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It happened at the Blue Moon, as things in Sandrock tended to. It was the busiest place in town every hour of the day, most days. But this was different than the usual hubbub of the day - in fact, it was the quiet early hours of the night. Qi had finished a session of feverent work that had kept him from taking the time for a proper meal for over a day, so he broke routine to get some food now that the project was completed. Grace served him, saying (very optimistically, in his opinion) that, "Milk Chestnut is a piece of cake. Won't even need Owen to make it."
He watched Owen as he cleaned the counter. He kept looking towards the door, expectantly. Waiting for something. Nobody else was around, with Grace in the kitchen... The front door burst open, and his friend, the builder, rushed in. "I'm sorry I'm late, Wei had some last minute stuff he needed for the shipment to Lucien tomorrow."
"It's no problem, you're already doing me a big favor here. Erm... so how should I begin?" He wasn't a gossip, nor did he usually find interpersonal things like this interesting, but something in how the cook said that had his attention.
They smiled at him encouragingly. "Say whatever you feel is best."
Owen looked down at the bar, then back up at his company sitting across it. "I... I think you're really great. I want to get to know you better." His face was turning red... this couldn't be a...? "Would you like to go out on a date with me...?" It was. He suddenly felt like he needed to leave. Grace hadn't yet brought out the food, but did he really want it anyway? He set down the gols for the meal and shuffled out, looking over his shoulder just in time to see them put a hand on their chest, smiling.
He felt sick. When the doors swung shut, he swallowed a deep breath and started making his way back to the research center. Since when had he started sitting down for meals, anyhow...?
They came by that night as he was tuning the telescope to try and get a better look at a planet in the solar system - he'd read an old world document on it once that stated it had some kind of great, permanent, and stationary meteorological phenomenon on its visible side, and wanted to know if that was still the case. He'd been looking at distant stars before, so the lens was very out of focus for such a relatively near celestial body.
They joined him on the rooftop as he was finally able to glimpse the bright yellow-white edge of the planet's atmosphere, but the focus was still far too distant - the spot was a blurry mess at least twice the apparent size of what it actually should be. He focused on his task, and not on the way they were examining him. Finer adjustments would be necessary.
He couldn't figure out what he wanted to say to them. Or even if he wanted to say anything at all. They hadn't done anything wrong, and yet he was still... hurting. And it wouldn't fit into any of the places he normally stored unproductive emotions - too big to be dismissed as annoyance, too heavy to be mere frustration. So he didn't say anything at all.
"Is something... wrong, Qi?"
He studied the second focusing knob on the telescope. "Empirically speaking, if there is something wrong, it must be you." He adjusted the knob slightly, peering through the eyepiece of the telescope. The focus was still too distant, but he could at least see splotches of color which might be the planet's thicker atmospheric bands. "As I do this routine every day."
He didn't meet their eyes. If he did, he was sure his own would betray the true meaning of his statement: they had changed him in some irrecoverable way, some chemical change - the sort of thing that could never be reversed. They had remade him, and they had done so in a way that was deeply, glaringly incorrect. They had made him care. About all of this. Sandrock, botany, chemistry (and not the kind he preferred - this kind was unsettlingly biological in nature). About them.
He cared. And that could never, ever be enough.
They left before his eye left the eyepiece of the telescope. He looked at the space they'd previously occupied, and he ached. But it was better this way.
He thought that was the last he'd see of them, beyond the necessary meetings at town hall when something in Sandrock needed the eyes of science and the hands of a particularly skilled Builder. And for some time, it was. They only made requests of him through the machine when he wasn't around, and he only submitted the results through the mail in the early hours of the morning when he was the only person awake in all of Sandrock.
...It was easy, not seeing them. He didn't have to change anything about his schedule. He didn't even hurt about it after a while, unless he thought about it. While his productivity had experienced an initial reduction, it had increased over the previous weeks - it was now five percent higher than it had been before the event. He worked harder, leaving the research center less and less. And he kept not seeing them.
This pattern was interrupted one Sunday, more than a season later. Not that he was keeping count. They entered the research center, looked at him, and went over to the machine. Something they needed too much to wait for one of the (now rare) times he left the research center? He focused on the paper in front of him. He'd asked Mint to request his partner grind a new lens for the telescope - the (now rare) sandstorms had begun leaving small abrasions on the glass. But the Commerce Guild commissioner in Portia had requested he write a letter for file about why he couldn't go through the Sandrock Commerce Guild - apparently, since the arrest of former commissioner Yan, they were occasionally audited for efficiency.
The only Builder Wei would give such a delicate project to was - was standing right behind him. He focused on the pen in his hand. They were reading over his shoulder, very obviously. He felt like he was in high school again, his teacher reading his work as they paced the classroom. He continued writing, every single word a misrepresentation of the truth.
Commissioner,
I do not believe the Guild in Sandrock is equipped to deal with such delicate work. Additionally, they are very busy with improvements around town, and may not have time for my commission before the passing of a distant asteroid I'd like to observe in approximately a season and two days from the date of writing.
Mint informs me that your Guild is among the best in the Alliance, with several immensely skilled builders, and Portia's state of development is more progressed than Sandrock's, meaning they may have more available time. This is a very important commission to me, and my specifications are quite exact - I do not want to rush them or divide their time. While this is something the Sandrock Commerce Guild could do for me, I feel it might put an unmanageable and unnecessary burden on the commissioner and the builder who accepts the commission.
Best regards,
Director Qi Heng
Sandrock Research Center
This wasn't all a lie, per se, but it was very much a misrepresentation. Yes, Sandrock's Guild was very busy compared to Portia's, and yes, he did not want a rushed product. But he knew Wei and... someone else would provide a flawless finished piece. He simply didn't want his most prized possession to bear their fingerprints on the inside, where he couldn't compulsively wipe them away.
Even if they weren't visible, he'd know they were there.
He was torn between allowing them to read the letter (and understand what he was writing it for) and acknowledging their presence by blocking their view or asking them to leave or something. They took that choice from him, though. "Your given name is Heng?"
It sounded different when they said it. Perhaps some sort of pronunciation issue he couldn't identify. "Yes. Did you need something?"
He heard them take a breath, and then his chair was spinning until he faced them. "Yes. We need to talk, Qi. Badly." They looked upset, now that he was being forced to face them. He looked down at his knees.
"I'm... sorry. No, that's not right - I don't know what I did, so I can't be sorry for doing it - but I am sorry that whatever it was happened."
How could he ever explain why he didn't want to see them? He didn't want their apology. He didn't want them to feel bad, or miss him. Qi would greatly prefer if they were happy, actually. That ache started again, replacing the hollow feeling he had gotten so used to. He had thought they were happy. So he said the only thing that came to mind. "You didn't do anything wrong."
He couldn't tell what they felt about this. Their expression changed too quickly for him to even take a crack at interpreting it. "Wh-What do you mean?" They seemed to settle on being confused. It wasn't the worst possible outcome.
He'd have to change tactics, then. "You didn't do anything wrong. You have nothing to apologize for. You know I'm callous and dismissive by nature." That should be enough to repel them without making them feel too awful.
Again, their shifting expressions flew by too quickly to be processed. Their brows pushed together, and their mouth set. "Not this time." Frustration permeated the air around them, so heavy he could feel it. "We are talking about this, Qi. Right now. You pushing me away isn't going to work unless you can bring yourself to really hurt me." The bull-headed determination in their eyes, the set of their jaw, suggested he had absolutely nothing to work with here.
Because he couldn't do it. Love - because that's what it was, he'd figured that out the day the event happened - had declawed him, made him toothless. Even when they all but commanded him to hurt them, he couldn't do it. They took his silence as the admission of defeat that it was. "What is it, then? What changed?"
He felt the weight of their gaze. "I... can't explain it to you. But I have my reasons. Please trust that." He had no right to ask for their trust. The ache was growing with every accelerated beat of his heart, worse than it had ever been. They cared about him, and he couldn't do anything but shove them away, appealing even to their sense of friendship.
This was so much harder to come back from. He didn't blame Owen - Who wouldn't fall in love with them, having known them for even a short while? - but he gave himself no such grace. He should have known. He should have recognized the signs. And he should never have let these feelings grow into what they had become. "I don't believe you. Do you think I'm stupid?"
"N-No."
"Then why are you lying, Qi?" They were tearing up. Oh, maker. He made them cry. "Why can't we be friends...? Just tell me."
He watched them fight their tears for a moment before hanging his head again. "I'm sorry. It's my fault and my responsibility, you should not feel... upset because of me."
They looked at him through teary eyes, eyebrows drawing together again. "So you won't be friends with me because of something... you did...? Don't I get to make that call?"
"It's... easier this way. I should never have allowed an indication of my true feelings to escape, but I can't be your friend right now. It wouldn't be... productive."
"Must everything be 'productive?' Isn't it enough sometimes for something to ... never mind. I think it's best I leave."
It was horribly selfish of him to do what he was about to do, but he couldn't stop himself. He caught their hand as they turned away, stopping them short. "Please don't go for good. I... just need more time, then it'll be better again. I'll be able to be a good friend again, you have my word. You can leave, but please don't leave forever."
They looked at him for a long moment, gaze hard and unforgiving... and then it softened. They dropped his hand, but he could see the shift in their heart even with his unpracticed eyes. "... I don't know what's making you act this way. But I will find out when I come back, Qi. I won't forgive you for treating me like this without knowing why."
"Okay. I owe you that."
He should have known his willpower would crumble long before his feelings did. They'd put down roots deeper than he could spare the time to dig, so he hadn't been able to root them out yet when his resolve cracked. Before dawn, he was out, putting a letter in their mailbox in the research center's characteristic blue envelope. There were so many other letters in there already... everyone seemed to want some of their time.
He was lucky they were even giving him this chance. He'd barely lasted a week since their last conversation, the end of the season's lull having left him more time to think than he would have preferred. He hadn't figured out what he was going to say to them about his absence yet. Certainly not the truth. It didn't matter though, not really. He... missed them.
He walked back to the research center. He wouldn't be upset if they didn't get around to him today. Nonetheless, he had a certain spring in his step at the thought of seeing them again, of talking to them. His traitorous heart soared thinking about them asking to spend time with him again, as unlikely as that probably was.
He had just cleared off his desk and was putting away the relics that had been on it when a startling metallic thud echoed through the research center. He set the box of relics on the shelf and turned to the noise - nobody visited this early, usually...
They were there, out of breath. They must have read his letter and run straight here... had they not read the others in favor of seeing him? He felt a little happy about that...
They approached him wordlessly, crossing their arms when they stopped in front of him. They waited for an explanation, and everything in their stance was a challenge apparent even to him. He... wasn't ready. He hadn't figured out what to say. The silence stretched out until it was unbearable, and they shook their head and turned to go. He had a feeling that, even should he at a later date manage something, there would be a permanent stain on their relationship if he didn't say something right now. So he said the only thing he could think of when he was looking at them. The truth. "I'm in love with you!" He barely resisted the urge to slap a hand over his mouth. What was that supposed to be?
The froze, not even turning back to him - he circled around their front. He's already said it, now he had to commit. "I know. I shouldn't be - I didn't even want to tell you, but I... wouldn't be able to handle hurting you like that again." He laughed and sounded a little hysterical even to himself. "I'm trying to get over it, I promise, I don't want to disrupt your... well, I don't want to bother you about it. That's not what this is. I'm... explaining why I needed time away."
"What are you saying?" The low tone in their voice made him hesitate, but only for a moment. It would be worse if they thought he was lying here.
"I saw Owen asking you out and it... distressed me. I didn't know why until after I left and cleared my mind sufficiently... I was in love with you, and likely had been for some time." He looked down at his shoes. "When you came by that night, I couldn't look at you without hurting, and... when you asked me if something was wrong... something was. And I lashed out at you for something that was my fault. I... owed you an apology, and yet I avoided you for so long. Because I couldn't stop... regretting." After admitting this, strangely enough, he felt a little less guilty. He looked back up, trying to see how they felt about what he'd said.
They looked... confused, he thought. It was probably pretty unbelievable to them that emotions-averse Qi was just admitting this to them. But he, despite trying his best to be cold, did not have a heart of stone. If he did, he was sure they'd have turned it to magma by now. They simply stared at him, as though trying to psychically pull the answers they sought from his brain.
He took a deep breath. They weren't leaving just yet, he had time to make his case. "I'm not looking to disturb your relationship, I must reiterate. Given time, I'm sure we'll be able to put this... messy business behind us. Assuming you're... open to remaining friends with me?"
"Qi... I have no earthly idea what you're talking about." They seemed to have recovered their composure somewhat. "Where did Owen even come into this...? I don't... wait."
And then they started to laugh. They laughed until they snorted and coughed, and then laughed a little more. He (unproductively) thought it was... cute. It didn't sound mocking. He figured they'd tell him what was funny when they recovered.
And so they did. They sat down in his desk chair, the only one on the bottom floor of the research center, out of breath from their sudden burst of good humor. "So, to ensure we're on the same page... let's recap. Firstly, Owen and I are... together. True?"
"...yes, despite how I would prefer it not be so."
They shook their head. "Nah. I was helping him with something. I remember the conversation you're talking about - it didn't occur to me before, because I forgot about basically everything else that happened that day after the rooftop meeting."
He trusted them, yes, but that didn't make any sense. "What could you have been helping him with that required him to ask you on a date?"
"I was helping him practice asking Amirah on a date. He felt like he wouldn't 'do it right,' so I was critiquing his technique. As though technique matters in situations like that... whatever eases his anxiety about it, though, will matter... whenever he actually manages to do it."
He felt his brain grind to a halt before resuming with a rattling befitting an ancient motor of some kind, not the finely-tuned machine it was. "... practice...?"
"Yes." They nodded. "Secondly, I'm angry with you for your... departure. True?"
"You must be. How could you not be?" He recognized that they were tripping him up with these questions, but he couldn't see how this one could be anything but true.
Their lips pulled up into a wan smile. "I'm not angry with you, Qi. I'm... sad. I felt... like you didn't care. That's why I came by the other day - I wanted to see if you were affected at all. That's when I realized my mistake in not coming earlier." They stood back up, stepping closer to him. "Your eyes are shadowed, and you look so pale. So thin. But I knew I couldn't force you to be my friend again, and if you weren't my friend I couldn't encourage you to live healthier, so instead..." They looked a bit sheepish. "I may have contacted Mint. You should expect him to drop by in a few days..."
"Oh..." He was feeling the regret already. Firstly, he hadn't spoken to them in more than a season over a stupid misunderstanding... then, their first conversation, he had blurted out that he was in love with them. At least their reaction to that had been mild, so far. A sliver of satisfaction buried itself into his chest, nonetheless, pleased that they weren't with Owen, regardless of their relationship with him. Sometimes, it really was the small things in life.
"The last question. I don't harbor any potentially romantic affection for you in return. True?"
The phrasing of this caused a peculiar feeling to start spreading through him. His heart pounded in his ears, his face reddened. His hands shook, so he clenched them at his sides. "True. Surely." Was this what hope felt like?
"False." They moved in closer. "Why do you think it upset me so much that you didn't want to talk all the time anymore? Sure, it would smart to lose a friend, but I have a plenty of friends. Though each of you is irreplaceable, I could easily distract myself with social interaction until it didn't really hurt anymore. But there is only one person who interests me like you, Qi... I had assumed the feeling was mutual and it would happen eventually, but after that night I thought maybe 'you're the problem' meant you had figured me out. And didn't like what you found."
They were right in front of him now. "You... knew? No - you suspected about my feelings?"
"Sometimes you say things that might be construed as... flirty." His look must have been skeptical, because they continued with the fervor of a grad student defending a thesis. "The first time I considered that possibility was one of the last sandstorms we had before the Outback was done. You said, 'Sandstorms have very little impact on my work. In fact, currently, you are far more distracting than the weather.' Your tone was dismissive, but you kept looking over at me like you meant it. We didn't know each other very personally, then, but it inspired me to make more of an effort with you."
The sad thing was, he was nearly certain he was already in love with them then. He'd probably developed the beginnings of affection when they built the Mobile Suit to his precise specifications, just weeks after arriving in Sandrock, and it had only progressed from there. They pressed on, "And once we became closer, you warmed up to me very quickly. I felt like you might have a crush, which... was fine by me, because I thought you were cute."
He blushed. "A crush?"
"Yeah. And watching you talk about the things you love made me get one too. It's your fault, you know, so you should take responsibility." Their smile told him obviously that they were playing. "I started looking forward to walking up that giant hill to come see the dorkiest guy I've ever met because he got excited about the stars the same way I do. Until I was doing it every day, multiple times a day, until I couldn't really look at anything without considering whether you had use for it or not. You could say my feelings... progressed."
"So... you...?"
They looked away. "You could say that I... love you too, I suppose... i-if you wanted to... I missed you so bad, you know? You're still not off the hook." Something they said indicated his sentence would be light. Probably the part about being in love with him. "You owe me a hug and a date later today. Alright?"
"More than fair ruling, your honor."
"I'm just glad you'll be around again, more than anything. But next time you're hurting... just tell me about it. Ask! We could have been going on dates a season ago if you had."
He was grateful they were so willing to forgive and forget so major a misunderstanding. To prevent further ones, he had to ask something first. "Um... so, are we... I mean... am I your...?"
"Boyfriend? I'd like you to be."
How were they so smooth about that?! He could feel his pulse in his ears again. Ah, he'd really have to cut back on caffeine if they were going to be acting like this around him... "Ye-Yes! I'd like that."
"So it's settled. Okay, so... where's that hug you owe me, mister?" They held out their arms, and when he stepped into their embrace, he began to feel like all was right in the world again. The feeling would continue long after they let him go - mostly because they were never more than a, 'I require physical reassurance' away from pulling him in for another one.