Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

As the sun began to set, the sky slowly grained a warm, gold-pink tint. Rays of sunlight graced the huge white high school building, streaming through the windows wet from the earlier rain into the empty classrooms.

The last groups of teenagers were leaving the building after their extracurricular activities. The theater kids were reciting their roles loudly enough that the detainees turned to look at them, jealous and filled with the remnants of knowledge they had unsuccessfully tried to memorize.

The setting looked like the beginning of a romance that would capture the hearts of all teenagers with a Netflix subscription. Gazing at the film-set-like view, most viewers would probably think that the white-haired boy with the camera, standing apart from all the other students, was the main character.

Well, that role was the last thing in the world this boy wanted. 

Lu Guang surveyed the building, glancing once more at each window, counting them and preparing for the next day, which, in his mind, felt like being sent to the final circle of hell. Second floor, third window – math classroom, where he had his first lesson. Third floor, seventh window – history, second lesson. Ground floor, first window – physics, next two lessons. 

The stress of the first day of school was so overwhelming that he felt as if his legs had turned to liquid, but he felt much better coming there a day earlier to familiarize himself with the building's layout. Not that he particularly cared about making a first impression in class or getting teachers' approval. He just wanted to be inconspicuous.

The last thing left to check was the outdoor pitch, and then he could go "home."

He took a deep breath to calm his stress-intensified asthma. Not that he had any reason to familiarize himself with the pitch—he was excused from PE lessons because of said disorder. However, he felt the need to check everything out rather than regret later that he'd omitted this detail, which would be useful. He slowly walked along the path behind the building. 

The court was located just behind the left wing of the building, surrounded by a high fence and bushes. Inside, beyond the rubber playing field, there was a running track and a sandbox for long jumps. Pretty normal stuff for high school; he didn't expect anything different. A group of teenagers were playing basketball, although unevenly, two against one.

Lu Guang was about to turn around and head back, but a large group of birds flying over the field caught his eye. He tightened his grip on the camera around his neck—after all, he'd brought it for a reason, hadn't he? He hadn't taken his daily photo yet.

He removed the lens cap, turned on the camera, and, putting his eye to the viewfinder, aimed at the birds.

A quiet "tsk" escaped his lips, realizing that the fence was spoiling the scene. Whether he wanted to or not, he had to enter the field. He gently opened the gate and moved far enough away so that the fence was out of sight in any corner. He focused on the departing birds, put his finger on the trigger, and…

"WATCH OUT!!!"

The moment he pulled the camera away from his face to see who was screaming, he felt a searing pain across his face, and his entire body slumped backward.

He hit his head and back against the hard rubber of the field. His vision was dark, and even if he wanted to, he couldn't take a breath. It took him a moment to regain his breath and vision, and when he finally slowly opened his eyes, he saw, beyond the sky, the face of an unfamiliar teenager above him.

“Are you alive? Are you okay???”

The other two were arguing over whose fault it was—the one who threw it or the one who didn't catch it, though the boy leaning over Lu Guang didn't seem to care at the moment. His worried face was fully focused on the white-haired boy.

“I’m okay,” Lu Guang said as he quickly got up to a sitting position, a bit too quickly considering he’d just hit the back of his head on the ground.

“Stay still, I’ll go for a doctor!” The boy screamed as he wanted to get off his knees, but Lu Guang grabbed his wrist at the very last moment.

“I’m okay,” he repeated.

It was a bad idea to get here in the first place. He’d attracted attention before school even started. He didn’t know if his face burned from the blow or from embarrassment.

“I’m okay,” he said once again, quieter, this one only to himself.

“God, I’m so glad. I’m so sorry,” he got his hand out of Lu Guang’s grip and went to retrieve the camera lying a few steps away, thrown there by the impact. He came back, carefully holding the object in his hands. “I work in a photo studio nearby. If there’s anything wrong with your camera, I will repair it for free.”

The boy’s young face and the word “work” falling from his lips momentarily confused Lu Guang, but he quickly pushed the thought aside. He preferred not to care, much less that nothing happened to the camera and nothing needed to be repaired.

“Do you… wanna play with us? We’re missing one person.”

Lu Guang glanced at him instantly, not even realizing it. It had been so long before anyone asked him about any shared activities.

Especially about playing basketball, which he loved so much. He couldn't remember the last time he'd played, let alone with anyone.

Lu Guang stood up wordlessly, cautiously, as if he were still feeling dizzy from the impact. Without a word, he walked toward the field gate.

"Hey, man, you could just say n—"

The white-haired boy bent down behind the gate and gently placed the camera on the grass before returning to the field.

His inner voice screamed at him to just get out of there. He hadn't come here to play, let alone make friends.

He should go back to his room, iron his clothes for the next day, and go to bed, as he'd planned.

But… one game wouldn't hurt, right?

“Oh! I get that. GUYS, IT’S TIME FOR REVENGE!”

Sweat was dripping down Lu Guang's face, more than he'd drunk in days. He lay flat on the ground, breathing heavily, mentally tallying up how much asthma medication he still had left. He'd definitely need to take a larger dose that day.

"Man, we did great, we won!"

His teammate sat next to him, also sweaty and breathing heavily.

"While asking you for a game, I wouldn't guess you're so good at it! I just wanted to have someone pass the ball to me. How long have you been playing?"

Personal question. Lu Guang felt a shiver towards his back.

"Not much."

"Really? You play like a professional. We should play together more often; we could be great partners in the future!"

Lu Guang glanced at him.

"We just met."

"Oh, yeah..." the long-haired boy looked away, embarrassed, and scratched his head. "Sorry, I'm just excited. Want to grab some water from the vending machine?”

A few seconds of pause. 

“Yeah, why not.”

As they walked, the other boy couldn’t stop talking about basketball and Lu Guang’s camera. The white-haired wasn’t even carefully listening, just nodding, while his mind roleplayed a court case, with him as the defendant. His need for separation from the world accused him of defamation, and his social phobia accused him of hypocrisy. His introversion and antisocial nature were the primary victims, telling him he had betrayed his own ideals and would suffer as a result.

But Lu Guang felt… nice?

He hadn't spoken to anyone his own age (presumably) in a very long time, just like he hadn't played basketball or done anything he enjoyed for the sake of it.

Starting tomorrow, he'll be back to normal. It was a pleasant escape from everyday life and safety.

While the boy with him paid for water and a candy bar with his phone, Lu Guang inserted a few coins from his pocket into the vending machine. There goes a significant portion of his tomorrow's food fund.

They sat on a bench next to the machine and opened the water bottles at the same time. The other boy drank it all at once, while Lu Guang took only a few sips, just to make his mouth and throat wet. 

“I should go,” he finally said. It was already late and dark, and he definitely should prepare himself - mentally and physically - for the next day. He stood up, glancing once again at the other boy. “Thanks for the game.”

“Let’s hope we will play again soon!” His teammate said excitedly. “Oh, by the way, I’m Cheng Xiaoshi.”

“Nice to meet you,” Lu Guang wasn't ready to share his name yet. “Have a good night,” he said instead, putting on his wired headphones and slowly walking towards his place.

Lu Guang's room at the orphanage consisted of only a bed, a wardrobe, and a desk, all squeezed together, with no room for anything else. It was a single room, and despite its size, every child envied it. Because of this, some looked at him with contempt, as if his numerous allergies and autism were a privilege.

The only personal belongings he possessed were books stacked on a spare floor space, textbooks and notebooks donated by his aunts, a phone, clothes, and a camera—the only memento from his former life, which he didn't truly miss.

He had more peace here. As long as he didn't cause trouble, others wouldn't cause trouble for him.

Lu Guang returned from the shower and sat on the bed. One of his aunts had ironed his clothes for the next day, and though he was grateful, his need for independence groaned in the back of his mind.

He remembered the photo he'd taken and picked up the camera to examine it.

However, when he flicked the switch to ON, nothing happened.

Lu Guang's heart stopped. He tried again. And again. And so on, up to ten. Nothing changed.

He felt his breath catch in panic again. He couldn't afford the repair, and he had to take his daily photo tomorrow. It wouldn't be the same with his phone.

Unless…

I work in a photo studio nearby. If there's anything wrong with your camera, I will repair it for free.

Lu Guang pressed his face into the pillow and groaned. He'd have to find that studio tomorrow.

Cheng Xiaoshi couldn't identify the emotions he felt in his stomach.

He spent the next fifteen minutes after the stranger left just sitting with his face buried in his hands. 

Was that an excitement because he met someone new? Happiness after winning a great game? 

Was that anxiety caused by hitting the guy hurt? An embarrassment because he didn’t get his name? Or fear that he was just a burden for him for asking him to play?

He couldn’t handle it. No matter what happened, he always somehow found a way to feel like a burden to the world. 

It was like that for his whole life already. 

He just wished to know why. What did he do in his previous life to suffer like that in this one?

He just hoped he would finally find a friend. 

He stood up and took the wireless earpieces from his pocket. As he connected them to his phone and turned on music, he started walking towards his home. 

His head was full, but he felt empty. The feeling of emptiness was there all the time and it was paradoxically heavy. All he wished is to take it out of his soul. He felt like crying. 

All his high school ‘friends’ felt like actors in his life, showing on plan only during class scenes. They laughed, they talked, but the second he left the school he felt like this all wasn’t real. The loneliness was killing him. He hated it. 

He hoped maybe the guy with incredible basketball skills would somehow be the missing piece, but he rushed too fast. They knew each other and he already started talking about partnership? Normal people don’t build relationships like that. It takes time, but he felt like don’t have it. 

He took the shortest way home, to have less time to think about his life. He unlocked the door and went to the empty studio. 

There was paperwork and disassembled, ready for cleaning camera. Right, he should finish it before tomorrow, but he felt like his anger issue could make him smash the pieces and rip the paper the second something will go wrong. 

He went straight to the first floor and looked at the bunk bed. The upper bed was for his sister, who, aware of his struggles, sometimes stayed with him at night just to make him feel less lonely. He could call her right now, but the feeling of being a nothing meaning burden was too overwhelming, and he will probably lose it the second he will try to explain how he feels. 

He grabbed shower supplies and went straight to the bathroom. He had absolutely no strength for it, but all his clothes were stuck to him from the sweat and the same feeling with the bedding would drive him insane. 

Warm water was one of the little things that helped him feel a little better. After washing himself, instead of getting out, he sat under the running water for a while. His thoughts still were running around the guy he met. He didn’t even know if he would ever see him again. Two years in this school and he had never seen anyone with white hair like that. 

Maybe he’s new? Maybe he was just passing by? Maybe they will never meet each other again and he just made himself full of hope for notning?

The idea made him sick to his stomach, even though it was just a total stranger, Cheng Xiaoshi was a loser, who got attached to people way too quickly and got hurted every time. Who couldn’t even handle his emotions, not even recognise him. Who would like to be friends with someone like him?

He looked at his scars at the upper tights. That was the proof of his inhumanity. 

Chapter Text

Lu Guang, though he didn't seem like one, hated many things.

Starting with his hair. In three classes and two breaks, he'd already been asked about it five times—whether it was dyed, and if so, how he cared for it to stay so fluffy despite the constant bleaching. Once from a man, once from a teacher, and three times from girls at school, not just his class.

Lu Guang genuinely hated it and explaining that it was a genetic condition. For some reason, while his hair was completely white as snow, unruly, and perpetually tousled, the rest of his body hair remained dark. His thick, bushy eyebrows looked comical against his white hair, and if Lu Guang could, he would have dyed them darker long ago. As usual, allergies ruined all his plans.

Thinking about this during break, he glanced in the mirror as he walked down the hall and realized he hated his face too. Everyone around him was so pretty, and he, looking at his acne scars, braces with blue rubber bands, and dimples in his slim face, felt as if he had accidentally ended up in school instead of the circus. His black, rectangular glasses made him look like a nerd, but he didn't really care, because he literally was one.

His arms itched with stress. An itch he felt every time, telling him, "Come on, you know how to de-stress." He scratched his scars through his shirt's sleeves, which were very long. He hated them too. He hated his lack of control in moments of crisis and one of the only two things that could control him.

Leaving the building, Lu Guang decided he simply hated himself.

He went out to the smoking area across the street, in a mini park connected to the skate park. However, instead of children on roller skates and scooters, the place was filled with students who were either out for a smoke, for some fresh air, or for socializing.

Lu Guang, unfortunately, belonged to the first group.

He was so tired he just stopped adding things to his lists, even his addiction suits it perfectly. 

He sat down on the bench furthest from the rest of the students and began rummaging through his backpack. Looking through cat treats, scattered pens, and torn notebook pages, he finally found a crumpled pack of cigarettes with a lighter inside.

If any of his aunts found out about his habit, he'd definitely be banned from going outside anywhere other than school for the next month, if not longer. Not only because smoking is harmful, wastes money, and Lu Guang is underage, but mainly because he's asthmatic and only worsens his health.

Lu Guang sighed, putting a cigarette to his mouth and lighting it with his lighter.

Not that his health mattered all that much to him. He couldn't imagine his future, so he wasn't particularly concerned about the long-term consequences.

What mattered most to him was the immediate effect, which he needed now, because he felt that in a moment he'd start screaming from the stress of it all.

The smoke hit his throat and lungs, and he felt some of the stress drain out of him with his exhale. He slumped on the bench, leaning his head back and resting his arms on the back of the bench, and let the cigarette slowly burn.

Everyone around him was laughing and chatting with each other; someone had even turned on loud music. Only Lu Guang sat alone, a cigarette in his hand and thoughts in his head. Not that he felt bad about it. He believed that solitude was the only thing that gave him the peace he longed for, and the less attention he drew to himself, the fewer problems he would have.

Looking deep in these thoughts, his instincts didn't even register the pair of eyes staring at him from afar.

Cheng Xiaoshi stood on the other side of the park, with his classmates. As the only one without a vape in his hand, with the upcoming inter-school basketball tournament, he couldn't afford to damage his lungs. Instead, he stared at Lu Guang, shocked. He was almost certain he'd never see him again.

Should he talk to him? Did this white-haired boy even want to talk to him? Was he trying to show him he didn't want to know him by not giving him his name?

He slowly stopped hearing the conversations around him, losing himself in the spiral of questions that swirled in his head. Maybe he just wasn't ready yet? Did he hate him already? If he saw him, would he just go away and avoid looking at him?

A hand waved in front of his face brought him back to reality.

"What are you, gay, staring at him like that?" one of his friends asked.

"Stop it," he said, though the words stung a little. Specifically, the one half of his sexual orientation he couldn't even utter a word about. "I'm looking at his hair; I've never seen it so white."

"I saw him leaving physics class. Math-phys is there now. I think he's new."

"He fits in with those nerds," another said.

“We're biol-chem, we're just as nerdy.”

“At least we have a social life.”

Cheng Xiaoshi rolled his eyes.

“Whatever man, get off him already.”

His "friends" exchanged glances but didn't comment on his behavior. Instead, they changed the subject. Not for long, because a moment later, the bell rang, announcing the end of recess.

Cheng Xiaohsi took one last glance at the boy, who tossed the remains of his cigarette into the trash, grabbed his backpack, and headed toward the school. The long-haired boy turned away, hoping he wouldn't recognize him, even though he desperately wanted to ask him if he'd like to play with him again in the future, but he was too afraid to disappoint him. He no longer knew what he wanted.

The answer to Cheng Xiaoshi's need was standing in front of his studio, clutching his camera tightly in both hands as if it were about to fall apart. Lu Guang stood there for about a minute, wondering if this was a good idea. He didn't want to use the company just because he'd been hit in the face with a ball, but he probably wouldn't be able to save up enough money for repairs anytime soon.

He took a deep breath and with a shaking hand, opened the studio door.

A loud "a quest has arrived" echoed through the studio, drowning out the music playing from the phone on the counter. Surprisingly, no one was there.

The studio was small but spacious. The walls were full of photos, a yellow couch, and a counter, behind which a display case held all sorts of cameras—from older models to newer ones. While it didn't look like a professional studio, it felt cozy. Beyond the studio was a small hallway leading to a larger room, where an armchair and a couch could be seen.

It looked like someone lived here, which made Lu Guang wonder if he was in the right place, but the sign for “Hero Photo Studio” spoke for itself.

He sat down on the couch, deciding to wait a moment for the owner, or Cheng Xiaoshi—if he remembered his name correctly. He thought it was a bit unprofessional that no one was in the studio—after all, someone could easily rob it, but he didn't want to interfere in someone else's business. He just wanted to fix his camera—that's all.

A minute later, he heard someone descending the stairs, which were probably in the next room, and the humming of "Bohemian Rhapsody." Cheng Xiaoshi came around the corner, looked at Lu Guang, and jumped up with a cry.

"Shit! I haven't heard you, I'm so, so sorry, it's so unprofessional of me. What can I help you with?"

Cheng Xiaoshi's heart began to pound with stress as he stepped behind the counter. He felt as if the universe was giving him the perfect opportunity, or trying to annoy him and make him feel worse. He didn't know which of these statements was correct.

 “My camera isn't working after that fall. You said you could fix it for free.”

“Oh, right! I’m so sorry again, I’ll get to work now. I’ll try to diagnose the problem. You can wait here, and I’ll tell you right away how long it will take. Sit down, feel free,” he said, and gently took the camera from the white-haired man. He began examining it from all sides, identifying the body model, then the lens, and looking for any micro-damage. When he found nothing, he sat down at the counter, pulled out a box of screwdrivers, and slowly began to disassemble the body.

“I saw you in the smoking area today, are you new?” Cheng Xiaoshi finally dared to ask.

“Yes, I changed schools,” Lu Guang said, and mentally noted that Cheng Xiaoshi was attending the same school.

“What are you majoring in now?”

“Math-psych.”

“Oh cool, I’m on a biol-chem. Not like I'm smart enough to be there, but well, too late to change it," he said, slowly examining parts of the camera.

"It's never too late to change."

"I know, but you know, catching up on material, passing classes... running the studio in the meantime... I don't have the time or energy for that."

"Run... are you the owner?"

"Yeah, I own this place. I grew up here with my parents."

Lu Guang had a question on his mind, but he said he knew from experience that if someone doesn't want to talk about their parents, they shouldn't bring it up.

Cheng Xiaoshi pulled out a soldering iron from behind the bar. He must have seen his client's face turn pale, because he began to reassure him.

"Don't worry, I know what I'm doing. A wire came loose on the board, just solder it back in, and everything should be working as before. By the way..." The boy swallowed, hoping it wouldn't be noticeable. "What's your name? I know I've already asked, but..."

"Lu Guang."

"Oh! Thank you, it's nice. I'll remember that."

He stopped talking for a moment to fully focus on the soldering, but his thoughts kept drifting to whether he was really doing everything right with the boy, as if his life depended on it.

The soldering didn't take long. He gave the solder a second to dry, made sure everything was glued together properly, and began putting all the components back together.

“Now everything should be working, let’s see… It is! Here you go!” He handed the camera to his client, who went to the counter to take a look. Lu Guang, seeing the camera working, let out the breath he had been unconsciously holding.

“Thank you very much.”

“Hey man, I don’t know if you have any friends yet, but… do you want to play basketball again?”

Lu Guang’s shoulders tensed.

They had indeed had fun at the game the previous day. But could he allow himself to be happy so often? Lu Guang felt he didn’t deserve it. He should go back to the orphanage, lock himself in his room with his comfort, express noodles, play Minecraft on the old computer, or read a book. He should return to his solitary routine that gave him peace.

Despite this, despite all the stop signs clogging his throat, he finally said:

“Yes, I want.”

Cheng Xiaoshi's heart filled with a joy he'd probably never felt. He wanted to jump for joy like a little child, but at his age, it wasn't appropriate.

"Do we want to go now? I'm closing up for today anyway, and I have the evening free, so I can grab the ball and we can go."

"Okay."

It didn't take them long to lock up the studio. They left the building, Cheng Xiaoshi with the ball, bouncing it occasionally, and Lu Guang with the camera.

At one point, Lu Guang stopped and turned on the camera. Cheng Xiaoshi stopped and looked at him, but Lu Guang nodded at him to continue bouncing. He took a photo of the long-haired man's hands bouncing the ball against the ground.

Fortunately, he managed to get his daily photo.