walkways. The building stood a little way off from the more populated parts of the university, a tall, ivy-covered structure nestled in a secluded corner.

Its sign, in delicate script, read:
“Harmony Hall”.
The entrance was guarded by two large, intricately carved wooden doors that looked like they belonged in an old, Gothic novel. Reki hesitated for a moment, then pushed them open, the hinges creaking softly in the quiet afternoon air.

Inside, the air was thick with the scent of old wood and something faintly metallic. Tall, narrow windows let in thin beams of light that scattered across the polished floor. Instruments—everything from violins to ancient phonographs—were displayed in glass cases along the walls, each with a small plaque detailing its history. One corner of the room was sectioned off, the walls there covered in old, yellowed pages, each one scrawled with different handwriting.

“This has to be the place,” Reki whispered, awe in his voice. He glanced over at Langa, who was looking around with the same sense of wonder. “We just have to figure out where the next hint is hidden.”

“Maybe it’s in one of the poems?” Langa suggested, nodding toward the wall of text.

“Maybe…” Reki agreed, stepping closer. The sound of soft, classical music started playing from hidden speakers as he approached, mingling with the words written on the wall, transforming the place into a living, breathing puzzle.

The quiet hum of classical music reverberated softly through the air, mingling with the faint creak of wooden floorboards under their feet as Reki and Langa spread out across the room. Reki paused by a glass case housing a tarnished old gramophone, his gaze skimming over the delicate curves and the way the light glinted off the metal.

“Alright, where do we start?” he murmured, casting a glance over at Langa, who was leaning over a dusty piano. His fingers hovered just above the keys, but he didn’t press down, as if the weight of history in the room was warning them to be gentle.

“Maybe the walls?” Langa suggested, his voice low, almost reverent. “If they’re going with the whole ‘sight and sound’ theme, it makes sense for the hint to be hidden among the writing or in one of the exhibits.”

Reki nodded thoughtfully and moved closer to the wall of text they’d spotted earlier. His eyes darted over the uneven lines of handwriting—some neat and tiny, others sprawling and bold. Each one seemed to tell a different story. Short poems about love and loss, long-winded rants about the stress of university life, whimsical musings on the nature of sound—all written by countless students who’d passed through this hall over the years.

They began to search, tracing their fingers lightly over the pages, leaning in close to inspect the script. At first, they were methodical, reading each section with care, but as the minutes stretched on, their patience wavered.

“Ugh, why does it feel like we’re looking for a needle in a haystack?” Reki groaned, stepping back to get a better view of the wall as a whole. “There are so many words, and none of them are jumping out.”

“Maybe it’s not in the words, then,” Langa said, tilting his head. “Maybe it’s something else—a hidden mark or symbol.”

“Great, now we’re looking for a needle in a haystack in the dark.” Reki sighed dramatically, though there was a playful light in his eyes. “Next thing you know, we’ll be told we have to count every letter ‘E’ in here.”

Langa’s lips quirked in amusement. “If that’s the case, you’re on your own.”

“Gee, thanks.” Reki rolled his eyes, but a grin tugged at his lips. He glanced around, trying to find a new angle. “I guess I’ll take the left side of the room, and you can take the right?”

“Sure.” Langa’s gaze drifted over to a dusty old harp in the corner, then back to the wall. “You think it might be behind something? Or—”

“Or it’s hidden in plain sight, and we’re just blind,” Reki cut in, his tone only half-serious. He huffed and knelt down, inspecting the baseboard. “If I find out they hid the clue in a crack or something, I’m going to lose it.”

Langa chuckled softly, his fingers ghosting over the pages again, this time not focusing on the text itself but on the texture, the small, almost imperceptible differences in the paper. They worked like this for a while, each quietly musing aloud now and then. Gradually, the initial frustration gave way to a kind of light-hearted acceptance. They weren’t getting anywhere fast, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t make the best of it.

“So, what do you think would happen if I, like, ‘accidentally’ knocked over that harp?” Reki asked after a while, his voice conspiratorial as he glanced at the tall, ornate instrument in the corner.

Langa raised an eyebrow, suppressing a smile. “You’d probably get banned from Harmony Hall forever.”

Reki let out an exaggerated sigh. “Guess I’ll have to resist the temptation, then. Though I’m not gonna lie, I bet it’d make a pretty satisfying crash.”

“Not worth the damage.” Langa paused, then continued. “Plus, you’d never live it down if they put up a sign saying ‘No Rekis Allowed.’”

Reki snorted, caught off guard. “Wow, betrayal from my own partner. I see how it is.”

“I’m just being realistic.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Reki’s grin widened, and he straightened up, gesturing around the room grandly. “Anyway, if I can’t destroy priceless artifacts, maybe I should just start speaking to the walls, y’know? Like, ask them where they hid the stupid hint.”

Langa’s smirk softened into something gentler. “You think the walls will answer?”

“Probably not, but hey, it couldn’t hurt to try!” Reki leaned in close to the wall, cupping his hand over his mouth like he was sharing a secret. “Alright, Mr. Wall, I know you’re hiding something. Wanna help a guy out?”

For a moment, there was silence. Then Langa, unable to help himself, added in a mock-serious tone, “Tell us where the clue is, or we’ll bring in the wrecking crew.”

Reki choked on a laugh, his eyes crinkling with mirth. “Wow, going straight for the threats. I like it.”

“Desperate times,” Langa replied solemnly, but there was a spark of amusement in his gaze.

They continued like this, bantering back and forth, coming up with increasingly ridiculous ways to ‘interrogate’ the room. Reki pretended to reason with the dusty piano, promising to play it the worst rendition of ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star’ if it didn’t cough up the hint. Langa joined in, his usually quiet demeanor loosening into something more animated, suggesting that maybe they should try ‘bribing’ the antique phonograph with a playlist of modern pop music.

Time slipped by unnoticed, their laughter echoing softly in the empty hall. The frustration from earlier was gone, replaced by a shared sense of camaraderie and mischief. It was like they’d stepped into their own little world, where finding the clue was almost secondary to the fun they were having.

Eventually, Reki found himself standing by the wall of text again, his gaze wandering absently over the yellowed pages. He lifted a hand to brush at the edge of one particularly crumpled sheet—only to pause when something caught his eye. There, in the lower corner of the paper, almost hidden by a shadow, was a small, embossed symbol.

“Langa,” Reki called, excitement buzzing in his voice. “I think I found something!”

Langa was at his side in an instant, his eyes sharp as he followed Reki’s pointing finger. The symbol—a tiny spiral surrounded by a circle—was pressed into the paper, almost invisible unless you knew where to look. Langa reached out and pressed his finger against it gently.

There was a soft click, and then a panel of the wall swung inward, revealing a small compartment. Inside, resting atop a stack of old concert programs, was a neatly folded piece of paper. Reki snatched it up.

“Got it!” he exclaimed, grinning widely as he scanned the note.

Langa leaned in, reading over Reki’s shoulder.

“See? Told you the walls would answer us eventually.”

Langa’s lips quirked. “Guess we just had to ask the right way.”

“Ha, yeah!” Reki’s laughter was bright, unrestrained. “Maybe we should’ve tried singing to it earlier.”

“Or threatening it with more bad music.”

“Hey, ‘Twinkle, Twinkle’ isn’t that bad!”

“Hmmm, depends on who’s playing it.”

Reki mock-glared at Langa, but his eyes were twinkling. “You’re lucky I like you, Langa.”

For a moment, they just stood there, grinning at each other, the thrill of discovery still thrumming between them. Then Reki shook his head and began unfolding the paper.

Reki began reading it out loud, “take a photo of you two beside the cabinet and pull a silly face.”

“…It kinda feels like they’re mocking us.” Reki’s tone was exaggeratedly affronted, but the gleam of humor in his eyes gave him away. “You think they’ll believe we really spent this long finding it?”

Langa shrugged, his mouth curving into a small smile. “Depends on how silly the face is.”

Reki rolled his eyes but couldn’t help grinning. “Well, fine. Let’s get it over with, then. I’ll set up the shot.”

He pulled out his phone and fiddled with it, finding a good angle that caught both them and the half-hidden compartment. The light in Harmony Hall was soft, almost too dim, but it gave the space a kind of ethereal glow that Reki found oddly charming. He positioned them beside the wall, holding his phone out.

“Okay, ready?” he asked, throwing a quick glance at Langa. “We’ve gotta sell it.”

“Right,” Langa agreed, but there was a flicker of something—hesitation?—in his eyes. Then, as the camera beeped in preparation for the shot, he leaned closer to Reki, sticking his tongue out slightly and crossing his eyes in a way that was so exaggerated and awkward that Reki almost dropped his phone in surprise.

“Whoa, okay—!” Reki barely managed to keep his balance, his own face contorting into something halfway between a laugh and a grimace as he tried to keep up with Langa’s sudden energy.

The camera clicked, capturing the moment in a blurry whirl of grins and twisted expressions.

Reki glanced down at the image, a breath of laughter escaping him. “Oh, man. We look ridiculous.”

Langa peeked over, and a quiet chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Ridiculous enough to convince them?”

“Definitely.” He slipped his phone back into his pocket. He shifted on his feet, a sense of lingering satisfaction settling over him. “Guess that’s our afternoon mystery solved.”

“Yeah,” Langa said softly. He didn’t move away, still standing a little too close, and Reki’s heart did a strange little flutter at the proximity. It wasn’t uncomfortable—just… new.

For a moment, they simply stood there, the air between them charged with a pleasant sort of tension. The laughter from earlier still lingered, but now there was something quieter beneath it. Something Reki couldn’t quite name.

He cleared his throat, stepping back slightly to put some space between them. “So, uh… do you have any classes later?”

“Yeah…,” Langa replied, his gaze never quite leaving Reki’s face. “It’s at two thirty.”

“Oh, nice.” Reki nodded, absently fiddling with the strap of his blue denim shoulder bag. “I don’t have any classes today, but… you know.” He trailed off, feeling a bit awkward all of a sudden. “I’ve got nothing planned this evening.”

Langa seemed to understand the unspoken question hovering in the air. He tilted his head slightly, a thoughtful look passing over his face. “So, you’re free this evening?”

“Uh, yeah.” Reki scratched the back of his neck, feeling oddly exposed. He hadn’t actually expected Langa to pick up on that so quickly. “Why?”

Langa hesitated, then shrugged lightly, as if the words he was about to say were no big deal. “We could hang out later. After classes, I mean.”

Reki blinked, caught off guard. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah.” Langa’s smile was small, almost tentative, but there was something warm about it. “I thought… maybe we could go to the student lounge or something? I’ve been meaning to check it out.”

The suggestion was so simple, so casual, but it sent a strange surge of warmth through Reki’s chest. He’d spent so much of his time at university alone, keeping his head down, moving through classes and activities without really connecting with anyone. It wasn’t that he hadn’t tried—there’d just never been that spark, that sense of ease that he felt right now, standing beside Langa.

The realization made him a little giddy. He found himself nodding before he even fully processed the words. “Yeah, that sounds great! I—I mean, I haven’t been there much either, so it could be fun.”

“Cool.” Langa’s expression softened, the corners of his eyes crinkling just a little. “We’ll meet up then? Let’s say six?”

“Sure,” Reki said quickly, then cleared his throat, trying to sound more nonchalant. “Yeah, I’ll see you then.”

“Alright.” Langa’s gaze lingered for a second longer, and then he turned, gesturing toward the door. “We should probably head out.”

“Right, right.” Reki followed him, his own smile lingering even as they left Harmony Hall behind and stepped back out into the crisp afternoon air. The sunlight felt brighter now, the campus almost buzzing with life as students moved in groups, chatting and laughing on their way to various classes and activities.

They fell into step together, Reki glancing sideways at Langa every so often, just to make sure he wasn’t imagining the way they seemed to naturally fall into sync. It was such a small thing, and yet it made him feel strangely… content.

“You know,” Reki started, as they walked, “I never really thought I’d enjoy a scavenger hunt this much.”

Langa’s expression was thoughtful, his gaze focused somewhere in the distance. “You think it’s the scavenger hunt?”

Reki’s steps faltered for just a moment, then he shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. “Nah, I guess not. It’s more like… I didn’t expect to find a friend.”

There was a beat of silence, and Reki almost regretted saying it out loud. But then Langa’s smile grew just a little wider, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that quiet, genuine way of his.

“Same here,” Langa murmured.

“Yeah,” Reki agreed softly. The word felt heavy with everything he couldn’t quite put into words. He glanced away, focusing on the path ahead. “Anyway, uh, I guess we should split up now. Don’t wanna make you late for class.”

“Right.” Langa nodded, taking a small step back. “I’ll see you this evening?”

“Definitely.” Reki raised a hand in a wave, feeling strangely buoyant. “Catch you later, Langa.”

Langa nodded once more, then turned and headed off in the direction of his lecture. Reki watched him go, a small, inexplicable smile still on his lips.

Reki lingered for a moment after Langa left, watching his retreating figure as he walked the direction away from him. The smile on his face refused to fade and there was a lightness in his chest he couldn’t quite explain, something that made the whole campus seem brighter, more alive. It was hard to believe that just a few weeks ago, he’d been dreading another semester of routine classes and solitary lunches. Now, for the first time, it felt like there was something—or maybe someone—to look forward to.

With a deep breath, he shook himself out of his thoughts and made his way back to the art studio. As he pushed through the heavy double doors, the familiar scent of turpentine and dried paint greeted him. The room was no longer the quiet, deserted refuge it had been that morning. Now, clusters of students were spread out across the studio, chatting in low voices or working on their projects. The murmur of conversations and the scratch of pencils against canvas filled the space.

Reki hesitated by the entrance, taking it all in. He recognized a few faces—classmates he’d seen around but never really spoken to. He shifted on his feet, feeling a brief flicker of awkwardness.
‘Was it weird that I liked it better when it was empty?’ he wondered.

“Hey, Reki!” A voice called out from a nearby workstation, breaking through his thoughts. He turned to see one of the upperclassmen, Hiro, waving a paint-stained hand in greeting. “Back so soon? Didn’t expect to see you again until tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I just…” Reki scratched his cheek, suddenly self-conscious. “Wanted to get some more work done on my project.”

“Of course you did.” Hiro chuckled, the sound light and friendly. He gestured to his own canvas, which was dominated by a swirling mass of blues and greens. “Don’t overwork yourself, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Reki muttered, waving off the comment as he made his way to his own corner of the studio. But despite himself, he felt a small smile tug at his lips. It was nice to be acknowledged, even if just in passing. It’s didn’t happen that often.

Settling into his usual spot by the window, Reki unpacked his supplies. He glanced at his latest canvas—a half-finished piece depicting a swirl of vibrant colors, almost like a cityscape seen through a kaleidoscope—and let out a small breath. As much as he loved painting, he found it hard to focus sometimes, especially when his thoughts were… elsewhere.

And right now, his thoughts were on a certain blue-haired guy with a quiet smile and soft, careful words.

‘Focus,’ he scolded himself, reaching for his paintbrush. He dipped it in a deep shade of crimson, trying to anchor himself in the familiar sensation of brush against canvas. He let the colors flow, his strokes becoming more confident, more expressive as he let his mind drift. He lost track of time for a while, the background noise of the studio fading into a gentle hum. Before he knew it, over an hour had passed, and the studio had started to thin out as students packed up for their afternoon classes.

Reki stepped back, surveying his work. The piece had evolved into something almost tangible—an impressionistic depiction of a bustling scene filled with movement and light. But there was something different about it today. The lines felt softer, the colors warmer, as if a new kind of energy had seeped into his art without him even realizing it.

He smiled faintly, wiping his hands on a rag. “I guess even my paintings know I’m in a good mood,” he murmured.

But as much as he wanted to stay and keep working, he knew he needed a break. He glanced at his watch and realized with a start that it was already nearing five. His meet-up with Langa was at six, and if he wanted to be even remotely presentable, he’d need to head back to his dorm and change.

The thought made him pause. Since when did he care about looking nice for a casual hangout? But then again, this wasn’t just any hangout. It was the first time in a long while that he was spending time with someone because he wanted to, not because he had to.

With that thought in mind, he packed up his things, waved a quick goodbye to the remaining students in the studio, and made his way back to his dorm.

The moment he stepped inside his room, he was greeted by the sight of Miya sprawled on his bed, headphones on and a gaming console in hand. The younger boy looked up, his eyebrows shooting up at the sight of Reki’s paint-splattered clothes and messy hair.

“Wow, you look like you’ve been through a colour war,” Miya said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Reki rolled his eyes, making a beeline for his closet. “Art can be intense, okay?”

“Sure, if by ‘intense’ you mean making a huge mess,” Miya teased, smirking as he watched Reki sift through his clothes. “Why are you rushing? Got a hot date or something?”

Reki scoffed, but a faint blush crept up his neck. “It’s not a date. I’m just… meeting up with a friend.”

“A friend?” Miya’s tone was incredulous. “Since when do you have friends?”

“Ha ha, very funny,” Reki muttered, pulling out a plain white shirt and a pair of jeans. He held them up thoughtfully, then tossed them aside in favor of something slightly nicer—a navy button-up that wasn’t too formal but still looked put-together. “It’s just Langa, okay? We’re gonna hang out at the student lounge.”

Miya’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Langa? Who’s that?”

Reki paused, glancing at him. “I told you about him last night, remember? He’s my partner for the scavenger hunt.”

“Oh, right.” Miya shrugged, turning back to his game. “The quiet guy, right? I didn’t think he’d actually wanna hang out with you outside of that.”

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence,” Reki grumbled, quickly changing into the button-up and running a hand through his hair to smooth it down. He didn’t want to look like he was trying too hard, but… there. That was good enough. Satisfied, he grabbed his bag and headed for the door.

“Don’t wait up,” he called over his shoulder.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Miya muttered.

---

By the time Reki arrived at the student lounge, the sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the campus. The lounge was softly lit, the atmosphere relaxed and welcoming. A few students were scattered around, some lounging on the couches, others chatting quietly in groups.

Reki glanced around until he spotted Langa sitting near the back, his blue hair catching the soft light filtering through the windows. He looked… comfortable, his posture relaxed as he scrolled through something on his phone.

“Hey,” Reki called out as he approached, dropping into the seat beside him at the table.

Langa looked up, his expression brightening just a fraction. “Hey. You made it.”

“Yeah, of course.” Reki shifted in his seat, feeling a sudden burst of energy. “So, what do you want to do?”

Langa’s gaze flicked toward the activity corner, where a small group of students were playing a board game. “I thought we could try something different.”

Reki followed his gaze, his smile widening. “Sure! I’m up for anything.”

They ended up joining a trivia game that was already in progress, and it quickly devolved into Reki giving increasingly ridiculous answers just to see Langa crack a smile. The other students looked at them with a mix of amusement and confusion, but Reki didn’t care. Seeing Langa’s quiet laughter, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, made it all worth it.

When the trivia game wrapped up, they moved on to the foosball table. Langa turned out to be surprisingly good, and they spent the next half-hour locked in a heated back-and-forth. Reki yelled in triumph whenever he scored, while Langa’s lips twitched in satisfaction whenever he made a clever comeback.

“So,” Reki panted after scoring yet another goal. “You’ve been hiding your foosball skills this whole time?”

Langa shrugged, a small, almost sheepish smile on his face. “I used to play with my mom a lot. Guess I’m a little rusty.”

“Rusty?” Reki scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. “Dude, I think you just destroyed me.”

Langa’s smile widened, the expression almost teasing. “Maybe I was just holding back.”

Reki let out a dramatic groan, clutching his chest as if wounded. “Oh, the betrayal!”

Langa’s laughter was soft but genuine, and for a moment, Reki just stood there, caught up in the sound. It felt… easy. Like they’d known each other for longer than just a couple days.

Somewhere along the way, the conversation flowed into more personal territory. They talked about their classes, their families, their likes and dislikes. Reki found himself sharing stories he hadn’t thought about in years—memories from high school, random anecdotes about his sisters, the way his love for art had shaped his life.

“Your sisters sound like a handful,” Langa commented with a small smile after Reki finished a particularly funny story about their antics.

“They are,” Reki agreed, shaking his head fondly. “But I wouldn’t trade them for anything.”

Langa nodded thoughtfully. “You’re lucky, though. To have that kind of family. It’s nice.”

The words were quiet, almost wistful, and Reki felt something soften in his chest. He glanced at Langa, taking in the faint smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah,” he murmured softly. “It is.”

Before they knew it, hours had passed. The lounge had emptied out, and the sky outside had darkened completely. They were still sitting at the same table from where their hangout began, laughter and quiet smiles lingering between them like a comfortable, shared space.

“Wow,” Reki murmured, glancing at the time. “We’ve been here for ages.”

“Yeah,” Langa said softly, his gaze lingering on Reki’s face. “But… it didn’t feel that long.”

Reki felt a flutter of something in his chest—a kind of warmth he couldn’t quite define. He smiled, a little shyly. “No, it didn’t.”

-

Reki and Langa stepped out of the student lounge, the cool evening air brushing against their skin. The campus was quiet, bathed in the soft glow of streetlights. Most of the students had headed back to their dorms or apartments by now, leaving the pathways almost empty. The tranquility of the moment was comforting, the kind of calm that settles in after a day well-spent.

“Wanna grab some food?” Reki suggested, shoving his hands into his pockets as they walked side by side.

Langa tilted his head thoughtfully, his breath fogging in the cool night air. “Yeah. Sure. But where?”

“There’s this little café near campus—Ramenya, I think it’s called?” Reki said, his voice picking up with enthusiasm. “They have the best ramen bowls. Perfect for late-night munchies.”

Langa nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Sounds good. I’m starving.”

The café was only a short walk away, tucked into a quiet corner of the neighborhood. The sign above the door was modest, the warm light from the inside spilling out onto the street. As they stepped inside, the rich scent of broth and simmering spices enveloped them. It was cozy, the kind of place that felt welcoming no matter who you were.

They found a small table by the window, and Reki grabbed the laminated menu, eyes scanning it eagerly. “Okay, I’m telling you now: you have to try their tonkotsu ramen. It’s the stuff dreams are made of.”

“Is it your favorite?” Langa asked, peering over the menu at him.

“Absolutely,” Reki said, grinning. “But if you’re feeling adventurous, their miso ramen’s pretty good, too. Or, oh, the spicy beef bowl! That one’s got a kick.”

Langa raised an eyebrow, amused. “You sound like you’ve tried everything here.”

“Guilty as charged.” Reki laughed, then leaned in a little, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “The owner knows me by name. It’s kinda embarrassing, actually.”

“I think it’s nice,” Langa said simply, his gaze steady on Reki. “Shows that you know what you like.”

Reki blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in Langa’s voice. His smile softened, a little less teasing and a little more genuine. “Thanks, man. I guess I never thought about it like that.”

After placing their orders—Reki going for his beloved tonkotsu and Langa opting for the spicy beef bowl—they settled into an easy conversation. The café wasn’t too crowded, just a few other students and locals scattered around, and the low hum of conversations blended with the faint sound of music playing in the background.

“So, tell me more about Canada,” Reki said, leaning back in his seat. “What’s it like?”

Langa’s face lit up at the question, and he started describing his hometown with a kind of quiet fondness. He talked about the long winters and the way snow would blanket everything in a soft, untouched white. He described the icy lakes and the small mountain trails where he used to snowboard with his dad. Reki listened intently, picturing the scenes in his mind.

“It sounds beautiful,” Reki murmured when Langa finished, his voice tinged with awe. “I’ve never seen that much snow. I mean, we get some here, but it’s nothing like what you’re talking about.”

“It is,” Langa agreed softly, his gaze distant, as if lost in a memory. “I miss it sometimes.”

Reki tilted his head, studying him. “So why’d you come here, then? If you miss it so much.”

Langa hesitated, then shrugged slightly. “I guess… I wanted something different. A change of pace, maybe. I had lived in Canada my entire life and Japan is where I was originally born so…”

Reki’s throat tightened, something unspoken hanging between them. He cleared his throat, searching for something to say that didn’t feel heavy or awkward. “Well, I’m glad you came. I mean, who else would I be teaming up with for the scavenger hunt, right?”

Langa’s smile widened, a faint chuckle escaping him. “Yeah. Wouldn’t want to leave you to fend for yourself.”

“Hey, I’d do fine on my own!” Reki protested, leaning forward. “I’m an amazing detective, you know. Got all the skills—deduction, quick thinking, a nose for clues…”

“A nose for getting lost, maybe,” Langa teased, his eyes sparkling with quiet laughter.

“Rude!” Reki spluttered, but he couldn’t hold back his grin. “You know, one of these days, I’m gonna surprise you and solve one of those clues before you even get a chance to think.”

“Looking forward to it,” Langa said, his tone playful.

Their food arrived then, steaming bowls of ramen that filled the air with an even richer aroma. Reki’s mouth practically watered at the sight of his bowl—perfectly cooked noodles floating in a creamy broth, topped with slices of tender pork and a soft-boiled egg.

“Okay, moment of truth,” Reki declared, watching as Langa picked up his chopsticks. “If you hate it, I’m never recommending a place again.”

Langa took a bite, chewing thoughtfully before swallowing. He glanced at Reki, lips twitching.

“It’s really good.”

Reki let out a triumphant cheer, earning a few amused glances from the other patrons. “Knew it! You’ve got great taste, Langa. Welcome to the tonkotsu fan club.”

“Pretty sure I ordered the spicy beef,” Langa pointed out dryly, but the amusement in his eyes took the edge off his words.

“Details, details,” Reki waved it off, digging into his own bowl with gusto. The rest of the meal passed in a comfortable mix of conversation and laughter. They swapped stories, Langa sharing a particularly funny anecdote about getting lost in Tokyo the first time he visited, while Reki nearly choked on his noodles when he tried to describe the time he accidentally painted himself into a corner—literally—during an art project.

By the time they finished eating, Reki’s stomach ached from laughing so much, and his cheeks hurt from smiling. He hadn’t realized just how easy it was to be around Langa, how quickly the hours slipped by when they were together.

“So,” Langa began as they leaned back in their chairs, the remnants of their meal scattered across the table. “What do you think tomorrow’s clue will be?”

Reki frowned thoughtfully, tapping his chin. “It could be anything, really. Last year, they made us solve a riddle about the campus library’s oldest book.

“Maybe it’ll be something related to art,” Langa suggested. “Since that’s your specialty.”

“Or maybe it’ll be a food-related challenge,” Reki shot back, grinning. “In which case, I’m counting on you and your ramen-eating skills.”

Langa snorted softly. “Sure, Reki. I’ll eat us to victory.”

“Hey, don’t underestimate the power of food!” Reki chuckled, then grew a bit more serious. “But honestly… I’m not too worried. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out together, right?”

“Yeah,” Langa agreed quietly. “Together.”

For a moment, their gazes met, something unspoken passing between them. The world outside seemed to narrow, the café fading into the background until it was just the two of them, sitting across from each other in the warm, intimate glow of the lights.

Reki felt his chest tighten, but it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. It was like the anticipation before a race, the kind of nervous excitement that made everything sharper, clearer.

“Ready to head out?” Langa’s voice broke the spell, and Reki blinked, realizing how long they’d been sitting there.

“Yeah,” he said softly, then straightened, flashing a grin. “Let’s get out of here before they kick us out for overstaying our welcome.”

Langa chuckled, and together, they gathered their things, stepping out into the cool night air once more.

-

The familiar, slightly musty scent of detergent and dryer sheets clung to the air in the dorm laundry room, mixing with the low whirr of machines and the occasional clank of loose change tumbling in someone’s pocket. Reki leaned against a wobbly table that was probably older than half the students in the building, his arms crossed over his chest and his foot tapping restlessly on the cracked linoleum floor.

It was a little after 11 AM, and Reki had decided to tackle his laundry. The room was almost deserted except for one girl folding her clothes in the far corner, earbuds firmly in place, and an abandoned cart stuffed with crumpled towels near the entrance. Perfect conditions for some uninterrupted, boring chores.

But, of course, nothing could ever be that simple.

“Come on, don’t do this to me now…” Reki muttered under his breath, staring down at the washing machine in front of him like he could will it into cooperating. The little timer on the display flashed a stubborn red error code at him, and the machine let out a series of disjointed beeps, like it was having an identity crisis.

Reki sighed, rubbing his temple. He’d been standing here for over twenty minutes, waiting for the cycle to finish. Now, the clothes inside were soaked and soapy, and the machine looked like it was having a breakdown.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” He kicked the base of the washer lightly, only to yelp and hop back when it let out a deep, mechanical groan. “What—are you mad at me or something?” He pressed a few buttons—first cautiously, then harder, like more pressure might somehow convince the ancient appliance to come back to life. “Ugh, work, you stupid thing!”

The girl folding her clothes glanced up briefly, raising an eyebrow before turning back to her task, clearly deciding not to involve herself with whatever drama was going on between Reki and the uncooperative washer.

“Fine! Whatever!” Reki threw his hands up in exasperation. He yanked the washer door open, and immediately, a flood of lukewarm water sloshed out onto his shoes. “Oh, great. Perfect. That’s just what I needed today.”

Mumbling a string of less-than-polite words under his breath, he grabbed his half-washed, dripping clothes and dumped them unceremoniously into his laundry basket. The fabric squished wetly under his hands, and he grimaced, wiping his damp palms on his hoodie as he glared at the other machines along the wall.

“Alright, which one of you is gonna ruin my day next?” he asked, scanning them suspiciously. One of the newer washers gleamed innocently back at him, and Reki sighed, trudging over to it. “Let’s try this again.”

He dumped the clothes inside, slamming the door shut and feeding the machine a few extra quarters, just for good measure. He jabbed at the start button, and this time, to his immense relief, the washer hummed obediently to life, the drum rotating in slow, soothing circles.

“Thank you!” Reki groaned, sagging back against the counter. He rubbed a hand over his face, feeling the tension drain out of his shoulders. “Just… stay like that, okay?”

He glanced at his watch—12pm already. There went his plan for a quick, painless laundry day. With a deep sigh, he dragged himself back to his dorm to shower and get ready, trying not to think about the cursed machine downstairs that had nearly derailed his whole day.

---

The campus quad buzzed with the usual mid-afternoon energy—students lounging on benches, small groups clustered under the shade of trees, and skateboarders weaving through the open pathways with practiced ease. Reki spotted Langa almost immediately, his blue hair standing out like a beacon as he leaned casually against the stone fountain at the center of the quad.

“Hey!” Reki called, jogging up to him. His hair was still slightly damp from his earlier shower, and a few rebellious strands stuck out awkwardly. He tried to smooth them down with one hand, giving Langa a sheepish grin. “Sorry I’m late. Had a… rough morning with laundry.”

Langa’s eyes softened with amusement, his lips twitching in a barely restrained smile. “Laundry disaster, huh?”

“You have no idea.” Reki groaned, rolling his shoulders as if he could shrug off the lingering frustration. “The washer basically exploded on me. I had to switch machines and lost, like, an hour of my life to that nightmare.”

“Sounds messy.” Langa’s tone was light, but his gaze flickered with something like concern. “Are your clothes okay?”

“Eh, mostly,” Reki shrugged. “but I managed to get it done.” He shot Langa a lopsided grin. “Enough about that, though. Let’s see what today’s clue is!”

He pulled out his phone, navigating to the scavenger hunt page. The clue for the day popped up, written in the same playful, cryptic style as the previous ones:

“Where knowledge and nature intertwine, find the spot where whispers climb high. With paths to explore and words to soar, it’s outside where the answers lie.”

“Hmm…” Reki frowned, leaning closer to show Langa the screen. “So… somewhere with nature, but also, like, books? Or something?”

Langa tilted his head thoughtfully, a small furrow forming between his eyebrows. “Maybe a garden? Or one of the outdoor study spots?”

“That could work.” Reki’s fingers drummed absently against his thigh. “There’s that little botanical garden behind the science building, right? The one with the gazebo and the poetry plaques?”

“Yeah.” Langa’s eyes brightened, and he nodded slowly. “That sounds like it could be it. There are those benches with all the quotes carved into them.”

“Exactly!” Reki grinned, his earlier frustration melting away as they fell into step beside each other. “Let’s check it out. Worst-case scenario, we’ll just hang out in a nice garden for a while, right?”

---

They made their way across campus, weaving through the flow of students. The botanical garden wasn’t far, tucked away behind a row of ivy-covered buildings, its entrance marked by a trellis woven with blooming vines.

The garden itself was a small, secluded oasis of greenery and quiet paths, with clusters of vibrant flowers and neatly trimmed hedges lining the walkways. A few students were scattered around, reading or chatting softly, the gentle murmur of their voices blending with the rustle of leaves in the breeze.

Reki glanced around, taking in the various features of the garden—the white-painted gazebo at the center, the stone pathways winding between patches of wildflowers, and the curved wooden benches set at intervals along the paths, each one engraved with a different quote or poem.

“Okay, let’s start looking,” Reki suggested, gesturing around them. “It could be hidden near any of these plaques, or maybe around the gazebo…”

They wandered through the garden, checking under benches and around the base of flowering shrubs, occasionally crouching down to peer behind stone markers. Reki even climbed halfway up one of the trellises, grumbling under his breath as Langa tried (and failed) to keep a straight face.

“Not up there,” Langa pointed out with a small smirk as Reki hopped down, brushing dirt from his hands.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Reki muttered, but there was no real bite to his tone. He glanced around the garden, his brow furrowing. “Where could it be…?”

Minutes turned into nearly an hour as they combed through the space, examining every nook and cranny they could think of. The sun rose higher in the sky, casting dappled shadows across the garden, and Reki’s excitement gradually shifted into something closer to frustration.

“It’s gotta be here somewhere,” he muttered, glancing at his watch and feeling a stab of annoyance. “Ugh, it’s almost two! I have class in, like, five minutes.”

Langa’s expression mirrored Reki’s concern, a small crease forming between his brows. “We can come back later,” he offered softly. “It’s okay if we don’t find it right away.”

“I know, but—” Reki let out a sharp breath, his shoulders slumping. “Man, this sucks. I thought we’d have more time.”

Langa’s gaze softened, “It’s fine. Really. We’ll figure it out.”

Reki glanced up, caught off guard by the quiet reassurance in Langa’s eyes. He felt the tension in his chest ease just a little, and he managed a faint smile. “Yeah. You’re probably right…“

“No need to apologize.” Langa’s lips curved into a small, understanding smile. “We’ll get it. After your class, we can keep looking. It’s not going anywhere.”

“Right.” Reki nodded, straightening his shoulders as if shaking off the last of his frustration. “Okay. I’ll head to class and meet you back here later?”

“Sounds good.” Langa’s voice was calm, steady, and Reki felt a wave of gratitude for the way he always seemed to know just what to say.

“See you in a bit, then!” Reki called, already jogging off toward the main campus.

-

At 4pm Reki trudged through the gravel path leading into the botanical garden, his shoulders still a little tense from class. His mind was half on the professor’s boring lecture and half on the scavenger hunt clue they hadn’t been able to figure out earlier. He spotted Langa leaning casually against one of the wrought-iron gates at the entrance, his head tilted up as he watched the sky shift through hues of soft pink and gold. For a moment, Reki hesitated, just taking in the sight of him—the way the fading sunlight highlighted Langa’s blue hair and the calm, almost peaceful expression on his face.

“Hey,” Reki called out, shaking himself out of his reverie and jogging up to Langa. “Sorry I’m late. The class dragged on forever, and I got caught up in some post-lecture questions about my project.”

Langa turned, his eyes lighting up when they met Reki’s. “It’s okay. I like it here. It’s quiet.”

“Yeah?” Reki glanced around the now nearly-empty garden, his lips curving up in a small smile. “I guess it’s not bad… But, man, earlier today? This place felt like a maze. How did we not find anything?”

Langa shrugged slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Maybe we were too focused. Sometimes you don’t see things when you’re looking too hard.”

“Deep,” Reki said with a laugh, shaking his head. “But true. Anyway, let’s do one more round, okay? We’ll try not to, like, overthink it this time. Just… let’s keep an eye out for anything that seems off.”

“Sure,” Langa agreed easily, pushing off the gate and falling into step beside Reki as they re-entered the garden.

They wandered through the pathways, following the winding trails lined with bursts of wildflowers and dense bushes. The warm, late-afternoon light cast long shadows across the foliage, and a gentle breeze rustled through the branches overhead. It was peaceful—too peaceful, considering how wound up Reki felt about this whole scavenger hunt thing earlier today.

“So…” Reki’s voice cut through the silence, his tone thoughtful. “You mentioned earlier that you didn’t really do this kind of thing before. Like, scavenger hunts and all.”

“Yeah.” Langa kicked at a stray pebble on the path, watching it bounce and roll away. “Never really had a reason to. My high school didn’t have any big events like this, and… well, I guess I was more of a keep-to-myself kind of guy…I still am.”

“Really?” Reki gave him a sidelong glance. “I thought you’d be, like, one of those effortlessly cool guys that everyone wants to hang out with.”

Langa’s eyes widened slightly, a soft laugh escaping him. “No, not at all. I was quiet. Didn’t talk much. Spent a lot of time alone. Kind of like… I didn’t know where I fit.”

Reki fell silent at that, a pang of understanding tugging at his chest. “I get that,” he murmured after a moment. “It’s weird, huh? Trying to find where you belong. I still don’t know if I’ve found it.”

“Maybe it’s not about finding one place,” Langa said quietly, his gaze steady on Reki’s face. “Maybe it’s just… finding the people you feel okay around. People you can be yourself with.”

Reki blinked, the sincerity in Langa’s tone catching him off guard. He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “You sound like you’ve thought about this a lot.”

Langa shrugged, his lips curving into a small smile. “I have.”

They continued their search in silence for a while longer, but Reki’s thoughts were spinning in new directions now. Langa’s words had struck a chord, resonating in a way Reki hadn’t expected. Maybe he’d been looking at this whole thing wrong—from high school friendships that never really felt complete to his constant fear of not fitting in. But Langa… Langa made it sound so simple. He could see now why Langa had a major in writing.

“Hey,” Reki said suddenly, clearing his throat. “You hungry?”

Langa’s head tilted slightly, a look of mild surprise crossing his face. “A little.”

“Let’s call it for now. We’ve been wandering around for ages.” Reki’s smile was sheepish, but his eyes were warm. “Besides, I’m starving. We can hit up the lounge again, get something to eat, and just… talk?”

Langa’s smile widened a fraction, and he nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”

---

The student lounge was comfortably dim and pleasantly quiet when they entered at 5pm, the low hum of conversations blending with the occasional clatter of pool balls from a game in the back corner. Reki and Langa picked a spot by the vending machines, the familiarity of the space settling around them like a cozy blanket.

“Alright, snack time,” Reki declared, turning to eye the vending machine options with exaggerated seriousness. “What’s it gonna be today? Chips? Pretzels? Something sugary?”

Langa tapped his chin thoughtfully, mirroring Reki’s serious expression. “Hmm… Maybe chocolate?”

“Good choice,” Reki said with a nod of approval, jamming a few coins into the slot and punching the button. He handed Langa the chocolate bar with a grin. “Here you go, sir. Your high-class snack.”

Langa took it, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Thank you.”

They settled at the corner table, munching on their snacks and sipping on cold drinks from the fridge. The conversation flowed easily—talking about nothing in particular, just enjoying each other’s company. Reki found himself laughing more than he had in a long time, feeling lighter and freer with every passing minute.

“Hey, you know what?” Reki said, breaking into a wide smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who actually likes bitter chocolate. You might be the first.”

Langa blinked, then looked down at the wrapper in his hands. “You don’t like it?”

“It’s okay,” Reki shrugged, his grin turning mischievous. “But sweet’s better. Like, way better.”

“Really?” Langa’s eyes narrowed, a playful challenge lighting up his expression. “I think bitter has more depth.”

“Depth, huh?” Reki leaned forward, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, it’s on. Next time we hang out, I’m bringing the sweetest thing I can find, and we’ll see who’s right.”

Langa chuckled, his gaze never leaving Reki’s. “Deal.”

Minutes turned into an hour, and before they knew it, the lounge was almost empty. The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting long, dark shadows across the windows. The quietness of the room wrapped around them like a gentle embrace, the only sound the low murmur of their voices and the occasional laughter that echoed through the space.

“Wow,” Reki murmured, glancing at his phone in surprise. “It’s already seven. How did that happen?”

Langa’s eyes widened slightly. “Time goes by fast when you’re… enjoying it.”

Reki’s smile softened, a warmth spreading through his chest at Langa’s words. “Yeah. I guess so.”

There was a beat of comfortable silence, both of them just sitting there, lost in the moment. Then Langa shifted, his gaze sharpening with sudden realization.

“Reki… What if the clue isn’t about the garden?” he asked slowly, leaning forward. “What if it’s about the outdoor statue? There’s a lot of nature there, and… people used to go there to read poetry or practice speeches.”

Reki’s eyes widened, excitement flickering to life again. “Oh my God, Langa, you’re a genius! That totally fits. ‘Knowledge’ and ‘nature’… Why didn’t we think of it earlier?!”

Langa’s smile was soft and knowing. “We were too focused on the garden.”

“Right, right!” Reki jumped up, grabbing his bag. “Let’s go before we overthink it again.”

---

The statue was shrouded in shadow when they arrived, the sky above them a deep, star-speckled indigo. The place had a quiet, almost ethereal beauty to it, bathing in the soft glow of the moon.

“Wow,” Reki whispered, taking in the sight. “I forgot how pretty this place can be.”

Langa nodded, his eyes wide with wonder. “It’s peaceful.”

They spent the next fifteen minutes searching around the statue, laughter and quiet banter filling the air as they poked around under benches and behind bushes. Every time one of them made a joke or cracked a smile, it felt like another piece of the puzzle falling into place—not just the scavenger hunt, but something more personal and meaningful.

“I’m starting to think we’re really bad at this,” Reki said with a dramatic sigh, flopping down onto one of the benches.

Langa chuckled, shaking his head as he crouched down. “Maybe. Or maybe… we’re just looking in the wrong places.”

“Always the wise one, huh?” Reki grinned, watching Langa with a fond look.

“Not always,” Langa murmured, his gaze meeting Reki’s. “But… I like figuring things out. Especially with you.”

Reki felt his cheeks heat up at that, and he quickly glanced away, trying to hide his smile. “Hey-“ He slowly looked back him,
“…Alright, let’s check that last corner over there. If it’s not there, I give up.”

“Deal.” Langa’s smile was soft as he followed Reki, his movements careful and precise.

And then—there it was. A tiny slip of paper, half-hidden behind a loose stone. Reki let out a triumphant whoop, grabbing it and holding it up like a trophy.

“We found it!” he yelled, jumping up and down. “Finally! I can’t believe it!”

Langa’s laughter joined his, bright and clear. “You did it.”

“No, we did it.” Reki’s grin was wide and unrestrained as he pulled out his phone. “Okay, okay, let’s get a picture with it. Proof of our epic struggle and eventual victory.”

They took the picture, both of them laughing so hard their faces hurt. When Reki looked at the photo afterward, he couldn’t help but smile. It was blurry and a little off-center, but the happiness in their expressions was unmistakable. A perfect moment captured forever.

“Man, that took way too long, but we did it,” Reki said, his voice still breathless with laughter.

“Yeah,” Langa agreed softly, his eyes lingering on Reki’s face. “We did.”

They stood there for a moment longer, the excitement and joy still buzzing between them. And then, slowly, they began the walk back to campus, side by side, the night air cool and crisp around them.

“Let’s not tell anyone how long it actually took us to find it,” Reki said with a grin. “We’ll just say we took our time.”

Langa’s soft laugh was the only answer he needed. “Sounds like a plan.”

And as they made their way back, their voices low and filled with warmth, Reki couldn’t help but think that maybe this was what it felt like to finally, truly belong.

“Hey y’know what?” Reki began, peaking Langas curiosity.

“I don’t think I have your phone number.”

Chapter Text

Sk8 Café was buzzing with morning energy, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon drifting through the air as Reki navigated his way through a maze of tables. He weaved past a group of regulars seated by the window, their laughter rising above the hum of conversation, and ducked around a couple of tourists struggling with an oversized map.

It was one of those chaotic mornings—the kind where everything felt just a little bit off, like the universe itself was tilted at an awkward angle. Reki glanced up at the clock mounted on the back wall, just behind the long counter, and sighed. It was only 9:30 AM. He still had hours left before his shift ended at noon.

“Table three needs a refill, Reki,” called out Joe, the broad-shouldered manager whose eagle eyes seemed to notice every missed coffee cup and delayed order. He pointed at the table with a flick of his wrist, not even looking up from the line of tickets crammed into the kitchen window. “And don’t forget to pick up the pancakes for table six before they get cold.”

“Got it!” Reki replied, trying to inject some enthusiasm into his voice even as he felt his attention splintering in a dozen different directions. He grabbed the coffee pot, deftly twisting between tables as he made his way to table three.

The café, a skater-themed diner that catered to the college crowd and skateboard enthusiasts, was full of life. Posters of iconic skate spots and professional riders decorated the walls, while shelves lined with trophies and boards from local competitions gave the place a lived-in, authentic feel. The air was always filled with the clatter of plates, the scrape of skate shoes on the concrete floors, and the rhythmic thrum of the indie rock playlist they had on loop.

Reki loved it here—on most days, at least. Today, though, it was hard to stay focused. His mind kept drifting to that little slip of paper they’d found the previous night. It wasn’t about the thrill of solving the scavenger hunt clue, though. It was the way Langa’s laughter had filled the quiet air, the way his smile had been so unguarded and real when they’d finally figured it out.

Before Reki could stop himself, he was smiling at the memory. He quickly snapped back to reality as he reached table three, only to find the customer—a middle-aged man in a suit—giving him an expectant look.

“Uh, sorry!” Reki blurted out, hastily filling the man’s cup. A little too hastily. Hot coffee splashed over the rim, and Reki’s heart sank as he watched a dark stain bloom across the pristine white tablecloth.

“Careful there,” the man muttered, raising an eyebrow.

“Sorry, sir!” Reki quickly fished out a rag from his apron and dabbed at the spill, cheeks burning. “I—I wasn’t paying attention. Let me get you a new cup, on the house.”

He practically bolted back to the counter, setting the coffee pot down with a frustrated sigh.
‘Get it together, Reki,’ he chided himself, taking a deep breath. He glanced at the clock again. 9:45 now. Still ages to go before his shift ended.

As he prepared a fresh cup of coffee, Joe’s towering frame loomed behind him. The older man crossed his arms, giving Reki a scrutinizing look. “You good, Reki?” Joe asked, his deep voice tinged with concern. “You’re not usually this clumsy.”

“Yeah, I’m fine, Joe,” Reki replied, forcing a smile. “Just, uh… long night. I didn’t sleep much.”

Joe’s eyes softened, though he maintained his authoritative stance. “Look, I know you’ve got a lot on your plate with school and all. But if you’re zoning out like this, it means you’re running on empty. Maybe take a breather when you get a chance, alright?”

“Thanks, but I’m okay. Promise!” Reki said quickly. “I’ll focus.”

“Better. I don’t wanna have to make you clean the bathroom just to get your head straight,” Joe teased, though there was an edge of seriousness to his words. “And try not to break anything. It’s way too early for more accidents.”

With that, Joe gave him a gentle clap on the back and moved on to the next employee, his booming voice filling the room as he directed the flow of orders.

Reki took a deep breath and finished preparing the cup of coffee, trying not to let his manager’s words get to him. But even as he delivered it back to table three, his thoughts drifted again. To the way Langa had leaned in close when they’d been searching the garden, his soft voice murmuring ideas and observations in Reki’s ear. The way Langa’s eyes had brightened with excitement when they’d finally found the clue. To the way they’d just… clicked. As if they’d been doing this—being friends, solving puzzles, sharing stupid jokes—their entire lives.

“Order for table six!” a voice from the kitchen snapped, jolting Reki out of his reverie. He grabbed the tray, making sure it was balanced properly before heading over.

“Okay, sorry for the wait,” he said as he set the plates down in front of a family of four. “We’ve got two sunny-side-up eggs, one stack of pancakes, and…” He trailed off, staring at the tray. One plate was missing. The father at the table was frowning up at him expectantly.

“Uh… where are the hash browns?” the man asked, his tone more curious than annoyed.

“Right, the hash browns!” Reki’s face went pale as he scanned the tray again, finding nothing. “I—I’ll go grab them! Be right back.”

He spun on his heel and hurried to the kitchen, cursing under his breath. He dropped the tray on the counter and took a deep breath, trying to center himself.

“Reki, seriously, man,” Joe said with a raised brow, folding his arms. “What’s up with you today? You’re not usually this distracted.”

“I—sorry, Joe. Just… a lot on my mind.” He gave the manager a quick, apologetic smile, then busied himself plating up the missing hash browns. He didn’t trust himself to elaborate without blurting out something embarrassing. Like how his head was so filled with thoughts of a certain blue-haired friend that there wasn’t room for much else.

“Yeah, I can see that,” Joe said, his voice softening just a fraction. “But try to push through, alright? You’ve only got a few hours left.”

Reki nodded.

He delivered the missing order and somehow made it through the next hour without further mishap.

Finally, the clock struck twelve, and Reki let out a relieved sigh as he wiped down his last table of the day. He changed out of his work uniform in the back room, the tiredness lifting from his shoulders as he slipped back into his casual clothes. It felt good to shed the weight of the shift, to leave behind the clattering dishes and missed orders.

As he stepped out into the fresh afternoon air, Reki glanced at his phone—12:05 PM. Plenty of time to grab his bag from his dorm, freshen up a bit, and make it to his 1 PM class. He swung his bag over his shoulder, feeling lighter now that the shift was over.

-

Reki’s sneakers squeaked sharply against the gleaming marble floors of the art building as he hurried down the hallway, the echoes amplifying his urgency. A glance at his watch, 12:57 PM, confirmed what he already knew: he was just on time. He let out a low breath, adjusting the strap of his bag, feeling the familiar weight of his sketchbooks, brushes, and tubes of paint shifting inside. It was a comforting sensation, grounding him amidst the rush.

He pushed open the heavy oak door that led into the studio, his fingers brushing against the cool, textured wood. This room always felt like a refuge, a place where time slowed and everything outside those walls faded away.

Sunlight spilled through the windows in bright, golden patches, casting warm beams across the tiled floor and making the entire room glow. He could see the vivid greens of the grass and trees outside, the colors almost blinding in their intensity after the dimness of the hallway.

Reki set his bag down and began unpacking his brushes with practiced ease. As he lifted his palette, his gaze drifted to the canvas in front of him. It was a chaotic swirl of vibrant blues, deep reds, and shimmering yellows, the colors bleeding into one another in a pattern that looked almost like a cityscape reflected in turbulent water. He’d been working on it for the past week, painstakingly building up layer upon layer, trying to capture a feeling more than any tangible scene. A sensation of movement and vibrancy, of energy shifting beneath the surface.

But today, as he dipped his brush into a blob of cerulean paint, his hand stilled. His mind kept wandering back to the previous evening. To Langa’s voice, soft but firm; to the way his smile made the edges of his eyes crinkle ever so slightly; to the unguarded look on his face when he was deep in thought. It was a fleeting image, but one that lingered in the back of Reki’s mind, stubbornly refusing to fade.

‘Focus,’ he told himself firmly. He shook his head, as if he could physically dislodge the memories, and pressed his brush to the canvas. The color spread in a broad, confident stroke, blending seamlessly with the hues beneath it. Yet even as his hand moved with its usual precision, his thoughts kept slipping.

Before he knew it, an hour had passed in a blur of color and motion. Each stroke of his brush seemed to happen without conscious thought, the paint blending and shifting on the canvas as if it were coming to life under his fingers. There was something both exhilarating and exhausting about losing himself so completely in the act of painting.

And then, out of nowhere, the shrill buzz of his phone shattered the quiet. Reki jerked, his brush slipping in his hand. He blinked, momentarily disoriented, as if waking from a dream. A few of the other students glanced up at the noise, but most quickly returned to their work, disinterested.

Reki wiped his hands on a rag, leaving smudges of blue and green across the fabric, and fished his phone out of his pocket. Squinting at the bright screen, he saw a name that sent a strange jolt of energy through him.

Langa.

He fumbled slightly, his fingers slipping over the screen in his haste to unlock it. A small, almost giddy smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he opened the message. It was a simple text, but for some reason, it made his heart beat just a little bit faster.

Langa:
Hey, did you see the new hint for today?
“Find where the water meets the sky.”
Any ideas?

Reki read the text twice, his gaze lingering on Langa’s name at the top of the screen. The familiarity of it, the fact that Langa had thought to reach out to him first—it sent a wave of warmth through his chest, a strange mixture of excitement and something else he couldn’t quite place. He ran a hand through his messy hair, trying to focus.

“Where the water meets the sky…” he murmured under his breath, brows furrowing. It was probably an outdoor location—something with a view, maybe. The phrase sounded almost poetic, like a place where the horizon stretched out endlessly, the sky and water blending together in a seamless line. It conjured images in his mind of serene lakes and quiet, still ponds.

Reki looked back at his half-finished painting, at the way the colors melded and reflected each other, and then glanced back down at his phone. Without really thinking, he started typing back.

Reki:
Hmm, sounds like it could be a lakeside spot?
What do you think? Maybe somewhere near the fountain in the campus garden? Or the big pond on the south lawn?

He hesitated for a moment before hitting send, his fingers hovering over the screen. The familiar bubble popped up, showing that Langa was already typing back. Reki found himself waiting with bated breath, his grip on his phone tightening just a bit. It was weird—he wasn’t usually like this. So jittery, so eager. Was it just because of the hunt? The excitement of solving clues together?

But it didn’t feel like that was the only reason…although he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was.

His phone buzzed again, the new message appearing almost immediately.

Langa:
Yeah, the pond could work.
Do you want to meet up and check it out?

Reki glanced up at the clock on the wall, the hands pointing to 2:15 PM. He’d completely lost track of time. His lips twitched into a half-smile. The idea of seeing Langa again was almost too tempting to pass up.

Reki:
I’m just finishing up in class,
give me like, five minutes and I’ll be there.

He quickly packed up his brushes and paints, moving with an urgency that bordered on frantic. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he headed for the door, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn’t know why he was in such a rush—why the thought of meeting Langa again filled him with this strange, buoyant energy. All he knew was that he didn’t want to waste a single second more.

-

The sun shone brightly as Reki finally arrived at the pond. It wasn’t exactly a hidden gem, but nestled between clusters of leafy trees and a small stone bridge, it had a tranquil, almost ethereal quality. The water was still, reflecting the deepening blues of the sky above, while the trees cast long shadows that stretched lazily across the grass.

Langa was already there, standing at the edge of the water. He turned as Reki approached, his blue hair catching the light and giving him an almost halo-like glow. He raised a hand in greeting, a small smile on his lips.

“Hey, Reki,” Langa called out, his voice soft but carrying easily over the stillness of the pond. “You made it.”

“Of course I did!” Reki shot back, a grin spreading across his face as he jogged the last few steps to close the distance. “No way I’d miss out on the chance to beat you at finding this clue.”

Langa tilted his head, his expression caught somewhere between amused and genuinely curious. “But it’s not a competition…”

“That’s what you say when you’re losing,” Reki teased, leaning forward with a mock-serious expression. He couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped out when Langa just blinked at him, slightly confused. “Anyway, what’s the plan? I don’t see anything that screams ‘clue’ around here.”

Langa glanced around, his eyes scanning the area with a thoughtful look. “It could be hidden under one of the benches… or maybe near the water?” He took a few steps closer to the pond’s edge, the soft squish of the grass underfoot the only sound in the silence that followed.

Reki followed suit, peering down into the water. He squinted, trying to see if there was anything unusual—anything that might stand out. But the pond was clear, the surface unbroken except for the occasional ripple from a passing breeze. “Nothing obvious here,” he muttered, scratching the back of his head. “Should we split up and check around the perimeter?”

“Sure,” Langa agreed easily, already moving off toward a nearby tree that overhung the water. He knelt down, running his fingers gently along the bark as if expecting to find something carved into it.

Reki turned in the opposite direction, scanning the area with narrowed eyes. He crouched down to peer under the low, wooden benches, his gaze flicking over the ground for any hint of disturbed soil or hidden messages. But everything looked normal. After a few more minutes of fruitless searching, Reki was starting to get that familiar itch of impatience. He was just about to call out to Langa when he heard a faint rustling behind him.

“Hey, Reki!” Langa’s voice was soft, but there was a note of excitement in it that made Reki spin around. Langa was standing by a cluster of rocks near the water’s edge, holding something small and white between his fingers.

“What is it?” Reki asked as he hurried over, his heart giving a small leap at the sight of the folded piece of paper.

Langa carefully unfolded it, his brow furrowing as he read the neat, looping handwriting inside. “It says… ‘To see where the water meets the sky, let it fly.’” He glanced up, blue eyes meeting Reki’s with a look of puzzled amusement. “And there’s another part: ‘For this task to count, throw water into the sky and have it land on at least one of you. Make sure to record it for proof.’”

Reki’s mouth fell open. “Wait, what? Throw water… into the sky?” He scratched his head, letting out a disbelieving laugh. “They’re messing with us, right? What does that even mean?”

Langa looked back at the paper, then out at the pond, his gaze distant as he thought it over. “I think it’s supposed to be literal,” he said slowly. “You know, like… water meeting the sky. We have to actually throw water up and let it come back down on us.”

Reki snorted, shaking his head in disbelief. “What a weird activity.” But even as he said it, a grin was starting to spread across his face. “Guess we’re gonna get wet, huh? They said we need to record it right?”

Langa nodded, holding up his phone. “I have the camera ready. We just need a way to throw the water up high enough… Maybe—”

“A bucket!” Reki cut in, his eyes lighting up with sudden inspiration. “If we get a bucket, we can scoop up a lot of water and toss it in one go! There’s that convenience store just around the corner—they probably have one.”

Langa blinked, then a slow smile curved his lips. “A bucket. That could work.”

“Alright then, let’s go!” Reki spun around, his enthusiasm contagious. Langa followed, the two of them breaking into a light jog as they headed off toward the store.

The convenience store was as unassuming as ever, tucked between a laundromat and a flower shop, its fluorescent lights casting a sterile glow over rows of shelves. Reki pushed the door open, the chime above announcing their entrance. They made a beeline for the aisle with cleaning supplies, scanning the shelves until Reki’s gaze landed on a bright blue plastic bucket.

“Perfect!” Reki grabbed it with a triumphant grin, holding it up as if it were a prized treasure. “This should do the trick.”

Langa chuckled softly. “You’re really into this, huh?”

“Hey, you’re the one who said it wasn’t a competition,” Reki shot back with a playful wink. He turned toward the counter, the bucket swinging from his hand. “Besides, when’s the last time you got to throw water around and not get in trouble for it?”

Langa’s smile widened, a soft, almost shy laugh escaping him. “Good point.”

They paid for the bucket and hurried back to the pond, their earlier excitement building with each step. As they reached the water’s edge, Reki set the bucket down with a flourish.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road!” He knelt down and carefully dipped the bucket into the pond, filling it halfway before lifting it out with a grunt. Water sloshed over the rim, soaking his shoes and the grass beneath. He didn’t seem to notice, his grin only growing wider.

Reki lifted the heavy bucket, his arms straining a little as he tried to keep it balanced. The water shimmered inside, catching the sunlight in rippling patterns.

He turned to Langa, his grin faltering just a bit. “Uh, so…” he began slowly, the bucket’s weight shifting in his hands, “who’s going to be the unlucky one to get wet?”

Langa raised an eyebrow, and a faint smile tugged at his lips. “You found the bucket,” he said simply, crossing his arms. “Shouldn’t that mean you’re volunteering?”

“Me?!” Reki nearly choked on the word, his eyes widening as he shook his head fervently. “No way! I mean, I got the bucket, but I didn’t say I’d be the one getting drenched!”

Langa’s expression remained maddeningly calm, though his eyes sparkled with amusement. “But you’re already halfway there,” he pointed out, gesturing at Reki’s soaked shoes.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t count!” Reki protested, glancing down at his wet sneakers and giving them a small, irritated shake. “I didn’t sign up to be a human rain cloud!”

“Well, someone has to do it,” Langa said matter-of-factly, his voice laced with playful challenge. He leaned forward a little, his gaze locking with Reki’s. “Why not you?”

Reki huffed, the bucket wavering slightly in his grip. “Why not you?” he countered, lifting his chin in mock defiance. “You’re the one who figured out the clue. That should make you the one who has to complete it, right?”

Langa’s lips twitched into a smirk, the corner of his mouth quirking up just enough to be infuriatingly smug. “But you said it’s not a competition, right? So it shouldn’t matter who gets wet.”

Reki opened his mouth to argue, then snapped it shut, his expression twisting with indecision. “Ugh, fine!” he groaned, his shoulders slumping dramatically. “Let’s just get this over with. But if I’m getting soaked, you’re not getting out of it either, Langa!”

Langa blinked, caught off-guard. “Wait, what do you mean?”

“I mean,” Reki said, an almost mischievous grin spreading across his face, “we’re both doing it. We throw it up together, at the same time. That way, it lands on both of us and counts for the task.”

Langa stared at him for a moment, then nodded slowly, his smile returning, softer now. “Alright,” he agreed, taking a step closer. “We’ll do it together.”

“Good!” Reki replied, relieved that Langa wasn’t going to put up more of a fight. He set the bucket down and dug his phone out of his pocket, wiping his damp hands on his jeans before he handed it over. “Here, you set it up. Let’s get a good angle, so they can see us getting splashed.”

Langa took the phone, carefully propping it up against a low bench that sat near the water’s edge. He adjusted the angle, his expression serious and focused. “How’s this?” he asked, glancing back at Reki.

Reki squinted at the screen, where they were both visible, standing side-by-side with the pond behind them. “Perfect,” he said with a satisfied nod. “Okay, let’s get this done.”

They moved back into position, standing shoulder-to-shoulder, the bucket brimming with pond water at their feet. The faint scent of algae and wet earth drifted up, mingling with the clean, crisp scent of the breeze that swept across the pond’s surface.

Reki hesitated, his hand hovering just above the bucket’s handle. “Ready?” he asked, shooting a sideways glance at Langa.

Langa nodded, reaching down to grasp the other side of the bucket. Their fingers brushed briefly, and Reki felt a strange jolt, like a spark of static electricity. He looked up, meeting Langa’s gaze. For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.

“Okay, on three,” Reki said, his voice softer now. He took a deep breath, feeling a sudden rush of nervous energy. It was just water—just a silly challenge—but standing this close to Langa, their hands barely inches apart, the anticipation made his pulse race.

“One…” Reki counted.

“Two…” Langa joined in, his tone steady and calm.

“Three!” they said together.

In perfect sync, they lifted the bucket high above their heads and heaved it upward. The water surged up in a glittering arc, droplets catching the sunlight and scattering in every direction. Time seemed to slow as the water hung suspended in the air, a sparkling veil that shimmered and glimmered like liquid crystal.

And then, with a loud, splashing whoosh, the water came crashing down, drenching them both in a cold, exhilarating rush. Reki let out a startled yelp, his mouth falling open as the water soaked through his hair, his clothes, his skin. Langa’s soft laughter echoed beside him, the sound mingling with the splash of water hitting the ground.

Reki staggered back, blinking water out of his eyes as he tried to catch his breath.
“Wow! that was-” He looked over at Langa, who was absolutely soaked. The other boy’s hair was plastered to his forehead, droplets of water clinging to his lashes and sliding down his cheeks. His white t-shirt was soaked through, clinging to his frame, but his smile was wide and unrestrained.

“Cold?” Langa finished for him, shivering slightly, though his grin never faltered. “But fun.”

Reki let out a bark of laughter, his shoulders shaking with the force of it. “You think? That was insane! I can’t believe we actually did it!” He ran a hand through his dripping hair, sending a spray of water droplets flying in every direction. “Look at us—we’re totally drenched!”

“Totally,” Langa agreed, his voice light and filled with genuine joy. He shook his head, trying to get his bangs out of his eyes, and droplets flew off like little flecks of glass, catching the sunlight. He glanced around and then nodded toward a group of students who were walking past, giving them curious, almost bewildered looks.

Reki followed Langa’s gaze, and when he saw the expressions of confusion and amusement on the students’ faces, he couldn’t help but laugh even harder. “What?” he called out, throwing his arms wide. “You’ve never seen two people throw water on themselves before?”

One of the students shook their head, a grin tugging at their lips. “Not like that!” they called back, and the small group dissolved into giggles as they walked away.

Reki turned back to Langa, his laughter finally subsiding into breathless chuckles. “Guess we’re putting on a show,” he said with a lopsided grin.

“Maybe we should charge for tickets,” Langa replied dryly, though the way his eyes crinkled at the corners made it clear he was just as caught up in the moment as Reki.

Langa tilted his head, considering it with mock seriousness. “I’d pay to see that.”

Reki rolled his eyes, but there was no real annoyance behind it. “Man, you’re impossible.”

“But you’re smiling,” Langa pointed out, his tone teasing.

“Yeah, yeah,” Reki muttered, though he couldn’t hide the grin that stretched across his face. He glanced over at the phone, still propped up on the bench, the screen showing the two of them standing side-by-side, dripping wet and grinning like a couple of kids.

“Think they’ll count it?” Langa asked, tilting his head thoughtfully.

Reki shrugged, his smile growing softer, more genuine. “Even if they don’t… it was worth it.”

Langa’s gaze lingered on Reki for a moment longer, then he nodded, his expression gentle. “Yeah. It was.”

And with that, they both turned back to the camera, Reki reaching out to hit stop on the recording. But the warmth of the moment stayed with them, a quiet, unspoken connection that made the sun seem just a little bit brighter, the air just a little bit sweeter.

The sound of more students walking by drifted over to them, the faint murmur of voices mixed with occasional laughter. But Reki and Langa didn’t seem to notice, caught up in the lingering buzz of excitement that hummed between them.

Reki ran his hand through his hair one last time, squeezing out as much water as he could before giving up with a resigned sigh. They were both soaked to the bone, their clothes clinging uncomfortably to their skin and shoes squelching with every step. A few more drops trickled down the back of his neck, making him shiver despite the warm afternoon sun.

“Okay,” he said, voice laced with determination, “we seriously need to dry off before we turn into human sponges.”

Langa looked down at his dripping t-shirt and then over at Reki, his lips quirking up in a small, sheepish smile. “Yeah, that might be a good idea.”

“Is your place close by?” Reki asked, tilting his head. “Like, do you live on campus?”

Langa nodded, glancing around almost absentmindedly before pointing off in the general direction of the dormitories. “I do. I’m in Birch Hall, over there.”

Reki blinked, his brow furrowing as he processed what Langa just said. “Wait, wait, wait—Birch Hall?” He pointed to himself, his eyes wide with surprise. “I’m in Birch Hall! You’re telling me we’ve been living in the same building this whole time, and I’ve never seen you around??”

Langa paused, considering it for a moment before giving a slow nod. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Reki’s mouth dropped open slightly. “But how? I’m always hanging out in the common room or gaming lounge—especially after classes. And I’ve never seen you, like, ever.”

Langa glanced away, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. “I… don’t go out much,” he admitted softly. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking almost apologetic. “I usually just head back to my room after classes. I don’t hang out in the common space or the gaming room.”

Reki gaped at him, his expression a mix of confusion and disbelief. “What? You just go straight to your room and stay there?” He shook his head like he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the concept. “Dude, that’s crazy. You’re missing out on all the fun! We have movie nights sometimes, and there’s always people in the gaming room after dinner.”

Langa shrugged, his shoulders lifting slightly. “I guess I just never felt like going,” he said quietly, his voice almost tentative. “It’s… easier to stay in my room.”

Reki stared at him for a long moment, something softening in his expression. He didn’t know Langa that well yet—didn’t know what made him tick or why he preferred to keep to himself. But he could see the hint of discomfort in Langa’s posture, the way his shoulders hunched slightly, as if bracing for some kind of judgment.

“Hey, no worries,” Reki said quickly, offering a small, reassuring smile. “But, uh, I’m just saying… you should come down and hang out sometime. Even if it’s just to watch a movie or play a quick game. I mean, I’m there all the time, so you already know one person.” He gave a playful shrug. “That’s a start, right?”

Langa’s gaze flicked up to meet Reki’s, surprise flickering in his blue eyes. He seemed to mull over Reki’s words for a moment, then nodded, his smile returning, faint but genuine. “Yeah. That could be nice.”

“Awesome,” Reki said, his grin widening. He glanced down at their soaked clothes again and chuckled. “Okay, first things first—let’s get back to the Hall and dry off. I’ve got some extra towels and stuff in my room. You can borrow one if you need.”

Langa nodded, falling into step beside Reki as they began walking back toward the dorms. The path wound through the campus grounds, lined with tall trees whose branches swayed gently in the breeze. A few students lingered here and there, chatting or lounging on the grass, but most of them spared only a passing glance at the two dripping figures making their way toward the dormitories.

“So,” Reki began, his curiosity getting the better of him as they crossed a small stone bridge, “you said you transferred in at the start of the semester, right? How come I never saw you during orientation or any of those second-year events?”

Langa smiled faintly, the corners of his lips lifting just enough to hint at amusement. “I missed most of them,” he replied. “I had a few things to take care of for the transfer paperwork and…” He trailed off, glancing down as if suddenly uncertain.

“And?” Reki prompted gently, his gaze warm and encouraging.

Langa hesitated, then let out a soft sigh, his smile turning a little self-conscious. “And… I guess I just didn’t feel like going,” he admitted quietly. “It’s hard to show up alone when everyone else already seems to know each other.”

Reki’s eyes widened. “Oh, man. That must’ve sucked.” He scratched his cheek, looking genuinely sympathetic. “You should’ve said something! I would’ve totally dragged you along.”

Langa glanced over at him, blue eyes searching. “Even though we didn’t know each other back then?”

“Yeah, why not?” Reki shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “If you came up to me and said you didn’t know anyone and didn’t want to go alone, even if I didn’t know you, I still would’ve gone!”

Something softened in Langa’s expression, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “That’s… really nice of you, Reki.”

Reki waved a hand dismissively, trying to brush off the compliment even as his cheeks turned a little pink. “Nah, it’s nothing. But hey, now that we know each other, you have no excuse next time, okay?”

Langa chuckled softly, the sound warm and genuine. “I’ll remember that.”

They continued walking, the tall silhouette of Birch Hall coming into view. The building stood tall and stately, its windows glinting in the afternoon light. A few students milled around the entrance, some sitting on the steps or leaning against the walls, chatting and laughing.

Reki glanced over at Langa, a thought striking him. “Hey, which floor are you on? I’m on the third.”

“Second,” Langa replied, looking up at the building. “It’s quieter down there.”

Reki nodded thoughtfully. “Makes sense. It can get kinda noisy up on the third sometimes. I’ve got these neighbors who love blasting music at like, two in the morning.” He rolled his eyes, though there was no real annoyance in his tone. “Maybe that’s why I never run into you. You’re probably fast asleep by the time the noise starts.”

Langa shrugged, his expression turning amused. “Probably.”

They reached the entrance of Birch Hall, and Reki held the door open, gesturing grandly for Langa to go in first. “After you, Mr. Second Floor.”

Langa chuckled, stepping inside with a small, appreciative nod. “Thank you, Mr. Third Floor.”

Reki let out a snort of laughter, shaking his head as he followed Langa inside. The familiar scent of the dorm’s interior—something like a mix of old books and faint cleaning detergent—washed over him as they made their way through the lobby and toward the stairwell.

“Okay, seriously though,” Reki said as they started up the stairs, glancing over at Langa with an exaggeratedly serious expression, “we need to make a pact or something. No more staying holed up in your room. Next time there’s a movie night, you’re coming with me, no excuses.”

Langa looked at him, the corners of his eyes crinkling with a hint of laughter. “A pact?”

“Yep! A binding, unbreakable pact!” Reki proclaimed, nodding firmly. “I’ll even bring popcorn.”

Langa shook his head, a soft chuckle escaping him. “Alright, alright. A pact, then.”

“Good!” Reki said, satisfaction evident in his grin. “I’m holding you to it.”

Langa’s smile lingered as they reached the second-floor landing. He paused, turning to face Reki, his gaze soft and warm. “Thanks, Reki,” he said quietly.

Reki blinked, momentarily caught off-guard by the sincerity in Langa’s voice. He felt a sudden warmth spread through his chest, and he shrugged, trying to play it off with a casual wave of his hand. “Nah, don’t mention it. That’s what friends are for, right?”

Langa’s smile widened just a fraction, and he nodded. “Right.”

“…Why don’t we meet up later? After we dry off, I mean.”

Langa’s eyes brightened at the suggestion. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Cool! So we can meet back at the entrance in… what, twenty minutes?” Reki suggested, tilting his head as if doing the mental math.

“Twenty minutes sounds good,” Langa agreed with a nod. They exchanged a quick smile before parting ways at the stairwell—Langa heading down while Reki continued up.

-

When he finally pushed open the door to his room, he wasn’t surprised to see Miya sprawled on his bed, face illuminated by the soft glow of his laptop. Miya’s head barely shifted as Reki stepped inside, though the corner of his mouth twitched in what could have been a smirk.

“Nice look, wet dog,” Miya drawled without looking up from the screen.

“Wow, thanks. I was totally going for ‘drowned rat chic.’” Reki dropped his bag on the floor and started tugging his damp shirt over his head. He paused halfway, noticing the puddle forming beneath him. “And can you not make me regret agreeing for you to be my roommate? Maybe do something useful, like tossing me a towel or something?”

Miya finally glanced up, an unimpressed eyebrow arching as he took in Reki’s dripping form. “If I get up, I might catch whatever stupidity virus made you think it was a good idea to come back looking like that. So no, I’m good.”

“Gee, you’re all heart, Miya.” Reki rolled his eyes, then gave up on any hope of getting help and made his way to his closet to pick out an outfit, peeling off his soaked t-shirt and tossing it onto the growing heap of laundry in the corner. He rummaged around for something clean and dry, holding up a few options as he glanced in the small mirror propped up on his desk.

Behind him, Miya snorted. “Seriously, what’s the point? You’re just gonna throw on something lame like usual.”

“Hey! I can dress decently when I want to!” Reki protested, pulling out a pair of faded jeans and a soft, navy quarter zip. He held it up for Miya’s scrutiny. “See? Nice, right?”

“Wow, a quarter zip. Really breaking new ground there,” Miya replied flatly, but there was a glimmer of something close to approval in his eyes. “Better than your usual hoodies, I guess. You meeting someone?”

Reki hesitated, the faint flush from before creeping back. “Nah, just… hanging out.” He turned away, heading for the tiny bathroom attached to their dorm room. “I’ll be out in a sec. Try not to hack into the Pentagon while I’m gone, okay?”

“Please, as if I’d waste my time on something that boring,” Miya scoffed, his attention already back on his laptop. “Just hurry up. If I have to listen to you splash around in there for too long, I’m gonna drown you in the campus fountain myself.”

Reki snickered as he closed the bathroom door behind him. “Yeah, yeah, keep dreaming, Miya.”

He leaned against the door for a moment, letting out a long breath. Even as he undressed and turned on the shower, letting the hot water chase away the lingering chill from being soaked, his mind kept wandering back to Langa. What would they talk about this time? The thought of Langa’s blue eyes, the way they seemed to light up when he smiled, filled Reki’s mind unbidden. He bit his lip, shaking his head as he reached for his towel.

“Get it together,” he muttered to himself as he dried off. After a quick look in the mirror—hair tousled but dry, clothes comfortably casual without being too try-hard—he nodded in approval and stepped back out into the main room.

Miya glanced up briefly, his gaze flicking over Reki’s outfit before he shrugged. “Well, at least you don’t look like you fell out of a washing machine anymore.”

“High praise coming from you.” Reki grabbed his phone and keys, casting one last look around. “I’ll be back later. Don’t touch my snacks.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Miya’s voice was already distant, lost in whatever he was doing on his screen.

Rolling his eyes but unable to stop the grin tugging at his lips, Reki headed for the door. His pulse quickened slightly at the thought of meeting up with Langa again. He couldn’t explain it, but there was something about spending time with him that felt… different. Exciting, in a way that left him almost breathless.

With a final glance over his shoulder at Miya, who hadn’t moved an inch, Reki slipped out of the room and made his way down the stairs towards the entrance.

-

Reki stood just outside the entrance of the main hall, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he glanced around the crowded lobby. It was afternoon, around 3:30, and the campus was buzzing with students moving in every direction—most
returning back from campus or meeting up with friends. But Reki wasn’t thinking about any of that. His eyes darted over to the staircase at the far end, half-expecting and half-hoping to catch a glimpse of blue hair in the sea of heads.

Then, as if on cue, Langa appeared at the top of the stairs. He looked calm and relaxed as always, one hand casually stuffed in the pocket of his jacket as he descended. His gaze scanned the crowd until it landed on Reki, and a soft smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Reki’s heart gave a tiny, unexpected jolt, and he found himself grinning back before he could stop himself.

“Hey!” Reki called out, raising a hand as Langa approached. “You made it.”

“Of course,” Langa said with a hint of amusement. “I said I would.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Reki scratched the back of his neck, feeling a bit silly. “So, uh… what do you wanna do tonight?”

Langa tilted his head, looking thoughtful. “I don’t really mind. Something off-campus?”

“Off-campus…” Reki repeated, glancing out the glass doors of the hall and into the dusky evening. The thought of getting away from the usual student spots—just the two of them—sounded kind of nice. Different. He looked back at Langa, his eyes brightening as an idea struck him. “How about we catch a movie? There’s that small cinema down by the old shopping district.”

“A movie?” Langa echoed, nodding slowly as if testing the idea out. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

“Cool! Let’s do it, then.” Reki’s excitement bubbled up, and he motioned for Langa to follow him. “It’s not too far. We can walk there.”

They made their way out of the hall and down the path leading toward the edge of campus, their pace unhurried. The air was crisp and cool, a slight breeze rustling the leaves overhead. As they walked, Reki noticed how quiet it was between them—not awkward, just… comfortable. He wasn’t used to this kind of silence, but with Langa, it felt natural. Almost like words weren’t really needed.

“So, what kind of movies do you like?” Reki asked, glancing sideways at Langa.

“Hmm…” Langa seemed to consider this for a moment, his eyes focused on the ground ahead. “I like thrillers. And mysteries. Things that make you think.”

“Of course you do,” Reki teased lightly. “Always the serious stuff. You don’t like, I dunno, cheesy comedies or superhero flicks?”

Langa smiled faintly. “I don’t mind them. What about you?”

“Me?” Reki shoved his hands in his pockets, tilting his head back as if searching the sky for an answer. “I guess I’m more of an action guy. But I’ll watch pretty much anything as long as it’s fun.”

“Fun, huh?” Langa murmured, his smile widening slightly. “That suits you.”

Reki’s ears turned a bit pink at the offhanded compliment, but he quickly brushed it off with a shrug. “Whatever, man. Let’s just hope we pick something good tonight.”

It wasn’t long before they reached the small cinema tucked away between a couple of shops. The neon sign overhead flickered dimly, giving the place an almost old-school vibe. Reki pushed open the door, and they stepped into a lobby that looked like it hadn’t changed in decades—faded movie posters on the walls, a single concession stand, and a ticket counter manned by a guy who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.

Reki scanned the list of movies playing that night. “Okay, so… we’ve got a rom-com, a horror movie, something called Hidden Pathways, and, uh… I don’t even know what the last one is.”

Langa leaned in slightly, studying the titles with a faint frown. “Hidden Pathways,” he said slowly, pointing at the name. “That one looks interesting.”

Reki squinted at the title, then glanced at the poster beside it. “You think so? It looks… I dunno, kinda low-budget.”

“Maybe that’s why it’s good,” Langa countered, his expression thoughtful. “Sometimes, the less popular ones have more heart.”

Reki blinked at him, then laughed softly. “Wow, you’re really giving this a lot of credit already, huh? But… yeah, sure, let’s give it a shot. Why not?”

After purchasing their tickets and a shared bucket of popcorn, they headed inside. When they entered the theater, Reki’s suspicions about the movie’s popularity were confirmed. Aside from them, there were only two other people—an elderly couple seated all the way in the back, engrossed in their own conversation.

“Looks like we’ve got a private screening,” Reki whispered, nudging Langa’s arm as they took seats near the middle of the room.

Langa chuckled quietly. “Guess so. No one to shush us if we talk.”

Reki grinned, plopping down into his seat and stretching his legs out. “Good. Because if this movie’s as weird as it sounds, I’m definitely gonna have some commentary.”

The film started off slow—an ominous violin score playing over shots of a dark, misty forest. Reki squinted at the screen, trying to figure out what was going on as the camera panned over shadowy trees and fog-covered paths. The protagonist, a brooding man in his thirties, walked silently through the woods, his expression troubled.

“What’s he even looking for?” Reki muttered under his breath, leaning closer to Langa so only he could hear.

Langa tilted his head slightly, his eyes never leaving the screen. “I think it’s supposed to be symbolic.”

“Of what? His bad sense of direction?” Reki snickered, earning a soft chuckle from Langa.

“Maybe,” Langa whispered back, his smile lingering. “Or maybe he’s just lost in more ways than one.”

Reki blinked, taken aback by the thoughtful answer. “Huh. Never thought of it like that.”

They fell silent for a while after that, but it wasn’t long before the movie started to drag. The plot felt convoluted, the dialogue was sparse and cryptic, and most of the scenes were just the protagonist wandering aimlessly through the woods.

“Man, I think I’ve seen this same tree like five times already,” Reki muttered, slumping in his seat. “How much longer do you think this guy’s gonna walk around?”

“Until he figures himself out,” Langa said dryly, a rare hint of sarcasm in his tone.

Reki choked back a laugh, covering his mouth with his hand. “Dude, I didn’t know you had it in you to make jokes like that.”

“Maybe it’s the movie bringing it out of me,” Langa murmured, his gaze shifting toward Reki briefly, a small smile tugging at his lips.

They kept trading comments back and forth like that, leaning in close to whisper things only the other could hear. The movie became background noise as they found themselves talking more about random things—classes, past experiences, little details they hadn’t shared before. Langa told Reki about his first time trying to snowboard and how it had gone disastrously wrong, which had Reki laughing so hard he almost spilled the popcorn.

“Wait, wait—so you just rolled down the hill like a human snowball?” Reki asked, his voice shaking with barely-contained laughter.

“Pretty much,” Langa admitted, his own smile growing wider. “It was… not graceful.” He whispered.

“No kidding…Man, I would’ve paid to see that.”

They continued whispering and snickering through most of the movie, completely immersed in their own little world. At one point, Reki glanced around, noticing how the old couple in the back were now gone

“Hey,” he whispered, nudging Langa’s shoulder gently. “What time is it?”

Langa glanced at his phone, his eyes widening slightly. “Almost 5:15 PM.”

“Whoa. Guess this movie dragged on- It started at 4 and it’s not even done.” Reki looked back at the screen, where the protagonist was delivering a long, impassioned speech about finding his way back. “I didn’t even realise was a long movie.”

“Me neither,” Langa murmured. He looked back at Reki, his gaze soft. “But… I’m glad we came.”

Reki’s heart did a strange flip at the sincerity in Langa’s voice. He swallowed, nodding slowly. “Yeah. Me too.”

The movie finally came to an end at
5:55 PM with a vague, ambiguous conclusion that left them both scratching their heads. As the credits rolled, Reki stretched and stood up, glancing over at Langa.

“So… wanna grab something to eat on the way back?” he suggested with a grin.
Langa’s eyes lit up, and he nodded. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

With that, they left the nearly-empty theater, stepping out into the cool night air. The movie might not have been great, but the time spent together? That was something Reki wouldn’t forget anytime soon.

-

The cool night air greeted them as they stepped out of the cinema, the streets of the shopping district bathed in the soft glow of street lamps. The quietness of the area surprised Reki—he expected it to be livelier on a Friday evening, but he wasn’t complaining. The calm atmosphere was a nice change of pace from the bustling campus.

“Okay,” Reki said, shoving his hands into his pockets as they lingered by the cinema entrance. “So, food. Any ideas?”

Langa glanced around, blue eyes drifting thoughtfully over the shops lining the street. “There’s this small burger place we passed on the way here… It looked pretty old-school, like an American diner.”

“An American diner, huh?” Reki echoed, raising a brow. “You sure you’re not getting homesick, Mr. Canada?”

Langa huffed a small laugh, his lips curving into a smirk. “Maybe a little. But mostly, I’m just hungry.”

“Fair enough,” Reki grinned, already leading the way down the street. “Let’s check it out. I’m down for a burger.”

They strolled side by side, the murmur of their casual conversation blending with the faint sounds of distant traffic and the occasional laughter from other groups of people passing by. A few blocks away, they spotted the neon sign of the diner Langa had mentioned: “Stevie’s Burgers & Shakes.” The sign flickered slightly, casting a warm, nostalgic glow over the entrance.

“Wow, it really does look old-school,” Reki said as they approached. He peered through the wide windows, noting the red vinyl booths, the checkered floor tiles, and the jukebox against the far wall. The place looked like it was plucked straight out of a 1950s American movie. “Let’s hope their food is as good as the aesthetic.”

Langa just smiled, holding the door open for Reki to step in first. The moment they entered, the savory scent of grilled meat and freshly baked buns washed over them, making Reki’s mouth water.

The diner was quaint and not too crowded, with only a few other customers scattered around. A waitress in a retro-style uniform—a white dress with a blue apron—greeted them with a cheerful smile and led them to a small booth by the window.

“Welcome to Stevie’s,” she said brightly as she handed them laminated menus. “Our special tonight is the Double-Stack Bacon Burger, and we’ve got all our milkshake flavors half-off.”

“Thanks!” Reki replied, glancing at the menu before looking back up at Langa. “So, what are you thinking? Wanna go for the special?”

Langa hummed in thought, skimming the menu. “Yeah, maybe… but I’m kind of curious about the chili cheeseburger.”

“That’s a bold choice Langa. Things might get a bit messy.”

“Yeah, but it’s worth it,” Langa said, a small smile playing on his lips. He set his menu down and looked at Reki. “What about you?”

“Hmm… I think I’ll go with the special, actually. Double-stack bacon burger sounds amazing,” Reki decided, closing his menu with a decisive snap. He looked at Langa, eyes twinkling with mock seriousness. “We’re about to see who’s got the more sophisticated burger taste.”

“Pretty sure chili cheese wins every time,” Langa shot back dryly.

They placed their orders—Langa with the chili cheeseburger and a chocolate shake, Reki with the special and a vanilla shake—and settled into a comfortable silence as they waited. The jukebox in the corner started playing a soft rock song, its melody filling the space with a mellow vibe. Reki tapped his fingers on the table to the beat, glancing around curiously.

“So, you grew up eating at places like this a lot?” he asked, turning his attention back to Langa.

“Sometimes,” Langa said, resting his chin on his hand. “There was a diner kind of like this one back in Calgary. My dad would take me there after my snowboarding practice in winter. We’d split a big plate of fries and a milkshake.”

Reki smiled, leaning forward. “That’s so Canadian of you.”

Langa rolled his eyes, but there was a fondness in his gaze. “Yeah, I know. But it was fun. Dad and I loved the sport.”

“Bet you were awesome,” Reki said sincerely, then paused. “Wait, you said were. Do you not play anymore?”

“Not since we moved here,” Langa admitted, looking down at his hands. “It didn’t feel the same without Dad. I stopped right after… well, after everything happened.”

“Oh.” Reki’s voice softened, and he reached out to place a hand on Langa’s arm, a small gesture of comfort. “I’m sorry. That… that must’ve been hard.”

Langa nodded slightly, then offered Reki a small, grateful smile. “It’s okay. I’m thinking about going back once break comes around, maybe try it again.”

Reki’s heart seemed to flutter strangely at those words, but he brushed it off, giving Langa’s arm a gentle pat before pulling back. “I’m glad.”

Their conversation shifted to lighter topics after that—memories from high school, weird hobbies they’d picked up over the years, favorite foods and movies (definitely not the movie they’d watched earlier). Reki discovered that Langa actually had a secret love for cheesy rom-coms, while Langa found out that Reki was obsessed with collecting random figurines and toys from gachapon machines.

“Wait, wait,” Langa interrupted, shaking his head in disbelief. “So, you spent an entire month’s allowance on just—what, tiny plastic robots?”

“Not just robots!” Reki exclaimed defensively, but he couldn’t hold back his laugh. “They were exclusive robots from the limited-edition Gundam set! They had extra interchangeable parts and everything!”

Langa’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “And you still have them all?”

“Of course I do,” Reki said proudly. “They’re in a box under my bed, some of them are on my desk.”

Their laughter continued until the waitress returned with their orders, and Reki’s eyes widened at the sight of his towering double-stack burger, the bacon spilling out from the sides. “Whoa. This thing’s a beast.”

“And it’s probably gonna beat you,” Langa quipped, raising his own burger—the chili oozing out from between the buns. “Let’s see if you can actually finish that.”

“Psh, easy,” Reki said, lifting the burger to take a giant bite. “Watch me—mmph.” His voice was muffled as he struggled to chew through the massive mouthful. Langa burst into laughter, shaking his head as Reki attempted to keep the burger from falling apart.

They ate with gusto, swapping bites and stealing fries off each other’s plates, the conversation flowing naturally between them. As they finished up, both of them leaned back in their seats, satisfied and content.

“Okay, I gotta admit,” Reki said, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin, “the chili cheeseburger was better than I expected. You’ve got good taste, Langa.”

“Told you,” Langa said smugly, sipping the last of his milkshake.

“Yeah, yeah,” Reki waved him off, his smile never fading. “Next time, I get to pick the food, though.”

Langa’s smile mirrored Reki’s, soft and easy, as if being here like this—together, sharing a simple meal—was the most natural thing in the world.

After lingering a bit longer over the last sips of their milkshakes, they finally flagged down the waitress for the check. Reki insisted on paying, waving off Langa’s attempts to split it.

“Come on, I got this one,” Reki said, pulling out his wallet and handing over the cash. “Besides, you paid for the tickets, so we’re even now.”

Langa sighed, but there was no real argument in it. “Okay.”

They slid out of the red leather booth, stretching their legs after being seated for so long. The bell above the door jingled softly as they pushed through it, stepping out into the cool night air.

The sky had deepened while they were inside, now a vast, inky expanse stretched over the town. Stars were scattered across it like flecks of silver, and the streetlights cast a warm, golden glow over the sidewalks, making the pavement shimmer. The air was brisk, carrying a faint chill that made Reki shiver slightly, pulling his sleeves down over his hands.

“Man, it got pretty cold, huh?” he remarked, rubbing his hands together as they started down the empty street. Langa nodded, shoving his own hands deep into his jacket pockets. His gaze drifted upward for a moment, taking in the quiet, almost serene stillness of the night.

“Yeah… but it’s nice,” Langa murmured softly. “Everything feels calm.”

Reki glanced at him, catching the peaceful look on Langa’s face, and something about it made his chest feel light. He cleared his throat, trying to shake off the unexpected fluttering in his stomach. Stuffing his hands back into his pockets, he sped up his pace slightly, falling into a comfortable stride beside Langa.

“You know, I’ve been wondering,” Reki said after a moment, the thought suddenly surfacing in his mind. “What kind of music do you listen to? I mean, I can’t really tell what you’d like just from talking to you.”

Langa blinked, turning his attention to Reki. “Music?” He tilted his head slightly, considering the question. “I like a lot of different stuff… usually depends on what I’m doing. Something chill when I’m studying or working, but when I’m doing an activity like going to the gym, I like stuff with more energy. Why?”

“Just curious,” Reki shrugged, a grin tugging at his lips. He pulled out his phone and started rifling through his pocket for his earphones. “Here, let me show you one of my favorites. You said you like energetic stuff, right?”

Langa raised an eyebrow but didn’t protest as Reki finally managed to untangle the wires of his earphones and offered him one of them.

“Go on, take it,” Reki urged, holding it out expectantly. “You might actually like this one.”

Langa accepted the earbud, still looking a bit skeptical. “Alright. But if I don’t, I’m blaming you.”

Reki snorted, plugging the other earbud into his ear and grinning confidently. “You won’t. It’s a good track. It’s called Strawberry Daydream by Pacific Avenue. You’ll see what I mean.”

He scrolled through his playlist, quickly finding the song, and hit play. Almost immediately, the guitar riff filled the silence between them—sharp and energetic, with a heavy beat that made it impossible not to feel the urge to move.

They continued walking, the music swirling between them like an unspoken connection. Reki snuck glances at Langa, watching his expression shift as the song progressed—the way his eyes widened slightly at the first crescendo, the small nod of his head as the chorus hit with full force. Reki’s grin widened, feeling a sense of satisfaction welling up inside him.

“It’s good, right?” he asked, his voice slightly louder to be heard over the music.

Langa glanced over, his eyes lighting up in a way that Reki hadn’t seen before. He looked… thrilled. “It’s more than good,” he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of awe. “It’s awesome.”

Reki’s grin turned almost triumphant, something bright and giddy unfurling in his chest. “Knew you’d like it. This song always gets me fired up. I listen to it whenever I need to get pumped. It’s got that perfect mix of rock and melody, y’know?”

Langa nodded, and Reki watched as he fished his own phone out of his pocket, his thumb tapping quickly at the screen. “What’s the name again?” Langa asked, his focus still on the song, as if he didn’t want to miss a single beat.

“Strawberry Darydream by Pacific Avenue,” Reki repeated, spelling it out for him. “It’s not super well-known, but it should be. Their whole discography is insane.”

Langa tapped it into his phone and hit save with a satisfied nod. “I’ll listen to more of their stuff later.”

Reki couldn’t stop smiling. It wasn’t a big deal—just a song—but sharing it with Langa felt… significant, somehow. Like he’d shown him a small piece of himself, and Langa had accepted it. They continued down the quiet street, their shoulders occasionally brushing, the electric riff of the guitar still buzzing through Reki’s ear like a live wire. Each beat seemed to echo the steady rhythm of his own heart, each lyric a reminder of the high that came from being completely and utterly understood.

Before they realised it, they’d arrived back at campus and made their way inside the Hall, Reki suddenly wished the night didn’t have to end so soon…

Langa gently pulled out the earbuds and handed it back to Reki, his smile soft and genuine. “Thanks for sharing that with me.”

“Anytime, dude,” Reki said, tucking the earphones away and feeling a bit sheepish under Langa’s gaze. “I’ve got plenty more recommendations if you want.”

“Maybe next time, then,” Langa replied, his tone light, but there was an unspoken promise in the way he said ‘next time’—like he was already looking forward to it.

“Hey, Reki?” Langa’s voice broke through his thoughts, and he turned to find Langa looking at him with a curious expression.

“Yeah?”

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” Langa said simply, but there was a depth to his words that made Reki’s chest tighten.

“Me too,” Reki said softly, his smile widening despite himself. “More than a lot, actually.”

Langa’s lips curved into a small, content smile, and they shared another moment of silence, the kind that felt heavy with meaning, but didn’t need to be filled with words.

“Guess we’ll have to hang out again soon,” Reki said finally, breaking the quiet but not the atmosphere between them.

“Definitely,” Langa agreed, his voice steady and sure.

They made their way up the stairs of the dorm building, stopping at Langa’s floor first. Langa hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at Reki.

“Goodnight, Reki.”

“Goodnight, Langa,” Reki replied, giving him a small wave. “See you tomorrow?”

Langa nodded, a soft smile still on his lips as he turned and made his way down the hall to his room. Reki watched him go, his own smile lingering long after Langa disappeared through the door.

As Reki climbed the last set of stairs to his own floor, he slipped his earphones back in, letting the riff of Strawberry Daydream play in his ear once more. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so happy over something as simple as sharing music and a meal with a friend.

Because that’s what they were, right?

Friends.

Chapter Text

The fluorescent lights above buzzed softly as Reki stood in front of his easel, his eyes fixed on the canvas. The cityscape he’d been pouring his energy into for the past two weeks stretched out before him, a riot of colors and shapes that almost seemed to hum with life. Buildings stacked on top of each other like blocks, their windows reflecting the fractured light of a neon sunset. Streets curled and twisted in vibrant shades of crimson and gold, blurring together like they were melting into the night. It was chaotic, yes, but that was what he loved about it. It felt alive—like it was breathing, like it was real.

But as he glanced over his shoulder at Professor Takeda, his art instructor, who was standing closely behind him, he couldn’t help but feel a creeping sense of unease. Takeda was silent, arms crossed, eyes narrowed as he stared at Reki’s work with the same expression one might reserve for a particularly confusing abstract sculpture.

“Reki,” Professor Takeda began slowly, the word hanging in the air like a weight, “when I reviewed your portfolio last year, I saw a spark—something raw but genuine. A voice that could stand out in the art world.” He paused, letting the words sink in. “But this—” He gestured at the canvas with a sharp flick of his hand. “This just feels… safe.”

Reki’s heart sank at the word. “Safe?” he repeated, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his tone. He swallowed it down quickly, though, eyes darting back to his painting. Had he really been holding back that much? “I thought I was going for something a bit more experimental with the colors, the—”

“No,” Professor Takeda cut him off, tone firm. “You’re just playing with the same bright palette you always do. I see no risk here, no depth.” He stepped closer, pointing to a section of the canvas where the blues of the sky bled into the metallic hues of the buildings. “You’re falling back on your comfort zone—piling on colors without any real intention behind them.”

Reki’s stomach twisted uncomfortably. He opened his mouth to defend himself, but no words came. He glanced at his canvas, seeing it now through Takeda’s eyes. Had he really just slapped colors together without thinking? He’d felt so connected to it when he started—like he was trying to capture a feeling of movement and chaos that reminded him of the city, of life. But now, he felt a flicker of doubt.

“Look, you’re not a bad artist,” Professor Takeda continued, softening his tone slightly. “But you need to push yourself. Right now, your work feels like… like a sketch that never quite becomes a painting.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I expected more from you when I saw your portfolio last year. You showed potential. But if this is all you’re going to give, you’re not going to grow. You’ll just be stuck in this same place—safe and forgettable.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut, leaving Reki feeling winded. Forgettable? He’d been called a lot of things, but never that. He stared at the vibrant mess of shapes and lines on his canvas, seeing now only mistakes and flaws. The colors seemed too loud, too forced. The composition felt jumbled, chaotic in the wrong way. What had once felt like a burst of energy now seemed like a haphazard collection of strokes, desperately trying to hold something together that was already falling apart.

“Fix it. Change it. Start over if you have to,” Takeda added, turning away. “Just do something different. I know you can. I’ve seen it.”

And with that, he moved on to the next student, leaving Reki standing there, staring blankly at his own work. The rest of the class buzzed around him—students talking in hushed voices, the sound of brushes against canvas, the faint clink of palette knives. But it all seemed distant, like a radio station just out of range.

Reki let out a shaky breath, his hands balling into fists at his sides. Safe and forgettable. Was that really all he was? He’d always thought his strength was his use of colour—the way he saw the world in shades and tones others didn’t. But now, he wondered if he was just using that as a crutch. Maybe Takeda was right—maybe he was hiding behind it, too scared to break out of his own patterns and try something truly new.

He glanced around at his classmates. Their canvases all looked so… polished, so intentional. His own piece felt like a juvenile attempt in comparison. He’d thought he was growing, but maybe he was just running in place, stuck in the same spot, painting the same things over and over again.

The class eventually ended, but Reki didn’t move. He stayed where he was, eyes glued to the canvas, trying to figure out where he’d gone wrong. But the longer he looked, the less he saw. Colours bled together, lines lost their form, and before he knew it, everything just looked like a blur.

Slowly, he began to pack up his supplies, hands moving on autopilot. Brushes, palette, rags—all of it went into his bag with the same mechanical precision, his mind far away.

“Forgettable,” he murmured under his breath, the word tasting bitter on his tongue.

Reki was still replaying Professor Takeda’s critique in his head as he stepped out of the studio. The hallway outside was quiet. Lights lined the ceiling, casting a pale glow over the tiled floor. It was the kind of dull lighting that made the world feel grayer, flatter—as if it were reflecting his mood.

He let out a sigh, shoulders slumping as he adjusted the strap of his bag, still feeling the weight of Takeda’s words like a stone in his chest. The words echoed over and over again, gnawing at his confidence like a relentless itch. He glanced down at his shoes as he walked, sneakers squeaking faintly with every step.

But when he lifted his gaze, his heart skipped a beat.

Langa was standing at the entrance of the hall, leaning casually against the wall. He had one foot crossed over the other, a slight frown of concentration on his face as he typed something into his phone. His blue hair fell over his forehead in soft waves, and his expression shifted slightly as he looked up, eyes locking onto Reki.

“There you are,” Langa said, his voice soft but carrying a hint of relief. He pushed off the wall and tucked his phone into his pocket, straightening. “I thought you might’ve been in class longer.”

Reki blinked, genuinely surprised. “Langa? What’re you doing here?”

Langa tilted his head, a confused smile tugging at his lips. “You forgot, didn’t you?” He raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eye. “We made plans this morning to meet up after your class. You know… to go check out the next hint?”

Reki blinked again, his mind struggling to catch up. Oh. Oh. That’s right—they had made plans. It seemed like a lifetime ago now, the morning blurred by everything that had happened in class. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a little sheepish.

“Ah, yeah. Sorry about that,” Reki mumbled, forcing a smile that felt slightly strained. “I, uh… guess I got caught up in my project.”

“No worries,” Langa said easily, but his gaze lingered on Reki’s face a moment too long. His eyes softened, and he took a small step closer. “But… are you okay?” he asked quietly. “You look kind of… down.”

Reki hesitated, glancing away. He wanted to brush it off, to say it was nothing, but the words stuck in his throat. Instead, he shrugged, his shoulders rising and falling in a half-hearted motion.

“It’s just… class stuff,” he said vaguely. “Nothing big.”

Langa’s frown deepened, his brow furrowing slightly. He stayed quiet, waiting, his presence warm and steady. There was no pressure in his gaze, just a calm patience that made Reki’s defenses weaken a little. With a sigh, Reki shifted his bag on his shoulder and glanced back at the closed studio door.

“Professor Takeda didn’t like my piece,” Reki admitted softly, the confession slipping out like a sigh. He bit his lower lip, staring at the floor. “He said I was… forgettable.”

The words tasted just as bitter spoken aloud as they had in his mind. He swallowed hard, fighting to keep his expression neutral. “I don’t know, man. I thought I was pushing myself, you know? Trying new stuff. But… I guess I’m just not good enough.”

Langa’s eyes widened slightly at the last part, and a small frown tugged at his lips. He stepped even closer, almost instinctively, as if drawn in by Reki’s quiet admission.

“That’s not true,” Langa said firmly, his voice soft but sure. “You’re good, Reki. I haven’t seen your art, but I guarantee it’s really good.” There was no hesitation in his words, no doubt. Just pure, unflinching belief. He leaned in, tilting his head slightly to catch Reki’s gaze. “And if Takeda doesn’t see that… then he’s the one who’s wrong. Not you.”

Reki blinked, caught off guard by the intensity in Langa’s voice. He glanced up, meeting those steady blue eyes, and felt a flicker of warmth chase away some of the cold lingering in his chest. Langa’s confidence was so absolute, so genuine, that for a moment, Reki almost believed him.

“Thanks, man,” Reki murmured, his voice a little rough. He managed a small, crooked smile. “You’re way too nice, you know that?”

Langa just shrugged, his lips quirking up in a small, playful smile. “I’m just being honest.” He held Reki’s gaze for another long moment before his smile widened, a spark of mischief in his eyes. “But… I think I know what’ll cheer you up.”

Reki raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself. “Yeah? What’s that?”

“Come on.” Langa’s smile turned into a grin, and he reached out, lightly tugging Reki by the sleeve. “Let’s go check out that hint. Fresh air, a change of scenery—it’ll help, right?”

Reki hesitated for only a second before nodding, something loosening inside his chest. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

As they stepped outside, the late afternoon sunlight cast long shadows across the quad. The sky was a clear, endless blue, a perfect backdrop for the vibrant leaves swaying gently in the breeze. Reki took a deep breath, the crisp air filling his lungs, and felt some of the tension in his shoulders ease.

Langa glanced over at him, his expression still soft but with a hint of curiosity. “So, what did you think the hint meant again?” he asked as they walked, their steps falling into an easy rhythm.

He glanced at Langa, the words from his phone twisting his expression into one of frustration.

“‘Where the city whispers secrets under the moon’s gaze, find the rhythm of nightfall and dance with shadows up high,’” he recited slowly, enunciating each syllable as if doing so might somehow make it click. He shot Langa a perplexed look. “Seriously, what does that even mean?”

Langa’s gaze flickered back to the phone in Reki’s hand, then shifted to scan the campus grounds stretching out in front of them. The cryptic hint had left them both stumped, and they’d been walking ‘round the art building in circles for what felt like forever, trying to decipher it.

“I’m not sure,” Langa admitted, his voice calm yet thoughtful. “But it mentions ‘up high,’ right? So, it’s probably somewhere tall? A rooftop, maybe?”

“Yeah, but that could mean anything,” Reki sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “A building, a hill, even a balcony… There’s too many options. And what’s with ‘dancing with shadows’? It’s not like we’re looking for a dance floor or something.”

They both fell silent, staring at the hint as if it might magically rearrange itself into something that made sense. The campus buzzed with life around them, students moving to and from classes, groups gathered on the grass, and the sun beginning its slow descent toward the horizon, casting long, golden shadows across the pathways.

“Okay, let’s break it down,” Langa said, his voice contemplative as he stopped in his tracks and leaned forward. “‘City whispers secrets under the moon’s gaze’—that sounds like somewhere you can see the city from, right? Somewhere high up, where you can look out at it?”

“Yeah, but not too high,” Reki added, furrowing his brows. “Like, I don’t think it means climbing a tower or anything. More like… a place with a view.” He paused, tapping his foot against the pavement rhythmically. “What about ‘dancing with shadows’? Maybe it’s somewhere that’s only really interesting at night?”

They exchanged glances, both of them starting to think along the same lines. The answer hovered just out of reach, close but not quite tangible.

“Maybe it is a rooftop?” Langa suggested hesitantly, a faint light of realization dawning in his eyes.

Reki’s eyes widened slightly, a spark of excitement lighting up his face. “Wait… If you’re up high on a roof, you’d be able to see the city, right? And with the lights on at night, the shadows would kind of move around like they’re… dancing.”

“Exactly,” Langa agreed, a small, satisfied smile tugging at his lips. “But there are a lot of rooftops on campus. How do we know which one?”

Reki let out a soft groan, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess we’re gonna have to check them out one by one,” he muttered, glancing around. “They did say it would only get harder…The library has a roof garden, doesn’t it? And there’s the dorm building, and maybe the student center…”

“Let’s just start looking,” Langa suggested with a shrug. “We can figure it out as we go.”

So they set off, wandering through campus in search of the rooftop. The first couple of stops proved to be dead ends—the library’s rooftop was closed off for maintenance, and the dorm building’s terrace didn’t have any view of the city at all. But Reki’s determination didn’t waver, and Langa followed quietly beside him, their footsteps echoing softly in the quieter parts of the campus as golden hour began to settle in.

It was only when they reached the humanities building, one of the older structures on campus, that things started to click. The building had a winding staircase that led to a narrow, unmarked door with a sign that read Rooftop Access—Authorized Personnel Only. Reki hesitated for a split second before pushing it open, the metal handle cool under his fingers.

The door swung outward with a long, creaking groan, revealing a small, open space filled with greenery. Potted plants lined the edges, their leaves swaying gently in the evening breeze. A few benches were scattered around, and a low railing surrounded the perimeter, offering a stunning, unobstructed view of the city beyond. The sun had dipped lower now, casting a warm, amber glow over the rooftops and buildings below, while the sky above them was painted in shades of deep indigo and gold.

“This is it,” Reki breathed, stepping out onto the rooftop. His voice was hushed, almost reverent. “It has to be.”

Langa followed him out, his eyes widening slightly as he took in the scene. “It fits the hint,” he said softly, nodding. “The view of the city… the shadows. It’s perfect.”

They both stood there for a moment, letting the peaceful atmosphere of the rooftop garden wash over them. It felt secluded, almost like a hidden sanctuary above the chaos of the world below. The breeze ruffled their hair, and the sound of distant traffic hummed softly in the background, like a gentle whisper from the city itself.

Reki took a deep breath, then glanced around. “Now we just have to figure out what we’re supposed to do here,” he murmured, eyes scanning the area. “There’s gotta be another clue or something.”

They split up, searching the rooftop carefully. Reki combed through the greenery, checking behind potted plants and under benches, while Langa methodically examined the corners of the garden, his expression focused and intent. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of searching, Reki spotted it—a small folded piece of paper, wedged underneath a metal chair. He pulled it out and unfolded it, his eyes flicking over the handwriting.

“‘Create a piece inspired by this place, using your own voice. Capture the rooftop garden in motion and stillness, and let it speak through your own way of art. You can do anything you like.’” Reki read aloud, a slow grin spreading across his face. He glanced up at Langa, his eyes bright with excitement. “Perfect for us, huh?”

Langa’s smile mirrored his, a soft light of understanding in his eyes. “Yeah, it is.”

They exchanged a look, both of them sharing the same unspoken thought. This place, this moment—it was theirs to interpret, to bring to life in their own unique ways.

“Well then, I think I’ll sketch it!” Reki decided, glancing at the garden, the skyline, the play of shadows and light. His fingers itched to grab his sketchpad from his backpack, to trace the shapes of the buildings, the curve of the plants, the way the city lights glimmered in the distance like scattered jewels.

Langa nodded thoughtfully, looking around the space with fresh eyes. “I’ll write about it,” he murmured. “How it feels to be here, caught between the city and the sky.”

Reki felt a surge of excitement as he pulled out his sketchpad and pencils, settling onto one of the benches. He glanced over at Langa, who had already taken out a small notebook and pen, his posture relaxed yet focused. For the next hour, they worked in companionable silence, the rooftop garden filling with the soft sounds of pencil against paper and pen against page.

The sun dipped lower, and the city lights began to flicker to life, one by one, casting long, dancing shadows across the garden. The colors of the sky shifted from gold to deep violet, and the air around them cooled, wrapping the rooftop in a soft, quiet stillness.

Reki’s hand moved almost of its own accord, tracing the delicate lines of the railing, the sweeping arc of the skyline beyond. He found himself getting lost in the details—the texture of the plants, the way the light caught on the edges of the leaves, the way Langa’s expression softened as he wrote. It was all so vivid, so alive, and he felt a rush of gratitude for being able to capture it, to let it flow from his mind to his hand to the page.

Langa, too, seemed utterly absorbed in his own world, his pen moving swiftly as he filled the pages with words, the faintest smile curving his lips. Every now and then, he would glance up, his gaze lingering on Reki’s sketch, and a look of fascination would flicker across his face—quiet, intense, and unguarded.

When they finally finished, the rooftop was bathed in the soft glow of city lights, and the sky above them was dotted with stars.

Langa’s gaze drifted from the darkening city skyline to the sketchpad in front of Reki. He leaned in slightly, peering over, and his eyes widened as they took in the intricacies of the drawing.

The rooftop garden sprawled across the page, each line and shadow rendered in delicate, precise strokes. It was more than just a technical depiction of the space—Reki had managed to breathe life into it, infusing the drawing with a vibrancy that made it feel as though the plants and buildings were swaying in the breeze. The scene was caught between motion and stillness, a place that existed somewhere between the real and the dreamlike. The textures were soft yet defined, the perspective slightly skewed in a way that made everything feel larger than life. It was Reki’s world, laid out in graphite and paper, humming with energy.

“Reki…” Langa’s voice was barely more than a whisper, as though speaking too loudly might shatter the delicate spell of the moment. “That’s incredible.” His eyes traced the fine lines of the cityscape, the way Reki had captured the interplay of light and shadow across the leaves, the way the horizon blurred seamlessly into the evening sky. “I don’t know what your art teacher was talking about. You didn’t just draw the scene—you made it come alive.”

Reki glanced at him, a startled look crossing his face. “…You think so?” He shifted his weight slightly, suddenly hyper-aware of Langa’s presence in front of him. His fingers tightened around the edge of his sketchpad, knuckles turning white. “I mean… it’s just a quick sketch. Nothing special.”

But Langa shook his head, his gaze unwavering. “No, it’s not ‘just’ a sketch. It’s… everything.” He reached out tentatively, not quite touching the paper, as if afraid to disturb the artwork. “You’ve captured so much—how peaceful it feels up here, how the city’s almost blending into the sky. I can practically feel the breeze just by looking at it.”

Reki felt his cheeks flush, a warm heat creeping up his neck and settling on his face. Compliments like these weren’t exactly new—his family back home had always been supportive of his art, and he’d even had a few pieces praised in class by his peers. But the way Langa spoke—soft and earnest, like he meant every word, like he was seeing something precious—it was different. Intense. Almost overwhelming.

“I… I just wanted to show how the garden and the city kind of merge together,” Reki mumbled, his voice low and self-conscious. “The way you can stand up here and feel both completely separate from everything, but also… connected, I guess.”

Langa nodded slowly, still staring at the sketch in awe. “You did that perfectly. I can’t imagine how it could be any better.” He glanced up at Reki, blue eyes shining with admiration. “You’re really talented, Reki.”

“Dude, stop…” Reki muttered, ducking his head slightly to hide his embarrassed grin. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, his fingers tangling in his hair. “You’re gonna make me blush.”

Langa chuckled softly, the sound genuine. “Too late for that.” He gestured at Reki’s flushed cheeks, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. “But really, I mean it. I’d love to see more of your work sometime. All of it...Well, only if you want to.”

Reki’s eyes widened in surprise, caught off guard by the request. “All of it?” he repeated, his voice a mix of disbelief and curiosity. He’d never had anyone ask to see everything he’d ever drawn or painted before. Most people were content with a piece or two, maybe a portfolio, but the thought of showing Langa all his sketches, his practice drawings, the unfinished pieces that cluttered his room and studio—it felt… intimate. Vulnerable. He hesitated, glancing down at his sketchpad, then back up at Langa.

“I—well, I guess I could… I mean, if you really want to…” he stammered, his voice trailing off into a sheepish murmur. He took a deep breath, gathering his courage, and managed a small, genuine smile. “Tomorrow’s Saturday, so if you’re free… I could bring you to the studio. Show you everything I’ve been working on.”

Langa’s eyes lit up, and he nodded eagerly, his entire face brightening. “I’d love that,” he said softly. “I’d really like to see how you put all of yourself into your work. It’s… special.”

Reki swallowed hard, his heart thudding loudly in his chest. For a moment, he was at a loss for words, caught in the sincerity of Langa’s gaze. “Okay, then. Tomorrow it is,” he managed to say, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “But only if I get to read what you wrote tonight.”

Langa blinked, then glanced down at his own notebook, his expression turning contemplative. “What I wrote?” he echoed, as if the idea of someone else reading his words hadn’t quite occurred to him. But then he smiled, a small, almost shy smile that made Reki’s chest tighten inexplicably. “Sure. If you really want to.”

“Of course I want to!” Reki grinned, leaning over slightly to peer at Langa’s notebook. “Come on, let me see. You were so focused earlier—it’s gotta be something good.”

Langa hesitated for only a moment before carefully handing over the notebook, his fingers lingering on the edges of the pages. Reki took it gently, flipping to the page Langa had been writing on, and his eyes skimmed over the neat handwriting.

It was a short piece—no more than a few paragraphs—but the words seemed to hum with life. Langa had written about the rooftop garden as if it were a place suspended between worlds, caught in the delicate balance between motion and stillness. He described the way the breeze whispered through the leaves, carrying with it the soft, murmuring secrets of the city below. The lights of the buildings in the distance were like stars scattered across the ground, and the darkness around them was a living thing, wrapping them in a gentle embrace.

Reki found himself caught up in the rhythm of the words, the subtle poetry of Langa’s descriptions. There was something almost lyrical about it, something that made him feel the quiet magic of the rooftop all over again, as if he were seeing it through Langa’s eyes.

“Langa, this is…” Reki looked up, his voice filled with awe. “It’s beautiful. You captured the whole vibe of the place. The way it feels up here—the calmness, the way the city and the sky just… blend together. It’s perfect.”

Langa’s cheeks flushed faintly, and he scratched the back of his head, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “It’s not much. Just what I felt while we were up here.”

“Are you kidding?” Reki shook his head, his smile widening. “It’s so good. I don’t think I could ever put something like that into words.”

“Just like I couldn’t draw it the way you did,” Langa countered softly, his gaze lingering on Reki’s sketch once more. “We both captured it, but in different ways.”

Reki shifted his weight, letting out a small breath as he glanced down at the sketch he’d poured himself into for the past hour. The faint lines and shadows were sharp against the smooth surface of his sketchpad, and though the rooftop garden around them was dimly lit by the soft glow of campus lights, every detail in his drawing was clear and vibrant. He’d captured the delicate curves of the potted plants, the way the leaves stretched upward as if reaching for the last traces of sunlight. The iron railings, the scattered benches, the faint textures of the stone pathway—it was all there, a perfect still moment frozen in time.

He looked up at Langa, who was watching him with a thoughtful expression. “Well,” Reki said finally, his voice breaking the quiet, “we should probably take a photo for proof, huh?” He offered Langa a sheepish grin, a small attempt to break the sudden shyness that had settled over him like a heavy blanket.

Langa’s lips twitched upward, a gentle smile lighting up his face as he nodded. Without a word, he pulled out his phone, got out of his seat from across him, walked around the metal table and sat beside him. Shifting closer, their shoulders brushing lightly. He raised the phone in front of them, angling it so both of their works fit neatly into the frame. Reki adjusted his sketchpad, angling it so the detailed drawing of the rooftop scene was visible, while Langa lifted his notebook to show the carefully penned lines, the words capturing the tranquil beauty of the place in his own unique way.

“Okay,” Langa murmured softly, his voice almost lost in the quiet night. He glanced at Reki out of the corner of his eye, his gaze lingering for a second longer before he turned back to the screen. “Ready? One, two, three…”

The phone emitted a faint click, capturing the moment with a flash of light that seemed to blend seamlessly into the warm glow of the surrounding garden. Reki glanced at the screen, studying the image with a critical eye. They looked—content, almost peaceful. The rooftop garden spread out behind them in soft tones of green and brown, the plants swaying gently in the evening breeze, and above them, the sky was a deep shade of indigo, darkening with the approach of night.

Langa’s phone screen displayed the contrast between their creations—Reki’s sketch, full of intricate details and sharp lines, and Langa’s notebook, filled with neat handwriting that looked almost too perfect to be real. Reki leaned closer, his shoulder pressing against Langa’s as he took in the picture.

“Looks good,” Langa said quietly, his voice tinged with a hint of pride as he turned the phone slightly so Reki could get a better look.

Reki nodded, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yeah, not bad at all,” he agreed with a nod.

Langa laughed softly, his gaze still lingering on the image. Slowly, he placed his notebook on the table and lifted his phone again. “Now… one for just us.”

Reki’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but before he could respond, Langa shifted the phone, holding it slightly higher and closer. The light from the screen illuminated his face, highlighting the soft curve of his smile, the brightness in his eyes. His hand brushed against Reki’s shoulder, sending a small, electric jolt through Reki that made his breath catch in his throat.

This time, they didn’t hold up the notebook or sketchpad. It was just the two of them, side by side, the world around them fading into a soft blur as Langa leaned in a little closer, the subtle scent of pine and something clean lingering between them. The camera clicked again, and Langa glanced down at the screen, his smile growing just a fraction wider as he lowered the phone. “There. Something just for us.”

Reki looked at the image on the screen, his heart giving a strange, unfamiliar flutter. It wasn’t like any other photo they’d taken. There was something unguarded about their expressions, something genuine that seemed to pulse softly in the space between them. He swallowed hard, feeling a flush creep up his neck.

“Nice,” Reki murmured, his voice softer now, a little breathless. He turned his gaze back to Langa, noticing the way the moonlight softened his features, casting shadows along the curve of his jaw and the slight crinkle at the corners of his eyes. “It’s… yeah, it’s good.”

Langa’s gaze flicked over to him, and for a moment, Reki felt completely exposed, like Langa was seeing right through him to some hidden part he didn’t even know existed. The intensity in Langa’s blue eyes was almost overwhelming—too much, too bright—but Reki couldn’t bring himself to look away.

“Mind if we stay for a bit?” Langa asked after a long pause, his voice gentle, as if he didn’t want to break the fragile thread that had formed between them.

“Yeah, sure,” Reki replied, the words coming out a bit unsteady.

The silence that settled between them now wasn’t uncomfortable. It was thick and warm, like a shared secret or a promise whispered in the dark. The faint rustling of leaves, the distant hum of campus life—everything seemed muted, as if the world was holding its breath around them.

“So,” Langa began, his voice breaking the stillness. He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table, his gaze never leaving Reki’s face. “We’ve been hanging out for the past four days, but… I feel like there’s still so much I don’t know about you.”

Reki blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. He tilted his head, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Really? You think so?”

“Yeah,” Langa said softly, his gaze earnest and unwavering. “Like… why did you decide to focus on art? What made you want to be an artist?”

Reki hesitated, his fingers brushing absently over the cover of his sketchpad. “I don’t know… I guess I’ve just always liked drawing and creating things, you know?” He glanced down at his hands, fingers stained faintly with ink and paint, a testament to the hours he’d spent hunched over his canvas that morning. “I used to sketch all the time as a kid. It was… I dunno, like this way of making sense of everything around me. Putting stuff down on paper felt like the only way to make it all clear.”

Langa nodded slowly, his eyes soft with understanding. “Did something happen that made you want to turn it into more than just a hobby?”

Reki let out a soft, almost self-deprecating laugh. “There was this one art teacher I had in middle school… She saw me doodling in the back of class and told me that I had potential. No one had really said that to me before. It made me think, ‘Hey, maybe I can actually do this.’” He looked up at Langa, his gaze hesitant but hopeful. “She made me believe I could be more than just some kid who liked to draw.”

“That’s really cool,” Langa murmured, his voice low and genuine. “It’s like she saw something in you that maybe you didn’t even see in yourself back then.”

Reki nodded, a thoughtful smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, I guess so.” He tilted his head, his gaze curious as he turned the question back on Langa. “What about you? Why’d you choose writing? I mean, I know you’re good at it, but… was there a reason?”

Langa’s expression softened, his gaze turning inward. “I think… writing was a way for me to understand things I didn’t really know how to say out loud,” he admitted quietly. “Especially after my dad passed away. There were so many things I wanted to talk about, but I didn’t know how. So I started writing them down instead.”

Reki’s heart ached at Langa’s words, the pain and vulnerability woven through them hitting him like a physical blow. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, the words feeling inadequate but sincere.

Langa shook his head, a faint, bittersweet smile on his lips. “It’s okay. It was a while ago. But writing… it helped. It made things feel a little less heavy, you know?”

“Yeah,” Reki breathed, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I think I get that.”

They fell into a deep silence again, one that felt more meaningful than words could ever be. Reki glanced over at Langa, seeing him not just as a scavenger partner or a friend, but as someone who understood what it meant to create not just because you wanted to, but because you had to. Someone who knew how to turn pain into something beautiful.

“You’re a pretty cool guy, Langa,” Reki said softly, almost to himself, the words slipping out before he could think them through. He felt a sudden rush of heat to his cheeks and quickly looked away, hoping the darkness would hide his embarrassment.

Langa’s quiet laugh filled the space between them, warm and genuine. “You’re not so bad yourself, Reki.”

And just like that, Reki felt the tension melt away, replaced by a quiet sense of contentment. They didn’t need to say anything more. Just sitting there, side by side under the starry sky, felt like more than enough.

Eventually, Reki glanced down at their earlier work—the sketchpad and the notebook now resting beside them. “I’m glad we did this,” he murmured, more to himself than to Langa. “Even if it’s just for the scavenger hunt… it felt good to create something new, you know?”

Langa nodded slowly, his gaze softening as he looked at Reki. “Yeah, it did.” He leaned back, looking up at the sky. “Maybe we should do stuff like this more often.”

Reki turned to look at him, surprise and a smile spreading across his face. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

And for a while longer, they sat there, letting the night wrap around them, their unspoken thoughts and shared dreams lingering in the air like the faint scent of flowers carried on the breeze.

-

The warm light of Saturday morning filtered softly through the blinds in Reki’s dorm room, casting long, lazy shadows across the mess of clothes and discarded sketches that littered the floor. The entire space was an explosion of chaotic energy—scattered art supplies competing for space on his cluttered desk, an unkempt pile of paintbrushes overflowing from a cracked mug, and countless loose pages of half-finished drawings, all strewn about as if caught in the aftermath of a creative storm. The faint buzz of early afternoon activity outside drifted through the slightly open window, a distant reminder that the day had already begun to unravel.

Reki, however, was blissfully unaware, buried beneath a mound of tangled sheets, his cheek smushed against the pillow in a deep, dreamless sleep. He was sprawled out in an awkward position, one leg hanging off the bed and his arm slung across his chest. He shifted slightly, murmuring incoherently as his phone—discarded haphazardly on the floor near his bed—buzzed insistently. The vibration rattled against the wooden floor, emitting a faint hum that finally pierced through the fog of sleep clouding Reki’s mind.

With a groggy groan, Reki’s eyelids fluttered open, his vision blurry and unfocused. He fumbled blindly for his phone, fingers brushing against smooth metal before gripping it tightly. Blinking a few times, he squinted at the bright screen, the text message notification glowing in stark contrast to the dimly lit room. He stared blankly at the screen for a few moments, his sleep-addled brain struggling to process the message.

Langa: morning, just a reminder, see you at 11:30 by the dorm entrance, right?

Langa’s name stood out like a beacon, tugging Reki’s thoughts back to reality. He frowned, still half-asleep, and glanced over at the small digital clock on his nightstand. For a split second, his brain refused to register what he was seeing, the numbers almost nonsensical.

11:45 AM.

And then, the realization hit him like a cold wave crashing against the shore.

“Oh, shit!” Reki shot up, nearly toppling off the edge of his bed in his panic. “Oh shit- I’m so late!” His voice cracked with urgency, echoing in the quiet dorm room and cutting through the stillness like an alarm. The weight of his own words sent a jolt of adrenaline through his system, his heart hammering wildly in his chest.

They were supposed to meet at 11:30! He glanced at the clock again, a sick feeling settling in his stomach—Barely any time to get dressed, gather his stuff, and somehow make it down to the dorm entrance without looking like he’d just rolled out of bed. Which, unfortunately, was exactly what he’d done.

For a moment, Reki was paralyzed by the sheer absurdity of the situation. He was one of the few people who could actually function without gallons of caffeine in the morning, so normally, he didn’t have that much of a hard time waking up—but last night he’d been up way too late sketching, trying to work through the swirling mess of ideas and emotions after his talk with Langa and what his Professor had told him yesterday. Apparently, sleep had caught up with him, and now he was paying the price.

“Clothes. I need—right—uh—” Reki scrambled out of bed, nearly tripping over the tangle of sheets in his haste. His gaze darted frantically around the room, searching for something, anything that didn’t look like it had been worn for the past three days straight. His eyes landed on a crumpled t-shirt half-buried under a hoodie, but the thought of showing up to meet Langa looking like a total slob made his stomach twist with embarrassment.

“Why didn’t I set an alarm—ugh, what am I even doing?” He groaned, yanking open the door to his closet and rifling through hangers with frantic hands. Shirts and hoodies blurred together, none of them seeming quite right in his sleep-addled state. He could almost feel the seconds ticking away, each one amplifying the ever-growing sense of panic thrumming through his veins.

After a few more seconds of desperate searching, Reki finally grabbed a plain white tee and a blue flannel, tossing them onto the bed before turning to his drawer for a decent pair of jeans. But just as he started to sift through the mess, the door from the bathroom creaked open, and a familiar figure stepped out.

“Hey, Reki—” Miya’s voice, usually cool and detached, was unexpectedly light. He stood casually in the doorway, dressed in a simple hoodie and jeans, a small backpack slung over one shoulder.

Reki whipped around, his heart still racing from the adrenaline. “Miya?” he blurted out, incredulity lacing his tone. “Where are you going?”

Miya raised an eyebrow, casting a critical glance around the mess of Reki’s room. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” He gestured vaguely to the heap of clothes and the general state of disarray. “It looks like a tornado hit this place.”

Reki let out a huff, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “I—don’t change the subject! You never leave your room on weekends unless someone drags you out. What’s up?”

Miya’s lips quirked into a faint, almost secretive smile, one that only made Reki more suspicious. “Just… got something to do. Not really your business.”

“Not my—” Reki sputtered, his panic momentarily forgotten as confusion took over. “You’re never this vague, Miya. Come on, what’s going on?”

But Miya just shrugged, his expression remaining annoyingly enigmatic. “Don’t worry about it. You’ve got more important things to deal with, like not making Langa wait because you can’t get dressed fast enough.” He shot Reki a pointed look, his gaze flicking over to the clock.

Reki’s eyes widened in horror as he realized he’d just lost another precious minute to this conversation. “Crap, you’re right!” He turned back to his bed, snatching up the t-shirt and yanking it over his head with a level of urgency that bordered on frantic. “But you’re telling me where you’re going when I get back, got it?”

“Sure, sure,” Miya said airily, rolling his eyes as he adjusted the strap of his backpack. “Just don’t trip over yourself running out of here.”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” Reki muttered, his words slightly muffled as he pulled on the flannel. He glanced around wildly, looking for his wallet and keys. After a few agonizing seconds of searching, his gaze landed on his desk, where they were half-buried under a stack of sketches and loose sheets of paper. He grabbed them hastily, shoving them into his pockets before turning back to Miya.

“Okay, I’m seriously leaving now,” Reki announced breathlessly, throwing a last, hurried glance in the mirror. His hair was a mess—bedhead still clinging stubbornly to the wild, tousled strands—but there was no time to deal with it properly. He gave it a half-hearted brush with his fingers, smoothing down the worst of the tangles, then snatched up his backpack.

Miya gave him a once-over, the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips. “You still look like you just woke up.”

“Yeah, well, some of us aren’t superhumans who can function on zero sleep,” Reki shot back, his tone dry but lacking bite. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to slow down for just a second.

“Don’t get into trouble while I’m gone, okay?”

“No promises,” Miya called out as Reki bolted past him and out the door.

Reki took the stairs two at a time, his mind a blur of half-formed thoughts and last-minute worries. His sneakers thudded against the steps, the sound echoing loudly in the stairwell as he flew down, his backpack bouncing uncomfortably against his shoulders. He barely registered the startled looks of a few passing students as he burst through the doors and into the open air, his breath coming in quick, shallow pants.

His gaze darted around wildly, searching for that familiar head of pale blue hair amidst the scattered groups of students milling around. And then he saw him—Langa, standing casually near the dorm entrance, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, a small, patient smile on his face.

Reki felt a wave of relief wash over him, his shoulders sagging slightly. He wasn’t that late. He slowed to a jog, trying to catch his breath as he approached.

But as Langa’s eyes met his, a soft laugh escaping his lips, Reki knew he hadn’t fooled him at all.

“Rough morning?” Langa asked lightly, his tone laced with amusement.

Reki let out a breathless laugh, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “You have no idea.”

Langa’s smile widened, his gaze warm and understanding. He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving Reki’s. “It’s okay. You made it. That’s what counts.”

For a moment, Reki forgot about the frantic rush, the mess he’d left behind, and the lingering confusion about Miya’s mysterious outing. All that mattered was the sincerity in Langa’s voice, the way his words seemed to cut through all the noise and settle something inside Reki’s chest.

“Yeah… I guess so,” Reki murmured, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. “Alright, ready to go?”

“Definitely,” Langa replied, his eyes brightening with excitement. “Let’s see that studio of yours.”

With one last glance back at the dorm, Reki pushed all thoughts of the chaotic morning out of his mind. He fell into step beside Langa, their shoulders brushing lightly as they headed off together, the campus slowly waking up around them as they made their way toward the art studio.

-

The walk to the art building felt almost surreal, the familiar rhythm of Reki’s sneakers scuffing against the pavement echoing softly in the stillness around them. The sun hung in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over everything it touched—the kind of light that made even the simplest details stand out with striking clarity. The campus was quieter today, most students having dispersed for the weekend, leaving just the rustle of leaves and the distant hum of traffic as background noise.

With each step, Reki’s nerves grew and shifted into something else—a strange, fluttering anticipation that hummed beneath his skin. He’d never been one to show off his art to anyone outside of class critiques, much less bring someone to see all his work. But as he glanced over at Langa, walking quietly beside him, there was a sense of rightness in the moment. Langa’s presence was calm, unassuming, yet somehow attentive, as if he was soaking in every detail of their surroundings, ready to commit it to memory.

The art building loomed ahead of them, its modern design a blend of sharp angles and sweeping curves, standing out starkly against the older brick-and-stone buildings scattered across campus. Massive glass windows reflected the soft light of the afternoon, casting fragmented beams across the walkway as they approached the entrance.

“Wow,” Langa murmured, his voice a low murmur of awe as they stepped inside. His gaze swept over the spacious interior—the high ceilings, the walls adorned with student work, and the quiet, almost reverent atmosphere that seemed to permeate the place. There was something almost magical about it, as if they’d stepped into a world where time moved just a little bit slower, each second stretched out and lingering.

“Yeah, this place is pretty amazing,” Reki agreed softly, his voice barely louder than a whisper. He gestured toward a hallway off to the left. “The studio I use is just down here. It’s usually pretty empty on weekends, so I don’t have to worry about being interrupted.”

They moved down the corridor, their footsteps a muted echo against the polished linoleum floors. The hallway stretched out before them, lined with framed student works—paintings and sketches in various styles, each piece telling its own story. Reki couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride as they passed the displayed artworks. The art department had always been a second home to him, a place where he could let his imagination run wild. And now, sharing it with Langa, it felt even more special—like he was letting him in on a part of his world that very few got to see.

As they neared the studio door, Reki shifted awkwardly, raising a hand to smooth down his wild, unkempt hair. “Sorry about my hair by the way,” he mumbled, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “Didn’t really have time to, uh, do anything about it.”

Langa glanced at him, a faint smile ghosting over his lips as his gaze lingered on Reki’s tousled red locks. “It’s fine,” he murmured softly, his tone almost contemplative. His eyes seemed to trace every strand, the light catching on the faint undertones in Reki’s hair. After a moment, he hesitated, as if weighing his words carefully, before adding in a quieter voice as Reki turned around,

“It looks kinda cute, actually.”

Reki’s breath caught in his throat, his heart stumbling over itself as he turned to stare at Langa. “What?” he asked, eyes wide with surprise.

Had he heard that right?

“Did you just—what did you say?”

Langa’s expression remained perfectly composed, his face a picture of calm as he glanced away, feigning innocence. “I said it’s fine,” he repeated evenly, his voice steady and neutral. “Nothing else.”

Reki opened his mouth to protest, to say something—anything—but the words stuck in his throat, the faint heat spreading across his cheeks rendering him speechless. Had he imagined it? That soft, almost tender note in Langa’s voice, the barely-there compliment? He bit his lip, uncertainty coiling in his chest, but there was also something else—a small, secret thrill that made his pulse quicken. The thought of Langa complimenting him, even if he’d misheard, sent a warmth spreading through his veins.

“Right, yeah, okay,” Reki muttered, his gaze darting away as he fumbled with the door handle. He pushed it open with a little more force than necessary, the door swinging inward to reveal the spacious studio beyond. “Anyway, here we are.”

The studio was bathed in soft, natural light, courtesy of the large windows that lined one wall and overlooked a grassy courtyard outside. The space was cluttered but welcoming, with easels scattered haphazardly and canvases propped up against every available surface. It was Reki’s personal corner that drew Langa’s attention, though—a whirlwind of art supplies, from half-empty tubes of paint to stacks of sketchbooks and a few finished pieces leaning precariously against the wall.

“This is where you work?” Langa asked softly, stepping inside with a certain level of reverence in his voice. His gaze swept over the organized chaos of Reki’s corner, his expression one of genuine interest and curiosity.

“Yeah,” Reki replied, swallowing the lump in his throat. He moved over to his corner, casting a quick glance around to make sure nothing too personal was lying out in the open. “It’s, uh, kinda messy, but… yeah. This is where I spend most of my time.”

Langa nodded, his gaze lingering on the canvases stacked against the wall. “Can I… see some of it?” he asked hesitantly, almost as if he were afraid of overstepping.

Reki took a deep breath, then knelt down and carefully began pulling out various pieces. There were portraits, landscapes, still lifes—each one a different style and technique, showing the range of his abilities. He laid them out gently, arranging them on the table so Langa could see each one clearly.

“This one’s a portrait of a friend from high school” he explained softly, gesturing to a painting of a young woman with wild, windblown hair, her face half-shrouded in shadow. “I haven’t seen her years and I found this picture on my phone of her so I decided to paint it.”

Then he pointed to a stormy landscape, the sky roiling with dark clouds. “This one was inspired by a trip I took last year. There was this insane thunderstorm that blew in out of nowhere.”

Langa nodded slowly, his eyes taking in every detail with an intensity that made Reki’s heart pound. He moved closer, standing right beside Reki to get a better look at the canvases, his expression a mixture of awe and admiration. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, just letting his gaze drift from piece to piece, fingers hovering just above the surface as if he were afraid to touch and disrupt the magic.

“This is… incredible,” Langa breathed finally, his voice barely louder than a whisper. He glanced up at Reki, his eyes bright with genuine awe. “I don’t get what your teacher was talking about. These are so full of life—you’ve captured the feeling of each scene perfectly.”

Reki’s breath hitched at the sincerity in Langa’s tone. He ducked his head, a bashful smile tugging at his lips. “You think so?”

“I know so,” Langa insisted, his gaze steady and unwavering. He reached out, gently tapping the edge of one of the canvases. “It’s like I can almost feel the wind blowing through these hills. And the colors… you use them in such a unique way. There’s so much movement, so much emotion.”

Reki flushed at the praise, warmth spreading beneath his skin like sunlight. He’d heard compliments before—from classmates, professors—but hearing it from Langa, seeing the genuine admiration in his eyes, made it feel… different. More real. More personal.

Langa’s gaze shifted from the paintings around them to Reki, a thoughtful expression settling on his face. “Hey… do you think I could see the piece you were working on yesterday?” His voice was gentle, almost careful, as if he didn’t want to push too hard but still wanted Reki to know he was genuinely interested.
“The one that your teacher said was…forgettable.”

Reki’s hand stilled on the canvas he was paying attention to, his breath catching slightly. He hesitated, glancing at his other works as if searching for an excuse not to show it. That painting felt too personal now, too raw after the criticism he’d received. But something in Langa’s expression—open, patient, and quietly encouraging—made the walls he’d put up falter just a little. With a slow, unsure nod, Reki sighed and reached over to a large canvas partially hidden behind some others.

“Okay,” he murmured, pulling it out with a sense of trepidation. “I’ll show you… but it’s not anything special. I was trying to capture something, but I guess it didn’t really come through.” He glanced up at Langa, meeting his gaze with uncertainty clouding his amber eyes, before turning the canvas around to reveal his chaotic cityscape.

“It’s this one. My professor said it was too safe…I don’t know. He didn’t really get it.”

Langa’s gaze swept over the canvas, his eyes widening slightly as he took in the chaotic swirl of colors and shapes. The buildings seemed to bleed into each other, the lines blurring and twisting in ways that felt both deliberate and wild, like they were on the verge of collapsing. It was messy and vibrant, full of energy and life, but there was a strange sense of unease to it as well—a kind of restless tension that made the whole piece feel like it was vibrating with barely-contained emotion.

“I really like it,” Langa said softly, his voice filled with quiet admiration. He glanced up at Reki, his eyes searching. “What were you trying to convey with this?”

Reki hesitated, his gaze flickering back to the canvas. The truth was, he didn’t really know. He’d just wanted to paint something that felt chaotic, something that reflected the way his mind was always racing, always jumping from one thought to the next. But putting that into words…

“I… don’t really know,” he admitted quietly, his voice almost lost in the stillness of the studio. “I just… I wanted it to feel chaotic, I guess. Like… like my brain. It’s always going a mile a minute, you know? Always running, never really stopping.”

Langa’s expression softened, his gaze warm and understanding. “It definitely feels chaotic,” he murmured. “But maybe… maybe adding something to ground it might help. Like a person, or an object that can convey emotion. Something that people can connect to, instead of just colors and shapes.”

Reki blinked, taken aback by the suggestion. He turned back to the canvas, studying it with fresh eyes. “A person, huh…”

“Yeah,” Langa continued, his voice thoughtful. “It might help convey what you’re trying to say a little more clearly. Make it more personal. You already have so much emotion in the colors and the lines—adding a focal point might give it that extra something to really draw people in.”

Reki considered that, his gaze lingering on the canvas. The idea of adding a person—a figure that could anchor the chaos and give it meaning—felt both daunting and… intriguing. A smile tugged at his lips as he glanced over at Langa, his chest tight with something he couldn’t quite name.

“I’ll… I’ll think about it,” he murmured softly. And as he looked back at his work, he found himself seeing it in a new light—one that was somehow sharper, more focused.

“Thanks, Langa,” he said quietly, a small, genuine smile curving his lips. “I think… I think that might actually help.”

-

After settling back into the studio, the next hour unfolded in a calm, steady rhythm. The quiet hum of concentration filled the space as Reki perched on a stool, his sketchbook in front of him. He stared down at the cityscape he’d been trying to reimagine, Langa’s earlier suggestion looping through his mind.

‘Add a person.’

The thought seemed simple enough, but every time he tried to incorporate it, his pencil hovered hesitantly, the concept of adding a human element into it felt both elusive and daunting. Still, he couldn’t dismiss the challenge, so he began sketching faint outlines of figures, shadowy silhouettes blending into the bustling landscape of the cityscape.

Across the table, Langa was deeply immersed in his own world of creation. His head bowed low, his pen glided across the notebook in a steady, confident flow. A slight furrow marked his brow, and his eyes tracked each line he crafted with a calm, focused intensity. Every so often, he would pause, fingers stilling mid-motion, gaze growing distant as if chasing after some elusive thought, before he resumed writing with renewed purpose. Reki found his gaze drawn upwards, stealing glimpses of Langa through the shifting silence of the room. The way Langa’s jaw set, the gentle slope of his shoulders as he leaned forward—it was rare to see him so consumed by a task. There was a subtle magnetism in it, an almost gradual pull that held Reki’s attention captive.

It wasn’t exactly admiration that kept Reki’s eyes returning to Langa, but something else—something softer and more indistinct, a sensation that made his chest feel both heavy and strangely light. His gaze would linger on the curve of Langa’s lips as he mouthed words under his breath, or on the way his fingers tapped absently against the notebook’s spine during a moment’s pause. It was as if Langa’s focus formed a small, distinct orbit, one that Reki found himself gravitating into, despite his best efforts to pay attention to his own work.

The stillness between them was suddenly broken when Langa glanced up, the motion so quick and unexpected that Reki didn’t have time to look away. Their eyes locked across the table, and for a fleeting heartbeat, Reki froze, caught between the impulse to smile and the instinct to drop his gaze.

“Something wrong?” Langa’s voice was smooth, carrying a note of curiosity. He tilted his head slightly.

Reki blinked, his heart giving a sudden, erratic leap. He fumbled for a response, his grip on the pencil tightening. “No—uh, no, not really. Just, um… thinking.”

Langa’s eyes lingered on Reki for a beat longer before shrugging his shoulders and returned back to his notebook.

Reki exhaled slowly, a mix of relief and a strange fluttering warmth coursing through him. Shaking his head, he tried to focus back on his sketchbook. But no matter how hard he tried, every few minutes his gaze would wander back to Langa.

The quiet rhythm of their work continued, the air between them humming with unspoken thoughts, until Langa finally broke the silence with a soft, contemplative hum. He straightened, stretching his arms high above his head before setting his pen down with a contented sigh. “Hey, that reminds me, Reki,” he began, his voice still carrying the lingering calm of their shared silence. “We still need to do the scavenger hunt hint for today.”

Reki’s head snapped up, his brows drawing together in confusion. “The hint…?” he echoed, then blinked as recognition sparked in his eyes. “Oh, right! The scavenger hunt!” He let out a breathy laugh, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck sheepishly. “I completely forgot. I guess I got a little too caught up in it.” He gestured down at his sketches, showing Langa the vague outlines of human figures interspersed within a sprawling cityscape.

Langa glanced over at the drawings, a small smile tugging at his lips, but his attention quickly shifted back to his phone. “No worries. I was caught up too.” He unlocked his phone, tapping through a few screens until the latest clue popped up. He read it aloud, his voice lilting as if savoring the playful riddle. “‘Where the water ripples and through the windows the sun gleams, find your way to where the team dives and dreams.’”

Reki frowned, the words tumbling through his mind as he repeated them under his breath. “Water… ripples… and sun…” he murmured. “Where the team dives and dreams?” He glanced at Langa, who was studying the hint with equal concentration. “It sounds like it could be something related to sports, right?”

“Or a field,” Langa mused thoughtfully. “Maybe the track?”

Reki tapped his pencil against his knee, brow furrowing deeper. “But ‘water’ and ‘ripples’ make it sound more like a pond or a pool, right? Somewhere that could reflect sunlight… and teams usually practice there.” His eyes lit up suddenly. “Wait—what if it’s the university pool?”

Langa’s eyes widened a fraction, his expression slowly shifting as the pieces began to click into place. “That makes sense. The sun hits the water at the right time of day, and the swim team practices there… It fits.”

“Yeah, but…” Reki trailed off, a slight frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. “The problem is, how do we even get in? The pool’s always locked unless you’re a member of the swim team or have a teacher with you. There’s no way they’d just let us waltz in.”

Langa’s gaze turned distant, his eyes flickering towards the studio door as if weighing their options. “True. And I doubt we can just sneak in easily either.”

Reki let out a sigh, slumping back against his seat as he mulled over the problem. “Maybe we could ask someone who has the keys?”

“Who, though?” Langa asked, leaning back in his chair. “We don’t know any of the swim team members, do we?”

“Not really…” Reki admitted, before a mischievous glint appeared in his eyes. “But we could always try the sports department office. There’s gotta be a staff member or someone who can help us, right?”

Langa raised a skeptical eyebrow. “And you think they’ll just hand over the keys to a couple of random students?”

“…No, but we could use our acting skills,” Reki suggested with a mischievous grin, his eyes lighting up with an idea as he shifts on his chair. He leaned in closer to Langa over the table, who was watching him with a mixture of curiosity and confusion. “I’ll go up to the office and pretend I’m one of the swim team members’ boyfriends or something. Say I need to get inside because she left something behind. Easy, right?”

Langa’s eyebrows knotted together, a small furrow forming between them as he tilted his head, trying to wrap his mind around the plan. “Pretend to be someone’s boyfriend?” he repeats slowly, his voice laced with uncertainty. There was something almost comically serious about the way he said it, like he was trying to see if Reki had actually thought this through.

“Yeah! Piece of cake,” Reki replied with a light laugh, the sound carrying a note of playfulness. He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture, as if to brush off any lingering doubts. “We’ll be in and out before they even know what’s going on. Trust me.”

But Langa still hesitated, the corners of his mouth twitching downward as he glanced away, the barest hint of pink coloring his cheeks. “I’m a terrible actor,” he muttered quietly, the admission sounding almost vulnerable. His eyes flicked back to Reki, a silent plea for understanding shining in their depths. “You should do it… alone.”

Reki’s grin widened at that, but his gaze softened slightly, something warm and reassuring there. “Fine, fine. I’ll handle it,” he said gently, his voice dropping to a softer tone as if to ease Langa’s nerves.

-

Reki paused for a moment just before he opened the office door, throwing Langa a quick thumbs-up over his shoulder. The gesture was so casual, so Reki, that Langa can’t help but smile, the tension in his chest easing just a little.

The sports office was cool and brightly lit, the smell of chlorine and athletic tape lingering in the air. Reki took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders as he approached the front desk. A staff member, a woman with sharp eyes and an air of practiced efficiency, looked up from her paperwork. Her gaze landing on Reki, curious but guarded, and he could almost feel her assessing him, weighing whether or not he belongs here.

“Hi! Uh… I’m here because my girlfriend left something behind in the swim team locker room,” Reki began, leaning casually against the desk. He tried to keep his voice steady, his posture relaxed, even though his heart was hammering in his chest. He flashed the staff member what he hopes is a charming, easygoing smile—one that said
‘I know what I’m doing’
even though he really didn’t.

The staff member raised an eyebrow, her gaze sharpening as she studied him more closely. “Your girlfriend, huh?” she asked, the skepticism in her voice cutting through the air like a blade. She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back slightly in her chair as she regarded him. “And who might that be?”

For a split second, Reki’s mind went completely blank. Panic flared up, hot and intense, and he could feel his carefully crafted confidence start to slip. But then, his eyes darted around the office, searching desperately for something—anything—that can help him out of this mess. His gaze landed on a framed photo hanging on the wall behind the desk, a picture of the swim team members all lined up, their faces beaming with pride. Beneath each face is a neatly printed name.

Reki’s heart leaped. There it was. A lifeline.

“Uh… Aoi Mizuno,” he blurted out, the name tumbling off his tongue before he could second-guess himself. He forced himself to maintain eye contact, hoping against all odds that he picked the right name and that he doesn’t look as guilty as he feels.

The staff member’s eyes flicked to the photo, her expression unreadable as she took in the name and the face. The silence stretched on, thick and suffocating, and Reki could feel sweat starting to bead at his temples. But then, she nodded slowly, the corners of her mouth twitching downward in a thoughtful frown.

“Alright, Aoi… right. She’s on the team,” she muttered, almost to herself. She reached for a clipboard and flipped through the pages absentmindedly, still muttering under her breath. “Guess it’s fine. Go ahead, but be quick about it.”

Relief floods Reki’s entire body, making his knees feel weak. He flashed the staff member another smile—this one a little more genuine—and stepped through the door she buzzed open for him. But even as he walked inside, his heart still pounding in his ears, there was an odd sensation lingering in the pit of his stomach.

Something about saying the word “girlfriend” felt wrong, like it didn’t quite fit. It had been so strange, almost uncomfortable, as if the word was a foreign object that didn’t belong in his mouth.

The moment he said it, there had been a flicker of something—a knot of unease that twisted tighter and tighter, making it hard to breathe.

He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes immediately finding Langa’s silhouette through the small glass window in the door. Langa was standing there, shoulders tense, eyes focused on him with an intensity that makes Reki’s chest tighten. He gave Langa a subtle nod, signaling that it’s safe to come in.

Langa hesitated, before he finally slipped inside. His movements were quiet, careful, as if he was afraid to draw any attention to himself.

“Got in no problem,” Reki whispered, flashing Langa a quick grin. He tried to sound confident, but that weird discomfort was still there, lurking beneath the surface. He caught Langa’s gaze.

Langa’s lips quirked up in the faintest of smiles, his eyes softening as he murmured back, “Good job.”

It was a simple exchange, but it left Reki feeling strangely breathless. Why had pretending to have a girlfriend feel like the strangest thing he had ever done? It shouldn’t have been that big of a deal… so why did it feel like something inside him shifted, ever so slightly, when he said it?

…He ignored it.

They stepped into the pool area, and the contrast between the quiet halls and the echoing stillness of the massive indoor pool was striking. The air was thick with humidity, carrying the familiar scent of chlorine, and the sound of their footsteps bounced off the tiled walls. Sunlight filtered through the high windows, casting shimmering reflections on the water’s surface that rippled gently, almost hypnotically.

Reki and Langa exchanged glances, a shared excitement buzzing between them. They were actually inside. The pool, usually buzzing with the splash of practiced dives and determined laps, was now an expanse of serene blue, undisturbed and still.

“Okay,” Reki breathed out, his voice barely louder than a murmur, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the calm. “Let’s look around for the next hint.”

They moved quietly, Langa sticking close to Reki’s side as they scanned the area. The pool itself stretched out before them, and on either side, rows of bleachers stood empty and dark. Their footsteps echoed against the tiles, a rhythmic click and tap that seemed almost out of place in the silence.

It didn’t take long for their attention to shift to the locker rooms. “If there’s a clue, it’s probably in there,” Reki mused, pushing the door open cautiously.

The locker room was dimly lit, the overhead lights casting a dull, yellowish glow. Rows of lockers lined the walls, and the faint smell of disinfectant mingled with the lingering scent of chlorine. They started at one end, opening lockers at random—metal doors creaking softly in protest. Most of them were empty, only holding forgotten water bottles, stray towels, or the occasional pair of worn-out goggles.

“Nothing here,” Langa muttered, closing another empty locker with a soft clunk. “You think we’re in the right place?”

“Maybe… I dunno. Let’s keep looking a bit longer,” Reki said, though doubt edged his voice. He ran his hand over the cool metal of the lockers as they moved down the rows. There was a quietness in the space, almost eerie, and it made every small sound they made feel amplified. His fingers paused over a handle that felt a little different—looser. He glanced at Langa before pulling it open gently.

Inside, propped against the back of the locker, was a folded piece of paper. Reki’s heart leaped. “Hey, I think I found something.”

Langa stepped closer, peering over Reki’s shoulder as he pulled the paper out and unfolded it.

“‘Congratulations on making it this far,’” Reki read aloud, a grin tugging at his lips. “‘Your next task is a bit of a splash. Hidden somewhere in the pool area is a bucket of water balloons. Find it, and then film yourselves throwing a water balloon to each other—thirty consecutive times—without dropping it.’”

Langa’s eyebrows shot up. “Thirty times? Without dropping it? That’s… a lot.”

Reki let out a soft laugh, folding the paper back up. “Yeah, tell me about it. But it sounds like a lot of fun too, right?”

Langa’s smile was small but genuine as he nodded in agreement.

Their excitement reignited, they began scouring the area again, this time more carefully. They peered under bleachers, behind lifeguard chairs, and even around the edges of the pool itself. Reki’s eyes kept darting around, his mind running through possibilities. Where would someone hide a bucket in a place like this?

After several minutes of searching, Langa’s voice broke the silence. “Reki, over here.”

Reki jogged over to where Langa was crouched beside a row of stacked pool equipment. Hidden partially behind a large bin of kickboards was a bright red bucket, overflowing with water balloons of all colors. The water inside them glistened under the lights, the balloons wobbling slightly as if eager to be thrown.

“Yes!” Reki fist-pumped the air, unable to contain his grin. He reached into the bucket, pulling out a smooth, round blue balloon. “Okay, so… we just need to film ourselves tossing these back and forth, right? Easy peasy.”

Langa gave him a pointed look. “Without dropping it. Thirty times.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Reki waved him off with a laugh, but there was a mischievous spark in his eyes. “You ready?”

Langa propped his phone up against the wall, angling it to capture both of them before they both positioned themselves at opposite ends of the pool’s shallow end, the water between them glittering under the sunlight.

Reki held up the blue balloon, focusing on Langa’s steady gaze. He took a deep breath, then, with a soft underhand throw, sent it sailing gently through the air.

Langa reached out, hands moving with a smooth precision as he caught it effortlessly. “One,” he said softly, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

Reki’s grin widened. “That’s one. Twenty-nine more to go.”

They continued the rhythm, a steady back-and-forth that seemed almost too easy at first. The balloon arced gracefully through the air, reflecting the light in a delicate shimmer. Each throw was calculated, careful, but as the count rose higher, the tension subtly built between them. Reki’s grip would tighten just a little too much, his toss sending the balloon higher than intended. Langa would move quickly, hands darting up to catch it before it could escape his grasp.

“Sixteen… seventeen…” Langa’s voice remained calm, though Reki could see the focus sharpening in his eyes.

“Twenty-eight,” Reki murmured, his heart pounding with the thrill of it. He took a deep breath, tossing the balloon with the same care he’d been using all along.

Langa caught it with a soft grunt, his hands cupping it securely. He raised his gaze to Reki, a smile breaking across his face. “Twenty-nine.”

“Last one,” Reki whispered. He licked his lips, his fingers trembling slightly as he caught the balloon for the final time. With a steadying breath, he threw it, the arc perfect, the balloon soaring gently through the air—

Langa reached out, catching it with a sure, decisive motion. He held it up triumphantly. “Thirty!”

“Yes!” Reki whooped, throwing his arms up in celebration. “We did it!”

Langa ran up to the wall and ended the recording and grinned, his eyes sparkling. “Not bad for a couple of amateurs.” He said, looking down at his phone.

“Amateurs?” Reki scoffed, shaking his head as he slowly inched closer to the bucket unsuspectingly. “We nailed it. That was all skill, my friend.”

Reki glanced down at the remaining water balloons, a mischievous glint sparking in his eyes. His gaze darted over to Langa, who was now too focused on his phone screen, checking to make sure their recording had saved properly. The playful urge surged through him—an itch to do something reckless, something spontaneous, the kind of thing that always seemed to come so naturally when Langa was around.

Before he could second-guess himself, Reki grabbed a bright yellow water balloon from the bucket. The cool, squishy weight of it rested comfortably in his palm, a perfect invitation for mischief. With a quick flick of his wrist, he lobbed it at Langa’s side. But just as he released it, Langa shifted slightly, and the balloon sailed wide, missing him completely and splattering against the tile floor in a spectacular watery burst.

Langa’s head jerked up at the sound, his eyes widening in surprise before a loud, incredulous laugh burst out of him. The sound echoed off the walls, bright and carefree, and his expression shifted into one of disbelief mixed with pure delight. He let out a breathless yelp that reverberated around the room. “Reki!” he exclaimed, his voice pitching up in a way that sent a jolt through Reki’s chest. “What was that? Are you trying to start a water balloon fight or something?”

Reki’s grin stretched wider, his heart racing in anticipation. He shrugged nonchalantly, feigning innocence even though his face was practically glowing with amusement. “What, me? Nah. That was just a… warm-up throw.”

But Langa’s eyes had already narrowed with a familiar, competitive gleam, his stance shifting slightly as if he was preparing for a race. The smile that spread across his face was unlike any Reki had ever seen before—full and unrestrained, a grin so wide, happy and vibrant that it made Reki’s breath catch. It wasn’t just the typical quiet, reserved smile Langa often wore; this was something brighter, something wilder, something that made Reki’s chest tighten and his heart thrum erratically.

“You’re asking for it!” Langa’s voice was breathless, tinged with giddy excitement. He glanced down at the bucket of balloons as he walked closer, then back at Reki, a silent challenge blazing in his blue eyes.

Reki swallowed, excitement bubbling up inside him like a shaken bottle of soda. He could barely keep himself from laughing as he tossed another balloon up and caught it casually, pretending like his pulse wasn’t already thrumming with adrenaline. “Oh, I’m more than ready,” he shot back, taking a step backward as he prepared to bolt. “Let’s see what you’ve got!”

Langa’s expression shifted, the playful smile stretching even wider, and he scooped up two balloons in quick succession. “You’re going down, Reki!”

And just like that, chaos erupted.

Langa hurled one balloon, and Reki ducked to the side, the projectile bursting harmlessly against the bleachers in a satisfying splash. They took off running in opposite directions, laughter filling the pool area as they darted around like kids let loose on a playground. Reki sprinted behind the lifeguard chairs, ducking and weaving, launching balloons at Langa whenever he peeked out. Langa retaliated with surprising precision, his balloons landing dangerously close to where Reki stood, sending up sprays of water that soaked through Reki’s clothes.

Water splattered against the tiles, droplets clinging to their skin and clothes. Reki’s hair stuck to his forehead, damp and messy, and his sides ached from laughing so hard. Every time he tried to taunt Langa, his voice came out breathless and shaky, swallowed up by the sheer joy of it all. And Langa—Langa looked more alive than ever. His blue eyes were bright and sharp, his expression lit with fierce determination, the grin never leaving his face as he charged after Reki with relentless energy.

Reki zigzagged behind a column, clutching a balloon as he tried to catch his breath. He peeked around the corner, just in time to see Langa creeping up on him. The sight of that wide grin, framed by flushed cheeks and strands of wet hair, sent a thrill rushing through Reki’s veins.

“Gotcha!” Langa crowed, winding his arm back.

“Oh, shit—!” Reki yelped, throwing his own balloon just as Langa released his. Both balloons missed by inches, splashing against the tiles in twin explosions of water. Reki let out a breathless laugh, his chest heaving, heart pounding with exhilaration. “Alright, alright, truce for a sec!”

Langa paused, panting, a laugh spilling from his lips despite himself. “You started it,” he teased, but he dropped his arm, eyes still dancing with that competitive fire.

They were both soaked through, their clothes sticking to their skin, water dripping off their hair and arms, but neither of them seemed to care. Reki took a step forward, still chuckling, his breath coming out in short gasps. “Okay, I’ll admit, you’ve got pretty good aim for a snowboarder.”

“And you’re a terrible shot,” Langa shot back lightly, and Reki couldn’t help but grin at the teasing lilt in his tone.

But before Reki could think of a comeback, a new voice cut through their laughter—a sharp, commanding voice that made both of them freeze.

“What is going on in here?!”

Reki’s head snapped up, his stomach plummeting. The staff member from the sports office was standing in the doorway, her face a mask of barely-contained fury. Her gaze darted around the room, taking in the puddles of water, the drenched boys, and the now nearly empty bucket of balloons. She looked like she was one wrong word away from dragging them both out by their ears.

“Are you serious right now?” she barked, voice rising with each syllable. “I let you in here, and this is what you do? I should have known that ‘girlfriend’ excusea lie. You lied to me, wasted my time, and now look at this mess!”

Reki glanced at Langa, the pulse of adrenaline still buzzing under his skin. His breath hitched with the urge to laugh again, even though he knew this wasn’t the time. But seeing Langa’s flushed cheeks, his chest rising and falling with exertion, his hair plastered to his forehead—he couldn’t help it. A breathless, sheepish laugh escaped him, and he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Uh… yeah, we might’ve gotten a little carried away—”

“A little?!” she snapped, her voice practically shaking with outrage. “This is completely unacceptable! You—”

But Reki didn’t stick around to hear the rest. His gaze landed on a nearby emergency exit door, the bright red EXIT sign glowing like a beacon of hope. He shot Langa a look, and without missing a beat, he grabbed Langa’s hand and bolted toward it. “Come on!” he shouted, already tugging Langa along.

“Wait—what are you—Reki!” Langa’s protest was drowned out by the wail of the alarm as Reki shoved the door open. They burst through it, the cool air hitting them like a slap to the face. The staff member’s furious shouts echoed behind them, but they didn’t stop. They tore through the courtyard outside, feet pounding against the pavement, laughter and exhilaration mingling in the cool breeze.

“Get back here! Hey—stop right there!”

But Reki didn’t look back. He kept running, Langa’s hand still clasped tightly in his, his heart hammering in his chest. They sprinted across the campus, ducking around corners, weaving through pathways, and finally—finally—they slowed down, stumbling to a breathless stop in one of the university’s gardens.

The green of the grass and the bright colors of the flower beds surrounded them, the scent of wet earth and fresh leaves filling the air. The garden was quiet, a peaceful haven compared to the chaos they’d just left behind.

Reki doubled over, hands on his knees as he sucked in air. Langa leaned against a nearby tree, his chest heaving, face flushed and eyes sparkling with mirth. They were both drenched, their clothes dripping water onto the grass, but the wide smiles on their faces never faltered.

“You—you opened an emergency door, Reki!” Langa managed between breaths, a laugh escaping his lips despite himself. He shook his head, disbelief and amusement warring in his expression. “We could get in so much trouble for that.”

Reki looked up, still breathing hard, his grin as wide as ever. “Well, it was an emergency, wasn’t it?”

Langa blinked at him, and then a laugh broke free—bright and full, echoing through the quiet garden. Reki’s chest tightened again, that familiar warmth blooming deep inside him as he watched Langa’s face light up with genuine, unbridled joy.

“Yeah,” Langa said through his laughter, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe what they’d just done. “I guess it kinda was.”

Reki chuckled, dropping down onto the grass and stretching out his legs, feeling the cool breeze brush against his wet skin. He glanced up at Langa, who had finally stopped laughing, though the smile lingered in his eyes.

“Totally worth it,” Reki murmured, a sense of contentment settling over him like a warm blanket.

“Totally worth it.”

Chapter Text

The gentle hum of campus life buzzed around Reki as he strolled through the university grounds toward the gym. The faint murmur of voices, distant birds chirping, and the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze provided a calming soundtrack, though it did little to soothe the exhaustion dragging at his eyelids. He stifled a yawn, raising a hand to cover his mouth in an attempt to conceal just how worn out he felt. Last night had been one of those restless nights where sleep seemed elusive, no matter how many times he tossed and turned. His mind had been racing, he wasn’t sure exactly what was keeping him awake, but combined with Miya staying up late typing furiously on his laptop, coding some enigmatic project that Reki didn’t understand—it was a recipe for insomnia.

Bringing his arm down, Reki fished his phone from his pocket, the cool surface familiar against his fingers. He unlocked the screen, and the digital clock read 11:56 AM. He tapped into his messages app, Langa’s picture greeting him at the top of the conversation thread. The latest text, sent at 10:30 AM, read:
‘Hi Reki, I’m heading to the gym for the morning, so you could meet me there when I’m done, and we can do the hint for today? Only if it suits you. I should be done by 12.’
Reki had been quick to reply when he woke up, a flutter of excitement bubbling in his chest at seeing Langa’s name on his screen.
"Hey man! For sure, 12 PM sounds great! Go get those gains, dude."

The thought of Langa working out had never occurred to him before, but now that he thought about it, it made perfect sense. Of course, Langa went to the gym—he always seemed effortlessly fit, like the kind of guy who didn’t have to try too hard but still managed to stay in shape.
As Reki reached the gym, he pushed open the heavy glass doors, instantly hit by the pungent mix of sweat, metal, and cleaning solution. The strong, sterile smell of disinfectant clashed with the underlying scent of worn equipment, and he wrinkled his nose. The music blasting from the overhead speakers was a remixed pop song, upbeat and full of energy, blending with the clatter of weights hitting the floor and the rhythmic pounding of feet on treadmills. Reki took a moment to glance around, immediately feeling out of place.
The gym was packed, mostly with people his age—but not his kind of people. Everyone seemed sculpted, toned, and intimidating. They had that self-assured swagger, the kind that only came with hours of dedication to weightlifting and personal fitness. Even the way they casually drank from their water bottles or wiped sweat from their brows had a certain confidence that Reki couldn’t relate to. He glanced down at his own hoodie and jeans, suddenly feeling extremely out of place, reminded of why he never stepped foot in a gym.

Spotting a small, unoccupied bench near the entrance, Reki made his way over and sat down. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his fingers tapping lightly against his knee as he glanced at the time on his phone again. 12:00 PM. Langa had said he’d be done by now, but there was no sign of him. Reki leaned back, scanning the room, unsure how long he’d have to wait. He’d only been inside for a minute, but he already wanted to bolt for the exit.
As his eyes wandered over the sea of gym-goers, his attention suddenly snagged on a flash of familiar blue hair. His chest eased slightly in relief. There, all the way across the gym, was Langa, finishing up his workout on one of the treadmills. Reki watched as the machine gradually slowed, Langa’s jog reducing to a brisk walk.
And... wow. Now that he was actually looking, it really did make sense that Langa went to the gym. The way his black shirt hugged his torso, highlighting the broadness of his shoulders and the slight taper of his waist, stood out against the crowd. His cheeks were flushed pink, probably from exertion, and beads of sweat glistened on his forehead. Reki couldn’t help but be impressed. Langa didn’t just look fit—he looked good.

Reki’s chest tightened unexpectedly as he observed Langa more closely. The way he moved with ease on the treadmill, the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed deeply, the way his damp hair clung to his forehead—something about it made Reki pause. His gaze lingered, eyes tracing the way the fabric of Langa’s shirt clung to him, revealing the muscles beneath. When Langa reached for his water bottle, tipping it back to take a long drink, Reki swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how dry his mouth felt.
And then, without thinking, Langa grabbed the hem of his shirt and lifted it to wipe the sweat from his face, revealing a glimpse of his toned, lean waist.
Reki’s breath hitched in his throat, his heart suddenly hammering faster than it should have been. He immediately averted his gaze, cheeks burning with embarrassment. What the hell was he doing?
No. This wasn’t like that.
He wasn’t checking him out.
He was just…admiring.
That’s all it was.
Just appreciating his friend.

‘Yeah, totally normal,’ he thought, forcing himself to look away from where Langa had disappeared into the locker room, a towel slung casually over his shoulder.
Reki leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes for a moment to wait.

Totally platonic.

-

“Hey Reki.”

The voice cut through Reki’s thoughts, pulling him back to the present. He blinked, lifting his head to see Langa standing in front of him, freshly showered. His usually neat hair was still damp, strands clinging to his forehead, and the plain white T-shirt he’d changed into contrasted sharply with the gym atmosphere. For a moment, Reki couldn’t respond, his gaze lingering on the way the shirt hugged Langa’s chest and arms. He quickly shook off the thought, feeling a warmth spread across his cheeks.
“Oh hey, man!” Reki jumped to his feet, forcing an easy grin onto his face as if he hadn’t just been staring. “How was your workout? I saw you on the treadmill earlier. Looked like you knew what you were doing!”

Langa blinked, his brow furrowing in mild surprise. “You saw me?”
Reki nodded, “Yeah! Only for a minute, though,” he replied, following Langa as he pushed open the glass doors of the gym. “But you looked totally focused, man. You were in the zone.” As soon as they stepped outside, a refreshing gust of wind hit them, making Reki realise just how stifling it had been inside the gym. The cool air was a welcome relief, and Reki took in a deep breath, savouring it. Langa smiled, but there was something almost shy in the way his lips curved upward, like he wasn’t used to being complimented for things like working out.

“…I wouldn’t say I know what I’m doing,” Langa admitted quietly, his eyes cast downward as they began to walk down the campus path. The sun peeked through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the concrete. “But going to the gym helps clear my head. I don’t really think about anything when I’m there. It’s kind of… calming. I just put on my headphones and forget about the rest of the world.”
Reki nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, I get that. It’s the same with painting for me. Once I start, everything else just fades away. I get so into it, I forget to eat, sleep… maybe even breathe sometimes,” he added with a laugh, though the sentiment was true. He remembered countless nights where the hours flew by in a haze of colour and brush strokes, his mind completely absorbed. Langa chuckled softly at that, and Reki found himself drawn to the sound. There was something so effortless in the way Langa laughed, so genuine, but before he could dwell on it, Langa reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone.

“So, I checked the new hint this morning,” Langa said, his sneakers making soft, rhythmic scuffs against the ground as they walked. He glanced at the screen, his pale blue eyes focused. “It mentioned something about food and trays. I think it’s in the cafeteria.”
Reki’s stomach gave an involuntary growl at the mention of food, and he let out a sheepish laugh, hoping Langa hadn’t heard it. “The cafeteria, huh? Well, at least we don’t have to run around campus like all the last times.”

They continued down the path, the easy banter between them flowing naturally. Their conversation drifted from classes to random jokes, both of them laughing at the ridiculousness of their scavenger hunt misadventures, especially what happened yesterday at the pool. Yet, despite the lightheartedness, Reki couldn’t help but notice the occasional glances Langa was giving him—the way his eyes would flick toward him, lingering just a second too long before he quickly looked away.

Was Reki imagining it?

They eventually reached the cafeteria soon enough, the wide space surprisingly quiet for a Sunday afternoon. A few students sat scattered at tables, some eating, others buried in their laptops. The clinking of utensils and the hum of soft chatter filled the room. Reki’s eyes scanned the area, searching for something out of place, something that might give them their next clue.

“There,” Langa said, his voice calm but confident as he pointed toward a stack of plastic trays near the corner. And beside them, a neat pile of plastic cups.
Bingo.
Reki’s excitement spiked as they walked over. “That’s definitely it!” he said, grabbing the small folded piece of paper that was tucked between the trays. He quickly unfolded it and read the instructions aloud: “Stack the plastic cups as high as you can without them falling. Take a picture next to the tower as proof.”
Langa raised an eyebrow. “Seems simple enough.”
“Yeah, well, let’s see how simple it is when we’re actually doing it,” Reki muttered with a grin, grabbing a few cups from the pile. He handed some to Langa, who looked at them as if weighing their precarious future in his hands.

They set to work, stacking the cups carefully on an empty table, one on top of the other. It started easy enough, the first few cups balancing perfectly in place. But as they climbed higher, the tower began to sway slightly, wobbling with each new addition.
Reki held his breath as Langa placed the eighth cup. The tower leaned, threatening to topple, and Reki instinctively reached out his hands, hovering just beside the stack as if he could catch it with his willpower alone.
“I think we’ve got it,” Langa said softly, his voice low and focused.
But just as he finished speaking, the tower swayed one more time—and collapsed. The cups scattered across the table, a few falling to the floor with a loud clatter.
“Ah, come on!” Reki groaned, though laughter bubbled up in his chest. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he bent down to gather the fallen cups. Langa, on the other hand, was eyeing the room warily.

A few students had started to take notice of them, their gazes filled with a mix of curiosity and confusion. Some whispered to each other, while others simply watched in silence, unsure of what to make of the duo building towers out of cups. Langa’s discomfort was clear, the way his posture stiffened and his eyes kept darting around.
“People are staring,” Langa murmured, his voice tight with unease.
Reki waved a dismissive hand, stacking the cups back up. “Don’t worry about it. They’re just curious, probably wondering what we’re doing. We’ll be done soon anyway.”
Langa didn’t look convinced, but he nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line as he handed Reki another cup.
They made a few more attempts, each one ending in failure. The cups would wobble and fall, and each time they would burst out into laughter, their frustration quickly turning into a shared sense of amusement.

“You know,” Reki teased, narrowing his eyes playfully at Langa, “I think you’re the reason it keeps falling.”
Langa smirked, shaking his head. “Pretty sure it’s your shaky hands.”
Reki barked out a laugh, his heart feeling lighter despite the attention they were drawing. There was something fun about this, something that made him forget about everything else—the eyes on them, the hint of discomfort, even the fact that they were in the middle of a campus cafeteria.

But then it happened again.

As Reki reached for another cup, he felt Langa’s gaze on him, just a little too long, lingering in a way that made his heart skip a beat. He glanced up, catching Langa’s eyes for a split second before Langa quickly looked away, his cheeks slightly flushed from the effort—or maybe something else.
Reki swallowed, his thoughts racing.
‘It was nothing,’ he told himself.
‘Just friends.’
‘Friends glance at each other.’
‘Friends laugh together.’
‘Friends admire each other…right?’
It was fine.

After a few more attempts—and a lot more laughter—they finally managed to build a stable tower. Holding firm. Reki let out a triumphant yell, pulling out his phone to snap a picture.
“Come on,” he said, nudging Langa with his elbow. “We need proof. Get in the shot with me.”
Langa hesitated for a second but then stepped closer, standing beside Reki as they both posed next to their towering achievement. Reki held up a peace sign, grinning widely at the camera, while Langa smiled softly, his face still flushed from the workout.

-

The campus seemed quieter then usual as they stepped out of the cafeteria, the warm afternoon sun casting long shadows across the paths. Reki had been riding the high of their scavenger hunt success, his thoughts already racing ahead to what the tomorrows final hint might be, but just as he opened his mouth to say something, he noticed Langa had slowed down beside him.
He was looking at his phone, his expression changing ever so slightly as he stared at the screen. His face, usually so calm, seemed to shift into something more serious. Reki, caught up in the moment, hadn’t expected the sudden change in energy.
“Hey, uh…” Langa’s voice cut through the comfortable silence, softer than before. He glanced up from his phone, looking apologetic. “I just remembered… I’ve got something I need to take care of this afternoon.”

Reki blinked, momentarily taken aback. “Oh?” He hadn’t expected their day to end so soon. His heart sank a little, but he tried to keep his tone light.
“Uh, that’s cool. I mean, we’re going to see each other tomorrow for the final hint anyways!”
Langa nodded, his mouth pulling into a quick, apologetic smile.
“Yeah that’s true. But I’m really sorry for cutting our hangout short. I guess I didn’t realise the time.” He hesitated, then added quickly, “But tomorrow, for sure! I’m excited Reki”

Reki found himself nodding eagerly in agreement even though something about the way Langa’s change in mood felt off. Still, they had only been friends for barely a week, so it wasn’t like he had any right to ask questions. If Langa had somewhere to be, he had somewhere to be. “Yeah, no worries,” he said with a half-smile, hoping it sounded more casual than he felt. “Tomorrow for sure.”
Langa’s blue eyes softened with a sense of relief, and he smiled more fully this time. “Thanks. I’ll text you later about the time.”
With that, Langa gave a small wave, turning on his heel and heading off in the opposite direction.

Reki stood there for a moment, watching him go, the breeze ruffling the back of his hair as Langa walked further down the path. Reki wanted to call out and ask if everything was okay, but something stopped him. It felt too soon to pry. They weren’t that close yet, were they?
Once Langa disappeared around the corner of one of the campus buildings, Reki let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. The air felt heavier somehow, the weight of the unfinished conversation sitting uneasily in his chest. He stuffed his hands in his hoodie pockets, trying to shake off the strange feeling that had settled over him.

“Guess that’s that,” he muttered to himself, his voice sounding oddly hollow in the quiet.
Turning back toward his dorm building, Reki’s steps were slower than before. The scavenger hunt, which had seemed so exciting only moments ago, now felt incomplete, like a thread left dangling. He tried to focus on the fact that they’d get to do the last hint tomorrow, that everything was fine, but the way Langa had seemed suddenly so quiet still bothered him.
Maybe Reki was just overthinking it.
He did that often.

As he made his way across campus, the familiar sounds of university life continued around him—the chatter of students, the rustling of leaves in the breeze, the distant clatter of someone riding by on a skateboard. Normally, Reki would’ve been in a better mood, soaking in the peaceful atmosphere, but today, it felt… different. He couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something was off.
When he finally reached his dorm building, the sun was still high in the afternoon sky, casting a warm golden light over everything. Reki climbed the steps slowly, already feeling the weight of the day starting to press down on him.

As he entered the building and made his way up to the third floor, he half-expected to hear Miya’s usual sarcastic commentary when he opened the door to his room, but when he stepped inside, the dorm was unusually quiet.
Miya wasn’t there. His laptop wasn’t on, no sound of rapid typing, and his bag was gone from its usual spot by the desk. Reki sighed, feeling a strange sense of emptiness settle in the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t that he minded being alone, but after the weirdness of the day so far, the silence felt more pronounced than usual.
He dropped his backpack onto the floor and flopped onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling. His mind, which had been racing all day, now felt oddly still, the events swirling in the back of his thoughts. Langa leaving so suddenly… it didn’t sit right with him. But what could he do? He didn’t want to be that friend—the one who pushed for answers when they weren’t offered.

Reki reached for his phone, unlocking it to check the time. 1:48pm. He scrolled through his messages, pausing when he saw Langa’s text from earlier that morning.

‘Hi Reki, I’m heading to the gym for the morning so you could meet me there when I’m done so we can do the hint for today? Only if it suits you. I should be done by 12.’

He smiled faintly at the memory of how eager he’d been when he’d first read that text, excited to hang out with Langa again. It felt natural, easy. Reki let out a soft sigh, dropping the phone back onto the bed beside him. He thought about sending Langa a message, asking if everything was alright, but something held him back. Maybe Langa just needed some space.

Maybe it really was nothing.

-

For the rest of the day, unsure of what else to do after Langa’s sudden departure, Reki decided to retreat to the place that made the most sense—his sanctuary, the university’s art studio. The confusion of the afternoon still weighed on his chest, like an invisible pressure that was hard to shake. There was something about the art studio, though, that always soothed him. The faint scent of acrylic paints mixed with the earthy smell of wooden easels, the soft scratching of charcoal on paper, the occasional clink of paintbrushes being dropped into jars of water—it all created an atmosphere that Reki found calming.
As he walked into the studio, the late afternoon light was filtering through the tall windows, casting long shadows on the concrete floor. The golden hue of the sun gave the room a soft, warm glow, turning the scattered art supplies and unfinished pieces into something almost magical. A few other students were there, quietly working on their projects, their heads bowed in concentration. The low hum of focus in the room immediately helped Reki settle. He exhaled slowly, feeling the tension ease from his shoulders.

He made his way over to his usual spot by the window, a large wooden desk covered in paint splatters and cluttered with his art supplies. His current project, a chaotic cityscape he had been pouring his energy into, sat on the easel. The canvas was full of wild strokes, bright colours clashing together, and jagged lines that made the entire piece feel like it was in motion, alive with restless energy. In the centre of the piece stood a lone figure, a person facing away from the viewer, their hands tightly clamped over their ears as if trying to block out the madness around them. The figure was small compared to the towering, chaotic city surrounding them, and the contrast was striking.

Reki sat down on the worn stool, staring at the canvas. His fingers instinctively reached for his brush, but for a moment, he hesitated. Something about the figure—about the way they were so overwhelmed by the city, by their own thoughts—felt all too familiar. He wasn’t just painting a random scene; he was painting how he felt, how he had been feeling for a while now. Like the noise around him, the pressure of everything, was becoming too much.
He leaned back for a second, running a hand through his messy red hair. The studio was quiet enough that he could hear the faint tap of someone’s pencil against paper, a subtle soundtrack to the focused atmosphere. As Reki picked up his brush and moved to add more depth to the shadows beneath the figure’s feet, he suddenly heard a voice break the silence behind him.

"Hey, that’s looking really good," a calm, low voice said.
Reki jumped a little, not having expected anyone to speak to him. He quickly glanced over his shoulder, finding Hiro, an upperclassman he vaguely recognised from other studio sessions. Hiro had the kind of presence that seemed effortless—he always looked relaxed, with his black hair slightly tousled and an easygoing expression that made him seem like nothing in the world could bother him. Reki had seen him working on intricate, detailed pieces before, but they had never really spoken much beyond casual greetings.
"Oh, hey!" Reki replied, a little startled. He put his brush down, smiling awkwardly. "Didn’t hear you come up."
Hiro smiled back, his eyes scanning the painting. "Yeah, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. I just saw what you were working on and thought it looked awesome. Really dynamic. The energy of the city is insane."
Reki felt a faint warmth in his cheeks at the compliment. "Thanks... I’ve been working on it for a while. Still trying to figure it out, though."
Hiro looked genuinely interested as he leaned in closer, examining the various canvases Reki had laid out on the desk. His gaze shifted between the cityscapes, all variations of the same theme, but with subtle differences. In one, the figure’s back was completely turned, and in another, they had slightly turned around, revealing more of their face but still shielding themselves from the chaos.

"The way the figure is slowly turning around in each one… that’s really cool," Hiro said, his tone thoughtful. "It’s like they’re trying to face something they’re afraid of, but they’re still stuck in the middle of it. It’s pretty powerful."
Reki glanced at his own work, surprised by how easily Hiro seemed to understand what he was going for. He had never really put it into words, but hearing someone else describe it made him realise that the painting really did reflect his own feelings—his own internal chaos.
"Yeah, that’s kind of the idea," Reki admitted, a little sheepishly. "Like, everything’s just… loud, you know? And they can’t get away from it, even though they want to."
Hiro nodded, clearly impressed. "That’s deep, man. I can really feel the tension in the piece. The way the city’s almost coming out of their mind—it’s like they’re both creating it and being crushed by it at the same time."

Reki blinked, feeling a strange mix of pride and vulnerability. It wasn’t often that someone else saw so clearly into his work, and it felt both validating and slightly unnerving. "Thanks," he said, his voice a little quieter. "It’s kind of personal, I guess."
Hiro’s expression softened, and he tilted his head toward an empty stool nearby. "Mind if I sit with you for a bit? I need to work on my project, but I like this vibe you’ve got going. Feels good to be around someone who's putting in the same effort."
Reki perked up at the offer, feeling a little less isolated now. "Yeah, of course! I’d be happy to have some company."
Hiro pulled up the stool and set his sketchpad down on the desk next to Reki’s canvases. As he settled in, pulling out a couple of pencils and brushes, Reki felt a small wave of relief. He hadn’t realised how much he had missed working alongside someone. It was comforting in a way—having Hiro nearby, quietly sketching while they shared the same creative space.

For a while, they worked in companionable silence, the soft sounds of Hiro’s pencil scratching across the paper blending with the rhythmic strokes of Reki’s brush. Every now and then, Hiro would glance over at Reki’s painting, offering small, thoughtful comments that made Reki think about his choices more carefully.
"You’ve got a lot of movement in your strokes," Hiro said at one point, watching as Reki added more vibrant streaks to the sky above the cityscape. "It feels like the whole city is alive, like it’s breathing."
Reki smiled, pleased with the observation. "That’s what I was going for. I wanted it to feel overwhelming, like the city’s almost too much to handle."
"You definitely nailed that," Hiro replied, his eyes flicking back to his own work.
As they continued working, the conversation between them flowed easily, drifting from art techniques to random topics. Hiro talked about some of the projects he was working on—mostly highly detailed portraits that focused on capturing emotion in the smallest details. Reki found himself genuinely enjoying the conversation, feeling a connection through their shared passion for art.

"I can’t believe I haven’t worked beside you before," Reki admitted after a while, glancing at Hiro. "This is actually really cool. It’s nice to have someone to talk to while working."
Hiro chuckled, his smile easy and warm. "Same. I usually work alone, but this is a nice change. You’ve got good energy, man. It’s refreshing."
Reki felt a sense of contentment settle over him. Despite the odd start to the day and the lingering confusion about Langa, being here, in the studio, creating something and sharing that space with someone else, felt right. It was a moment of calm amidst the noise.

As the clock edged toward 5 p.m., the golden light of the late afternoon began its graceful descent into the soft, mellow hues of early evening. The sunlight streaming through the studio windows had taken on a quieter tone, casting a peaceful, almost ethereal glow that enveloped the space. Only a handful of students remained at their workstations, absorbed in their projects, while Reki stood at his easel, deeply engrossed in his own creative journey.
His painting had transformed remarkably, the chaotic cityscape evolving into a more intricate and vibrant representation. Each brushstroke seemed to pulsate with energy, capturing the essence of urban life in a way that felt alive. In the centre of the canvas, a figure had taken shape, slightly turned away. The shadows obscured his face, yet the tension in his body was unmistakable, his hands gripping his ears as if trying to drown out an unseen torment.

Reki stepped back, wiping the back of his hand across his brow, taking a moment to survey the progress he had made. A wave of pride surged through him; the piece was really coming together. He envisioned his upcoming art class and imagined the look of surprise and approval on his professor’s face. Reki had poured so much of himself into this work, striving to prove that he was more than just another student lost in the crowd. He needed his teacher to see the passion and dedication behind every stroke, every colour choice.
"Looking good, man," Hiro’s voice broke through Reki's thoughts, pulling him back to the present. Reki turned to Hiro, feeling a touch of bashfulness creep into his expression. "Thanks, Hiro. I’m really pleased with how it’s shaping up. I think the Professor’s gonna like it—he can be kind of hard to impress sometimes."
Hiro glanced over at Reki’s canvas once more, his expression shifting to one of genuine admiration. "If he doesn’t appreciate this, then he’s missing out. It’s powerful shit. I think he’ll be impressed for sure."

Reki’s smile widened, fuelled by Hiro’s encouragement. He began to gather his supplies, cleaning his brushes and wiping down his palette. As he packed away his materials, he noticed with a slight frown that some of his favourite paint colours were running dangerously low. The vibrant blues and fiery reds that had been the backbone of his recent work were nearly empty, and he knew his stash back in the dorm wasn’t much better. A soft sigh escaped him as the reality of needing to restock settled in.
"Ugh, I’m running low on paints again," Reki muttered as he tucked the tubes into his bag. "I really need to win this scavenger hunt with my friend. The prize would be perfect for getting new supplies y’know?” He chuckled lightly. Hiro raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Scavenger hunt? What scavenger hunt are you talking about?"
"Oh, right," Reki replied, straightening up as he zipped his bag. "There’s this big scavenger hunt happening at the university. It’s an annual event with all these random challenges. Langa and I teamed up for it, and we’re actually pretty close to finishing. The winners get a prize of essentials related to their major and I’m really counting on that to get new art supplies. I’ve been scraping by with what I have for too long."

Hiro’s interest visibly deepened, and he tilted his head slightly, intrigued. "That sounds pretty cool. So, you and this Langa guy are partners?"
"Yeah," Reki said, a small smile breaking across his face at the thought of Langa. "We’ve only been friends for about a week, but he’s a great guy—quiet, but really smart and focused. It’s been fun hanging out with him."
Hiro chuckled softly, the sound warm and genuine. "Sounds like you two are hitting it off. I’ve heard about that scavenger hunt before—never participated myself, but I’ve seen others do it. It can get pretty competitive, can’t it?"
"Yeah, it can," Reki agreed, recalling the intensity of some of the challenges. "But it’s all in good fun. Plus, the tasks are super random. Like today, we had to stack cups in the cafeteria. People were staring at us like we were crazy."

Hiro laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. "I can only imagine. But hey, it sounds like a blast. You’ll have to keep me posted on how it goes—maybe I’ll join in next year."
"Definitely," Reki said, feeling a genuine pleasure at Hiro’s interest. He sensed a growing connection between them, a camaraderie that felt effortless and natural.
As Reki finished packing up, Hiro stood as well, slipping his sketchpad into his bag. He glanced at Reki, a thoughtful look on his face. "You know, we should hang out more. Especially in class. I feel like we’ve got a good vibe going, and it’s been fun working beside you today."
Reki’s face lit up with enthusiasm. "Yeah, I’d love that! It’s been great working with you too. Sometimes it feels like everyone’s in their own world, but it’s nice to share the space with someone."
Hiro smiled, his laid-back demeanor steady and welcoming. "Awesome. Let’s make it happen! I’m always down to work on art, so just hit me up whenever, here put your number in my phone.“
Reki nodded, warmth flooding through him as he took the phone from Hiro and punched in his number.

It had been a strange day, but it was ending on a high note. Not only had he made significant progress on his project, but he had also forged a new friendship. As he slung his bag over his shoulder and waved goodbye to Hiro, Reki felt lighter.
As he left the studio, the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the campus. Reki couldn’t help but smile to himself. He had found another reason to look forward to class, and with his project nearing completion, he felt he was one step closer to proving his worth—not just to his teacher, but to himself as well.

-

By 7:30 p.m., Reki found himself in the vibrant gaming lounge of his dorm building, a lively hub buzzing with energy and colour. The walls were adorned with an array of neon posters, each one competing for attention with its bold graphics and vibrant hues. The plush red couches and sofas provided a cozy respite from the bustle, their inviting cushions perfectly contoured for long hours of lounging. A massive chalkboard wall stretched across one side of the room, covered in colourful doodles, game strategies, and the occasional artistic masterpiece—evidence of the creative spirit that thrived within the dorm building.

Various groups filled the lounge, each corner alive with animated chatter and laughter. Some students were deeply immersed in intense video game battles, their concentration palpable as fingers flew over controllers. Others were huddled around tables, discussing strategies or sharing in the latest gaming news. The sound of buttons clicking and cheerful banter created a warm, inviting atmosphere, making it the perfect backdrop for Reki and his roommate Miya.
Reki had successfully dragged Miya out of their shared dorm room, much to his initial reluctance. Now, Miya sat beside him, his eyes glued to the laptop screen as he scrolled through videos. Reki, equally absorbed in his phone, occasionally shared funny tweets or amusing clips with him. Every time he did, Miya shot back with a sarcastic remark that made Reki chuckle. “Wow, Reki, your sense of humor is as fresh as last week’s leftovers,” Miya quipped.

“Hey, that video was funny!” Reki retorted, unable to suppress a grin as he tossed his head back in laughter. The easy camaraderie between them wrapped around Reki like a warm blanket, adding to the cozy ambiance of the lounge.
As they settled into this rhythm of shared laughter and friendly vibes, the atmosphere shifted slightly. The door to the lounge suddenly creaked open, breaking through the sounds of gaming and chatter. Reki looked up and caught sight of Langa standing hesitantly at the entrance, his wide eyes darting around the room as if he were evaluating the scene. There was a certain vulnerability in Langa’s demeanor, a mix of curiosity and nervousness that made Reki’s heart skip a beat.
Without thinking, Reki shot to his feet, excitement bubbling inside him.
“Langa!” he exclaimed, his voice cutting through the ambient noise of the lounge, pure enthusiasm infusing his tone. He dashed across the room, nearly startling Miya in the process.
“Whoa, chill!” Miya exclaimed, but unable to suppress a smirk as Reki hurried past him.

Reki reached Langa, a broad grin lighting up his face. “Come sit with us!” he invited, gesturing eagerly to the spot beside Miya. Langa followed Reki’s arm where he was pointing and smiled, “hey Reki, yeah sure.” And they both made their way to the sofa.

“This is Miya,” Reki introduced, his voice brimming with enthusiasm, as if he were introducing a celebrity.
Miya looked up, raising an eyebrow with feigned seriousness. “So, you’re the one who’s got Reki all flustered,” he remarked, a mischievous glint in his eye that only added to Reki’s embarrassment.
Reki felt a warm flush creep up his neck, his cheeks warming as he quickly turned to Langa. “Ignore him,” he urged, waving off the comment with a dismissive hand, hoping to shift the focus back to Langa.
Langa chuckled softly, his smile brightening the room. “Got it. Nice to meet you, Miya,” he replied, his voice steady but laced with a hint of shyness.
“Back at ya,” Miya shot back, a grin spreading across his face. He quickly returned to his laptop, though not before casting a sly glance at Reki that suggested he was savouring the moment far too much.

Once Langa settled into the sofa beside Reki, he seemed to relax, his posture shifting from tense to casual as they began chatting.
“Sorry for leaving earlier toady,” Langa said, running a hand through his tousled hair, a gesture that was both endearing and slightly awkward. His cheeks were still slightly flushed, perhaps from the earlier attention. Reki had learned that Langa didn’t like a lot of attention.
“My mom messaged me out of the blue. She was able to video call, and since I don’t get to talk to her often because of her work schedule, I had to go.”

Reki nodded, his expression softening with understanding. “It’s all good man! I’m just glad it wasn’t anything bad,” he replied, relief flooding through him. Now he knew that he was just overthinking it.
Classic Reki.
The conversation flowed easily between them as they joked and chatted, the two of them creating a warm bubble of laughter and connection as Miya would pipe in a comment every now and then also. Langa’s laughter was infectious, and Reki found himself reveling in the comfort of their companionship. They exchanged amusing anecdotes about their day, with Miya chiming in with sarcastic asides that kept the atmosphere light and engaging. The clock inched closer to 9:15 p.m., and Reki felt a bittersweet twinge at the thought of the evening ending.

As Langa stretched, a yawn escaping his lips, he glanced around the lounge, taking in the chaotic yet welcoming atmosphere.
“I should probably head back and get ready for bed,” he said, looking between Reki and Miya. “I’m excited for tomorrow’s hint with you, Reki.”
Miya’s smirk widened at this, a knowing look dancing in his eyes, but he held his tongue, letting the moment linger in the air. Reki felt a thrill at Langa’s words, a flutter of excitement unfurling in his chest.
“Yeah, me too!” he replied enthusiastically, getting up from the sofa to walk Langa to the door.

Langa stepped outside of the room, Reki holding the door open briefly for him.
“Have a good sleep!” Reki exclaimed.
As Langa paused at the entrance, he turned to face Reki, his gaze lingering for a moment longer than necessary. Reki’s heart gave a lurch, confusion and exhilaration swirling within him as Langa slowly nodded and stared, almost like he was studying Reki’s face until he quietly said “you too,” before walking away, leaving Reki standing in the doorway.

What the hell had that look meant?
What was Langa thinking? Staring at him like that.

It made Reki’s cheeks burn up yet again as he shook his head frantically, trying to dispel the thoughts, but they clung to him stubbornly, refusing to fade away.

Returning to the couch, Reki sank back down beside Miya, who immediately raised his eyebrows in a teasing manner, clearly having noticed the exchanged look.
“So, what was that about?” Miya asked, a smirk still playing at his lips.
Reki rolled his eyes, attempting to brush off the moment. “Shut up, man! It’s nothing like that…I’m not into guys.” But as he said that last part, the words felt strange on his tongue, and a flicker of doubt ignited in his chest.

Something about Langa’s presence stirred feelings he didn’t want to acknowledge. It wasn’t right.

Miya remained quiet for a moment, his smirk fading slightly as he returned to his laptop, the weight of the conversation hanging in the air between them. Reki shifted uncomfortably, his mind racing as he grappled with the whirlwind of emotions that had surfaced. Did he truly mean what he just stated?
He frowned, trying to shake off the uncertainty, but the feeling in his chest returned, more persistent than before, nagging at him.
With Miya absorbed in his laptop, Reki let his thoughts wander. He replayed the evening in his mind—the laughter, the warmth of Langa’s smile, the fleeting moments that made Reki feel like he was capable of doing anything. It was all so confusing, yet thrilling at the same time. Reki leaned back against the couch, staring at the ceiling as he wrestled with the growing feelings inside him. He had always had these feelings within himself, and the prospect was both exciting and extremely terrifying. He never once acted on them. The familiar voices of his family echoed in his mind of how it was wrong, yet, he couldn’t help but feel like it was…right. For him at least.

It was annoying.

But for now, he knew one thing: he enjoyed Langa’s company far more than he had expected, and as he sat there, surrounded by the vibrant chaos of the gaming lounge, he couldn’t help but wonder what tomorrow would bring. The last hint before the eighth day.