#ok this song. actually works SO much better for matchablossom!! but def works with renga too.

[beachytablecloth]

zukka or renga + 67?

i still have faith in you - abba (which was actually my 66th song, because 67 was a wiggles song. #preschoolteacherproblems)

We do have it in us

New spirit has arrived

The joy and the sorrow

We have a story and it survived

(cw: descriptions of grief and depression)

Everything after his dad’s passing had happened in a fog, like there was a thick piece of blurry glass between him and the rest of the world.

Langa remembers that first ride after he was gone. The snow somehow felt colder, and the wind against his face as he made his way down the mountain wasn’t exhilarating, but harsh, bitter. Even the sun, trying its best to poke between the heavy clouds, reflected off the snow in a dim, muted sort of way.

It was quiet, but not peaceful.

And he felt nothing.

And then they moved. Mom worried about him—insisted that they didn’t have to go unless he really wanted to—but he would have said yes to anything if it meant he didn’t have to hear her muffled crying through the wall their bedrooms shared every night.

His first day of school was a blur. Maybe he should’ve been nervous, anxious, something, but all he could do was go through the motions. Introduce himself. Sit in class. Try not to get lost between periods.

Until—

A runaway skateboard rattling down the hill. A loud, excitable redhead chasing after it.

The fog began to clear.

He rode and his heart raced. He fell off and scraped his knees and hands and leaned on Reki for balance. It felt like coming alive again.

He snuck out with Reki. He laughed with his friends.

(It felt like coming alive again.)

And then, it was all gone. It was like Dad, again. Except it was almost worse because he knew enough about this feeling to fear it this time. And the one person he wanted to talk to about it was avoiding him and it was his fault because Reki had made him promise and he’d joined the tournament anyway, chased the high of skating like it was the last thing he’d ever feel.

It didn’t matter that he was winning the races. That people were cheering for him.

He was skating, but he felt nothing. The joy slipped through his fingers like sand. He’d lost it. He’d lost Reki.

The person who’d brought fun back into his life. Someone amazing and intelligent and passionate and wonderful—gone like a bandaid ripped off too soon.

And Langa wasn’t sure how he’d survive it—the numbness, the hollowness in his chest. The world, gray and muted and like nothing even mattered anymore.

But then, they found each other again. Langa realized how much Reki meant to him, and he got to tell him that, and they skated together and it was back. They were a team again, and Langa knew that with Reki, he would be alright.

send me a ship and a number 1-100 and i'll write a drabble based on the corresponding song from my 2021 top 100 playlist