Work Text:
A’Yuan is scared.
He stands frozen, blinking, his hands twisting in the fabric of his sleeves.
There’s a man standing in the corner of the room, a man who looks nothing like the people A’Yuan knows. A’Yuan’s people wear white and blue, with ribbons around their foreheads, and are always clean. Zhan-gege says that bathing is important and that’s why A’Yuan has to do it so often. Zhan-gege says it’s a rule.
But this man is not clean—he’s covered in dirt and ash, his robes black and ripped in places. His skin is so white it’s almost translucent. There’s a shadow over his face that keeps most of it dark, pitch black dark, but A’Yuan can see his eyes. They’re pale like his skin, staring right at A’Yuan without any kind of recognition in them.
A’Yuan frightfully takes a step back, away from the man. Those eyes follow him, shifting at once to stay trained on him.
Hot tears fall down his cheeks without him realizing. What is going on? This is the Jingshi—Zhan-gege said that no one would ever hurt him, especially not if he was in the Jingshi. But this man is so scary, A’Yuan’s body locks up as shivers go down his spine. This man wants to hurt him, he thinks. Nothing else makes sense.
“Zhan-gege,” he whispers, hiccuping out a sob that feels very loud. The man reacts to the noise, twisting his head unnaturally to the side, like a bird’s.
“ZHAN-GEGE,” A’Yuan screams, turning and bolting back the way he’d come.
Zhan-gege is visiting with his brother, and A’Yuan is not supposed to be in the room with them while they talk. Adult things, Lan-gege had said. Not meant for little ears.
But Zhan-gege told him if he was scared—if anyone tried to hurt him—to immediately find him.
Behind him, he hears bare feet slap against wood, air displacing around him as the man gets very very close, and he can hear panting breath, and everything smells like—
A’Yuan doesn’t know but it’s so bad, so bad it makes him gag, and the man is right there and—
“A’Yuan!” Zhan-gege picks him up, the paper doors pushed wide open and nearly ripped in his haste.
A’Yuan is so relieved to see him that he bursts into loud, terrified wails, pushing his face hard into Zhan-gege’s neck. “Help me, Zhan-gege, help! Please help me! There’s—the man—he’s scary, Zhan-gege, please,” he cries, digging his little fingers into Zhan-gege’s thin robe.
Zhan-gege holds him close, rubbing his back up and down with his large hand. “I’m here. I am here, shhh, shhh….” He takes him to the table, sitting down across from Lan-gege, and adjusts A’Yuan in his lap. A’Yuan can’t bear to let go for even a second, so he doesn’t, clinging to him as closely as he can.
They sit like that for several minutes, the adults’ low voices speaking urgently above his head. A’Yuan cries until his chest is heaving, babbling about getting the scary man to go away.
“A’Yuan, what man? Please baobei, what man?”
Lan-gege sounds very sad when he asks, “Do you mean me?”
“No, xiongzhang, he knows you, why would he be frightened of you?”
They speak again, A’Yuan barely paying attention, his eyes squeezed shut. The scent of Zhan-gege’s neck, the comforting sandalwood and medicinal herbs mix, helps stave off the bad bad smell. But he still feels eyes on him, his hair standing on end.
“A’Yuan,” Zhan-gege comforts, “there is no man. There is only my xiongzhang and myself here with you. Do you remember Lan-gege?”
A’Yuan trusts Zhan-gege more than anyone. Zhan-gege said he would protect A’Yuan no matter what.
Slowly, he turns his head away from Zhan-gege’s neck, gasping in fresh air. With his cheek pillowed on a strong shoulder, he opens his eyes—only to find the man very, very close to his face.
He stiffens, scrabbling at Zhan-gege.
“A’Yuan,” the man croons, his voice so much louder in A’Yuan’s ears than Zhan-gege’s. “You’re dead. Aren’t you? Remember?”
That’s when A’Yuan begins screaming.
“NO, NO, NO! ‘M not dead! You’re wrong!” He sobs. “Zhan-gege, make him go away, please! Please!!”
Zhan-gege’s breathing is ragged when he says, “Xiongzhang. Inquiry. Now.”
Lan-gege very quickly begins to play music, a song A’Yuan has heard before. Lan-gege plays and pauses, plays and pauses.
“There is nothing here?”
“There must be, he’s terrified.”
Lan-gege tries again, but nothing responds.
Eventually, they coax him to open his eyes again. Zhan-gege promises he will protect A’Yuan from the scary man, and Lan-gege says he will too, but they cannot see this scary man, so he has to open his eyes and help them find him, can he do that? For them?
A’Yuan trembles as he peeks, and they don’t subside even when he looks around the Jingshi and sees nothing unusual. There is no man. The sensation of being watched slowly eases until it’s gone entirely.
Lower lip wobbling, he checks again and again from the safe place in Zhan-gege’s arms.
“A’Yuan?”
“I don’t see him,” he mumbles, “I think he left.”
He hopes so. He doesn’t like that man, he doesn’t want to see him again. But he came so suddenly and left so quickly too, what if he comes back?
Zhan-gege sighs and kisses his head, rubbing his back again. “I’m here,” he whispers again, and A’Yuan can feel nothing but thankful for it.