Work Text:
“He doesn’t like women”
There is a hand on his mouth.
There is a hand squeezing his heart, crushing it painfully.
Tian doesn’t know which one is his anymore. He can’t hear anything else than the blood rushing to his ears.
Jiu. His mother was right. Jiu is Ma’s subordinate. Jiu. He betrayed him, he revealed Tian’s secret to his family’s enemy. Jiu. The man he loves.
Tian runs, holding his tears and screams, he runs as far as possible, away from the house that he once imagined building a future inside. Away from the person who he thought was his home. The skies open and rain starts falling, the humid air making his steps heavier. Soon, he’s drenched and he cannot stop shivering, but he keeps running, until his legs give up and he crumbles, his body exhausted. On the soaked forest floor, leaves and mud sticking to his legs, he lets go, the rain mercifully drowning his heartbroken cries.
Jiu never loved him. He used him, deceived him, played with him. How naïve was Tian to fall for that trap. Jiu must have found him so stupid, so gullible. Wrenching sobs escape Tian and he bows down, the pieces of his heart a heavy weight. His mother was right, no one could love him, no one dreamed of a future in a modest wooden house with him.
It hurts so much, this feeling of his heart being crushed and torn to pieces. His dreams shattering and his future turning back to the prison of his duties. He cries, broken sounds ripping out of his throat. The rain keeps falling, muting the world around him, until all he can hear are his thoughts darkening and spiraling.
He can’t help but second-guess all their interactions, the film of their story playing through his tears. At which point did Jiu know who he was? Was he working for Ma from the start? Is that why he came to work for Tian after asking him to stop visiting? After pushing him away so much, he suddenly showed up at Tian’s house, like a gift from fate. It’s so obvious thinking back about it, oh, how stupid Tian has been. Did Jiu feel forced? Did he lie too when he said those tender, passionate words to Tian? When he made him feel accepted and loved for who he was? Why did he introduce Tian to his parents? What if part of it was real? Why would he betray Tian? Why would he bring danger and ruin to Tian’s family? Was all of this for money? Was Tian never truly loved?
Nausea starts rising and Tian muffles his screams into his hands, fingers digging into his face. He stays there for a while, crying his heart out, wishing he never gave it away in the first place.
Minutes or hours later, Tian cannot tell anymore, the cold becomes too much and numbness settles in. He remembers he needs to get away, away from Ma and his men, away from Jiu. He stands up, despite his legs shaking and the exhaustion burying in its bones. Arms wrapped around himself, he starts walking, not knowing which way is home. What his home anymore.
Each step is heavy, his whole body a dead weight, his throat hurts and his head keeps spinning. But he walks, step after step. He leaves his heart on that sodden forest floor, he leaves his future in that abandoned house, he leaves it all. And keeps walking.
“But in this world, it’s not just the two of us”
Tian puts down his pen, blinking away the mist gathering in his eyes.
Jiu’s letter is folded, safely, in the box next to his bed. He couldn’t bear to look at it while answering it. He reread it so many times, tracing each trembling character, trying to feel Jiu’s warmth and scent on the paper as if it was even possible. He can only imagine Jiu writing it, with his work-worn hands, slowly and carefully. His beautiful face so serious, his eyes focused. Pouring his heart out on this paper, trying to explain in a few words what happened, trying to tell Tian the truth. His longing and desperation, transpiring through each word, are laced with a hope that breaks Tian’s heart. How he wishes he could answer that hope and cherish it.
His own words are heavy with the ineluctable weight of his duty. He wants to tell Jiu he changed his life forever, how he gave him so many precious moments that he will never forget. How, each morning, he will wake up wishing to see his smile. How, each night, he will hope to meet him in his dreams. He wants to tell him he will be forever haunted by the taste of his lips. By the warmth of his embrace. How each rose will make him think about their first meeting. How every time he will read or write, he will remember those study lessons, bathed in afternoon light, in their own world.
Tian wishes, so ardently. But he has no right to wish, not in this life.
Closing his eyes, he breathes and puts his hands on his desk, his fingers grazing the paper. He breathes and remembers each smile, each touch, each moment. Imprinting them in his soul to be forever locked away, his forbidden treasure.
He wishes he could cry and scream. Rage against the world and its cruel inequalities. Tell Jiu he will come to meet him, forsake family and duty, defy society’s expectations. Be free. Be himself.
He will not be able to see Jiu ever again after this. He will never hug him, kiss him, hold his hand, see him smile, eat together, build a future together, stand by his side through life. So many words he wishes he could tell him. So many dreams he wishes they could share.
He loves Jiu.
Time allowed him to better understand Jiu’s motivations and his ties with Ma. Why he sold Tian’s secret. The wound is still here but it’s healing. Because he knows what one would do for their family, how far they could go to lie and cover up. The pain of burying his love forever soon overshadowed any anger left in him. He wants Jiu to know he understands, that he’s not mad anymore, that there is no guilt to carry in the future.
If only he wasn’t born a Song. If only fates were kinder and society more equal towards love.
His tale with Jiu would only bring chaos and loss for his family, ruin the carefully established empire built by his parents. It would put Jiu in danger. His father would never accept it. His mother would not stop trying to break them up. He has no choice but to grieve their love, alone, quietly.
His only self-indulgence, selfishly written, is to hope that Jiu will miss him, as much as Tian will miss him. Every day, every minute, until he becomes numb to the pain. He wonders if one day he will be able to breathe without feeling like he is drowning. He wonders if Jiu will fall in love again and forget him.
There is no place in this world for the two of them, but for Tian there will never be anyone else.
“Parting is better than death”
Jiu is dead.
Tian cannot hear Yang calling his name, cannot see Fu and Mei crying on the bed. Cannot see the worried looks Pin throws his way.
Jiu is dead.
It’s strange how one processes such information. It hits you like a tidal wave, crashing down and making the world disappear, in a blur. It hits you slowly, because how could it be possible. And then when both rhythms finally align, there is only pain left.
Jiu is dead.
Tian doesn’t remember walking away, leaving the room. His legs automatically carry him to the front steps. At some point, he sits downs. He knows he is crying. His breath becomes erratic and he’s struggling, gulping air like he’s drowning. The pain is excruciating, each cell of his body screaming, every corner of his mind bleeding. He never knew one could feel such pain, yet no wound could be seen.
Jiu is dead.
His love. The man who brought light to his heart, who held his hand proudly and looked at him with promises in his eyes. Jiu. How. How can Jiu be gone? It feels unreal, unacceptable. Jiu was supposed to be safe, to live away from Tian and his problems, from the bloody tangled web of his family.
Jiu’s rose. Crafted with care, like everything Jiu did. Always so careful, so focused. His hands on Tian were the same, confident yet shaking slightly, like he couldn’t believe he was allowed to touch Tian. He held him preciously, with a tenderness that tugged at Tian’s heart. Jiu. Jiu and his warm hands. Jiu. Jiu and his smile, making his face looks so bright and young. Jiu. Jiu concentrating on his study, tracing each character slowly, until each line and loop are correct. Jiu.
Tian’s ears are filled with static sounds, yet he doesn’t make a noise. Holding onto himself, arms squeezing his sides, he sobs, quietly.
The last time he saw Jiu, he was pushing him away. Denying him an explanation. Refusing his touch. The last time he saw Jiu, he let people attack him and track him out of his house. He did not hug him. He did not kiss him. He did not tell him he loved him. He did not listen to him.
The last thing he heard from Jiu was his letter, the last thing Jiu heard from him was his refusal to meet him. They didn’t meet after that, they never looked at each other again without people screaming around them, just the two of them. No matter how irrational it seems, no matter if he told him in his letter how he felt, it is not the same. The thought is suffocating him. The last words Tian told Jiu were not of love. The last words Tian wrote him were a goodbye.
Jiu is gone. And Tian did not hug him.
Death, so much death around him. He brought chaos into everyone’s lives with his secret, with his love. Jiu was supposed to be safe. Tian let him go, he was ready to pay the price of duty if that meant pacifying his family and the reassurance of Jiu living away, free from the burden of Tian’s unescapable responsibilities.
Jiu is dead.
Tian’s tears keep running and he stares into the void, lost in his suffering and his torturing thoughts.
He once asked Jiu to make him his choice.
In the end, Jiu died thinking he wasn’t Tian’s choice.