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1.
The first time Jing Yuan purposely hurt himself is when he was 11.
It was a nasty argument with his parents, his parents wanted him to be a member of the realm keeping commission but he wanted to be a cloud knight. As much as he knows that they want what’s best for him, he also can’t stand the idea of living the rest of his life in the realm keeping commission of all things. He desperately wanted to explore the galaxy and live life to its fullest, but he’s been told time and time again that it’s a childish dream and that he should think realistically, so he settled for being a cloud knight.
The guilt he feels for failing to live up to his parents expectations is mentally crushing him, he desperately wants his parents to be proud— even if it’s just for a day or a second— he wants them to feel proud of their only son, yet he can’t do that because of both of his dreams, to be a galaxy ranger and to be a cloud knight. It’s stupid really. He really should just become a member of the realm keeping commission but deep down he knows he could never dedicate his life to it.
Jing Yuan isn’t stupid, he’s heard of people purposely harming themselves, he’s thought about doing it but never did.
until now.
He got up from his bed where he had been laying in, the bed was messy and had a single lion plushie he’s had since childhood on it, and looked for a sharp object, and there he found a sharpener.
He snuck out of his room, careful to not let the door creak too loudly as it’s already night time and his parents are asleep, and took the screwdriver from one of the drawers and sneaked back into his room, and then unscrewing the sharpener blade.
He sat on the floor of his bedroom and held the blade in his hand before lifting up the sleeve to his left arm, the pale skin stared back at him, could he actually go through with this?
The boy gently pressed the blade down onto his left forearm and the action alone makes his stomach churn, he feel nauseous, his head felt lighter and ultimately he ended up grazing his arm.
But that by itself made him feel sick to his stomach, why did he do it? Did he really need to? Guilt washed over him.
Deep down he knew he was afraid of genuinely hurting himself, afraid of his parents finding out.
At the same time, the graze made him feel…better, like his pains had left his body in place of blood.
He stood up from the floor and screwed the blade back in and put it away, then leaving his room to put the screwdriver back where he found it.
The wounds weren’t deep, they’d definitely scab but if he wore long sleeves, nobody would notice.
Jing Yuan told himself that he wouldn’t do it again, it’s just a one time thing.
—
2.
The second time Jing Yuan cuts himself, it’s in the same year, same limb, he cuts skin this time, not enough to bleed, but enough that scabs form over it.
The reason he cut himself again felt so insignificant, yet the words cut deeper than the blade itself.
His parents was lecturing Jing Yuan once again, over what? Something the boy didn’t care enough about to listen, he truly does respect his parents, but after 11 years of listening to their lectures, the words seem to blend together seamlessly.
But a few words stuck out to him.
“You’re so ungrateful, you have a roof over your head, clothes to wear, fresh food and clean water! The least you can do is be a member of the realm keeping commission after everything we did for you” His father had shouted at him.
“We raised you properly, you’re incredibly privileged to be living such a good life! We sacrificed so much just so you could live a good life and this is how you thank us? By rebelling against us? We just want what’s best for you” his mother has said sternly a short while after.
Jing Yuan knows he’s lucky to be living a good life, he knows he’s fortunate just for having things such as clothing, food, water and shelter.
He knew he was privileged to be raised in a good household, he knows they’ve sacrificed a lot just to raise him, he knows, he’s not stupid.
But he still feels guilty, guilty for being so privileged and yet he can’t even use it to its full extent, guilty that others can’t do what he can, guilty that he isn’t good enough for his parents.
Deep down he fears that he isn’t enough, and that he’ll never be enough, the mornings where he can’t bring himself to get up, or take care of himself, or even move, they’re filled with that agonising guilt of not being enough. He stays in bed for hours until he’s forced out and that’s how he knows he isn’t worth enough, because people who are good enough can get out of bed easily, they don’t struggle, they don’t regret being born most days, they don’t wish they could sleep for the rest of their life, it’s just hat Jing Yuan is simply ungrateful and undeserving of everything fortunate .
So, while he’s going back upstairs, he sneaks the screwdriver under his sleeve to hid it as he goes up the stairs.
Once he reaches his room, he locks the door, finds the sharpener and unscrews the blade once again.
He holds the cold sharpener blade in his finger tips and simply observes it. It’s fairly clean and looks unused for the most part, he stops looking at it and presses it to his pale skin again. This time purposefully digging into his skin, it stings— yet it feels so good. This time, it breaks skin, though not enough to bleed, and it feels…liberating. Almost. For just a fleeting moment he felt better, before it wore off, he used the blade to press down onto his skin once more and the feeling came back. He did this one more time before stopping, this time instead of screwing the blade back onto the sharpener, he left it in a drawer underneath some paper, before returning the screwdriver back to its rightful place.
He tells himself that if this becomes a reoccurring thing, he’ll be able to quit whenever he wants.
—
3.
Two years have passed, he’s 13 now, he left home a year ago to be a cloud knight, much to his parents dismay, his time as Jingliu’s student is difficult but rewarding.
But the whole thing is exhausting .
His parents would say he’s being ungrateful again, they would he’s being a brat and should suck it up.
He really should
But everything feels so overwhelming, like the burden of the entire Xianzhou is on his shoulders, some days he dreads training while other days he’s excited to improve .
Though most days it was the former, most days he feels like there are nails holding his body down, some days he wishes he could just succumb to mara and sleep forever.
Of course, he’d never tell anyone about that, he’s rather do Jingliu’s hardest exercises than ever admit that.
But he’s not feeling any better, nothing has, all the days blend into each other.
He thinks back to the blade, that made him feel good, that made him feel better, that made everything better, it was the solution to his problem, it was what he needed, he needs it, he wants it, if he doesn’t cut he’ll never feel better.
He was staying in a small flat alone, knights in training are given a small one bedroom apartment with a small kitchen if they needed one.
Jing Yuan walked to the drawer where he had kept the sharpener blade, he rolled up his left sleeve and held the piece of cold metal in his right hand and pressed the blade down to his left forearm once again.
And everything felt better, for a moment, he felt better, it made him feel something other than the pain of his daily life.
He cut his skin again, again, again and again until there were a total of 10 wounds on his arm.
They all broke skin, but only 4 of them bled, so he stood up from where he was sitting on the floor and entered the bathroom. He rinsed his arm with cold water and pressed some tissues over the wounds for about 2 minutes before checking the scars, they weren’t bleeding anymore, which is good, after around 5 more minutes he throws the tissue in the bathroom bin and dries his arm with a fresh tissue before throwing that in the trash as well, he rolled his sleeve down and went back to his bed.
This is just something he does from time to time, he could quit whenever he wants.
—
4.
The high cloud quintet is a group of people Jing Yuan holds dear to his heart.
But he knows deep down that he is lonely, with how Baiheng and Jingliu are together nearly all the time and Dan Feng and Yingxing are also together most of the time. Jing Yuan tends to spend a fair amount of his free time by himself, something he’s used to, though it doesn’t stop the dull ache in his heart whenever he sees his friends happier without him.
The times where he does hang out with them it, more of then than he’d like, ends up with him feeling more like a fifth wheel, as annoying as it is he’s still grateful he can even have friends this close.
But that deep sense of loneliness is a poison to his mind.
He knows they do care about him, but he also knows as a fact that in a room full of other people they know, he wouldn’t be the one they pick— but at the same time he knows they do genuinely care, and he’s not alone, he’s got his friends and a baby lion he adopted— though at the time he thought it was a grimalkin— nonetheless, he is still not alone.
…But what if he’s wrong? What if he’s lying to himself? What if others are lying to him?
Jing Yuan is a second choice and he knows that, but that doesn’t stop it from hurting— though everything tends to hurt now, his muscles ache after training endlessly not only with Jingliu but also with other cloud knights and by himself, if he isn’t training, then he’ll never be good enough, he’ll never be able to protect everyone, if he can’t protect everyone, then everything he’s done is meaningless.
The pain in his heart also weighs on him, the pain of never being enough, the pain of wanting to just explore the galaxy freely but never being able to do it, the pain of living, of waking up, of getting out of bed.
Everything hurts, so what’s a little bit more pain for him?
Cutting himself became a thing he did whenever he felt bad, whenever he felt like shit, when he felt like Yaoshi should just strike him with mara— no no no, he shouldn’t think like that— but the idea is still there, Jing Yuan cuts to feel better, simple.
Self harm was something he told himself he didn’t rely on but deep down knew that he couldn’t quit even if he tried, he’ll always end up cutting again.
This time, he chose to cut his thighs instead.
In the past, he had cut on his arms, it was fairly easy to cover up considering his uniform was long sleeved, but now it’s getting hotter— despite the sun being artificial, they made sure that when summer came around it got hotter and colder and winter— and covering his arms would raise more suspicion. The scars on his arms had healed, so he could easily say they’re from training, plus, he doesn’t wear shorts— he’s not sure if he even owns a pair— so cutting his thighs is the logical option.
He sat on his bed and took off his trousers, leaving him in his shirt and boxers, he grabbed the blade from the bedside drawer and grazed his left inner thigh, it felt different, he cut again, breaking skin this time, and again, this time there was a bit of blood before, he did that again on his right thigh, a bit of blood again.
Before he knew it, he had cut not only his inner thigh but also there were some scars littered on the front of his thighs, ones that would be a lot more visible.
And also, there was a bit of blood on his bedsheet from the inner thigh scars.
Shit.
He quickly got up, thankfully he hadn’t cut deep enough for the scars to affect his walking too much.
He went into the bathroom and soaked 2 towels and put one on each thigh, pressing down on it, he sat on the edge of the bathtub, the bathroom itself is an average size, a bathtub, toilet and a sink with a mirror that doubled as a cabinet which he kept medical supplies in.
Jing Yuan knew that he couldn’t bring himself to quit now, it’s helped him for so many years why should he? Why should he give up the one thing that made him feel better.
He sat on the ledge of the tub for around 15 more minutes before remembering he needs to wash his bedsheet.
He sat up and put the towels in the bucket he put dirty clothes/towels in, his thighs hurt but not too much that it was unbearable, he got a fresh towel and gently dried his thighs.
Once he got back to his room, he took the bedsheet off and put it in the laundry bucket in the bathroom.
Eventually, he walked back to his bed, not bothering with his trousers.
He laid in his messy bed with a shirt and boxers on, his bed had the same lion plushie along side new plushies, despite how childish it is, he can’t help but attached to them, after all, Baiheng had won some of them and gave them to him-
…ah
That’s right, the whole reason he relapsed was because he felt like he didn’t mean shit to his friends, maybe this revelation would’ve been better before he sliced up his thighs, though he supposes it was a good question if his friends do value him, but at the same time he felt so stupid for questioning it, was he really alone or did he just feel lonely?
Regret washed over Jing Yuan, he held onto the lion plushie which had stayed by his side since he was a child as he laid on his side, his white hair wasn’t tied back like it usually was, his long fluffy hair fanned him.
He asked the lion plushie
“Do you think i’ll be lonely forever? I mean i know i have everyone else but…what if i never do feel fulfilled— i mean i am- it’s just- what if i always feel like i’m alone, even if i’m in a crowd of people?”
He asked the stuffed lion despite knowing it won’t reply, and a moment later he spoke up in a quieter voice
“Why should i carry on living?”
Once again he was met with silence, he clung onto the stuffed lion before a few tears slipped from the corner of his eyes.
He heard Mimi faintly run around his flat, he needs to feed her, so he got up from his bed after a moment, rubbed his eyes and walked out of his room towards the lion and fed her, he watched as she ate the food without any care in the world.
He can’t quit cutting himself, even if everyone else leaves him, he’ll always have his blade.
—
5.
The next major time Jing Yuan relapses is when he was recently appointed as the lieutenant of the Luofu, and he’s pretty damn proud of himself.
The high cloud quintet celebrated with alcohol and food that day, ever since the time he cut his thighs, somehow the quintet grew closer as a whole group, perhaps Lan had answered his prayers, but whether Lan did or didn’t wasn’t important, what was important was that Jing Yuan felt less alone. Mimi had grown so much and was more active and playful— though she’s always been very energetic, like everything seemed a little bit better, the days where he felt like there was nothing to live for decreased, even though it was still there. He hasn’t quit cutting himself but overall he’s been doing it less often, he’s getting better, the last time he had self harmed was around a bit more than 2 months ago.
He was 2 months and 15 days clean.
But as he’s returning home alone from the celebration, he overhears a few lower rank cloud knights talk about him.
“Y’know that Jing Yuan guy? I bet his parents payed for him to be lieutenant, or maybe he slept his way to the top”
“I know, he’s just some rich kid, i bet all his accomplishments were done by someone else and he just took credit for it”
The words stung, he knows people are going to be envious of him, but that doesn’t stop it from helping.
Deep within him, he feels as though all his accomplishments only happened by pure luck, it was pure luck Jingliu took him in, it was pure luck he became lieutenant, it was pure luck that he came from a wealthy family.
Jing Yuan isn’t deserving of anything, not his title, not his accomplishments, and certainly not his friends.
As he arrives to his house, still the same and unchanging, he knows what he’s going to do.
He unlocks his door with his key, which has a lion keychain that resembles Mimi, he had bought for himself a while back, and entered, wiping his shoes at the front door’s mat and taking them off, he walks upstairs to his room, passing the sleeping lion and opens the drawer which has his blade hidden under a few useless objects.
Despite all the change in his life, the sharpener blade was the only constant, always there for him when he felt low.
When he got back to his room he got changed out of his uniform and wore a lilac long sleeved shirt with baggy black trousers that was easy to roll up, he had always valued comfort in his clothing.
He rolled up his sleeves and started on his right arm, digging the blade into his skin, as he watched a drop of blood roll down his forearm, he does it again, another scar next to the previous, though this time it doesn’t bleed, it just breaks skin.
The process makes Jing Yuan feel better, it always has, as more scars are made on his arm, he moves to cut his left arm and thighs as well.
After a few more cuts, he decides he feels good enough to stop now.
He gets up and does the exact same thing he’s done before, go to the bathroom and clean up, like he always does.
As he sits on the edge of the bathtub, wet towels over the places he had cut himself, a wave of regret washed over Jing Yuan.
He really had cut himself over the words of others, how pathetic is he? He’s the lieutenant and can’t even handle a couple of insults? He is supposed to protect the Luofu and he can’t even stop himself from cutting after a few mean words?
Eventually, he snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of Mimi’s steps and he threw the wet tissues out and walked back to his bed and laid on his stomach, the guilt drowned his mind.
Fuck. He had been clean for 2 months and 15 days and now he messed it all up, all his progress was for nothing, everything he did was for nothing, or doesn’t matter how long he stays clean, he’ll always end up cutting again, everything he does it pointless.
Entering his room he notices Mimi was laying on the long side on his mattress, curled up on his bed, she looked very comfortable.
He laid in his bed next to her and rolled up his sleeves, palms facing the ceilings, the light was off but he could still faintly see the scars because of the lights that peaked through his window, the curtains were drawn back and he could see the artificial moon. He could see the fresh scars along side the faded and old scars, it’s strange really, he now can’t remember a time where his arms were completely clear and lacking scars. Though people normally don’t have a reason to look at their arms more than once in a day if there’s nothing to look at.
He brought his arms back down to his side and tossed and turned a bit before ultimately deciding to lay next to his white lion and he held onto her, petting her soft white fur, how stupid really, being so soft and gentle, he’s the lieutenant.
From time to time he wonders what it would be like to reach out and get help, but the idea of getting help felt strange, but maybe…
Regardless, he held the lion close to himself and closed his eyes, succumbing to the artificial night.
—
+1
Jing Yuan really should’ve thought this through.
To be fair to him, he spent most of his life thinking 4 steps ahead, specifically when he’s sober
In this case, he was pretty damn drunk
His day had been like any other, he woke up exhausted again, it’s been happening for 3 weeks now, where he wakes up and regrets existing, then he goes back to sleep for around 10 minutes before waking up and slowly getting out of bed and doing his morning routine and would go work as the lieutenant, train with the other cloud knights and then him and his friends would all hang out before returning to their own homes.
Overall the day was fine, it was alright, it was better when his friends were around— the small and petty argument with Yingxing that was ultimately harmless was entertaining— Jing Yuan felt numb afterwards.
His thoughts once he got home was that the world was moving so fast, almost like the wind rushing past him, everything moved and he was in place, it was like being at a festival alone, everyone is moving, laughing, talking, eating, they’re doing something and Jing Yuan is by himself, a bystander to the world, he just wanted everything to stop for a moment, he wanted a break from life itself.
He first went upstairs to his room, the decor is mostly the same, his plushies are still on his bed, he opens his wardrobe and finds some comfortable clothing, a short sleeves light blue shirt with grey trousers, the short sleeves revealed scars, dark scabs had already formed on top of them, from around a bit more than a week ago, he can barely remember the reason for his relapse but that’s besides the point. He then walked downstairs to his kitchen.
He sat in his kitchen, after being promoted to Lieutenant he had the opportunity to move out of his small flat and into a medium sized house, it’s a fairly nice house. He sat in one of the chairs and laid his head on the table, eyeing his alcohol cabinet, there was always something in that cabinet.
He slowly got up and opened the cabinet and took out the first bottle he found and poured himself a cup when he got to the table and sat down, and then he poured another, and another, and another until he feels somewhat better, and yet it’s not enough; he knows what he needs.
Not bothering with going back up the stairs, he grabbed one of the smaller knives from the knife block and cut his arms, the cuts bled, the blood slowly trickled down his forearm, the cold metal felt fresh to him, like a breath of fresh air and everything felt better, even if it was for a moment.
Fresh scars on his arm that were bleeding.
He washed the knife as best as he could considering he’s drunk— not wanting any bacteria on it, and returned the knife close to its spot before he returned to his chair and drank a bit more, not caring about his bleeding forearms, and a wave of tiredness washed over him. His eyes watched the scars on his arm and the blood, he felt heavy and he rested his head on the table, and promised to wake himself up in around 10 minutes and clean up everything.
…
He wasn’t expecting to wake up in his bed, and he especially wasn’t expecting his friends to be sitting beside his bed when he woke up.
His right arm felt tight, like there was something wrapped around it.
Oh
oh
They know, they found out, didn’t they?
The first to notice him was Baiheng, who rushed over to Jing Yuan and held him tightly in her arms.
“A-Yuan! Are you okay? We saw Mimi outside in you front garden and were confused because you don’t normally let Mimi out unless your also there and then- and then we went in and- and we found you on the table asleep and we saw the scars and- and-“
Baiheng was tearing up as she spoke, stark contrast really, despite her normally cheerful and upbeat nature she doesn’t normally cry this much, the artificial sun from his bedroom window reflected her tears making it glow, Jingliu took her aside and downstairs to the kitchen, presumably to get her some water.
Ah…he forgot to lock his door, that’s annoying, he really should lock it now— unless they’ve already locked his door, which would be really convenient, especially because the bed is warm now, it would be really nice if he could just lay in it and nap for a little while-
“Hey, A-Yuan, focus while we’re talking…please”
Yingxing.
For once, his tone sounded…different? Like it was softer, more gentle almost. This was also the first time Jing Yuan had ever heard him plead.
But you could definitely hear pain in his voice, and listening intently, Jing Yuan could hear a slight rasp, and looking closely he noticed redness in his nose and general face as well as his ears and eyes, which also seemed to be somewhat puffy.
There was warmth on Jing Yuan hands, it was Yingxing’s own hands, calloused and rough, providing a soft and gentle comfort to his heart, his fingers slowly caressed Jing Yuan’s hands.
Jing Yuan looked over to Dan Feng, his whole demeanour seemed different, His eyes seem redder as well and he’s slightly trembling, his head was faced away from Jing Yuan, though it most likely for his own sake.
“Right…sorry, you were saying?” Jing Yuan said, his voice sounded tired, yet he still tried to sound normal.
“I…how long?” The blacksmith managed to get it out of his throat
Jing Yuan was taken aback by that.
He was expecting anything else, a harsh reprimanded, screaming, anything.
but not empathy.
“Since…for a few years now” he muttered, he sounded so weak and tired.
The response made both Yingxing and Dan Feng gasp quietly before the former took his hands into his own and softly rubbed his fingers over Jing Yuan’s hands.
“Look…i won’t force you to tell me what- or why- you…hurt yourself…but if you ever, and i mean ever, need to talk to someone, you can always talk to me, Dan Feng, Jingliu, Baiheng or just anyone you trust, just please…don’t bottle up your emotions”
the words sounded so surreal, to hear someone say that they and others genuinely care for him.
That’s truly surreal.
The idea of other people truly caring for him.
Dan Feng then spoke up, his tone was nearly the same to someone who doesn’t know him very well, but being one of his closest friends he understood that Dan Feng was worried, upset even if you’re stretching it.
“Your wounds aren’t too deep, but just…don’t do it again, it’s not going to make you feel any better in the long run”
It’s clear to him that he’s worried.
“Mhm”
That’s it. That’s all he can get out of his throat, just a sound. How pathetic, he told himself.
They both looked at each other, a silent agreement almost.
“We’re going to go check on Baiheng, if you need anything we’ll all be downstairs” Dan Feng said to Jing Yuan.
And the two of them went downstairs.
It’s strange, he’d thought about how he would react if someone found out, maybe he would cry, or shout and scream, or silently sob into their arms.
But no, all that awaited him was a numb sense of regret.
Regret for ever starting and regret for getting so careless and letting them find out.
And there was a numbing feeling that came with it, almost like indifference, a numbing feeling that told him that nothing really mattered, if he cut himself again, he didn’t need to let them know and even if they did know would they care?
He knows the answer now, they would care
But does he? Maybe.
He sat upright in his bed, the bedsheets felt clean, the fake sun shone brightly into his room, brightening the light blue quilt cover, and he world felt silent for once
If he went back to sleep right now, would anyone notice? It would only be for a minute, and it’s the perfect time to take a small nap.
Just as Jing Yuan was about to lay back down and close his eyes, he heard the sound of his friends talking. Now he isn’t the type of person to be nosy, but he is curious as to what they’re talking about.
He crept slowly to the top of the staircase where they wouldn’t see him and he could hear them somewhat clearly, after all his lower floor is completely open, the kitchen and living room have no walls in between them.
The sound of his friends voices reached his ears after getting closer to them, it’s clear they don’t want him listening.
“What do we do? A-Yuan is hurting and we don’t know how to help!”
Baiheng. Her voice is worried like a mother’s, she’s clearly distressed.
“We can’t just send him over to any other therapist, he’s the lieutenant, if the word gets out he’s getting mental help, Aeons knows what that could do to his reputation”
Dan Feng. Always so pragmatic, every word he speaks is carefully thought out, but now you could hear the genuine worry and concern for him.
“His reputation doesn’t matter now, he needs help. We should send him to one of those hospitals, they’ll know what to do.”
Jingliu. It’s strange hearing her say something so close to “I care about you”, but the idea of going to a mental hospital was terrifying. The horror stories that come from there is not something Jing Yuan would like to experience first hand.
“We aren’t sending A-Yuan to a damn mental hospital. I say we try to help him, and if that fails then we get him a therapist.”
Yingxing. This is one of the few times he’s on the Furnace master’s side.
Hearing this all made Jing Yuan feel like a child, a weak and pathetic child who has no agency, because frankly, he doesn’t want a therapist, he doesn’t want to go to a mental hospital and he doesn’t care about getting better.
He walked back to his room and sat on the soft mattress, the bandages around his right arm felt tight and shameful, like a reminder that no matter his title or his physical strength, he is still weak.
Nothing he does matters, because he doesn’t matter either. Why exist at all if all he can be is a burden?
Wrapped up in all of his thoughts, the feeling of a hand on his shoulder took him by surprise, Jingliu’s hand, cold yet firm.
“Jing Yuan, I need to talk to you”
Those words could’ve easily sent him into another spiral, but he sucked it up and nodded.
“We all want what’s best for you, but to do that we need your input, so, what do you want to do?”
It’s a weird thing he’s feeling right now, because for so long he’s craved for someone to help and now he has a hand— multiple hands— to help him and he can’t even bring himself to grab one of them.
“I…I need time to think, please Shifu”
Jingliu simply nodded and took it as her sign to leave for now.
He held his legs close to his chest and rested his head on his knees, and thought.
What does he want? Getting help would be good but what if he never gets better? What if he’s just another burden to others?
Once again he’s snapped out of his thoughts before they can spiral, this time by Yingxing and Baiheng.
“A-Yuan, are you feeling better?”
Baiheng asked gently, trying (and failing) to subtly wipe away the remaining tears
“…yeah, i am.”
“Are you sure?”
Yingxing said it in a way that made Jing Yuan question if he actually was okay.
“…Think so” Jing Yuan muttered.
A small silence passed, not exactly awkward but not exactly comfortable, until Baiheng spoke up.
“Yuan Yuan, we want you to know that we are always here for you, no matter what, we’ll always be your friends”
It’s strange hearing such caring words.
“Mhm…about what i want to do…I…” He paused, a moment to recollect his thoughts meant a lot to him.
“…Alright, what do you want to do?” Yingxing said so softly, it’s foreign but not unwelcome.
“I’d like to get help, going to a therapist doesn’t sound too bad” He finally got the words out.
“Alright, A-Yuan, we’ll see what we can do, but we all promise to be there for you” Yingxing said.
And the weight of his pain lessened, his burden felt lighter.
And he knows why, he isn’t alone, he has his friends, and he wouldn’t trade them for the world.