Chapter Text
Qin had a system.
It was a very good system.
It had taken him approximately fifteen years to build and it works for him.
He woke up, he went to school, he sat in his seat by the window, he read his book, he listened in class, he ate lunch, he went to the library on Wednesdays, he went home.
Simple.
Clean.
Peaceful.
The system had exactly zero room for complications.
Which was why, when Kim sat down next to him on Wednesday morning with the energy of someone about to say something Qin was not going to enjoy, Qin looked at him for exactly one second.
"What did you do."
"What?" Kim said. "Nothing. Why do you always assume-"
"Kim."
"Okay so," Kim said. "Don't be upset."
"I'm not upset."
"You're going to be a little upset."
"I'm not going to be," Qin stopped. "What did you do?”
Kim did the thing he did when he was about to say something he'd already rehearsed.
He sat up slightly.
He put his hands flat on the desk.
He made eye contact, which he knew Qin respected, because looking away while saying something was the fastest way to make Qin not believe you.
"Tong and I," Kim started, "went to the Cupid Club."
Qin looked at him.
"The matchmaking club," Kim added, helpfully.
Qin kept looking at him.
"We asked them to help you find-"
"No," Qin said.
"Qin."
"No."
"Just listen please."
"Kim."
"You haven't dated anyone ever," Kim said, with the energy of someone who had been saving this speech for a while.
"Not once. Not even close. And I know you're going to say you're fine and you don't need anyone and blah blah, but I also know that last week you watched that drama I put on for five minutes and when the two leads finally got together you went really quiet and then you said 'hm' and then you watched the rest of the episode."
Qin said nothing.
"You said ‘hm’, Qin. You never say ‘hm’ about anything."
"I was commenting on the cinematography."
"You were not commenting on the cinematography."
"The lighting in that scene was interesting."
"Qin."
Qin looked out the window.
This was a tactic he used when Kim was being correct about something and Qin did not want to confirm it.
Kim knew this tactic.
He had known about it for ten years.
"It's already done," Kim said, gently.
"We already went. They already agreed to help. All you have to do is just, let it happen."
"Let what happen," Qin said, still looking out the window. "What exactly is going to happen?"
"They just want to observe you a bit first. Get to know what kind of person would suit you. And then they'll, match you up. Carefully. They have a really good track record, I saw the board, fourteen successful—"
"Observe me," Qin said.
"Just for a little while."
"Like I'm an animal."
"Like you're a person they want to understand."
"That's the same thing."
"It's really not."
"Kim," Qin said.
Kim stopped.
Qin turned from the window and looked at him.
Properly.
Kim, to his credit, held eye contact, which most people couldn't do when Qin looked at them like that.
That was why Qin kept him around.
"I appreciate," Qin said, very carefully, "that you did this because you care about me."
"But?" Kim said.
"But I am going to pretend this conversation didn't happen, and nothing is going to change, and life will continue as normal."
"Qin—"
"Thank you for telling me," Qin said. "I mean that."
He picked up his book.
Kim sat there for a second.
Then he said: "They're coming to the library today."
Qin looked up from his book.
"To observe," Kim added.
"To observe me."
"They observe all their ‘cases’ first. It's a process."
Qin stared at him.
"I told you so you wouldn't be caught off guard," Kim said, quickly. "I wasn't going to not tell you, but that felt really wrong as your friend."
"Which ones are coming?"
"All three of them I think."
Qin thought about the three boys from yesterday.
The one who had walked into his classmate in the hallway and then stared at him like he was a very complicated math problem.
The one who had been staring from across the canteen until Qin looked up and then looked away so fast it was a little funny.
And the other one.
The one who hadn't been staring.
Who had just been sitting there, talking to his friends, and had looked up when Qin noticed the staring one, and for a second their eyes had met across the canteen in a very normal, brief, unremarkable way.
Qin didn't know why he remembered that part specifically.
He put it aside.
"Fine," he said.
Kim blinked. "Fine?"
"They can observe, or whatever." Qin looked back at his book.
"I'm going to the library anyway. I'm not changing my plans because some matchmaking club wants to watch me read."
"That's, actually very mature of you."
"And if they stare again I'm going to stare back until it becomes uncomfortable."
"That's less mature."
"I contain multitudes," Qin said, and turned a page.
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The library in the afternoon was Qin's favorite place in the school.
Not because it was special.
Just because it was quiet.
The librarian, an older woman named P'Wan who had been there since before Qin started school, knew him by now.
She gave him a nod when he came in and didn't ask questions, which he appreciated more than he could say.
His corner was exactly where he'd left it.
The chair near the small window at the back.
Not the big window at the front where the light came in strong and warm and everyone wanted to sit.
The small one, where the light came in at a different angle and you had to sit slightly sideways to read by it, but it was worth it because nobody else ever wanted to sit there.
Qin sat down, took his book out, arranged it at the right angle, and settled.
He read two pages.
Then he heard the library door open.
He didn't look up.
He kept reading.
But he was aware, in the way he was always aware of things, that someone had come in.
More than one someone.
He read another paragraph.
There was a scraping of chairs on the other side of the library.
Some whispering.
A very muffled sound like someone had been elbowed.
Qin turned a page.
He waited.
He heard one set of footsteps approaching.
Not the starer.
Not the clumsy one.
The other one.
He knew this before he even looked up and he couldn't have explained how.
He looked up anyway.
The boy stopped a polite distance from his table.
Up close, proper up close, the first time - he had this face that was just.
Very.
Open.
Like he didn't know how to look like anything other than exactly what he was thinking.
He was smiling, the slightly nervous kind that people did when they weren't sure how something was going to go but they were going to try anyway.
"Hi," the boy said. "Sorry to bother you."
He actually did sound sorry.
"You're not bothering me," Qin said.
Which was only partially true but was the polite thing to say.
"I'm Duang," the boy said. "Second year, class 2C."
"I know who you are," Qin said.
Duang blinked. "You do?"
"You run the Cupid Club."
"Oh." Duang's expression did something that was almost embarrassed but not quite.
"Right. Yeah. I do. Kim told you we were coming?"
"Kim tells me everything," Qin said. "Eventually."
"That's." Duang seemed to be recalculating slightly. "Okay. So you know why we're here."
"You're observing me."
"We're," Duang paused. "Yes. That's technically accurate."
"It's fine," Qin said.
And then he looked back at his book.
There was a short pause.
He was aware that Duang hadn't moved.
He read a sentence.
"Can I sit here?" Duang asked.
Qin looked up.
He looked at the table.
The table had four chairs around it.
All of them empty except his.
"Yes," Qin said.
"Okay." Duang pulled out the chair across from him and sat down.
He put a notebook on the table.
The cover had a cartoon dog on it.
Qin looked at the cartoon dog.
Looked at Duang.
"It was a gift," Duang said, a little defensively.
"I didn't say anything."
"You were looking at it."
"I look at things."
"Right." Duang opened the notebook.
"Sorry. I'm going to just, do some work. You can ignore me."
"Okay," Qin said.
He went back to reading.
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Across the library, pressed behind a bookshelf in a way that they absolutely believed was subtle, Pae turned to Jamie with huge eyes.
"He sat down," Pae whispered.
"I can see that," Jamie whispered back.
"Qin let him sit down."
"Yes."
"At the same table."
"Pae—"
"Do you understand what I'm telling you," Pae whispered. "Qin. Let someone. Sit at his table."
"He let him sit in one of the three other available chairs at a four-person table," Jamie said.
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves."
"That's more than P'Win got."
Jamie opened his notebook.
"P'Win got rejected with one hand," Pae continued. "Duang gets to sit at the table. With both hands. This is progress."
"Write nothing," Jamie told himself quietly, and then wrote something.
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Qin read.
Duang did his work.
They didn't talk.
This went on for about ten minutes, which Qin had expected to feel more uncomfortable than it did.
It didn't feel uncomfortable.
That was a little strange.
He was used to silence with Kim and Tong, but that was different.
That was ten years of knowing someone.
This was a boy he had spoken to for approximately four sentences who was sitting across from him and doing homework and not trying to fill the quiet with noise.
Most people couldn't do that.
Most people, when they sat near Qin, got nervous about the silence and started talking.
Duang was just.
Working.
Occasionally he tapped his pen against his notebook, but quietly, the absent-minded kind, not the fidgety annoying kind.
Qin turned a page.
"What are you reading?" Duang asked.
He asked it the way someone asked what time it was.
Just curious. Not trying to start a conversation, just.
Curious.
Qin looked up.
Looked at him.
Considered.
He tilted the book so the cover was visible.
Duang read the title and nodded slowly, like he was filing it away.
"Is it good?"
"Yes," Qin said.
"What's it about?"
Qin looked at him for a second.
Usually when people asked what a book was about, they were making small talk and didn't actually want to know.
Duang had his pen down.
He was just looking at Qin.
Waiting.
Like he actually wanted to know.
"It's about a man who keeps showing up in different people's lives right before something important happens to them," Qin said.
"He doesn't know why. He doesn't get to stay. He just shows up, and then he has to leave."
Duang thought about this.
"That sounds sad," he said.
"It is," Qin said. "But it's a good kind of sad."
Duang nodded again.
Didn't say anything else.
Didn't say oh I love books like that or I should read it sometime or anything that was a conversation for its own sake.
He just picked his pen back up and went back to his work.
Qin went back to his book.
Another few minutes passed.
"Is it always this quiet in here on Wednesdays?" Duang asked.
"Yes," Qin said.
"That's nice."
"Yes," Qin said again.
He turned a page.
Then, without fully planning to, he said:
"The big window gets crowded on Tuesdays. Everyone wants the afternoon light. Wednesday is better."
He didn't know why he said that.
It wasn't information Duang needed.
Duang looked at the small window.
At the angle the light was coming in.
"Huh," he said. "Yeah, that's a better reading angle actually."
He shifted his chair slightly.
Qin watched him do this.
"Better?" Qin asked.
"Much better," Duang said.
He smiled.
It was the unguarded kind.
The kind that happened on its own without someone deciding to do it.
Qin looked at his book.
Turned a page.
He read the same paragraph twice without taking any of it in.
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Behind the bookshelf, Pae had his hand pressed flat over his mouth.
He tapped Jamie on the arm three times in quick succession.
Jamie looked at him.
Pae pointed.
Jamie looked at the table.
At Qin, who had said something to Duang.
At Duang, who had shifted his chair.
At both of them, sitting in the Wednesday light, not talking, but not in the painful kind of way.
The comfortable kind.
Jamie wrote something in his notebook.
Then he looked at Pae.
Pae pointed at Duang.
Then at his own heart.
Then made an explosion gesture with his hand.
Jamie shook his head slightly.
Pae pointed at Duang again.
Made a smaller explosion.
Jamie wrote: Phase One- unexpected early progress. Duang sitting with the target. Target initiated secondary conversation. Note — this is faster than anticipated.
Then he paused.
Added: Also note — Duang has been smiling since he sat down. He doesn't know he's doing it.
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The library session lasted another thirty minutes.
They talked three more times.
Once when Qin's book slipped off the table and Duang caught it before it hit the floor and handed it back without making a big deal of it.
Once when Duang's pen ran out of ink and he looked around and made a face and Qin, without a word, took a spare pen from his pencil case and put it on the table between them.
Duang looked at the pen.
Looked at Qin.
Qin was already reading again.
"Thank you," Duang said.
"It's fine," Qin said.
And once, near the end, when the library was getting ready to close and P'Wan came around to let people know, Duang started packing up.
He accidentally knocked his eraser off the table and it rolled under Qin's chair, hey both went to get it at the same time and nearly knocked heads.
Duang pulled back fast.
"Sorry—"
"It's fine," Qin said, for the third time that afternoon.
He picked up the eraser and held it out.
Duang took it.
Their fingers didn't touch or anything dramatic like that.
But Duang was close enough that Qin could see that his eyes were quite warm.
The kind of eyes that looked like they were smiling even when his face was just neutral.
"Thanks," Duang said, tucking the eraser into his bag.
"You drop things a lot," Qin said.
Duang laughed.
It was a short, surprised laugh, the kind that happened when something caught you off guard.
"Yeah," he said. "I really do."
Qin picked up his bag.
Hung it properly on his shoulder.
"See you," Duang said, easy as anything.
"Mm," Qin said.
He walked out.
He did not look back.
He thought about the laugh the whole way home.
The surprised kind.
The real kind.
He thought: hm.
And then he thought: stop it.
And then he thought about it again.
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Outside the library, in the hallway, Duang was waiting for Pae and Jamie.
He was in a good mood.
This happened sometimes, a good mood appearing from nowhere, but this one had a specific texture to it that he couldn't quite name.
He'd had a good afternoon.
That was all.
Good case progress.
Qin was easier to be around than expected, which was useful information for finding him a match.
Very useful.
Very professional.
Pae came out of the library first.
He took one look at Duang's face and his expression did something complicated.
"How was it," he said, carefully.
"Good," Duang said.
"Really good, actually. I think I understand him better now. He's—" Duang thought about how to say it.
"He's not cold. He's just quiet. There's a difference. He talks when he has something to say and doesn’t when he doesn’t. And there's nothing uncomfortable about it. He's just — easy."
Pae stared at him.
"Easy," Pae repeated.
"To be around. Easy to be around."
"Right."
Jamie came out of the library.
He looked at Duang.
He looked at Pae.
He clicked his pen.
"Good session?" he asked Duang.
"Really good," Duang said.
He had started walking and they fell into step on either side of him. "I think I know more about what he needs from a match now. Like, in practice, not just in theory."
"Such as," Jamie said.
"Someone who doesn't force conversation but is actually interested when it happens. Someone who's not loud but is present, you know? Just present."
Duang thought about the way Qin had told him about the Wednesday light without being asked.
"And someone who makes him comfortable enough to just say things. He said this thing about the window and the light and I don't think he even realized he'd said it at first."
Jamie was writing while walking, which was a skill he had mastered.
"He said something he didn't plan to," Jamie said.
"Yeah." Duang smiled a little. "
First session and he already said something he didn't plan to. That's actually — I think that's a really good sign. I think if the right person just keeps showing up in a consistent way, he'll open up more than people expect."
"Hm," Jamie said.
"What?"
"Nothing. Good insight."
They walked.
"What's our next move?" Duang asked.
"I think," Jamie said, slowly, like he was just figuring it out, which Duang would have known was fake if he knew Jamie better in this specific moment, "we should try a direct pairing approach."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning we pair Qin with a candidate and observe how he responds."
Jamie clicked his pen. "But since we don't have a confirmed candidate yet, the pairing should be a trial run. A test case. Someone we trust, who fits the profile, so we can see what a real interaction looks like and fine-tune from there."
Duang nodded slowly.
This made sense.
This was logical.
"Who do you have in mind for the trial?" he asked.
Jamie looked at him.
He had his calm, neutral expression.
"You," he said.
Duang stopped walking.
"Me?"
"You know the case best. You understand what Qin needs. And he's already responded to you better than anyone we've observed, which gives us useful data." Jamie kept walking. "You'd just spend time with him. Build rapport. Observe how he engages. It's not a real pairing, it's a trial."
Duang stood there for a second.
Then he caught up.
"That's — okay, yeah, that makes sense," he said. "For data."
"For data," Jamie agreed.
Pae, walking on Duang's other side, was looking straight ahead.
His expression was the expression of someone who had decided, out of love for his friend, to keep his mouth completely shut.
It was the hardest thing he'd ever done.
He was doing it.
He was a good friend.
"Okay," Duang said. "Yeah. I can do that."
"Good," Jamie said.
They walked.
"It was nice," Duang said, after a moment. A bit quieter.
"Just sitting there with him. I thought it was going to be harder, like, I thought I'd have to work at it, but it wasn't like that." He paused. "He lent me a pen."
Pae made a very small sound.
"He just — took it out and put it on the table," Duang said. "Without me asking. I didn't even say anything."
"Very considerate," Jamie said mildly.
Duang laughed. "Yeah. Yeah, exactly."
He shifted his bag on his shoulder. "I like him. He's interesting."
He said this with the completely certain, innocent tone of someone who meant it professionally. "I think this case is going to be really good."
"I think so too," Jamie said.
He sounded like he was smiling.
Duang looked at him.
Jamie's expression was perfectly normal.
"You're making a face," Duang said.
"I don't make faces."
"You're doing the face."
"I have no idea what you're referring to."
Duang squinted at him.
Then at Pae.
Pae was also making a face but Pae always made a face so this was less informative.
"You're both being weird," Duang said.
"We're always weird," Pae said, with enormous effort. "You just usually don't notice."
Duang let it go.
He was in too good a mood to chase it.
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That night, Jamie sat at his desk.
Notebook open.
He read over his Phase One notes.
Subject A (Qin): allowed Subject B to sit at his table. Initiated secondary conversation unprompted. Lent a pen without being asked. Three interactions total, all initiated by Subject A. No visible discomfort. One near-smile at the end of session.
He turned the page.
Subject B (Duang): smiled from the moment he sat down. Reported that Subject A is "easy to be around" and "interesting." Used the word "nice" to describe sitting in silence with Subject A. Has agreed to trial pairing without realizing the trial is him. Currently believes he is gathering data for a candidate who is not himself.
Jamie drew a neat line under these notes.
Added: Phase Two — controlled pairing. Duration: as long as required.
He considered this.
Then, underneath, in smaller letters:
Prediction: Duang will figure it out before he admits it. Qin will admit it before he figures it out. Timeline: unclear. Progress: ahead of schedule.
He capped the pen.
He sat back in his chair.
He thought about Duang saying I like him, he's interesting with complete professional confidence.
He thought about the way Duang had still been smiling in the library long after any matchmaker needed to be smiling.
Jamie was not a person who felt things loudly.
He didn't make a big show of things.
But he was fond of Duang in a very specific way that only people who had known someone for a long time could be.
The kind of fondness that made you want to make sure things went right for them.
He picked the pen back up.
One last note, at the bottom of the page.
Side observation: Qin thought about the laugh the whole way home.
He didn't actually know this.
But he was fairly sure.
He was usually right about these things.
He closed the notebook.
Put it in exactly the right place on his desk.
Turned off the light.
And thought: yes.
This was going to work out just fine.