Chapter Text
Jingyi
Hypothetically speaking
How difficult would it be
to completely avoid seeing someone who stays opposite you
Asking for a friend
Jin Ling
Is this friend in the room with us right now?
Zizhen
Is this friend in the room opposite to you right now?
Jin Ling
Lmaooo
Wait what
Zizhen
Yeah Jingyi found out last night when he got back lol
Jin Ling
Wow
Tough luck
Jingyi
Anybody up to offering actual advice
Jin Ling
Not really actually
I am up to getting breakfast though
The dining halls are open already
I’ll find y’all at the one at your building, lucky bastards
The closest one to me is like 10min away
Zizhen
Dude
Your room is the size of mine and Jingyi’s combined and then some
Jingyi
You know what breakfast actually does sound good
Fuck y’all for not helping at all though
Jingyi spends the whole weekend out. He tags along Zizhen to check out pickleball even though he has absolutely no interest in it, follows Jin Ling shopping just to sit outside the changing room giving him a thumbs up for every article of clothing he comes out parading, even decides to go on a walk at night for the sake of it. The listlessness in him is large and uncomfortable, but it's still better than having to face the inevitable.
It happens anyway.
It happens when he comes back in the middle of the night, because of course it would happen when he's tired and unobservant. He’s had his back turned, trying to find the right key for his door when he hears the one opposite him open and the sound of someone's shoes against the carpeted hallway floor.
“Jingyi?”
He's sure his heart stopped in that moment. Hearing his voice echo in the stairway was one thing, sure, but hearing his name being uttered like that again was just…something else. He could hear himself breathe, could feel the weight of expectancy from Sizhui as he let the seconds of silence slip past. He should turn around, he really should just out of basic courtesy at the very least, but nothing in him wants to.
“Hey."
Perhaps he would have said more, doubtfully so, but any words die right in his throat as he came face to face with Sizhui. Sizhui, whom he hasn’t seen in 5 years. Sizhui, who has taken these 5 years to grow taller and into his shoulders, whose boyishness has waned without taking away its softness, who is now right in front of him, large eyes wide and bright and disarming. They’re close enough that Jingyi can see the freckles on his face, how he’s gotten tanner, how his gaze stayed discomfitingly arresting. In his hoodie and joggers he is altogether both achingly familiar and as distant as a thousand mile berth. Jingyi puts up a smile and fights the immense urge to look away.
“I…I can’t believe it’s you, Jingyi. I saw the name on the door and I just couldn’t believe it. I told myself it could be someone else but I…I really did hope it would be you.” The words rush out of Sizhui clumsily, earnestly. He’s moving forward and for a split second Jingyi thinks Sizhui is about to grab his hands, and he cannot help but see double. He sees Sizhui, 14, at the airport, his hands clasping Jingyi’s so tight it cut off his blood circulation. He can hear the raw pleading in his voice as he whispered sorry, I’m so sorry and you’ll still talk to me right, tell me you’ll still talk to me, please. He remembers prying Sizhui’s hands away from his, remembers the way his chest caved in as he saw Sizhui walk into the departure hall.
Jingyi can’t take it. He looks down just in time to see, from the corner of his eyes, Sizhui's hands neatly tucked into each other, drawn close to his own body.
“Yeah, I…I didn’t expect to see you too,” is all Jingyi ends up mustering.
“I-” Sizhui is about to begin again, but Jingyi interrupts him fast.
“I-I’ve got a class at 9am tomorrow so I really should be going to bed. We can, uh, catch up some time later."
Jingyi mumbles something akin to “good night”, before turning his back on the other boy to attend to the serious business of opening his door. He knows he’s being rude but he doesn’t care, Jingyi just wants to flee and the key is not entering the keyhole, why would this happen to him right now of all times. He pretends not to hear, from behind him, the way Sizhui exhales, short and sharp.
"Yeah, no, that makes sense. I'll…I'll see you around, yeah?"
Shoe shuffling, a small pause before a quiet "good night" is uttered in return, and Jingyi exhales in relief as silently as he can when he hears the door click behind him.
As he enters his room, adrenaline and panic and shock all melting off, Jingyi surprises himself with how bitter he feels. That tell-tale stomach churning and something much worse that he hasn't felt in years sit within him like an unwelcome guest. You shouldn’t be here, Jingyi thinks. You left and you weren’t supposed to come back. You said you couldn’t see yourself coming back. You told me that. You kept telling me that. I shouldn't have to feel this way again. The voice within Jingyi is starting to sound more and more accusatory, more and more hysterical. He feels 14 again, hearing the news for the first time. Or in the airport, with his fists balled and his nails digging straight into the flesh of his palm so hard it bled. Or everyday for weeks on end, the anger and hatred and desolation that he just could not explain to anyone, not even himself, roiling and simmering just beneath the surface of his skin.
Jingyi switches the lights off, but he doesn't get any sleep till the sun rises.
Jingyi’s family moved into the neighborhood when he was 4.
He doesn't remember much from then, but he does remember how he became friends with Sizhui. Jingyi was never the type of kid to actively make friends with others- he’d have friends he’d play with and talk to, but he remembers very clearly not finding most of them particularly interesting. Sizhui was the exception. Sizhui, who was usually in the morning session of kindergarten, had so happen to end up in an afternoon session one day. Jingyi remembers Sizhui clutching his little train lunch box, smiling shyly as the afternoon session teachers introduced him to the other kids. The teachers put him next to Jingyi and by the end of that day Jingyi had already decided this one, this boy with the big doe eyes that spoke for him more than he actually did, was going to be his best friend.
“It’s only because you liked my train lunch box,” Sizhui had said years later, laughing.
Possible, Jingyi thought, because there wasn’t any specific reason Sizhui stood out to him. Jingyi thinks of his mind like a camera, zoomed out, taking swinging snapshots of everything. And when he thinks of Sizhui, he thinks of how the amalgamation of everything little thing must have drawn them together and kept them there.
He thinks of Sizhui with him in kindergarten, taking turns pushing each other on the little swing set they had there. Jingyi going to his house on weekends, calling one of his fathers “Dad” by accident and being teased by said father through their years of growing up. Sizhui entering elementary school with him, when Sizhui started waiting outside Jingyi’s house for him to get ready and walk to school with him every morning. He remembers Sizhui begging his dads to let him enroll in afterschool care, a program ran by their elementary school to take care of the younger ones in the afternoon after school ended in the morning. His dads simply ended up inviting Jingyi over after school instead. It started as once or twice a week, but it progressed to Jingyi having the spare key to their house. It almost felt like Jingyi was living with them, which in hindsight was quite shameless of his parents for allowing that to happen, what with having their son leeching off another family’s resources, but then again they were too preoccupied with his younger siblings then to really care. Sizhui knew that, he thinks. Perhaps he didn’t know the specifics, but he knew enough. Jingyi never explicitly spoke about it, but Sizhui was Sizhui, and Sizhui just always knew him and always cared for him.
The thing about Sizhui’s care was that it never made Jingyi feel like he was being pitied. Sizhui would share his things with him, but he’d playfully ask for Jingyi’s stuff too. And it was clear where he learnt to treat others so well and so gently from- Jingyi thinks of Mr Wei, who always insisted on not being called uncle or mister because it “made him feel old”, who would pick them up after school and let them mess around in his workshop. He cooked for them, hung out with them, even played Mario Kart with them and rarely let them win because “losing helps build character” according to him. And Mr Lan too, whom he mostly only saw either during dinner time if he stayed around, or just as he was leaving for home. Jingyi stayed a mere block away, but Mr Lan would always offer to drive or walk him home. There’s a limited edition Ultraman figurine still standing on the shelf above his desk at home, and it was bought for him by none other than Mr Lan when he went on a business trip and passed by a convention that somehow was also selling figurines of Jingyi’s favorite TV show character. After all these years, Jingyi still cannot bear to put it away.
Jingyi manages to not have to speak to Sizhui for weeks. It’s easy to chalk it up to the start of college where every freshman is trying their best to acclimatize and make new friends, and Jingyi hopes that is what Sizhui thinks every time Jingyi speedwalks past him in the dorm halls, or at the dining hall, or sometimes even on campus buildings, shooting him the briefest and tightest smile that would make an onlooker believe they could not be anything but acquaintances.
“Which we are, technically. Honestly, less than that,” Jingyi mentions to Zizhen over lunch. The only good thing about the liberal arts department not having enough funding is that the literature and history departments are situated in the same building, which means Jingyi has Zizhen to have lunch with frequently.
“Wait so let me get a clearer picture of this. You don’t want to be friends with him again because…you’re angry that he had to leave then? Is that it?”
When Zizhen puts it like this, it does make Jingyi look incredibly silly.
“I mean, it was really more of the fact that he told me less than a month before he was going to go when he had already made the choice long before.”
“Fair,” Zizhen takes another stab at the sordid piece of dry chicken on his plate before continuing. Dining hall food was only good for the first week. “But he was, what, 14? 15? People do stupid things when they’re young. Maybe he was just trying to be very sure about it.”
“I know, but why didn’t he tell me anything at all? I heard virtually nothing about this new school that scouted him, or the interviews and tests he did after. Nothing about the whole process until it was over and he had already decided to up and leave for good.” Jingyi can hear the bitterness seep into his voice again.
Zizhen hums noncommittally.
“I don’t know Sizhui like that, but he never struck me as someone to do something without good reason.”
“Yeah well, he didn’t offer any reason at all!”
From the next table, a bunch of girls turn around to the sound of Jingyi’s raised voice. Zizhen simply sighs, holding Jingyi’s gaze.
“If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought this happened a year ago rather than six because you’re really holding on to this anger.”
“Well, if Jin Ling did this to you, you’d feel the same.”
“Maybe at the start, sure, but not for this long. What’s the use of staying angry, especially when you don’t even know the exact reason for why you’re still this angry?"
The steadily mounting anger and frustration screech to a halt within Jingyi.
“I…I know why I’m angry.” Jingyi tries to retort petulantly but the words come out more like a plea to be believed.
“Okay, then tell me why you’re still so angry.”
There’s a beat of silence. Jingyi squirms under the cool gaze of Zizhen.
“He was my best friend. I grew up with him. I think I deserved some answers.”
“It’s not about that. I’m not asking why you were angry then . I’m asking why you are as angry now as you were then.”
That catches Jingyi off guard. Jingyi never quite gave himself the space to rationalize the anger; rationalizing the anger meant having to fully face the fact that Sizhui was gone for good. Knowing it on the tip of your tongue when people around you ask is one thing. Understanding the aftermath of it and actively living in its wake is something much, much different.
“Damn, with the way you’re questioning me you might as well be a psychologist instead. Not too late to change majors you know," Jingyi jokes after moment of silence.
All the years of friendship with Zizhen lends Jingyi knowledge that the other must have wanted to say something akin to “don’t change the topic”, but he doesn’t because this is the farthest he would ever push Jingyi to talk. Jingyi is thankful for that. All Zizhen does is roll his eyes at this weak attempt at diversion.
“Go think about what I said by yourself. Also, if I were your psychologist I’d have quit a long, long time ago. Not worth the money for sure.”
“Hey!”
Jingyi does think about it by himself. He spends a lot of time thinking about it actually, because Zizhen’s words genuinely caught him off-kilter. And when he thinks about it, Jingyi doesn’t find himself incredibly petty. Maybe a little, but he tends to forget his grudges and let things be out of convenience. It’s tiring to hold a grudge. For a moment, he wonders if he’s been letting this wear him out.
He starts seeing Sizhui frequent the library close to their dorm too, the one Jingyi holes up in every weekday night to finish his stupid essays. Sizhui always goes alone, and Jingyi watches from his self-proclaimed personal nook of the library as Sizhui sits by the table near the windows. If Sizhui knows Jingyi is just sitting a mere couple seats away from him, he doesn’t act on it. He simply comes in every night close to 9pm, opens up his laptop to begin studying, shuts it close once midnight hits, and leaves. Every single night. Like clockwork.
“You’re a creep, dude,” Jin Ling comments. Sometimes he joins him for fun, studying the way a business student would- barely. And for most part he’s just making it harder for Jingyi to study. That much Jingyi voices out, which earns him a retort.
“What studying are you even doing? You’re just creepily watching Sizhui from your shadowy corner. And he’s not even doing anything interesting. World’s most boring target for people watching honestly, considering he’s actually doing his work, unlike someone here.”
“Say it louder won’t you, I’m practically begging for the entire library, especially Sizhui, to hear you.”
Jin Ling, ever mature, begins motioning speaking louder and Jingyi, ever thin-skinned, immediately claps a hand over his mouth.
“Just go talk to him. He wants to talk to you, you clearly are interested in sticking your nose into his personal business, win-win.” Jin Ling states drily as he pries Jingyi’s hand off.
“I do not want to stick my nose into his personal business.”
“Huh, could’ve fooled me.”
But Jingyi is Jingyi, so he doesn’t do anything about it. He continues visiting the library every night, continues half-watching Sizhui from his corner (for security reasons of course, just in case he walks over and Jingyi has to find a way to camouflage into bookshelves), continues to wait for half an hour after Sizhui leaves before going back himself. He lets Jin Ling continue yapping about how weird he’s being, because the alternative of him actually doing anything to change status quo is much, much worse. It goes swimmingly calm, until of course, Murphy’s law. The one night Jingyi has to leave the library early because he has an 8am midterm the next morning, he manages both to forget to look at the weather forecast that morning and to forget to bring an umbrella. It’s 11pm, the rain is positively frightful, and he’s standing right outside of the damned library wondering if it’s worth calling Zizhen to pick him up. Zizhen would definitely do it, but horror of horrors, Jingyi is now going to have to feel bad about waking Zizhen up in the middle of the night for his own careless mistake.
He’s considering just making a mad dash back to the dorms when he gets on a tap on his shoulder.
“If you didn’t bring your umbrella, we can share mine.”
Standing behind him is Sizhui, umbrella in hand, giving him the smallest, most hesitant smile. Jingyi knows he deserves it for the way he’s been avoiding Sizhui but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t make him feel horrid. And maybe it’s the regret he has for being rude, or if he really wants to lie to himself, his reluctance to get drenched as he makes his way home, but he mumbles a “that would be great, thanks,” as Sizhui moves forward and they make their way back.
The walk back is silent. It should feel awkward but it strangely doesn’t. For a moment in time they’re back to being kids; Sizhui always remembered to bring his umbrella, and they would always share it when they had to walk to or from school. Jingyi knew that Sizhui loved the sound of rain, be it it hitting the tarmac of their well-worn road or the top of the umbrella, and whenever it was spring shower season they would always walk in silence, listening to the rain all around them. If Jingyi closed his eyes, he would’ve been able to play those memories like a movie right in front of his eyes.
A tsunami of exhaustion crashes through Jingyi abruptly. With the initial shock of seeing Sizhui back again gone, all that is left is how tired Jingyi has been from expending his effort avoiding Sizhui and being angry at him. Each wave of anger came with its accompanying weariness, and with every ebb Jingyi was left feeling more and more distant from the reasons he had been holding on to. Zizhen’s words echo in his mind, and Jingyi finds himself admitting simple truths he had always somewhat already knew: first, that holding on to the anger felt familiar and safe. Second, that holding on to the anger meant not letting Sizhui come close again, so that he wouldn't have to hurt again. Third, that he never stopped missing Sizhui.
Without thought, he turns to look at Sizhui, whose head is cast down as he tries to avoid stepping on puddles. The proximity must mean that Sizhui can feel the slightest movements from Jingyi because before he can look away again Sizhui lifts his head up, catching his gaze. And for a split second they’re just looking at each other, trying to decipher what the other’s expression means. Logically it could not have been more than a couple seconds, but for Jingyi it genuinely feels like minutes crawling by, fixing them in time. Then Sizhui smiles again, less guarded, warmer, more familiar . Sizhui was always meant to be a sweetheart, Jingyi’s mind suddenly proffers, with the way every part of his face was crafted to create a smile that felt exactly like a fireplace in winter.
Jingyi smiles back.
It feels a little different here on out, like something fundamentally shifted back in place after that night.
Turns out, that rain was simply the start of a rainy season so Jingyi and Sizhui start walking back home together every night. They still share Sizhui’s umbrella and they still barely say anything to each other, but with every walk back the tension bleeds away a little bit more. Sizhui doesn’t ask why Jingyi forgets his umbrella every day, and Jingyi doesn’t ask why Sizhui chooses to leave at the same time as him every night. They simply walk side by side, shoulders brushing, till they reach their respective room doors and bid each other good night.
After a week, Sizhui walks over to Jingyi’s table at the library and asks to share it. Jingyi says yes.
The following week, Jingyi falls asleep by the library table and wakes up to Sizhui studying across him, his jacket draped across Jingyi’s shoulders. Sizhui was always shorter than him, but it seems that the years have seen to him becoming broader- the jacket envelopes Jingyi, and when he pulls it off he catches a hint of Sizhui’s cologne, something clean and musky. Jingyi’s stomach flips a little. He doesn't quite know why.
Then, a week later.
Jin Ling
[Attached: pic]
So I guess y’all are friends again huh
Jingyi
Uh
Somewhat
Not exactly but yeah
Also that’s really creepy
Why didn’t you just come over and sit with me and Sizhui
Jin Ling
Nah
Busy
Had to go do literally anything else
Jingyi
……
Jin Ling
So what happened?
Why the sudden change of heart
Jingyi
Long story
I’ll tell you when I see you guys
"...This is much less climatic than I expected. Not very entertaining, 3/10 story."
"Zizhen, is my life a joke to you? Don't answer that."
It's a Friday night and it should be fun bowling with your friends but Jingyi's not only getting absolutely wrecked at what he thought was his second best sport, he's also getting judged by Jin Ling and Zizhen. He leaves out mentioning Sizhui's jacket and how it's now draped over the frame of the chair in his room
"I mean, your interaction with him is limited to sharing a table and an umbrella. I thought you guys were like, going out for lunch and stuff now."
"Zizhen, I have almost every lunch with you, what are you talking about."
"You get my idea."
Jingyi watches as his ball rolls into the gutter, sighing. He takes a seat next to Jin Ling who is currently winning and potentially only half-listening to his story, snorting once in a while. For once Jingyi is thankful for Jin Ling's over-competitive streak.
"If you want to be friends with him again you have to talk to him properly, you know?"
"Who said I wanted to be his friend?"
Both Jin Ling and Zizhen shoot him a withering look at that, to which Jingyi rolls his eyes like the mature young adult he is.
"Yeah, yeah. I know. It's tough and awkward though."
"It wouldn't be tough and awkward once you clear the air and talk to him about how you felt."
The very thought of Jingyi having to talk to Sizhui about how he felt has him a little nauseous. In the past few days he's thought about talking to Sizhui, but he's never even remotely broached the idea of acknowledging the years they never talked. How was he supposed to even mention it? "Sorry I didn't respond to any of your messages because I was too distraught about you leaving for what I assumed to be forever?" That wouldn't cut it. "Sorry for not ever reaching out because I didn't want to have to miss you?" That sounds even worse. What would Sizhui even say to that? Honestly, why has Sizhui been so nice to him? If the roles were reversed, Jingyi thinks he wouldn't have even bothered acknowledging Sizhui. He feels his chest cave in slightly at the thought of that.
But if he does want his best friend back, he knows that talking things out is simply an inevitability.
Damn Zizhen for always being right.
The next time they walk back from the library, Jingyi expends all his mental energy and bravery to talk.
"Hey, are you free for coffee this weekend?"
Jingyi pretends he doesn't see the way Sizhui starts for a moment. But Sizhui is Sizhui, so he's back to being his composed self in a split second.
"Yeah, sure! I'm super free all weekend, so whatever time is good for you is good for me too."
The relaxed joy in Sizhui's voice is unmistakable, a stark contrast to the way Jingyi's a hair's breadth away from a nervous breakdown. Being the one to take the first step was meant to help Jingyi feel in control but the way he doesn't even remember what's supposed to be said next is testament to the very opposite. He wipes his sweaty palms on his pants.
"Cool, cool, I'm free Saturday afternoon so uh, let me know where you'd like to go."
When they reach the dorms, Sizhui reaches his hand out to Jingyi.
"Let me give you my number. Just send me a text so I can have yours too, and we can decide somewhere nice together."
When Jingyi sends Sizhui a text on the spot, he watches as Sizhui's phone screen lights up. And he honestly doesn't mean to be nosy, but he sees as his message pops up the contact name he had personally typed into Sizhui's phone almost a decade ago, down to the silly emojis and the stupid contact photo he took for himself. It makes his heart clench, but not as much as when he notices Sizhui's lockscreen: a picture of the sunset taken from the window of Jingyi's old bedroom, that one time Sizhui had come over instead of the other way around. He had changed his lockscreen that very day, saying something about how the view from Jingyi's tenth floor bedroom window was perfect to oversee their neighborhood. Jingyi didn't think he'd have kept it all this time.
"Oh, I guess you didn't change your number." Sizhui lightly comments, smiling as he tucks his phone away. Jingyi, taking a leaf out of Sizhui's own book, forces himself to look up quickly and to pretend that he hadn't been somehow deeply affected by seeing that.
"Yeah, no reason to change it, unless you count the weird sex bot spam calls I got for a period of time." Jingyi doesn't know why he blurted that out, probably nerves, but when Sizhui laughs, bending over slightly, eyes perfect crescent moons, he decides it's fine anyway.
"Ah Jingyi, I've really missed you." Sizhui says when he recovers.
Sizhui states it so simply, so effortlessly. He probably doesn't even mean it in a serious way, Jingyi thinks. But Jingyi's heart clenches again anyway, with no regard for its owner.
"I've missed you too."