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After starting his senior year in high school, SiZhui had established a constant routine: he had to leave home before 6 A.M. so he could catch the train that would take him to school early enough to be first and open his club He had to leave at 4 P.M. on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and wait until 6 P.M. every Monday, Wednesday and Friday to get to the train on time. It could be a bit monotonous and troublesome, he could even take other faster routes to school or home, but there was a reason why SiZhui forced himself to put forth that effort day after day.
He saw him every day, 6:30 A.M. he got into his same wagon and continued two stations before his own, and was always the first to descend. He had seen him by chance, it was the first day of school, when naturally his dad had lost the car keys, and his father was not at home. He had to try his luck on the train. But when he got home, he assured his parents that he would go to school every day in this way, they should not worry anymore.
He had questioned his stupidity hundred times. How could he be so ridiculous? So childish? But then, he found himself waiting to get back in the wagon at the same time as always, like every day, without fail. Safe in his little routine.
And there it was. He was not very tall in comparison, he estimate that maybe he should be at least a centimeter or two shorter than himself; his hair was brown and short, just slightly longer locks adorning his face framed by fascinating amber eyes that reflected the morning light from their position at the train wagon door window; His complexion was clear and neat, SiZhui wondered if his skin was made of marble and if his face, in delicate and slightly childish features not quite masculine or feminine but soft and beautiful, would be cold or warm to the touch.
Above all, the vermilion mark on his forehead was especially conspicuous, which was the reason why SiZhui had found himself looking at him the first time, when he had scolded himself for looking too much, it was rude of him to do. But he soon realized that his eyes were inevitably returning to him. At that time, had prayed that he would not realize it, would that seem strange? Would he bother? But, for better or worse, he never looked at him, totally oblivious to his gaze.
That gave him time to see more details, to peek longer. Had noticed his uniform first, it was not the same as his and, from what he could find out, it belonged to a private school not very close to his own, he would surely have to take the other line to get there. Also notice that every Monday, Wednesday and Friday he would take the train home later; Those days he had an archery equipment, it was not difficult for him to know which club he belonged and the reason for his delay when going home. It took a bit of trial and error but he finally figured out his full routine. And, even if he never turned to see him, for SiZhui, see him became the highlight of his day.
Sometimes he wanted to look at him even for a second, he couldn't help but fantasize about the exact moment when their gazes would meet and then!... Well, he was embarrassed to think of a then. But he never turned around and soon had to accept, that he was just another passerby in his life, nothing special to see. The thought was not as bleak as he expected and he was actually content to be his spectator. Although he had fantasized many times about crossing the wagon and talking to him, he really did not dare, what if he thought it was strange? What if he didn't want to talk to him? Or worse, what if he decided not to get on the same train again to avoid finding him?
No. That was too risky and he was happy enough with his little routine to spoil it, or so had thought. Every time he fed a little more with details of his person, he could not prevent his imagination from running wild, and the desire to get closer appeared again, he wanted more, to know more, to be closer.
Like when he saw him check his phone and could see his wallpaper, where he and a cute husky with a bell on his neck were posing happily for the camera. So, all day he imagines if that was his pet, if he would have more, if he liked only dogs or would like the rabbits that his parents raised in the garden, who he had taken the picture of and if they could talk about their pets to get closer to him. But of course, he didn't.
However, the best thing had been the day when he answered a phone call being so close to him. He had imagined his voice many times, but never thought he would hear it. It was better than he had thought, even if the young boy seemed to argue annoyed with the person on the other end of the line, he found every note and vibration of the sound of his voice charming, his heart had started to beat like crazy. Not to mention that his annoyed face, with the delicate brown eyebrows puckered into a pout that hinted at a childhood just over, seemed the cutest thing in the world. He wished he could take his face and smooth his frown with a little kiss between his eyebrows, right where the little vermilion mark was.
The next time he was able to hear his voice, he was even more annoyed, letting out small grunts from time to time to avoid raising his voice. That time he was able to hear the voice on the other end of the line and, despite the threats and scolding, SiZhui was able to hear something wonderful. Jin Ling. The voice had called him Jin Ling. That was his name. He had felt like a thief stealing something precious, but it made him so happy that he almost lost the serenity on his face, which he had worked so hard to maintain. Jin Ling. He couldn't wait to try saying it, he had desperately counted the seconds it took him to be alone just to could pronounce it out loud and let the sound come out like a spell, a prayer from his own voice. He had never felt happier and more stupid than then.
He had imagined every detail of his life, where he would go out, who he would talk to, what he would like or dislike. It was simply a hobby that was difficult to give up, imagining was the closest he was to interacting with him. It's not like he hadn't tried to get closer, but something was holding him back, and he didn't know what to say. What excuses would use to talk to a perfect stranger? His mind was blank, even though he had mentally gone over every possible scenario where they had to talk, where they could meet.
But nothing really happened. There was no major flaw that left them conveniently alone in the same conveniently empty wagon; They would not accidentally collide while throwing their things and they would mistakenly take one another's belongings that will force them to look for each other and chat; and of course, they wouldn't suddenly realize that there was a red thread connecting their pinkies and their lives. It just didn't work like that. It was daunting but real, so he tried to remind himself that he was happy being his spectator, a devoted spectator.
But one day as if his crazy fantasies came true, a golden opportunity presented itself before his eyes, literally golden. When Jin Ling was going down to his station, SiZhui couldn't help but notice that something fell out of his pocket before exiting the train. When he reached it, the doors had closed and he found a golden handkerchief finely embroidered with gold threads and a white peony adorning the center. It was his lucky day! The next morning, he would simply have to give his the handkerchief and then he would have a perfect excuse to talk.
But he neither did. He had kept the handkerchief as a treasure, a lucky charm and a memento of his first love. He never went out without it and he had taken great care to keep it intact and immaculate, always keeping it on his chest, close to his heart. He wondered if Jin Ling would miss his handkerchief. Would he be upset if he ever found out that he had stolen it?
It had been months since the first time he saw him, he knew that the holidays were coming and he would not be able to see him for a while, the weekends were already torture, he did not want to think about the coming martyrdom. But the worst would come later, when he graduated and couldn't see him anymore; he wondered what year he was in, he had never really figured it out. For now he could only see him every day and enjoy the sweet torment of his heart that beat with each gesture the boy made, each time he tucked a silky brown lock behind his ear, or when he slowly lowered his long curly eyelashes, he could not avoid holding his breath with each heavy exhalation that the other let out due to the fatigue of the day or the excess of sleep.
But often and inevitably he wondered what would happen to him next when he couldn't see him anymore. In a world of interlocking cause and effect, he wondered if the hidden heartbeat he stole would affect him one day in the future. He had owned those moments and he never knew it. Good. But if one day it was to be discovered, would it not affect his fate? It was a source of great obsession. And he couldn't help but think that if it had already affected his life to such a degree, shouldn't he take responsibility for it? However, the arrogance of the absurd was not enough to give him the courage to cross the wagon.
He dared not cross that imaginary line that had divided his desire and his fear, turning it into an unattainable longing of his heart. It would then be the immaculate memory of his adoration, the neat and perfect image created from the delirium of his obsessive imagination. It didn't have to be real to be perfect, Jin Ling could forever be the graceful figure with brown hair, amber eyes, smooth pearly skin and a vermilion mark right in the middle of his eyebrows, like an ethereal immortal.
Yes. It was. An immaculate conception of the crystallized ideal of his love. But not really. He could excuse himself as much as he wanted, the truth was that he simply lacked courage, he was afraid of breaking the safe little bubble that he had created around him. Despite having spent so much time peeking at him, the idea of getting closer did not come any easier. Actually, with each passing day it became more and more difficult and distant trying to fulfill his crazy fantasies and talk to him.
He wondered if it would ever get easier. Probably not. So, would he have to live in regret for what could have been? Simply imagining the future far from him, too naive and arrogant to think that it would make a dent in his fate from his distant and silent place as a spectator. Time was running out. Every time he saw him come down from the station, his heart became knotted, a knot increasingly difficult to untangle.
He avoided thinking about the moment when he would no longer see him and tried to be happy with every moment he could toke, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to convince himself that he was happy just being a spectator. Maybe he should accept that he needed more, needed to know him and get closer to him, what did it matter if reality did not fit the perfect illusion that he had built in his head!? He preferred a thousand times that it be shattered to the uncertainty that gnawed at him day after day.
But thinking about it had been easier than doing it, every day he was filled with resolution only to falter at the moment he saw the silky hair being carefully placed behind the small, pale ear. The excuses were not lacking. He couldn't do it in the morning, what if he delayed it for his classes? On the other hand, the afternoons were always problematic, surely he was so tired that he just wanted to get home without any stranger interrupting his day, or what if he had met someone and interrupted his way? He couldn't be that rude.
Actually, he knew they were just that, excuses. He could feel like each day that passed was a constant and loud warning that he was running out of time. He had to remember that no extraordinary event would help him get out of the agony and anxiety of showing a little the vulnerability of his heart and getting closer to him.
He wondered how long it would take to forget it, to be okay, for the overflowing emotions in his chest to quiet again. Was it what was called love at first sight? He really did not know him at all, he could only imagine what his character would be like through the small gestures that revealed the person behind the bright amber eyes hidden with each flutter of the thick and childish lashes.
He had never been particularly good at reading people, even if he could sense their intentions, and he had never been particularly romantic. But here he was, keeping a foreign handkerchief close to his heart, imagining the life of a person with whom he did not dare to speak, but without whom he could not imagine being. No. He didn't think he could forget it soon, maybe never.
He saw him rise like every morning, totally oblivious to the internal debate of his heart, from the torment of his indecision. He took a deep breath, deep enough that the hammering in his chest stopped ringing in his ears as loud as a siren. He couldn't wait any longer, if he didn't act now, he probably never would.
He tried taking one step and then another. It was difficult. But finally, he crossed the imaginary line that separated him from his illusion and kept him from his fears. He was close enough to smell the sweet fragrance of peonies and lotuses that emanated from his skin along with something he could not distinguish and yet it calmed his heart. Then he finally opened his mouth to force himself to speak.
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It was strange, just strange. He had started high school and had insisted to his uncles that he was old enough to be able to go to class by himself, even if that meant he had to wake up very early and take an endless train ride. Although it was his decision to do it this way, it was strange. Of course, hundreds of boys would follow similar trajectories, that was not the strange thing; the strange thing was the guy who seemed to stare at him constantly, every day to and from school.
He didn't really know when started, at first, he barely noticed. He'd only caught a few sidelong glances, he didn't care, and he was good at pretending didn't notice people's curiosity. Curious, innocent, poisonous, or malicious glances were normal in his environment and at least, here there were no whispers behind him. Maybe the guy was just curious about his vermilion mark, some younger children had asked before, the older ones just looked without asking.
However, Jin Ling realized as the gaze was still there, it couldn't be just curiosity if the same thing happened every day. He couldn't recognize him at all, but he had obligatory social contact with many people and he didn't always remember faces. Anyway, if it was the case and the guy recognized him, he would have spoken to him before. After all, he did not look like a shy guy and unable to talk to others, and he was aware that himself was not a threatening presence like to scare others away. Still, the guy didn't come near, which of course made him more alert.
He never showed that he knew he was being watched and it wasn't like the guy was looking at him directly and uncomfortably, even if somehow Jin Ling always knew when he was there. He wondered if he was some kind of stalker, one of those weird guys whose hobby is following people they notice according to their strange criteria. If he was, at least he was one of those who kept their distance and settled for looking from afar, not that that would rule him out as a possible threat to their personal safety.
He was tempted to get angry and ask him why he was staring at him so much; it was normal for him to get upset and be impulsive, he was aware of that. The problem was that the guy had not done anything, even his gaze was difficult to detect, if he was not so used to sneaking glances, he probably would not have noticed. Besides, it would be embarrassing to go yell at him on the train or something, he was already imagining the whispers of the people. The only good thing about public transportation was that nobody cared who he was, his status or position, they didn't usually give you second glances unless you were acting weird.
Not counting that the guy didn't seem strange, obnoxious or malicious, he seemed like a decent and nice boy. He'd seen him give up his seat to women and the elderly, apologize for bumping into someone, even if it wasn't his fault, and never bother being stepped on or pushed, even smiling sympathetically. He could also decide by his uniform which school he attended, and it was a good, recognized and very strict school, one of his uncles made an exchange there and had even been his second choice for his attendance at school; as if that were not enough, he had come to see on his arm the band that indicated that he belonged to the Student Discipline Council, a model boy.
Yes, he looked like the perfect student. The kind of kids whom teachers and adults in general would hold in high esteem and trust, whom other kids looked up to and respected. Of course, this did not guarantee anything. Jin Ling knew too many neat and benevolent looking people who were actually mean and malicious to know that appearances are not everything.
Although the truth was that people are generally blinded by such things, which was yet another reason not to make a scene. He will only lose face, and he refused to take the crowded train that left earlier or the one that left later, with which he would be late for class. If the Mr. Perfect wanted to look at him, fine! He wouldn't get off the train for that, doing so would be like running away and admitting defeat.
Although somehow it also amused him to think about what if all the followers of the Mr. Perfect would think if they knew that his idol has as a hobby spying on other boys on the train. The idea always made him smile with a malicious satisfaction he couldn't explain. So, he should scold himself for taking it so lightly, he should remind himself that the guy was after all a stranger and just because he looked innocent didn't mean he was.
Maybe his uncle was right and he was simply too spoiled to care about serious things. But it was not his fault, if the guy was a stalker, he was not one of those who followed you, took pictures secretly, tried to touch you or did strange and unpleasant things in your presence, so he was not very threatening.
Maybe Mr. Perfect just liked being too curious in people's lives. Maybe when Jin Ling got off to change lines or when he got to the station on his way home, the Mr. Perfect would spend his time looking at yet another boy. Maybe he even did it at school, maybe he had little favorites here and there to keep up with his hobby.
So, he usually didn't care. Perhaps he was too used to the boy's gaze and pretending to ignore him that, somehow, he could really ignore him and go about his business like nothing in his day to day.
Of course, he knew it was there, but it wasn't like he needed to be more aware than that, it was like when Fairy walked into his room and stood there while he did his homework. He was aware of his presence, but there was no need to show appreciation for his or stop what he was doing. Although of course sometimes the gaze, like Fairy, silently claimed his attention, as if asking him to return his gaze, to acknowledge its existence and give it his attention.
Maybe the Mr. Perfect not only liked to look, but also like to be looked. Weirdo. It would not give him the satisfaction of doing what he wanted, if he was so determined to hide his presence, now he could continue to hide it, and if he wanted to be recognized he should approach him.
Another thought he should be reprimanding for, he wasn’t supposed to be playing a tug of war with a stranger and potential stalker, who probably didn't even know he was playing with him. It could be dangerous, only he didn't feel in danger, was its recklessness? Or was he bored enough at home to try his luck with a stranger? He had no idea.
So, he was being risky. He was letting him see, little pieces, little fissures. Was it feeding his curiosity? He didn't know if it was enough. Probably not. So, he gave it a try. One day he had dropped his favorite handkerchief as he got out of the wagon and waited a bit, but still the next day nothing happened. He wondered if maybe he didn't see him fall and was just wasting a good handkerchief for nothing, but no. He knew he was watching him, had made sure that it was. So, either he hadn't been able to pick it up, or Mr. Perfect had decided to keep it to himself. Anyway, he didn't go near him and that irritated him more, even if he should feel relieved.
He had the urge to go on, he had a malicious need to tease him, to reach out and let him know that he knew. But it absolutely wouldn't come close. He refused to be the first to give in! The idea of losing bothered him, even if he didn't know exactly what he was losing.
It was ridiculous and it bothered him. He decided to stop, ignore it and continue as if he did not know anything, maybe going tight on the train earlier would not be so bad, it would be the best thing to do without a doubt. However, he was aware that he still wanted the other to give in. He wondered what would happen when Mr. Perfect didn't see him in the same place. Did he think at first that he missed class? Would he wonder if he had become ill? When he realized that he would not return, would he look for him on other trains or would he let him pass?
His jiujiu was right, he was still childish and spoiled. But I would never tell him he was right! Well, it was decided, Mr. Perfect could seek a new target because he would get up early from now on. And he could also accept that the drivers of the parents of his "friends" from school take him home, he could take advantage of those pesky ones from time to time.
He was so busy with his mental resolution that he didn't realize it until it was late. The first thing that gave away his presence was his smell, ink, fresh grass and something he could only identify as sandalwood incense, his voice hit him shortly after, making him give a slight and not admirable start of surprise.
"Good morning. My name is Lan SiZhui and I am a Cloud Recesses third grader".
Jin Ling's brain was probably too surprised and shocked, because the only thing he could think of hearing him speak was that he looked like a Boy Scout introducing himself. Would he offer him cookies next? Of course, he didn't, and his expectant silence made it clear that he wanted an answer. Now, that was the time to avoid annoyance and choose not to respond, ignore it and get on with his life. However, clearly his brain was still not working well, because he could not help being weak at the sad puppy expression that the boy was beginning to have.
"Jin Ling".
The tone came out sullener than he expected, although it was already more than he was willing to give. But if he thought the sad puppy face was bad, the happy puppy was brighter than his eyes could bear, he almost wanted to look away from his luminous expression.
"It's a pleasure! I... I know it's weird but, I um... I've seen you a couple of times before and... Well, I was wondering... I was wondering if you would mind exchanging contacts...".
The boy had shown just the right amount of shyness and politeness in his soft voice to fool anyone. Of course he wasn't just anyone, had he seen him a couple of times before? Ha! Like if he is going to fall for it. Obviously he wasn't naive enough to believe that, obviously his face was hot and his tongue stuck with indignation and anger. Yes. That was it! I absolutely wasn't buying it! Nope. Not at all!.
"I'm sorry! I didn't want to bother you, I...".
"This is my stop".
Jin Ling couldn't keep watching him babble and apologize without feeling like he was kicking a puppy.
"I see...".
Now, that had been worse than kicking the puppy. He had nothing more to say, it was a simple hint, he just had to get off the wagon and the end of the problem.
"I have to come down or I'll be late".
There was no need to explain, so he just turned to leave.
"But…".
Oh no. He should stop and definitely shouldn't turn to look at the hopeful pup.
"I'll be here around 4:30 P.M.".
Dumb, dumb, dumb!.
"I will see you later".
Went down. He did not dare to see the bright gray eyes one more second, and of course, he decided to ignore the annoying and cheerful voice that promised to be in time to return home together, and obviously he did not deign to look up so that the others could see his face, which at this point was so red as the vermilion mark between his eyebrows...
Was so screwed up.