over the horizon [sk8 the infinity]

kyan reki - when the world is against us

(a/n: contains spoilers from episode 7)

- reader is gender neutral

The only source of light illuminating the room is the small screen in Reki's hand. It plays the same video he's been watching for the past few minutes and with every replay, the grip on his phone gets tighter. He has his back against the wall and his legs dangle off the edge of the bed. His headband's thrown away to the other side of the room, allowing his hair to wilt and cover his eyes that are rimmed with glossy tears.

You sigh and place the tray full of food and drinks on his desk before crawling onto the bed. He doesn't even look up, his eyes are still fixated on his phone. He's obsessed with the idea of improvement that stems from his insecurity as a skater who has no raw talent. He keeps comparing himself to everyone else despite your efforts to make him stop. It's a harmful mindset, but it's drilled so deep into his head.

"Reki," you call out.

He doesn't budge nor he doesn't react. He doesn't do anything. He stays still — so still that you wonder if he went unconscious or something.

You reach over to take the phone away and it's as if it was the right move because as soon it's out of his hands, he lets out the biggest sigh. His posture sags even more and he finally turns his head to look at you. His sad smile makes your heart shatter into pieces. You can't imagine how much stress and pressure he must have on his shoulders.

"Do I lack effort?" Reki asks shakily. "Langa's not the only one who got bruises all over his body, I did too."

He speaks with a timid voice, something you haven't heard him use in years. Reki likes to project his views loudly because he doesn't want to be seen as shy. It's in his nature to crave some form of attention, but he's not getting any. Instead, he's getting backlash as the 'redhead' who only hangs around Langa. He's kept it bottled up for so long now, he deserves to be angry and upset.

"I've spent years, months, days and seconds training. I tried so hard."

He grows silent, afraid that he'll start to cry. You've assured him a number of times that it's completely okay to let it out, but he likes to maintain his tough persona. Crying shouldn't be considered a weakness — it isn't — and whoever thought of it in the first place should feel ashamed of themselves. Crying saves most from being swallowed up into an endless pit of hate. Everyone's been there.

You squeeze his hand, unsure of what to talk about. Reki doesn't need you to say anything, he just needs you there. He hates being sympathised, he hates it when people feel sorry for him. He doesn't want pity, he just desires company.

"Does anyone know how much I..."

His voice wavers and he presses his lips together. His firm grasp on your hand loosens and he lowers his head, his hair concealing his eyes. Even though he doesn't say anything, you can feel the hatred raging about in Reki's body, attacking his self-esteem for things he couldn't accomplish. It's not his fault and you can't repeat that enough.

You lean back and rest your head against the wall. It's difficult when you don't have the right words to make the mood lighter. You're fully aware of how Reki doesn't like people who try too hard to comfort others, but just listening doesn't feel enough on your part. He's here holding onto your hand as if it's his last string of hope, while you're sitting next to him without a clue of what actually happened.