Chapter Text
Shi Qingxuan was six years old when they drowned.
The details have gotten murky as the years went by. There was a beach trip- that much they knew for sure. But when they prod further, there’s only flashes of memory they can grasp like silver minnows darting through rippling water: sandcastles built with colorful buckets and spades, practicing writing their characters in the sands with a stick, searching for mole crabs in their little burrows. The sun seemed brighter those days, the sky bluer. There wasn’t yet the doom and gloom of adulthood contaminating the world around them.
Their parents had lectured them in great detail of what they could and couldn’t do while rubbing sunscreen on their cheeks and nose. Don’t go in the water. Don’t leave the line of sight of Mom and Dad. Don’t talk to any strangers. Don’t, don’t, don’t. Not enough do’s.
They’d never been a very good listener.
Dad had fallen asleep, and Mom was reading whatever romance novel she’d picked from the sale rack that week. What they didn’t know wouldn’t kill them. Shi Qingxuan set down their pail filled with mole crabs whizzing around the shallow water inside and teetered their way to where the ebbing and flowing waves crashed against the sand.
Shi Qingxuan hesitated when the tide was close enough for saltwater to trickle over their toes with each roll of the waves.
(Why was there such a heavy pit in their stomach?)
The chill of the ocean didn’t quite hit until they were up to their hips. A violent shiver made its way up their spine.
(They always remember that detail: the water was cold. So cold.)
There was still that lingering heat, the sun beating down uncomfortably on their exposed shoulders, so they waded out into the water until their feet couldn’t skim across the ocean floor with their chin above water.
Mom and Dad had taught them to swim the summer before, by taking them to the lake near their home and throwing them off the pier until they finally figured out how to keep their head above water by kicking their stubby legs and paddling awkwardly with their twisted arm. The water had been gentler there, surrounding Shi Qingxuan like an old friend as it lapped up against their body and swirled around them.
Shi Qingxuan had spent most of that summer swimming. They felt strange when they were away from the water. Longing, maybe. Like something was calling them back in. Many afternoons were spent with their feet in the water and the lake breeze in their hair.
The ocean wasn’t so kind.
If the lake had been a friend, the ocean was a bully. It pushed and pulled, dragging Shi Qingxuan wherever it pleased and pummeling them into submission. Every swell forced Shi Qingxuan’s head underwater and left them spluttering for air when they resurfaced, only to be yanked back under a few moments later. They had thought they were a good swimmer, all things considered, but they’re not able to fight against the current as it starts to take them further from the shore.
And further.
And further.
No amount of swimming was making the shore come any closer.
Shi Qingxuan couldn’t keep their head above water long enough to scream for help. But even if they could, it was pointless. The people on the beach were no more than specks of color against the vast expanse of sand. They couldn’t pick out their parents, too far away to make out which umbrella belonged to them.
Soon enough, their limbs burned from exertion. They spent more time with their head underwater than above. Their bad arm started to fail, and their good arm wasn’t strong enough to compensate. With one last struggle, their limbs gave out and they started to sink.
(It had been a rip tide, Shi Qingxuan would later find out. They had never stood a chance.)
They’d lived a life so simple, sheltered from the outside world. A treasure stowed away where no one could see. They’d never known hunger, or thirst, or pain. The worst things in their life were early bedtimes and no dessert until they finished all their peas.
They learned real fear that day.
Terror gripped at their throat. Terror unlike anything they’ve ever felt before.
Shi Qingxuan still thrashed and struggled and fought, still opened their mouth to scream. But their limbs dragged through the water like they were stuck in mud, and saltwater rushed down their throat and snuffed out what little oxygen was still left. Their lungs were on fire, which made no sense with how full they were with water. Shi Qingxuan clawed at their neck weakly, tears flowing from their eyes and mixing with the ocean around them. They couldn’t even really be sure they were crying, but Shi Qingxuan cried at almost everything, so it only made sense.
They were dying.
It was a word they still didn’t quite grasp. Dying was when Shi Quingxuan’s pet bird stopped singing one day while she laid at the bottom of her cage, and Mom and Dad explained that she wouldn’t be around anymore. Dying was when Mom’s plants got brittle and brown and no amount of care would bring them back. Dying was when their parents dressed them in all black and took them to a place where their grandmother was lying in a box- one that would be lowered into the earth. Dying was street cats getting hit by cars and ants squished under their shoe and someone leaving one day but never coming back. Dying, as far as Shi Qingxuan could really understand, was disappearing forever.
They didn’t want to disappear.
I’m going to die.
The depths of the ocean all around them were dark and foreboding, but when they tilted their head up to look at the surface between the black specks dotting their vision, the sun was shining through and casting beams of light around them. Vaguely, it reminded him of his Dad shining a flashlight in their closet, chasing away the monsters that resided inside.
I’m going to die.
A sense of calm settled over them as they sank lower, and lower, and lower. If they stopped thinking for a moment, the water surrounding them wasn’t too unlike a hug from their mom.
I’m going to die.
Shi Qingxuan closed their eyes and stopped fighting.
Dream on.
-
The next time they woke up was on the seashore, surrounded by people who all seemed very worried. Mom was sobbing into her hands. Dad was talking loudly and gesturing wildly with his arms. Someone was hurting them- or, no, wait, they were doing CPR, but it felt like their ribs were being crushed with each push into their chest.
Shi Qingxuan sputtered and coughed up what felt like an entire ocean’s worth of water, but they were alive.
-
Maybe it’s strange that Shi Qingxuan decides to live so close to the beach. After all, hadn’t they spent their whole life avoiding the ocean? Even now they can’t even go near a pool without giving it a large berth and eying it carefully, as if the water might reach up at any moment and pull them under. Whatever comfort they had once felt around water has long since left them, replaced with a deep fear of drowning and a strong respect for nature.
But they wound up in the fishing town with empty pockets, an emptier feeling in their chest, and no one to turn to, so it’s as good a place as any to settle down.
It’s about the same time of year they almost drowned, if they think about it (which they really would prefer not to). Summer is coming to an end, with autumn just on its heels. The heavy weight of the humidity in the air is still present, and the sun still beats down in a way that’s almost oppressive, but every now and then there’s a slight reprieve.
Today, unfortunately, is not one of those days.
It figures that only a month into their lease, Shi Qingxuan’s air conditioner decided to kick the bucket.
They’d finally saved enough money from an assortment of odd jobs to put down a down payment on an apartment and get the hell away from the shelter they’d been living in. Their new place wasn’t exactly anything to brag about: a single room, a sink with a counter just big enough to fit a hot plate, a window overlooking an alleyway that probably saw a fair share of illegal activities, and a communal bathroom that had seen much better days. But it was theirs. Even if they could touch both ends of the room with their arms stretched out, it was their room brushing against their fingertips.
…Their room that no longer has an A/C, which was not ideal with the heatwave that had made itself known earlier that week.
Shi Qingxuan groans, kicking the covers fully off their bed once and for all. It was getting unbearable having them brush against their body. The little movement is enough to exert what was left of their energy. Shi Qingxuan’s leg is stuck out at an awkward angle, unable to move it back on top of the mattress.
The ceiling fan overhead is the only thing keeping Shi Qingxuan’s sanity from snapping entirely. It’s a bit lopsided, and it had rattled dangerously when Shi Qingxuan tried it at its highest setting, so they’re stuck with its lazy rotations. With each cycle came a click. Click, click, click.
Even though Shi Qingxuan is only wearing a tank top and underwear, and even though they’re laying with their limbs splayed out to get as much surface area contact with the mattress as possible, they’re still miserable. They’re pretty sure if they spent any more time in bed, their sweat would glue them to the mattress and hold them hostage in the apartment until they died of heatstroke. It would be just their luck to be found in such a terrible state. They can already imagine their tombstone: Here lies Shi Qingxuan, who died in their own apartment because their landlord was too cheap and too lazy to replace the A/C unit. It’s not the best way to go out, but at least it would be memorable.
It’s still dark outside when Shi Qingxuan looks out the window. Their phone is across the room, charging on the only available outlet left in the room, but they didn’t need to check the time to know it was still too early to go to work.
But they also couldn’t stand being in their apartment any longer. Not when the humidity was bad enough that Shi Qingxuan could cut through the air with a knife and the heat was about to cook them from the inside out.
Mustering up what little strength they had left, Shi Qingxuan rolls out of bed and onto the floor with a grunt. Thankfully, the distance to the ground isn’t too bad since their bed isn’t more than just a used mattress they bought off an online marketplace. Shi Qingxuan gropes around in the dark for their crutch until their fingers brush against cool metal. Using the wall for additional support, they get up and start their day a few hours too early.
At the very least, the communal bathroom is empty this early in the morning. And it actually has hot water for once. Shi Qingxuan relishes in the rare commodity for as long as they can, their skin a bright shade of red and their fingertips pruned by the time they finally shut off the shower.
They’re drying their hair off with a fraying, holey towel when something catches their eye. Shi Qingxuan’s hands pause on top of their head as they turn to look into the mirror on the wall. It has a long crack going through the center of it, but when Shi Qingxuan wipes the condensation away from its surface, its reflection is still clear enough to rattle them. They let the towel fall to their shoulders as they take a step closer.
There was once a time, long ago, when Shi Qingxuan religiously kept up with their appearance. Frequent trips to the hairdresser, all the most expensive skin products in their medicine cabinet, and a walk-in closet packed as tight as possible with an assortment of clothes for every possible occasion. They like to think that they’d been beautiful back then. Heads would turn when Shi Qingxuan walked by. People would ask what they used for their makeup or where they got their shirt, and Shi Qingxuan would preen under the praise and happily make a new friend to share all their secrets with.
Now, though…
Time hasn’t exactly been kind. Hesitantly, like they didn’t believe the mirror, Shi Qingxuan raises a hand and touches the side of their face tenderly. It’s thinner than it had been when Shi Qingxuan would apply blush to their cheeks with a delicate hand every morning. Eyes that used to be framed with graphic eyeliner are sunken in and rimmed with dark circles. The hair that had been soft as downy feathers hangs around their face limply as if they’re a wet dog.
Quite frankly, they look like shit.
Shi Qingxuan sighs. They aren’t sure what they’d been expecting. One doesn’t survive their time living on the streets without looking at least a little bit fucked up.
They’re still combing their hair with their fingers when they get back to their apartment. Shi Qingxuan bends down to the floor and picks up their phone from its charger to check the time, flicking back a damp chunk of hair as it falls into their eyes. 6:13. Normally, they’d be grateful for time to kill- god knows it’s hard to come by with their full time job- but not when it’s right before their shift.
They consider staying in their apartment.
Click, click, click, the fan reminds them helpfully that they should probably consider other options.
-
Everything Shi Qingxuan considers important to them is stuffed into their messenger bag: a wallet that’s falling apart at the seams, their bus pass, their flip phone, and the one year chip they’d gotten the last time they went to an AA meeting. They clutch their bag tight to their chest as they step off of the bus, as if the bus driver or the only other passenger onboard- an elderly man asleep with his cheek pressed against the window- might rip it from their hands as they’re passing by. It’s happened before.
It’s a short walk to the beach from the bus stop. Really, it’s a short walk from anywhere in the little town. Shi Qingxuan can hear the ocean no matter where they go, as if it’s calling them to come back in. It’s not as if they haven’t considered it before. They have dreams sometimes of a voice calling out to them from the depths. They would wade into the dark water with all their clothes on, walking forward until their feet can’t touch the bottom and continuing on even then. Eventually, the ocean would swallow them whole. But still, they’d hear the soft sound of their name, and they’d sink, and sink, and sink and the voice would get louder, and louder, and louder as the world disappeared around them in a black void of nothingness-
They shake the memory from their mind. When their head clears, there’s no sound but the waves crashing against the shore and gulls crying out overhead.
Shi Qingxuan makes their way to the wooden boardwalk that starts at the sidewalk and traverses the length of the rocky beach. The boards haven’t been replaced in some time, so they have to be careful not to step on planks that have long since rotted from the constant sea breeze and the harsh elements.
At the end of the path is a set of stairs that lead down to the sand. Beyond that, the ocean.
Shi Qingxuan sets their crutch to the side and carefully maneuvers down into a sit on the top step. They pull their legs to their chest and rest their chin on their knees. It’s still hot outside, but the wind coming off the water makes it tolerable.
As strange as it may be considering their past, Shi Qingxuan finds themselves drawn to the beach from time to time. It’s calmer out here. Easier to think. Things don’t seem larger than life when staring at the expanse of the sea in front of them.
But they never quite make it past the stairs. If there’s something that’s calling out to them from the ocean, then there’s also something that’s keeping Shi Qingxuan anchored to dry land. Any time they think of nearing the water, something catches in their throat and their hands shake until they’re far, far away.
Shi Qingxuan sets the toe of their sneaker in the sand in front of the steps. They will their heart to stop beating so fast.
They’d been given a therapist in rehab. One that wore a pair of glasses low on her nose with a beaded chain looped around her neck. She’d twist it between her fingers when she talked to Shi Qingxuan. When they couldn’t meet her eyes, they would watch the light catch on the glasses chain like it held all the answers to the universe.
“What are you searching for?” she asked during one of their sessions- one of the less pretty ones, where Shi Qingxuan would find themselves with their face buried in their hands and tears threatening to spill from their eyes. They were so, so tired. “What hole are you trying to fill?”
The one that’s always been there.
“What are you so scared of?”
Living long enough to figure out what will fill it.
Shi Qingxuan was six years old when they drowned.
But they aren’t six anymore. They had managed to fall to their lowest point and claw their way back up. They have a job. They have an apartment. Why should they still be scared of the ocean? They might have almost died in the water, but they almost died on land, too. More times than they can count. There’s so many more things to be afraid of.
Slowly, Shi Qingxuan uses their crutch to get back on their feet.
When they take their first step forward, their crutch sinks into the sand. Realistically, Shi Qingxuan should have been expecting this- it’s the fucking beach, after all. Still, they stumble and just barely catch themselves before they fall on their face.
“This is stupid,” Shi Qingxuan mutters to themselves. Because, facing your fears or whatever. It’s not like they should be in bed right now, cozy and asleep with a working air conditioning unit blowing on them.
There’s no one else on the beach as they approach the ocean. They’d been expecting someone else to be out there- a homeless person, maybe a jogger to keep them company. But it’s just Shi Qingxuan alone with their thoughts.
They’re close enough now that the waves lap at the sand just in front of their feet.
I’m not afraid.
Shi Qingxuan takes a step.
I’m not afraid.
With a deep breath, they drift forward just a bit more, until the water grazes under the sole of their shoes.
“I’m not afraid,” Shi Qingxuan says softly, for just them and the ocean to hear. “Not anymore.”
Their heart is pounding, blood roaring in their ears. They look out at the dark expanse of water in front of them, but… nothing happens. The waves don’t suddenly try to challenge them and pull them out to sea like they had all those years ago. No monster flies out of the water and eats them whole. There’s just the water pooling around their feet, soaking through the canvas material of their sneakers and getting their socks wet. Shi Qingxuan feels stupid.
What exactly had they expected? A response? From the ocean?
“What did you just say?”
Shi Qingxuan practically jumps out of their skin at the voice. Instinctively, they hold their bag tight to their side under their arm and grip their crutch with both hands as they whirl around to face whoever it is that snuck up on them. They might not be able to get away very quickly, but Shi Qingxuan is fairly certain they can beat someone over the head with enough force to give them time to escape-
They come face to face with a man who looks like he’s seen a ghost.
Everything about him is dark: dark hair, dark clothes, dark expression on his face. Shi Qingxuan isn’t entirely sure how he was able to get so close without tipping them off, because he’s wearing a couple of chains around his waist and a few pairs of earrings that clink together when he moves his head. Around his neck is a golden pendant in the shape of a lock that Shi Qingxuan feels… oddly drawn to.
It takes a minute for Shi Qingxuan to realize they’ve been asked a question- until the man tilts his head to one side.
“I’m…” Shi Qingxuan blinks, completely taken aback by how serious this guy looks down at him. “I’m not… afraid…” His gaze is really intense, like two shards of ice piercing through them. Shi Qingxuan has a strange feeling that he’s holding onto their every word like they hold some sort of significance to him. Weird.
“I’m… afraid I didn’t hear you come up to me!” Shi Qingxuan laughs nervously. “I thought I was all alone out here. Since it’s still dark out, you know?” They gesture vaguely with one hand. “Do you often come out here this early in the morning?”
The man stares at them for a long moment. “No.” His gaze sweeps from the top of Shi Qingxuan’s head down to their scuffed sneakers. They suddenly feel extremely self-conscious in the face of a total stranger. “Do you?”
Is he sizing them up? Maybe he’s planning to mug them. Shi Qingxuan’s gaze darts to the road where they came from. There’s no one around in case they need help. Beating over the head with the crutch it is, then. If the man notices them looking for an exit, he doesn’t say anything.
“Ah, no, not usually,” Shi Qingxuan admits. “I couldn’t sleep, so I figured I’d find somewhere to pass the time until my shift, ha ha.” They scratch the back of their head vacantly as they steal another glance at the man. Again, only homeless people and joggers are out this time of day. And… possibly a third category that Shi Qingxuan hadn’t considered before: creeps. So which one is this guy?
Although, to be fair, which category is Shi Qingxuan in? Maybe there’s a fourth one: people who need to find a better landlord.
The man gives them a strange look, nose wrinkling just a tad. “What?” Shi Qingxuan asks defensively.
“You’re getting your shoes wet,” he points out.
“Oh!” Shi Qingxuan stumbles away from the waves. They aren’t ready this time when their crutch sinks in the sand, and they start to fall forward. The man immediately shoots a hand out to catch them by the arm. His grip is gentle as he helps Shi Qingxuan straighten back up on their crutch, and his fingers linger on their bicep for just a moment too long. As if he realized his mistake, he jerks his hand back like he’s been burned.
Shi Qingxuan would thank him if they weren’t so unnerved. Something is telling them to run far, far away- to put as much distance between them and this guy as possible.
But there’s another part of them that keeps them rooted to the ground. The same part of them that lets their gaze drift to the guy’s necklace again. It leaves an uncomfortable itch at the back of their head, one that only gets worse the longer they stare at it. Like something is trying to dig its way into their brain. Like they had seen that necklace in a dream they had a long, long time ago that’s begging to resurface-
They must have been staring at it for too long, because the man suddenly tucks the pendant into the collar of his shirt. With it, the itch subsides for now.
“You…” the man starts. Shi Qingxuan looks back up at his face. His expression is complicated, almost like he’s in pain. “What’s your name?”
“What’s yours?” they challenge instead.
His expression twists more. “It’s…” He pauses for a long time- long enough for Shi Qingxuan to raise their eyebrows. Is it really that hard? Maybe he’s finally regretting his decision to strike up a conversation with a stranger he found standing on the beach at seven in the morning. “Ming Yi,” he finally answers.
“Ming Yi,” Shi Qingxuan repeats, trying out the name for themselves.
It doesn’t fit him very well.
“I’m Shi Qingxuan.” They manage a smile despite the strangeness of it all, sticking their hand out to shake.
If they didn’t know any better, they’d think Ming Yi turns a shade greener. His lips part as if to say something, only to snap shut again into a thin line. Is there… something wrong with their name? Why does he look like he’s about to throw up?
Shi Qingxuan tries not to let it get to their head. “Did you just move here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around.” It’s a small enough town that Shi Qingxuan has started to put names to the faces around them. They would remember someone who looks like this. After all, most of the residents they’ve met all tend to follow a vague pattern- sun-kissed, plainly dressed, weathered and calloused from working hard at sea. Ming Yi doesn’t exactly fit the mold. He looks more like he just walked out of a Hot Topic
Ming Yi’s fingers twitch as he looks at Shi Qingxuan’s hand. “Just visiting.”
Shi Qingxuan jabs their hand insistently in Ming Yi’s direction. They’ve gotten each other’s names, haven’t they? So they should make their meeting official. Slowly, Ming Yi takes their hand in his and gives a firm shake. His palm is cold against theirs.
“How long are you visiting for?” Shi Qingxuan asks as they draw their hand away. Ming Yi stares at his own hand for a moment, spreading his fingers before curling them into a fist and letting his arm hang back at his side.
“Not long.”
“Do you have family here?”
“No.”
“Business trip?”
Ming Yi’s gaze drifts to the ocean and the waves that gently push forward and recede. “In a way.”
Well he’s a great conversationalist. Still, Shi Qingxuan finds themselves wanting to wrench more answers from him- preferably something longer than two or three words. It’s almost as if it’s a challenge to them. “Why are you out so early?” they try again.
It takes a beat longer for him to answer this time. “Couldn’t sleep, like you.”
Shi Qingxuan can’t help but smile despite their frustration. Talking to Ming Yi is a little like throwing darts and hoping one sticks. Shi Qingxuan is still trying to figure out the right angle it takes to hit the bullseye. “You don’t talk a whole lot, do you, Ming Yi?”
Ming Yi tips his head down, hair falling in front of his eyes. “Not usually, no.”
At least he’s honest. “That’s alright,” Shi Qingxuan reassures him with a pat on his shoulder. Ming Yi’s gaze darts to their hand and back up to their face. “I’ve been told I can talk enough for two people, ha ha. I guess we balance each other out.”
Ming Yi’s face softens, the wrinkle between his brows finally smoothing out. “I suppose so.”
The new expression he’s wearing is difficult for Shi Qingxuan to look at. Why is it harder to meet his eyes now that he isn’t frowning? They turn away from Ming Yi, and their heart starts to slow into a normal rhythm. When did it start racing?
“Maybe I should have picked a better place to hang out,” Shi Qingxuan switches subjects. They start in the direction of the boardwalk, and after a moment, they hear Ming Yi’s footsteps behind them. “Now I have sand in my shoes and my socks are all wet, ha ha.”
“You should make better decisions,” their companion agrees.
“That isn’t very nice, Ming Yi!” Shi Qingxuan turns to him and pouts. “You’re supposed to comfort me in my time of need. Say something like, ‘I’m so sorry your socks are wet, Shi Qingxuan. That must be very uncomfortable.’”
“I’m so sorry your socks are wet, Shi Qingxuan,” Ming Yi echos. “Next time, make better decisions.”
Shi Qingxuan sighs. They have a feeling that that’s about as nice as Ming Yi is going to be to them.
They reach the stairs leading back to the rockier part of the beach. Shi Qingxuan begins to sit back down on their spot on the top step, setting their crutch aside and using the railing to lower themselves down, when Ming Yi reaches out and offers his hand as support. Shi Qingxuan looks up at him, bewildered. They’re used to people trying to help them, but it feels a little strange coming from him. “Thanks, but I’ve managed just fine this far in life on my own.”
“...Of course.” Ming Yi sits beside them, looking glum once more. Maybe Shi Qingxuan had been a little too harsh.
The sun has finally started to peek its head out over the horizon. Shi Qingxuan can’t remember when they last took the time to watch its ascent. They prop their chin in their hands and rest their elbows on their knees as they watch colors start to paint the sky.
“What do you do for work?” Shi Qingxuan asks, not taking their eyes away from the horizon. The inky black of night fades away into oranges and yellows.
They’ve started to notice a pattern where Ming Yi takes a long pause before answering any of their questions. Perhaps he’s just a thoughtful person. But you’d think with how long he takes to give a reply, he’d say more than just a few words at a time. “Management,” Ming Yi replies simply.
“Hmm.” Shi Qingxuan glances at him from the corner of their eye. Ming Yi has his knees hugged to his chest, his cheek pillowed on his arm as he watches Shi Qingxuan. It might have been a little more unsettling to have his full attention if he didn’t look so silly with half his face smooshed. “Are you a bossy person, Ming Yi?”
“When I need to be.” Shi Qingxuan snorts at that.
The wind rustles through Shi Qingxuan’s hair, blowing their bangs into their eyes. When they push their hair back, they find that soft look on Ming Yi’s face again. He sits up and moves closer. Close enough that Shi Qingxuan can pick out the flecks of orange and honey brown in his golden eyes.
“Shi Qingxuan,” Ming Yi starts, voice catching on their name, “are you happy?”
Shi Qingxuan tips their head to the side and smiles. “Right now? I’m fine.”
Ming Yi frowns. “No. Are you happy?”
Oh. That’s quite a loaded question.
Shi Qingxuan finally has something going for them in life. There’s their apartment, their job, the friendships they’ve formed and the acceptance they’ve received from those in their new town. All things considered, they should be glad that things are starting to look up for them.
They’re satisfied, yes, but are they happy?
“Sometimes, I think.” Ming Yi searches their face for more of an answer, and for whatever reason, Shi Qingxuan figures they might as well give him one. “But most of the time, I feel like there’s something… missing. I thought I might be able to fix it with friends or medications or…” The token in their bag suddenly feels very heavy. Shi Qingxuan shifts the strap around their shoulder. “But it doesn’t go away no matter what I do.” They turn their attention back to the horizon. “If I’m being honest, I’m at a bit of a loss. I think I just have to live with it.”
Ming Yi smells like the ocean and coconuts and something fresh, something comforting. When Shi Qingxuan inhales, his scent surrounds them. “What do you think is missing?” he prods gently.
Shi Qingxuan hangs their head. Isn’t that the question of the century? “I’d tell you if I knew.”
Their phone buzzes in their bag and saves them from this conversation. Not a whole lot of people have their number, so whatever it is must be important. Shi Qingxuan retrieves their phone and flips it open. The text is from their manager, asking them to make a trip to the market to pick up an order whenever they clock in.
Ah, shit, that’s right. They still need to go to work.
“That’s my cue to leave,” Shi Qingxuan says a little reluctantly. As bizarre as the whole encounter has been, they liked having someone to talk to. It’s been a while since they’ve had any sort of meaningful conversation with anyone. “It’s been nice meeting you, Ming Yi. Maybe we’ll see each other around.”
They start to get up, but Ming Yi reaches out and grabs them by the wrist before they can get too far. “Wait.” Shi Qingxuan turns to him, puzzled. “Why are you afraid of the ocean?” he asks.
The sun casts light on the beach and illuminates them both. In the early rays of the morning, Shi Qingxuan feels like they see Ming Yi for the first time. He seems so familiar that it leaves a pit in Shi Qingxuan’s stomach.
He wears the same look that Shi Qingxuan has learned to recognize when they look in the mirror: lost.
“I’m not,” Shi Qingxuan replies with a smile. “Not anymore.”