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Xingchen stared at the glass of water. From the condensation dripping down the sides to the way the dawn light warped through the curved sides and was blurred by the water.
"Should I be concerned?" Song Lan eyed Xingchen as he crossed the kitchen to get his own water. Xingchen sighed. "What's wrong?" he asked more forcefully.
"It hasn't fully formed." Xingchen had a headache that felt like a needle driven through their eyeball, which meant there was something significant to be seen. Sometimes the visions were nothing more than a whisper on the breeze, and the other times…
"So a headache?" Song Lan asked. Xingchen set the glass down, nodding. Song Lan's brow furrowed. "Do you know…" he gestured, "anything?"
Xingchen shook their head. They knew Song Lan was trying even if he'd rather not know. Xingchen turned back to the window, squinting against the bright light.
"There's been a lot of noise, but this is different," Xingchen said. "And nothing heavy for breakfast, okay?" Their head hurt a lot, and medication wouldn't erase this pain.
"Of course."
Xingchen had always seen more. Growing up, they didn't have words. Everything was mixed into memory or daily happenings. It freaked out too many foster families. Turned out people didn't like it when Xingchen knew things before they happened. Even something as simple as insisting it would rain even though the weather station said clear skies.
And no one could explain the debilitating headaches. Some went as far as to think Xingchen was lying for attention. Xingchen didn't understand it until years later, when they were whisked away to the mountains, and it was all explained by people who understood their gift.
Xingchen lay on the couch in the cozy apartment shared with their lovers, Song Lan and Xue Yang. Seeing the future was something Xingchen had been upfront about from the start. Song Lan was wary but supportive, and Xue Yang treated it as his favorite TV show. It was amusing.
There had been a lot of fear that it'd be too much, even though the wind had whispered otherwise.
"What is it today?" Xue Yang asked loudly. Xingchen opened their eyes, crossing them because Xue Yang was so close. Xue Yang liked to know what Xingchen saw; what he knew. He delighted in it all.
Xingchen smiled, reaching up, twisting their fingers in Xue Yang's long hair. "Not sure yet."
"Song Lan's already on edge."
"Mmm. Did Zichen wake you?" Picking stupid fights with Xue Yang was Song Lan's tell when he was anxious. Xue Yang thought it was hilarious and did his best to be more of a brat.
"No, but he was nagging, so I spat toothpaste onto the bathroom mirror, and he almost had an aneurysm." Xue Yang cackled, and Xingchen tightened their fingers in his hair.
"A-Yang…"
Xue Yang moaned softly. "I cleaned it up," he mumbled.
"Good boy." Xingchen leaned up, pressing their lips to Xue Yang's. The kiss was quick, but the shimmer of something more lingered. It wrapped around Xue Yang, and Xingchen knew Xue Yang was involved somehow in whatever this vision was.
Xue Yang muttered something, groaned, and stood up. "Song Lan said to get you so we can go to the farmer's market."
"Mmm. Make sure you wear a jacket," Xingchen said, swinging their legs off the couch. Xue Yang gave him a toothy grin.
"What if I don't wanna?"
"It's cold even though it's sunny."
Xue Yang laughed. "What are you? My parent?"
Xingchen grinned, "You know you like it when I take care of you," they said, smirking. Xue Yang laughed again and disappeared down the hall. Xingchen shook his head, smiling, and joined Song Lan in the foyer, taking their offered coat. Xingchen grabbed their umbrella. Song Lan glanced between them and the sun streaming in the window, but didn't comment. Which was good because knowing it'd rain later was a secret between them and the wind.
Xingchen wrapped their arms around him, resting their head on his shoulder. "Do you have the list, Zichen?"
"Always," Song Lan said, wrapping an arm around Xingchen's waist. Xingchen sighed. Their headache persisted, but over the years, they'd found it wasn't as strong if they were around others since their vision had more to focus on. When Xingchen was younger, they were often locked away as punishment for the headaches and the visions. That always made it worse.
Something like the farmer's market was a perfect distraction.
It used to frustrate Xingchen that there was no way to speed up the process, but they'd gotten good at waiting. Hopefully, it'd come to them before the end of the day.
The farmer's market was always well attended. Xingchen walked arm in arm with both Xue Yang and Song Lan, breathing in the crisp air. Different smells on the breeze made Xingchen turn their head. The light fractured for a moment, and they saw people who weren't there walking on the overgrown path. It was hard to discern where they were looking in the future.
And then it was gone.
The wind whispered as it fluttered by, and after another blink, everything resettled, and Xingchen let their boyfriends tug them along to the fresh produce.
"We need everything but carrots," Song Lan said. "I have had enough of those."
Xingchen was always tasked with picking things out. They knew what was good and what would spoil soon.
"Get something big to stuff inside of me," Xue Yang said and cackled at Song Lan's disgusted face. Xingchen stifled their laugh on their shoulder.
"A-Yang, we promised we wouldn't after the potato thing."
"I still hate you for that, by the way," Song Lan said, and Xue Yang laughed harder.
"But your face was so good." Xue Yang dodged Song Lan's swipe, and Xingchen watched the shimmer ghost across Xue Yang like smoke.
During their teenage years, Xingchen had learned not to read that as a bad omen even if it looked like one. Now, they watched with curiosity.
"Why are you grinning to yourself?" Xue Yang asked. Xingchen shrugged.
"Things are just interesting." They moved along, opening their umbrella as they joined Song Lan by the jam. Xue Yang followed.
"Tell me more," he said, leaning against Song Lan. "Any metaphorical puzzles?"
Song Lan groaned softly, and Xue Yang's eyes sparkled. Xingchen laughed. "You know it's not like that." Xingchen's sight gave them direct information, which people hated. Sometimes it took longer to convey that information, but they always got the answer in the end.
"I want to know now," Xue Yang groaned.
"I'd just rather you weren't in pain," Song Lan mumbled. Xingchen squeezed his arm.
"It's better here, Zichen, don't worry."
"Well, is there anything interesting here?" Xue Yang asked. "Any filthy secrets? Anything fun?" He wiggled his eyebrows. Xue Yang always wanted to know everything Xingchen saw, but the dirty secrets were his favorite.
"Well, I do know Zichen made you-"
"That's different, Xingchen," Xue Yang said, cutting them off. Xingchen laughed, and both their boyfriends turned beet red.
"Well, how about it'll rain soon?"
They walked home in silence. Song Lan and Xue Yang soaked in the soft pour of rain, and Xingchen tucked dry under their umbrella. Xingchen had always enjoyed being aware of the weather, and they'd stopped trying to get people to listen.
Even though Xingchen knew Song Lan and Xue Yang would listen, it was more enjoyable to watch them walk through the rain, soaking wet.
"Are we fucking home yet?" Xue Yang grumbled again. Xingchen hummed.
"I'll purposely walk slower if you don't shut up," Song Lan snapped. Xingchen laughed until it turned into a gasp. They stopped as the world shimmered. Song Lan and Xue Yang continued to bicker, but it sounded far away as a different scene materialized.
Xingchen watched, curious.
And then Xingchen paled. Their visions never showed death. Something about how death was never sure until it was, but Xingchen had seen visions like this before. It was the kind they learned to be quiet about first.
"Xingchen?" Xue Yang broke the spell. The shimmer faded, and what Xingchen had seen faded like smoke.
"Hmm?
"You're white as a ghost," Song Lan told him.
"Oh." Xingchen looked at their hands, then at the others. "Meng Yao will be arrested tonight for murder. He will be found guilty," Xingchen said, and the other two gaped.
"Excuse me?" Xue Yang finally snapped. "That fucking guy?!" Meng Yao had been Xue Yang's employer once.
"Xingchen…" Song Lan sighed.
"It's fine," Xingchen said. "He's already committed the murder."
Song Lan looked green. "That doesn't make it better."
"You asked," Xingchen said. This was definitely one of the bigger things they'd seen, which explained why the headache had been so bad.
"Who?" Song Lan asked quietly, but Xue Yang interrupted.
"Who was it? Did I help?" Xue Yang sounded and looked panicky. "Are they coming for me?"
"Did you kill anyone?" Song Lan snapped, grabbing Xue Yang's shoulders.
"I don't fucking know!" Xue Yang shouted, shoving Song Lan.
"Guys-" Xingchen tried but was ignored.
" I don't think I killed anyone. Not intentionally, at least," Xue Yang said.
"Oh my fucking god!" Song Lan threw his hands up.
"You knew I did shady shit! I always said Meng Yao was a shifty fucker, and now he's rich and powerful!"
"I don't sit around thinking it involved murder!" Song Lan sapped. Xingchen tried to cut in again and was ignored.
"So now you think I'm a fucking murderer?" Xue Yang asked.
"No, no." Song Lan ran his hands through his short hair.
"You do!" Xue Yang accused.
"Well-"
"Wait!" Xingchen screamed before someone said something they'd regret. The rain whispered their worry, and Xingchen heeded it. Their boyfriends turned to them. "Only Meng Yao is guilty," Xingchen said louder.
"Are you sure?" Both Song Lan and Xue Yang asked in unison.
It hadn't been part of the vision, but Xingchen felt sure it was. They nodded, but Song Lan and Xue Yang didn't look convinced.
"Let's continue home. You guys are wet," Xingchen said, changing the subject and shooing them along.
"But-" Xue Yang started.
Xingchen shushed him. "When we're home."
Xue Yang glanced at Song Lan. Several emotions crossed over Song Lan's face before he finally nodded, resigned.
"Let's go." Xingchen linked arms with Song Lan and offered their other arm to Xue Yang.
*********
Once home, Xingchen urged their lovers to put on warm, dry clothes since they started arguing again in loud whispers while Xingchen unlocked the door.
"Please," Xingchen tried. Xue Yang stomped off. "He's afraid, and you're making it worse!" Xingchen hissed at Song Lan. "You know how much he hates the idea of disappointing you."
"I know. I know," Song Lan sighed. "It's anxiety-"
"Which isn't an excuse," Xingchen cuts in.
"I know I just… I don't know."
"It'll be okay, Zichen. Trust me." Xingchen turned to the kitchen to make tea, squeezing Song Lan's shoulder reassuringly as they passed. Song Lan sighed again before disappearing down the hall.
As the tea steeped, Xingchen saw the TV remote shimmer. It must be time already. They picked it up automatically, turning the TV on low and heading back to the kitchen. The report covered a local fall festival that was hit by unexpected rain.
"I swear I didn't fucking kill anyone!" Xue Yang shouted down the hallway. "Stop acting as if I did!" Xingchen rolled their eyes.
"I'm not doing anything!"
"Yes, you are!" Xue Yang snapped.
Song Lan rounded the corner. "I swear to god, Xingchen," Song Lan started, but Xingchen shook their head.
"The wind told me he's clear," Xingchen insisted, offering Song Lan tea.
Song Lan took it, grumbling as Xue Yang stomped over to them. "I worked for him a long time ago," Xue Yang hissed, but from how twitchy he was, Xingchen could tell he was anxious.
"We believe you," Xingchen said, because at least they did.
"Do-" Xue Yang was cut off by a breaking news story. Police had surrounded the Jin estate.
"Turn it up," Song Lan said as they all stared.
Jin Guangyao is being arrested in connection with Nie Mingjue's death a few years ago…
Xue Yang sighed. "Okay, Nie Mingjue was alive during and well after I worked with Meng Yao." His relief was palpable, and Xingchen smiled.
"Didn't you say it was murder?" Song Lan asked, and Xingchen nodded.
"I did. It was," Xingchen said. They'd seen the charges and the sentence. Meng Yao was guilty of murder.
"Wow. Talk about rich people problems," Song Lan said, and Xue Yang cackled.
"Fuck, you're so funny, Zichen," he said, slinging an arm around Song Lan.
Song Lan grunted. "Don't call me that, he mumbled. Xingchen smiled. Out of the corner of their eye, the stove glinted, and a faint image of the three of them bustled around the kitchen together.
"How about we make soup tonight?" Xingchen suggested.
"Hell yeah, I'll get the knife!" Xue Yang shouted, taking off. Song Lan sighed and glanced at Xingchen.
"You're sure he's not a murderer, too, right?" Song Lan asked, and Xingchen laughed, shooing Song Lan towards the kitchen.
"He's not," Xingchen said. Xue Yang wasn't.
At least not in this life, but no one else needed to know that.