Chapter Text
Twenty five hours and fifteen minutes. That's how long the journey was.
Early in the morning, starting from the cozy French town of Marseille, they took the first flight, about an hour long, to London. This was the easiest flight of the bunch, all of them fully awake and energized- especially the junior divers.
Freminet loved nothing more than the sea. Something about its mystery, how it's impossible to tell what's down below from above. The thrill of discovering hidden colors and fish and rock formations and other weird things that moved, not quite knowing if they were alive. An abyssal depth of blue and more blue. That's what got him into diving, one of his first hobbies, from around the age of 7. He loved to put on his dollar store diving mask, jump in the water, and just… disappear. His vision was obstructed by the lack of light, the water drowned out all noise but that pleasant rumbling sound. He loved feeling so hidden, so far away from the outside world. This way, it was impossible for him to do anything wrong. Nothing and nobody could find him.
And yes, he was definitely childishly convinced that he wasn't visible from above the water. You can ask his older brother, Lyney. Freminet heard splashing, and suddenly, he was pulled back up frantically by two ten year olds screaming his name.
‘Minet! Mineeeeeet!’ Lyney and Lynette cried out, totally sure that the boy had drowned. A rash and pessimistic judgment, just because he wasn't really moving under the water.
He didn't think he needed to! Light blue eyes met Lyney’s in confusion. Lyney scrutinized his brother's face in panic. Freckled, pale skin, not much paler than usual. Breathing seemed normal. Fine blond hair framed his face, bangs sticking to his forehead, still dripping salty water he'd just been pulled out of. Feeling like a failure, Freminet was sure they'd kill him for this. When Mother took him to sign up for diving lessons instead, he was over the moon.
They were 9 in total- the coach, 3 men, 2 women, and 3 younger kids, all girls. They were all in their early 20s, except for the juniors, who were around their mid teens. The city’s freediving group was much larger, being one of France’s diving centres, but the instructors were quite picky with who they accepted for this tournament in particular. It was an expensive trip from France to China, both in travel costs and accommodation, especially since the beginning of July has always been a pretty demand heavy period for tourism.
-
The second flight was from London to Amsterdam. The amount of flights they would have to take was one of the reasons why Freminet debated skipping the tournament altogether this year, but his siblings, Lyney and Lynette, convinced him to go. Who can resist an all-expenses-paid trip to the other side of the world? Plus, as a diver, it’s a good career advancement opportunity! His brother’s voice rang repeatedly in his head to remind him why he’s doing all this.
Although the twins knew each other many more years than they'd known Freminet, and they weren't biologically related to him, they still loved him as one of their own. It had always been this way.
His earliest memories, at least those he wanted to acknowledge, were of him and his adoptive siblings at the beach. Toes in the sand, staring at waves of white and blue endlessly wash over each other as the sun descended. The smell of salt was almost as overpowering as it was refreshing.
The gentle sea breeze felt cold against wet skin. ‘They say if you put one over your ear, you can hear the tides!’ Lyney encouraged an almost-shivering Lynette, still in her swimsuit as all three of them were, with her arms crossed across her chest. He promptly held out the spikey seashell in his hand.
Freminet studied Lynette, her light gray hair, still soaked from the siblings’ earlier swim, sticking to skin where it reached her forehead, neck, and shoulders. She held the shell over her ear, purple eyes staring blankly, a focused look taking over her small face. ‘...Woah,’ she mumbled after a while.
He turned his gaze to Lyney. Proud, accomplished Lyney, who was looking over at his twin sister's expression with a smile plastered on his face. They all sat and basked in the light for a moment. The setting sun made everything beautiful, so beautiful, that Freminet had promised to himself he'd always remember that moment.
-
It was around the third flight that his head started to spin. Amsterdam to Shanghai was about as bad as it sounds. Although they took a shopping trip through the airport to get things like water, snacks and travel pillows, nothing really prepares you for a flight longer than a few hours if you haven’t gone through it before. Turns out, 18 hours brings out a soreness in your neck that even the softest travel pillow can’t fix.
Freminet already knew of the last flight, Shanghai to Beihai, but he could still barely drag his legs through the airport gate. Three more hours, he'd tell himself, three more hours and it's going to be over. He dreamed of sleeping under the cool blankets of a hotel bed, laying down, and NOT sitting upright.
When they finally, finally got to Beihai airport, the whole thing felt like a fever dream. Freminet mixed all the airports together in his head into a giant ball of different architecture styles and languages and different colors of tourists. It took everything left in the diving team to reach the hotel conscious.
Needless to say, they were all pretty jetlagged.
-
Freminet's room in the Crowne Plaza hotel has the most beautiful seaside window. Taking up the entire left side of the wall, gray curtains hang from the ceiling, unveiling to reveal miles and miles of pure blue spanning across. In front of the window, a small gray couch is decorated with a couple of pillows, looking nicely put together. On the wall to the left, above the bed frame, a light-colored abstract painting decorates the wall. Right below, a neatly made queen-sized bed looks way too enticing to jump in for its own good. A rug, similarly colored to the painting, stretches from one side of the floor to the other, leaving some empty space in front of the bed, revealing sturdy butternut wood. To the sides of the bed frame, next to small wooden desks, stand tall-ish lamps that provide but dim lighting, with the room relying on the large window and small fluorescent squares on the ceiling for its main light sources. In front of the bed, on the bare wooden floor, a strong glass stand keeps up a flatscreen TV. A round wooden table is set in front of the gray couch.
The early morning sun beautifully paints everything in a golden light.
On top of the exhaustion from the journey there, Freminet feels as if he has literally died and went to heaven.
He promised Lyney and Lynette he'd call them when he got to the hotel, but oh well, they might as well wait a few hours. Feeling satisfied from the stability of the ground and his filling airport breakfast, he collapses on the bed then and there.
A knock at his door abruptly wakes him up.
‘Hello? Hellooooo? Debout! We're going out.’
.
The seaside air comfortingly caresses his neck where it can reach, above the neck of his black capelette, courtesy of Lynette that one day when they went shopping. His hair is blown all over his face, with only a cute little travel cap keeping it in place. The familiar smells of salt and fish flood the breezy atmosphere. Freminet was wearing his wetsuit under a pair of dark denim shorts, just in case he decided on going for a quick dive later.
The group had gathered in front of a restaurant with a red sqaure neon sign, whose name none of them can read, on the edge of a boardwalk.
Everyone stands around the coach, Chaussivert, who is wearing the most embarrassing white tourist outfit you could possibly imagine. Closest to her are the kids, Veta, Estella, and Cava, excitedly waiting for their promised shopping trip. Behind them are the adults. Freminet, Edel, and Chalmet stand slightly farther away from Emerald and Domenico, who look dangerously close to starting with their weird couple stuff.
‘OK tout le monde, listen up. It is currently 7:06pm. Everyone here at exactly 9, sharp. This will be our meeting spot. Kids, do not leave the boardwalk. Adults, do whatever you want, I don’t care. After this, we’re going to the competition pool for a few quick test dives before returning to the hotel to rest. Pool visits are scheduled, so please do be here on time.’
Most team members go straight for the shops, including the coach, whom Freminet and Domenico had bet on spending her entire life savings on tourist traps. Freminet pauses and stares in the direction of the group’s movement for a while. They kind of look like fish following an underwater current, he notes. He turns around, and follows the opposite direction.
The boardwalk is actually part of a larger beach, divided in half by a large cliff. It’s very easy to pass around it from the front, if you don’t mind getting your shoes a little wet. That’s no problem for Freminet.
The second half of the beach is not commercialized. It is plain, clean sand, if only a few seashells poking around here and there. The sand shines gracefully in the evening light, and the sky seems a rich golden color, as light blue gradually turns into orange. It doesn't hit Freminet that he's in an entirely different continent yet. He has always been mesmerized by the sea at this time of day; he remembers summer evenings like these, when Mother would take him and his siblings for a swim.
They’d stay the entire evening until late at night; he'd stare at the sky, watching carefully, as the view would slowly, but dramatically shift from blue shades into oranges, then pinks, purples, then, inevitably, pitch black darkness. Lyney and Lynette would change into dry clothes and play on the sand, but he would stay still, as if something had frozen him in place. The breeze would turn colder and colder, until they'd be dragged back home. Of course, he'd often catch colds after nights like those, but he really didn't mind. In fact, he won't mind if he catches a cold now either. It wouldn't affect his performance for the competition, would it? Since-
‘Hey, excuse me?’
An unfamiliar voice shakes him out of his trance.
Huh??????
‘Oh, um, sorry if I scared you. I just, I usually… I go here to practice my dancing, and I've… I've never seen you around before. Are you, um, lost?’
Freminet turns to face the boy who startled him. Probably around his age, if he had to guess. A lot tanner than him. His dark hazel bug eyes are a little jarring, but he gives off a very warm and inviting vibe. His brown hair is pulled back in a small high ponytail, with a few strands, barely visible from the bottom, dyed red. He's casually dressed, with just a flowy cotton band t-shirt and a pair of dark blue sweatpants. Freminet stands slightly taller, but they're probably the same height, judging by Freminet's slightly raised heels and the boy's lack of footwear. He's probably used to being all alone over here, thinks Freminet.
Speaking of, is this area even open for guests? Are either of them allowed to be here? If it's his first day in this country, and he's already managed to mess up this badly, it seems Freminet really can't do anything right…
‘Oh, am I not… supposed to be here? I'm sorry, I'll leave-’
‘Nonono!!! I mean, it's fine, really. It's just,’ the boy shook his hands in front of him apologetically.
‘This place is usually empty. You know, that's why I come here in the first place, I don't want to bother anyone if I'm loud… Nobody comes here. Especially tourists.’ He looks at Freminet with a questioning flare.
‘Um, I'm here with a group, but they went towards the shops. I just wanted to admire the beach for a little… If that's okay, I mean.’ Freminet gradually went quieter, unsure of how to respond. Should he even be telling this guy what he's here for?
‘Hey, I like doing that too,’ he replies cheerfully.
‘I come here most evenings when I'm free, I usually have work though. It's a really pretty beach. And, it's very spacious, which is pretty convenient for dance practice-’
Alright, I'll bite.
‘What kind?’
‘Hm?’
‘Of dance. What kind of dance do you do?’
‘Oh. Hm. I'm a lion dancer! I've loved lion dancing since I can remember myself walking and talking. And wearing diapers. Okay, basically it’s performed with two people, one of which is the head and front legs, and the other one is the rest of the body. I tend to be the head. The person in the back has to have a lot of arm strength because they have to lift the other person up aaaalllll the time. The person in the front has to perform tons of jumps and stuff, and the adrenaline of being up in the air like that is unmatched… Oh, I'm rambling again. Hold on, I don't even know if you guys have that where you're from… Wait, where are you from?’
Freminet's first instinct is to lie, if Mother has taught him anything. For some reason, though, he feels kind of inclined to keep talking with this stranger.
‘France.’
‘Ooh, I've never been. I'd really like to, though. I hear you guys have good pastries.’
That gets a giggle out of Freminet. ‘Well, I have to agree. But I may be a little biased.’
‘I would love to travel all around the world and try lots of different cuisines. I'm lucky enough to live in this city, because we have lots of immigration, which brought many different cuisines to Beihai. But you know what? Ever since I was a kid, I've been really fascinated by those travel food blogs that would post expensive five course meals with dishes you've never even heard of. Ah, this will continue to be just a dream for the foreseeable future, though. You might imagine dance doesn't earn me much.’
Firstly, this guy sure talks a lot. Secondly, damn, all this talk about food…
‘Have you been here a while? Tried anything local yet?’
Screw it.
‘We just got here today, actually. And maybe we should not speak of food this much. I haven't had anything since we got to our hotel…’
‘That's great!’ The boy blurts out.
‘Is it?’
‘Well, yeah! Cuz you get a chance to be shown around by a local,’ he winks at Freminet. Freminet feels his face slightly warm from the remark.
‘What would you like to try? No, actually, what are you craving? Could be anything. It’s on me.’
‘Hmm, well… seafood is my favorite.’
‘For real? That's the best answer you could've given me. There's this Vietnamese place my father took me one day when I was around 6 years old, basically kickstarted my obsession with different kinds of food. They have the best seafood, you have to let me take you, pleasepleasepleeeeease???’
Normally, Freminet would've turned this down. But he can distantly hear his family's voices in his head. ‘When will you come out of your shell, little brother?’ Lyney would say. ‘You can't stay afraid forever, little brother,’ Lynette would say. ‘When will you give me grandchildren?’ Mother would say. Ok, maybe the last one is a bit out of place.
‘That sounds really good right now. Thank you, uh…?’
‘Oh right! Apologies. Name's Gaming.’
‘Hm. Gamine?’
‘Ehmmmm, hmmmm, uhhhh, yeah close enough.’
‘Well, I'm Freminet.’
‘It's nice to meet you, um, Fkheminè…?’
‘Yikes. I feel less bad about butchering your name now.’
‘Hey!’ Gaming gasps in an exaggerated, fake-offended tone.
-
The walk to the restaurant is peaceful.
Firstly, they pass through part of the beach, which is quite familiar to Freminet. He stares at the ground, watching as their shoes (and flip flops) laid out their traces. He quietly listens; waves gently crashing next to the two boys, the sound of sand being tossed under their feet, the distant hustle and bustle of the city. Gaming would stop every few moments to point out a shop to Freminet, saying something about how cheap or high quality it is. He'd love to keep them in mind, but he's too hungry and tired for that. Maybe he'll ask him later at the restaurant.
After a while, they move to the sidewalk. Freminet quickly observes that Beihai is much, much busier than Marseille, especially during the night.
‘I'm not really used to this much noise…’
‘Yeah, it does get pretty active at night here. I mean, I'm all for it. Makes going out a lot more fun. I've made friends from all around the world in these clubs, but ah, I can totally see how this wouldn't be everyone's thing. I- I totally hear you.’
Eventually, they get to the restaurant. It's this really cute, small place by the sea. Family owned, judging by the cozy atmosphere- and the little Vietnamese kid in the corner doing math homework (Freminet would totally offer to help if it wasn't for the language barrier).
The place is dimly lit, with hung lights in the corners and around the small building, and an overhead lamp in the middle of the interior's ceiling. They sat outside, at a table for two, both the table and chairs a matching, vintage-looking wooden set. The sun has almost set by now, and they seemingly reached their destination in the pink hour.
‘I know I said I like seafood, but, uh, I can't really read anything from this menu… What should I order?’ Freminet studies the menu closer as if he'll magically learn Vietnamese.
‘Alriiiight, well, hmmm… If you're looking for something a bit greasy, you should definitely get the tom kho tau, it's braised prawns. Or if you're craving soup, this shrimp pho they got is pretty good too. If you want my recommendation, I always get the cá kho tộ. It's braised and caramelized fish. It's served with white rice, sweet and sour soup for the dip and a few vegetable side dishes if you'd like. A fully nutritious meal! I find it very satisfying after I'm exhausted from my training. I know you've probably been up for a while, all that traveling… You said you arrived today?’
'I was on the air for over 24 hours, I think.'
'Oh damn. That's a lot. I'll treat you then! We'll have two of those. Don't worry about paying me back. Really! No need.'
Freminet is not very comfortable with accepting gifts, but he's too exhausted to argue with Gaming, who seems determined to pay for that meal.
-
When the food arrives, it looks and smells so much better than any description could do it justice.
Steaming heat radiates from the clay pot carefully placed in front of him, accompanied by the smell of heavily seasoned cooked fish. A similar dish is placed in front of Gaming, braised to perfection until a delicious looking red-ish brown color. A generous amount of chopped green peppers and chili is sprinkled across.
They share side dishes, plenty of which are served. There are two small bowls of white rice beside the main dishes, as many smaller bowls of juicy green cucumber slices, boiled vegetables, and a dark red dipping sauce are laid out on the table between them. They both get a pair of chopsticks each, with a couple of empty small clay pots containing water.
Gaming dips his cutlery into the water for a quick wash, and Freminet, a little confused, follows.
Freminet triumphs when he manages to pick up a piece with the chopsticks and bite into it. And wow, it really is as good as it looks. The taste of the fish itself is very strong, but it definitely has been heavily salted. There's a tinge of garlic in the aftertaste.
-
‘Maybe we should give each other nicknames,’ Gaming suggested through a mouthful of fish.
‘Why?’
‘I mean, I can't really pronounce your name, you can't really pronounce mine… What should we call each other?’
‘Ok, I guess. Hmm…’
‘How about Mimi? Can I call you that?’
‘Either of us could be Mimi.’
‘We can both be Mimi. My friends used to call me Sisi.’
Freminet stares at Gaming in pure confusion.
‘Uh, it's… We tend to be like that with nicknames. But it started around the time when I went to see my first wushu dance, oh, that's what they're called by the way, and anyway, my mom made me this lion head out of cardboard that I became TOTALLY obsessed with. And my friends from gymnastics, oh, did I tell you that? I used to go to this gym that had a class for younger kids, I'm still in contact with some of them. But yeah they started calling me Saisi, which basically means little lion, and, that evolved to Sisi over the years.’
‘My siblings call me Minet. It means… kitten.’
‘That's… Okay, that's really cute,’ he says with a saccharine smile that made Freminet hesitate to check his phone for the time.
8.45pm. Shit. Shit.
He gets up and smooths down the fabric of his shorts.
'I don't mean to cut this short, but I kind of have to be back at the boardwalk at 9pm.'
‘Oh shoot, we should run!’
Getting up in a frenzy, Gaming grabs Freminet's hand and bolts in the boardwalk's direction. They are definitely getting some weird stares, but that's the least of Freminet's worries.
‘Wait- wait! We didn't pay- Mimi!!’
Gaming stops abruptly, staring back at the blond, who looks dazed and confused. The way he pronounced that nickname was, undeniably… Cute. The pitched ‘i’s reminded him of his childhood friends, and the way they would pronounce his name when they were in grade school. Freminet's nervously fixing his cap, trying to keep it from flying away as they run through windy sidewalks.
Damn. This guy is cute. What a shame he's only a tourist.
He shoots Freminet back a genuine smile.
‘Don't worry, the owners know me. I'll go back and pay after we drop you off. Oh, and don't you dare try to pay me back.’
Gaming waves Freminet off when they finally reach the first wooden planks.
‘Byeeeee! Have a nice stay!’
-
The bus ride to the pool is a lot less quiet than Freminet expected. These kids sure have a lot of energy. Granted, they weren't out of breath from running tirelessly these past 20 minutes. The kids are all sitting together in the back of the coach bus and playing loups-garous.
The lights from outside project onto him and his teammates, painting them in all sorts of hues.
Freminet presses his head against the plastic window and looks outside, as the group passes through the city. It looks even more colorful after the sun has well set, the countless neon signs standing out like red, green, and blue stars in the dark of night. Flocks of people cover the streets, moving along like the waters of a colorful stream. The bustling of locals and tourists, shoppers and salespeople, come through muffled in the large bus, and are overridden by the gentle humming and vibration from its engine.
Freminet is woken up by the sudden stopping of said engine.
-
Inside the pool room, the temperature is… weird. Not quite cold, not quite warm, an artificial breeze surrounds them. The lights were off, except for the ones inside the large pool, giving it the illusion of glowing blue. Those, and a few street lights from outside that shined through the windows, were the only light source in the room.
After a few minutes of test dives, Freminet pulls himself up from under the water over the pool deck. He turns around and sits on the edge of the deck, feet dangling in the water.
‘Fremi?’ Chalmet nudges him from inside the pool, still in her diving suit.
‘Hm?’
‘Where were you before? During our free time?’
‘Why do you ask?’
She chuckles at his response.
‘Oh, I don't know, cause you were running for your life when you came back? From the completely opposite direction?’
‘Mais, qui était-ce, the guy you were with?’
Freminet turns around to see that the rest of the group, drying off under towels, is apparently also invested in his little story.
‘Is he a local?’
‘What's his name?’
‘Did you get his number?’
‘Guys,’ Freminet cuts the questions off, ‘I met him randomly on some beach. I don't have any way to contact him. We… We probably won't see each other ever again.’
Even though he only got to speak with Gaming for 2 hours, he feels kind of sad saying that out loud. He at least seemed like an interesting person, and Freminet would like to get to know him better.
At the very least, he could've recommended more good restaurants. They are staying in the city for the entirety of July, after all.
-
For hours, he shifts uncomfortably in his bed. There's nothing wrong with the bed itself; actually, it's pretty nice and chilly. Freminet has been staring at the sea through the glass wall since they got back to the hotel, but it just doesn't seem to help at all.
He's not used to being so far away from home. Everything feels different… but, at the same time, too similar. This contrast is seriously throwing him off. Yes, he's a whole continent away, thousands of kilometers from his family. The food here is so different, nothing at all like back home. The flavors are much more intense, and each dish comes with a load of side dishes that he did not expect. The language is unlike anything he's used to hearing in France, and even when the locals speak English, it sounds like a different language. Even names are drastically different, like Gaming's.
Oh, Gaming, he's definitely unlike anything he's ever seen. Such enormous amounts of energy in that boy. An incredible affinity for rambling, and for sharing. He even paid for Freminet's food! Freminet doesn't usually trust people he doesn't know, but Gaming seemed so genuine and well meaning. That might just be him, though.
On the other hand, he still can't register that he's not at home. The way their guest city is such a cultural mix reminded him of Marseille. The smell of salt as he walked along the shore… the smell of fish when he and Gaming reached the restaurant-filled parts of the street. The song of cicadas, a sound that he will always associate with his happiest childhood summer memories.
He lays on his back, trying to take his mind off everything for a little bit.
He lets the familiar sounds of summer lull him to sleep.
Cicadas buzz through the night.
Waves crash on top of eachother, again, and again, and again… and again.
Breathe in, breathe out.