Work Text:
Nie Mingjue squints in the bright sunlight, shielding his eyes as he scans the playground. The swings are full, of course, and there are a couple shrieking girls who look to be a few years younger than him running across the rope bridge that connects two towers of a wooden play structure. He looks back over his shoulder at his Ma, who smiles encouragingly and waves at him to go, play! before returning her hands to rest possessively on her round belly. Mingjue tried to tell her that playgrounds were for babies, and he is seven, far too old for monkey bars and slides. (He could be persuaded to give the swings a try if the really big kids currently hogging the set would just leave already.) Instead, Mingjue smiles and waves and takes a few tentative steps into the sharply scented cedar chips that cover the ground in the play area. He spies a merry-go-round on the other side of the play structure. An older man, probably his baba’s age, sits on a bench nearby, frowning down at a book. Mingjue stops short, peering at the man. He doesn’t seem like a bad man, but Mingjue knows all about Stranger Danger, and you can never be too careful.
“Hey!”
Mingjue’s head snaps up, and he looks around.
“Over here!”
The monkey bars. A boy who’s probably Mingjue’s age hangs from the center of the structure. He grins at Mingjue.
“Hi!” he says again.
“Hi,” Mingjue replies. He walks over to the boy. “Are you stuck?”
The boy smiles again. “Oh, no.” He adjusts his grip and swings to the end of the bars, hand over hand, and hops down. “I was just practicing to keep my arms strong. You’re new.”
Mingjue crosses his arms across his chest. The boy seems nice, but so did the boys in his class at his new school, and then one of them put worms in Mingjue’s desk. It was fine. Mingjue got the worms outside before they dried up and died, but still. Rude.
“We moved here this summer,” Mingjue says. “My baba got a new job.”
“I’ve always lived here,” the boy says. He waves toward the stern man on the bench. “Shufu brought me to the park today because my Mama was too tired.”
Mingjue points to his Ma. “Ma brought me. She’s not my mother, but she’s nice. I don’t really remember my mother. Ma is having a baby.”
The boy’s eyes light up. “So is my mama!” He sticks out a hand. “I’m Lan Xichen by the way. You can call me Xichen. Or A-Huan, maybe. My mama and shufu call me that. Would you like a snack? Shufu always packs extras. Then maybe we can go look for bunnies. Sometimes they hide in the bushes at the edge of the park.”
“I’m Nie Mingjue. Just Mingjue. Ma brought some juice. I’m sure there’s enough to share.” He looks wistfully at the swings. “I wanted to swing.”
Xichen’s face darkens. “Those are the Wens. They aren’t very good at sharing, and they’re very loud, and that scares the bunnies away. But I’m sure I saw some.” His eyes widen, and Mingjue feels his resolve soften.
“I’ll get the juice.” He turns and runs over to the bench where his Ma sits, reading a magazine.
“Who were you talking to?” Ma asks, reaching out to ruffle Mingjue’s hair.
Mingjue looks over his shoulder at Xichen, then back at his Ma.
“My new friend.”