Chapter Text
when mo guanshan turned 13, his mother decided it was time to read his cards. she laid the cards in front of him, bent over them and murmured something to herself softly before straightening, a slight frown on her face.
“stay away from boys with dark, black hair.” she said simply. guanshan asked her why, because some boys with dark, black hair were kind of attractive, kind of uh- cute, and guanshan sometimes found himself staring at a few of them. “because he’ll only hurt you.” she answered.
‘he’. guanshan’s mother was talking about 1 specific black-haired boy. guanshan didn’t know which black-haired boy was going to hurt him, and he found it stupid to avoid all of them when a safe majority of Chinese have black hair. so he ignored her advice, and hung out with black-haired boys; some of his closest friends had black hair, and if they happened to be cute, sometimes they became more than just friends. (and then the civil war happened and he had to run, and he found himself regretting not listening to his mother: it was a whole thing.)
guanshan’s card reading was nearly 10 years ago and he had almost forgotten all about it, but now there’s a man with strands of wet black hair dripping rain-water on his welcome mat staring guanshan down right at his front door. and somehow, guanshan knows that this is that 1 specific black-haired boy his mother read about in his cards all those years ago.
the man couldn’t be younger than guanshan. he could have been older - his build is bigger and taller, his face is sharper, and the circles under his eyes are darker. his smile is strained as he asks something guanshan could not catch over the rapid thumping of his heart in his ears.
guanshan blinks, tries to focus. he takes a deep breath and watches the man’s lips.
“… neighbour?”
guanshan just stares at him, unclear of what he had just asked. his face expresses as much.
“could i borrow your phone?” the man repeats, gritting his teeth a bit. “i lost my keys and need to call a locksmith to open my apartment door.”
oh, so that’s what he needs. unfortunately, guanshan had just come home as well and just plugged his dead phone in to charge, which means his phone won’t be booting up the home screen any time soon. he tells his neighbour just as much. his neighbour looks skeptical, but guanshan doesn’t care. if the man thinks guanshan is simply trying to avoid being helpful, then let him think that. it would be more convenient for guanshan if he thought that.
“why don’t you try your other neighbour?” guanshan suggests, gesturing to the 3rd door on the floor, next to his unit.
“trust me, i did.” the man says. “no answer.”
guanshan shouldn’t have answered too. why did he open the door?
“maybe you can try our upstairs or downstairs neighbours then.” he goes to close his front door. the man quickly slams a palm against it to hold it open, startling guanshan.
“look,” the man exhales harshly, clearly frustrated with guanshan’s lack of sympathy. “i’m tired, and i don’t want to try other doors knowing they’re asleep because it’s 3 in the fucking a.m., i am so sorry for bothering you, and in normal circumstances, i will never have bothered you. but i am sincerely asking for your help because i’m desperate. so please, will you let me in?” the fierce glare he gets in return has him adding, “i’ll pay you.”
stay away from boys with dark, black hair.
and this one particular boy has the darkest black hair, inky and dripping with night-rain. his eyes are murky and pitless, as if swallowing any light that dared to cast a reflection on them. his fingertips are turning redder with how he is almost trying to grip the surface of guanshan’s door.
stay away from boys with dark, black hair.
guanshan stares the man down, apologises and then closes the door in the man’s seething glare.