Time Traveler’s Lament

by Lunar_Spice

Summary:

Lu Guang always thought Cheng Xiaoshi looked like an angel.

He just wasn’t expecting him to become one so soon.

Notes:

I might change the summary later; It’s almost 4am and I have the flu

Well, this is unexpected. I honestly hadn’t planned on posting this first chapter this soon, but I was so high off of watching the end of the Bridon Arc that I just decided to go for it. This is a story I am actively working on in tandem with my current series, so updates may not be posted as timely as I would like. Once I reach a pausing point in my current series, I will have more opportunities to update this story.

Important note! This story is fully intended to be enjoyed as an accompaniment to music, specifically the songs (and versions) linked. While it is possible to read the story as-is, I tried to incorporate the music as much as I could.

Chapter 1: Photograph

Notes:

I would like to incorporate art that I took inspiration from as well for each chapter, however there have a few pictures that I've been unable to track down the artists for. So, here is a disclaimer: I have not created nor do I own any of the pictures in this story. I am hopeful that I am able to locate the artists for pictures in future chapters. If the verified artist for any picture contacts me and demands their artwork be taken down, I will be more than willing to oblige.

(I'm fairly certain that this art comes from @y_inzi on Twitter/X. I don't have a Twitter/X to verify, but one of the other artists says that they think this is the right artist)

Photograph

 

The sun bore down on Lu Guang as he jogged, making him gasp for air like a beached whale. He huffed as he slowed down, resting his hands against his knees to catch his breath. Sweat dripped off of his face and painted the sidewalk beneath him. His bangs were plastered to his forehead, black hair limp as if it was trying to match his exhaustion.

Standing up straight and wiping the sweat from his brow, he realized that he’d stopped next to a basketball court. There were some people in it playing ball already, and Lu Guang tried not to be disappointed.

If it’d been empty, he would have tried to shoot a few hoops, just to keep his practice up.

Taking a swig from his water bottle, he groaned and resumed his pace, trying to focus on the music in his ears instead of the burning in his legs.

Lu Guang got back to his small apartment before too long, nearly falling over his own feet as he stumbled towards the shower.

The cool water was the perfect way to refresh after a workout, and Lu Guang found himself still full of energy when he exited. With a quick glance at the clock, he realized he’d need that energy; his next class was about to start.

Cursing under his breath, Lu Guang ran back out the door.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He’d forgotten his damn laptop.

Lu Guang nearly smacked himself. How could he have been so thoughtless to have forgotten his laptop? Fortunately, he was able to take pictures of the professor’s slideshow with his phone. He’d just have to remember to convert them to written notes later.

He sighed as he returned to his apartment, wishing that he could have stayed at his old school.

He’d transferred in the middle of the year, when friend groups had already solidified, leaving him on the outskirts, alone.

Which was fine. He hadn’t had many friends at his previous school anyway.

But it was lonely. Especially when he returned to an empty apartment, ceiling too tall and walls too wide for just him.

His phone chimed, not with a text (never with a text; Lu Guang hardly knew anybody), but with a reminder to finish and submit the day’s homework. Lu Guang grimaced, but he dutifully sat down at his desk and got to work.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The following day was a Sunday, so Lu Guang spent as much time sleeping in as he could.

When he finally dragged himself out of bed, his stiff muscles nearly immediately called for a workout, so Lu Guang got dressed and made his way down the street.

If the basketball court’s free, I’ll stop by, he thought as he made his way down the street.

The closer he got, the more he looked forward to it until the court came into view.

It was occupied, technically. A lone figure stood within it, not moving. Lu Guang slowed, wondering what they were doing.

As he approached, the figure shifted slightly before jumping into the air. Lu Guang gaped at the sudden height. In one, fluid movement, they threw the ball towards the hoop.

It barely made a sound as it fell through, not even hitting the metal rim.

The boy - now that Lu Guang was closer, he could tell it was a boy - laughed triumphantly as he broke into a light jog to retrieve the ball. When he turned back, he finally saw Lu Guang standing in the court. “Hey.”

”Hey, man. Sorry for interrupting you,” Lu Guang said before breaking out into a huge smile. “That jump was incredible!”

The boy looked stunned for a moment before flashing a smile of his own. “Thanks! Do you wanna play for a bit?”

The thought was tempting, but… “I don’t wanna get in your way of practicing.”

He only got a light laugh in response. The boy threw the ball into Lu Guang’s hands. “You’d be helping me! I haven’t had a good one-on-one game in a while. Pass it back! Let’s go.”

Lu Guang didn’t need any more encouragement.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The sun was setting by the time the two of them were done, both panting and dripping sweat. Even so, despite his obvious exhaustion, the boy swung an arm around Lu Guang’s shoulders. “That was a great game!”

Lu Guang felt like his muscles had turned to sand and his limbs to stone, but there was a lightness in his chest that had never been there before. He gave the boy an answering grin. “Yeah. Let’s do it again sometime!”

”Oh! Let me get your phone number so we can get together for another round. I swear I’ll win next time!”

He shoved him playfully. “As if!”

The pair laughed as they exchanged phone numbers and bid each other goodbye. The lightness in Lu Guang’s chest made him smile even after he returned to his apartment.

His phone chimed. For a second, Lu Guang felt confused. He didn’t have any assignments due today.

Looking at his phone, he realized that the notification hadn’t been from a reminder, but from a text.

It had a name attached to it that Lu Guang didn’t recognize, and only then did he realize that he never asked for the boy’s name. He must have attached it to his phone number when they exchanged their information.

Cheng Xiaoshi

Thanks for the game today!

Are you free to play again tomorrow?

“Cheng Xiaoshi,” Lu Guang said aloud, testing the name out as he typed out a reply. He couldn’t stop a smile from crossing his face.

Lu Guang

You bet!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang became fast friends. It amazed Lu Guang, since he’d originally thought he’d be unable to make new friends after transferring.

But now, the two of them were meeting together nearly every day to play basketball and get to know each other.

”Y’know, I work close by to here,” Cheng Xiaoshi said once as they were recuperating after a particularly strenuous game.

”You have a job?”

He shoved Lu Guang playfully. “What, is that so hard to believe?” The two shared a laugh before he continued, “Yeah, it’s the Hero Photo Studio nearby.” He gave a lopsided grin and a wink. “If your camera ever has issues, you can count on me! I’ll fix it for you.”

And that’s how Lu Guang came to be standing on the doorstep of the unassuming shopfront holding a camera.

He didn’t own one, but he didn’t want to show up without a reason - because ‘I wanted to see more of you’ felt foreign on his tongue - so he’d bought it earlier that day.

He couldn’t explain the strange tug he always felt nowadays, prompting him to spend more and more time with Cheng Xiaoshi, but it wasn’t an unwelcome feeling.

Inhaling deeply, Lu Guang stepped forward and opened the door.

It was unlike any shop he’d ever seen before. He stepped into a small foyer area that consisted of a counter and a closed door behind it. Framed photographs lined the walls with no rhyme or reason. Further in, Lu Guang caught a glimpse of a brightly-lit lounge room and a comfortable-looking couch.

It felt… cozy.

Looking around, Lu Guang also realized that it was completely empty with no sign of Cheng Xiaoshi.

”Uh, hello?” he called out.

There was a shifting sound and Lu Guang barely had any time to wonder what it was before Cheng Xiaoshi was poking his head into view. “Oh! Lu Guang, you came!!”

Unsure of what to say next, Lu Guang awkwardly held out the camera in his hand. “My… it stopped working.”

He had made sure to pick out a slightly outdated model so that it didn’t look like he’d just bought it. Even so, Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes lit up when he saw it. “May I?” He asked, hesitating to reach out.

Lu Guang grinned and tossed the camera to Cheng Xiaoshi like it was a basketball, knowing that he’d catch it easily.

He did and began turning it over in his hands, laughing. “If you treat this camera like that all the time, it’s no wonder you need it fixed,” he teased.

”Nah, I usually dribble it a few times first,” Lu Guang shot back. He watched Cheng Xiaoshi hold the camera with a practiced hand, his love for the device obvious. “I didn’t think you were open. I didn’t see anyone when I came in.”

Cheng Xiaoshi cleared his throat, looking embarrassed. “Oh, well, about that,” he chuckled sheepishly. “The shop isn’t technically open.”

”Wait, what? Then why are you here?”

”Because I live here!” He answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

”You…” Lu Guang was having a hard time wrapping his brain around this new development. “…live here?”

Cheng Xiaoshi pointed out the steps that had escaped Lu Guang’s initial view of the shop. “There’s a small room upstairs that I live in and there’s a kitchen in the back. It’s got everything a guy could need!”

Lu Guang couldn’t help but admire Cheng Xiaoshi’s nearly-endless enthusiasm. He was about to say something when Cheng Xiaoshi looked up from the camera with a strange expression on his face, one that Lu Guang couldn’t quite identify.

”Lu Guang? I have a question about this camera.” He hesitated before asking, “When did you get it?”

”Uhh,” Lu Guang scratched the back of his neck as he searched for a reasonable, non-suspicious answer. “I’m not sure? I’ve had it for years.”

”Years?”

”That’s right.”

The strange expression on his face deepened into something altogether strange to Lu Guang. He was about to ask when Cheng Xiaoshi seemingly reached into the camera and pulled out a piece of paper. He held it out to Lu Guang, the beginnings of a smirk playing across his features. “This is today’s date.”

Lu Guang felt his face flush as he stared at the receipt he’d received just hours earlier for that very same camera.

”It was caught under the flash hood,” Cheng Xiaoshi said, barely able to get the words out past all his chuckling.

And Lu Guang finally understood the strange expression on Cheng Xiaoshi’s face. He was simply trying to not laugh as he caught Lu Guang in his lie.

The boy in question shuffled on his feet, unsure of what to say. “I…” he began, the truth forcing its way out, “I wanted to see you again.”

”You. Want to spend time. With me?” Cheng Xiaoshi looked shocked, and it broke Lu Guang’s heart at how utterly dumbfounded he appeared to be upon the knowledge that someone wanted to spend time with him. He nodded, unsure of what reaction he was going to get and stepped back when Cheng Xiaoshi exploded.

Amongst his enthusiastic rambling, Lu Guang found himself ushered further into the studio until he was sitting on the comfortable-looking couch in the middle of the sunroom.

He immediately felt his body relaxing, the final warm rays of the sun shining through the windows and easing his worries.

All at once, the rambling stopped.

Lu Guang started to get up, to ask Cheng Xiaoshi if he was okay, but his unusually-tense voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

”Don’t… move…”

Briefly, Lu Guang considered that Cheng Xiaoshi had found an enormous insect on him, but the click of a camera shutter replaced his theory with a more-accurate one. “Why are you photographing me?”

Cheng Xiaoshi chuckled, but this sounded different from his carefree laughs from earlier. “Because it’s the golden hour. A photographer’s favorite time of day. It’s the time when the evening light shines through the window, making everything appear soft and warm.” His expression was tender as he regarded Lu Guang, the light from the setting sun making his eyes appear to be the color of honey. “The light is perfect now and…” he hesitated, but raised the camera up to his eyes again. “…and your skin is like a painting.”

That struck Lu Guang speechless. He’d come to know Cheng Xiaoshi throughout the games they’d played on the court, but he’d never heard Cheng Xiaoshi wax poetic like this before. He truly is a photographer at heart, Lu Guang thought.

The energy and excitement that came from him whenever they played basketball was nothing compared to the passion his words conveyed now.

He froze, staying still and only moving where and when Cheng Xiaoshi directed him. Finally, when the sun had completely set, Cheng Xiaoshi set the camera down. He shuffled his feet and his eyes darted everywhere but at Lu Guang. “I’m sorry. I can just get ahead of myself.” He pressed his hands together, face scrunched up in apology.

Lu Guang shook his head as he stood up and popped his back. “Nah. I’m glad I got to see you in your element.” He began heading towards the door, not wanting to take up more of Cheng Xiaoshi’s time than he already had, but a hand on his wrist stopped him.

”Do you… wanna stay for dinner?”

Lu Guang felt a wide smile bloom across his face. “Definitely!”

So Lu Guang stayed.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Do you believe that there are superpowers in this world?

Lu Guang had never put much thought into it. He had daydreamed about having a superpower before, but the idea never had much substance.

Until he met Cheng Xiaoshi and got to know him.

That day that he visited Cheng Xiaoshi for the first time, Lu Guang had one wish: that time would just stand still, so that his happiness would never end.

He’d never had friends growing up and his relationship with his parents was lackluster at best.

Cheng Xiaoshi was the first person that Lu Guang genuinely wanted to spend all his time with.

His excuse for arriving at the studio had been a sham, but the pull he felt towards this other boy was real. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt.

SImply spending time with each other felt so natural that neither batted an eye when it got too dark to head home, somehow instinctively knowing that Lu Guang would be fine to spend the night.

So he did. That night, he climbed into the top bunk and fell asleep listening to Cheng Xiaoshi’s gentle snores.

The next morning, Lu Guang awoke with the sunrise, feeling well-rested. After descending the ladder - and noticing that Cheng Xiaoshi must have already woken up and left - he peered around the bedroom.

It was small with only enough room for the bunkbed and a desk that spanned the length under the biggest window. The top of the desk was covered with textbooks and photographs, but one thing caught Lu Guang’s attention almost immediately.

It was his camera. Or, rather, it was the camera that he’d used as an excuse to visit the previous day.

Picking it up, Lu Guang tried copying how Cheng Xiaoshi had held it before and found that it rested comfortably in his hands. He raised it to his eye and peered through the viewfinder, snapping a few test pictures. Maybe he should ask Cheng Xiaoshi how to use it?

Camera still in hand, he opened the door and padded down the steps. His socked feet made almost no sound against the hard surface. Just as he was about to call Cheng Xiaoshi’s name, his sleep-blurred vision cleared, and he stopped in his tracks.

Cheng Xiaoshi sat on the couch in the sunroom on his phone. But what should be such a mundane scene was transformed into something breathtaking as sunlight drifted through the window, painting everything golden. It framed Cheng Xiaoshi’s form until he seemed to glow with a halo gifted to him from the heavens. Even the dust motes in the air were highlighted and only added to the ethereal feeling.

Time grew syrupy, sweet and thick as the moment stretched before Lu Guang’s eyes. He felt himself wish for it to last for hours.

Let me stay right here.

Almost unconsciously, he raised the camera to his eye and peered through the viewfinder.

Just a moment longer.

The shutter clicked and the scene was ingrained into film like magic.

Please let this last forever.

The scene before Lu Guang’s eyes shifted until it felt like he was looking through it. Time flashed before his eyes and Lu Guang could barely make sense of what he saw.

He saw himself, sitting on the couch while on his phone. Cheng Xiaoshi draped himself across the cushions until he was leaning against Lu Guang’s side. He was playing his game and got agitated when he lost. While he was still pouting, the door opened and a girl walked in. She and Cheng Xiaoshi seemed to know each other very well; she scolded him for being lazy.

Lu Guang fell back into his body, the scene before him unchanged. He glanced down at the camera he clutched in his trembling hands and wondered if he should mention what just happened to Cheng Xiaoshi.

”Oh hey. You’re up! How do you feel about breakfast?”

Smiling back, Lu Guang pushed his worry down and followed Cheng Xiaoshi into the kitchen.

It wasn’t until later that Lu Guang realized that something incredible had just awoken in him.

Notes:

I know that I wrote Lu Guang a little out of character (and a little out of design; it's weird visualizing him with black hair), but believe me, it works with the story (and shall be remedied soon). Fun fact! I had such a mental block writing Lu Guang with this upbeat, cheerful personality that I had to initially write in a character from a completely different show just to get the right personality I wanted and then change the name back when I finished.

Chapter 2: Soft Spot

Notes:

Huge thank you to Jay for allowing me to put their art in this chapter! You can find them on Tumblr and Twitter/X. Thanks for making such great art!

Soft Spot

 

Content Warnings (Spoiler)

~Implied nudity and a few implied/nonspecific mentions of sex and loss of virginity
~Creepy/Graphic nightmare sequence (including a too-wide smile, sharp teeth, and slight gore)
~Confusion/altered state of mind, leading to dissociative episodes, and threatening/aggressive behavior
~Allusion to abusive relationship (past)
~Mention of abandonment (Cheng Xiaoshi's parents; Lu Guang, briefly)

Lu Guang smiled happily as he raised his glass, the liquid inside catching the light as he extended it. “To us,” he murmured. “My life has been incredible ever since I met you. You’re the best partner I could ever ask for.”

His partner raised a similar glass, clinking it against Lu Guang’s. “You always know the right thing to say,” he answered with a smile of his own. “Happy birthday.”

Time seemed to melt, the scenery of the restaurant shifting to the two walking back home. They were talking about something or other, but stopped once they reached the doorstep.

“Come inside,” Lu Guang opened the door with a welcome grin. His partner made no objections, stepping through the doorway.

There was a jumble in the darkness, and Lu Guang could feel himself getting excited. This was the first time he’d invited him back to his place, even though they’d known each other for ages.

Hands ran over each other, and Lu Guang felt a giddy laugh bubbling up from his chest as their bodies were pressed together. “Are you sure?” His partner breathed, forehead against forehead. “I’m not very good.”

Instead of answering with his words, Lu Guang surged forward, his fingers running through wiry black hair.

Somehow, they found their way to his bed, clothes discarded every step along the way until there was nothing left.

Lu Guang pulled him closer, sandwiched between him and the mattress. It felt like he couldn’t breathe, but he didn’t care.

A hand pressed against his chest, and he looked up into the now-blank face of the man he’d come to love. He tried to buck out from under his hand, tried to get him to keep moving, but he continued to placidly sit on his abdomen, doing nothing but pushing down on his sternum. “Wh- wha-?”

“Shh,” he shushed him, and the weight on Lu Guang’s chest only seemed to get heavier. “Don’t fight it.”

Lu Guang’s eyes flew wide open at those words. He tried to thrash, his feet scrabbling against the mattress. His lips began to curl up into the smile that Lu Guang used to love, but now all he could feel was fear. The corners of his mouth should have stopped a long time ago, but they kept rising higher and higher. His teeth elongated and sharpened, growing bigger and bigger until he couldn’t even call it a face anymore.

He tried to open his mouth, tried to scream, but he felt frozen to the mattress, terror holding him in place with a vice grip.

The monstrous mouth above him opened, moonlight shining in the room at the same instant to highlight the endless rows of wicked-looking fangs.

Lu Guang found his voice, but he had barely made a sound when the mouth dove down, cutting through flesh, muscle, and bone with ease as it sliced through the chest. Dark blood gushed out, covering them both in warm, sticky liquid as he continued to dig down into Lu Guang.

Finally, with a triumphant grin, the thing above him clenched his hand and tore his heart straight out from his body. Threads and sinew pulled apart like weakened strings on a violin bow. Lu Guang could only stare, unable to even breathe.

It was bright red in the thing’s pale, ghost-like hand, still beating futilely.

The world blurred as pain wracked Lu Guang’s body, followed by all-encompassing numbness. He could only watch as the monster who had once been his lover tore his heart to shreds, savoring every bite.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Lu Guang awoke with a gasp, jackknifing into a sitting position, a cold sweat coating his body. His hands shot to his own chest, feeling unmarred skin and a frantically-beating heart, still inside his own chest.

Finally catching his breath, Lu Guang flopped back down onto his bed and covered his eyes with his arm, hoping to block out the world for a little bit longer.

Liu Xiao.

Lu Guang’s hand clenched into a fist.

He hadn’t had a nightmare like that in a long time. Or, perhaps, the memory was still fresh, too fresh in his mind, even though it felt like it’d happened a long time ago.

He felt something prodding into his mattress, but he couldn’t be bothered to acknowledge it, too caught up in the past.

Liu Xiao’s eyes still bored holes into him, haunting him from his own dream. He could still remember that night, the night that everything crashed down around him as Liu Xiao threw him aside like rotten food, even after…

“-ng? Lu Guang?”

Cheng Xiaoshi’s concerned voice broke through his thoughts, and Lu Guang looked up. He unclenched his jaw and then his fists. Inhaling deeply, he sat back up, letting his arm fall back down to his side as he finally turned to look at Cheng Xiaoshi. “What are you doing up so early?” He asked, stretching. “The sun hasn’t even risen yet.”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Cheng Xiaoshi countered. Then, in a much more delicate tone, “Did you have a nightmare?”

Lu Guang froze for a second, face uncontrollably blank before he forced it into a wide grin. “Maybe? I might’ve had a dream, but I never remember them!”

‘Liar,’ a voice within Lu Guang sang. ‘You remember every horrible detail, but you’re not strong enough to admit it. You can’t even face what he did to you.’

“Lu Guang?”

He forced his grin to stay where it was, defying the terrible pull of gravity and his own thoughts. He waved Cheng Xiaoshi’s questions off, clambering down the ladder and locking himself in the bathroom to try to pull together his composure.

He turned the shower on, but remained standing at the bathroom counter, staring at his reflection, arms braced against both sides of the sink.

Almost unconsciously, his eyes were drawn to it: the small scar on his temple. No matter how much he grew out his hair, he could still see it, buried amongst the depths of black strands.

It’s such a small thing, Lu Guang considered, despite representing such a major event in his past.

Shaking his head, Lu Guang stepped into the shower, not even bothering to remove his clothes.

He stole another glance at himself in the mirror before averting his gaze. He didn’t trust himself to remove his clothes.

The fabric hung heavily on his frame, weighed down by the copious amounts of water it absorbed over the course of the shower, but Lu Guang could not care less.

As soon as he opened the bathroom door, Cheng Xiaoshi was there, worriedly gripping him by the shoulders. “Lu Guang?! What happened to you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you look like you’ve been caught in a hurricane!” He clasped Lu Guang’s wet hand and began pulling him towards the bedroom. “You need to get into dry clothes as soon as possible!”

Lu Guang acted before he realized what he was doing. He yanked his hand back, vision starting to blur as he pressed it against his temple.

“Lu Guang.”

It was Liu Xiao’s voice, but it was so real. Even though he shouldn’t… he couldn’t be here.

He was staring straight at Liu Xiao, unable to look away. When did he get here? But, Lu Guang knew better than to question Liu Xiao, so he kept his mouth closed.

“L-Lu Guang?”

This was wrong… Liu Xiao would never say his name like that, caring and full of worry.

He opened his mouth… but that was wrong too.

He shouldn’t talk back, shouldn’t question.

A light slap against his cheek brought Lu Guang to his senses.

He finally recognized the dark hair for the fluffy softness that it was, not the wiry hair of his imagination. The eyes that were watching him weren’t judging or scheming; they were full of care and worry. Lu Guang let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding in, stepping forward and all-but falling into Cheng Xiaoshi’s outstretched arms.

To his surprise, Cheng Xiaoshi didn’t question, didn’t poke and prod Lu Guang for answers. Instead, he simply held him, his soft, gentle voice murmuring sweet nothings into his hair.

Lu Guang finally let go of all the tension that had been building in his body since he awoke.

He’s not here.

You’re not there.

You’re with Cheng Xiaoshi.

You’ve been living here for a year.

You’re safe here with Cheng Xiaoshi.

Together, they made their way downstairs, and Cheng Xiaoshi busied himself with making them both a drink while Lu Guang sat on the couch, trying to piece together the remaining bits of his composure.

Before he knew it, though, a steaming mug of tea was set in front of him. Cheng Xiaoshi settled down on the opposite side of the couch, an identical mug held in his hand as he scrolled on his phone.

Lu Guang picked his tea up, felt the comforting warmth of the steam brush his face, but he couldn’t bring himself to take a sip. He watched his reflection and how it wavered in the rippling liquid. “I suppose I owe you an explanation,” he began.

He’d been wracking his brain all morning, trying to find the right words to fully explain the situation. Even now, he wasn’t entirely sure what to say, but he knew that he couldn’t avoid talking about the issue for any longer. He could only hope Cheng Xiaoshi understood.

“Nope.”

Lu Guang furrowed his brow, briefly wondering if he’d heard wrong, but when he looked up, Cheng Xiaoshi hadn’t even glanced in his direction. “I… uh… what?”

“You don’t owe me an explanation,” Cheng Xiaoshi turned his phone screen off and set it aside, giving Lu Guang his full attention. “Everyone comes with baggage, and it’d be hypocritical of me to demand to know yours when I still haven’t come clean about mine.”

“Yours?”

Cheng Xiaoshi stayed silent, his eyes growing distant and sliding somewhere off to the side, and Lu Guang nodded, understanding his meaning.

“I thought you’d press me for the truth,” Lu Guang nearly chuckled in relief, still reeling from everything that had happened today.

He only received a trusting smile in return. “When you’re ready to tell me, I’ll find out, won’t I?”

So they spent the rest of the morning in silence. It wasn’t an oppressive silence that only seemed to weigh heavier and heavier the longer it lasted, but a companionable silence, one that comforted both of them.

As the sun drifted through the windows, Lu Guang felt himself tilt closer and closer to sleep, his body rocking sideways until he impacted with something soft. He hummed contentedly, truly feeling at peace for the first time since he awoke.

No, the voice in his head echoed, coming to a conclusion. He is not like Liu Xiao. He is nothing like him.

Lu Guang knew deep down that it was true. That Cheng Xiaoshi wasn’t going to throw him aside when he was done using him.

The wounds from Liu Xiao still felt fresh and tender, even after all this time, but, Lu Guang realized, all he really needed was someone like Cheng Xiaoshi to help his heart begin to heal.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

That night, Lu Guang stayed awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. Cheng Xiaoshi had fallen asleep a while ago, his light snores filling the silence.

Even though he wasn’t conscious, hearing his presence comforted Lu Guang.

Now that he was thinking clearly, the differences between Cheng Xiaoshi and Liu Xiao were staggering.

Where one was intense, the other was easy-going.

Where one was controlling, the other was trusting.

Where one had…

Lu Guang’s fingers brushed against his temple.

Silently climbing down, Lu Guang glanced back at Cheng Xiaoshi’s slumbering form before he descended to the first floor. He moved slowly, finding it hard to navigate the shop by only the dim light of the moon.

After making himself a cup of tea, Lu Guang sat on the couch, feeling his nerves start to settle. He focused on the scenery around him, bathed silver in the moonlight.

He let the taste of the tea - citrus and honey - ground him in the present, finally feeling at peace, both in body and mind.

He must have dozed off, for the very next thing Lu Guang registered was a thundering noise and a vice grip on his shoulders. He screamed, blindly trying to move back to escape, but he found himself pinned to the couch. He looked up into dark eyes, shrouded in shadow.

“X-X-Xiao…” he could barely get the name out.

This is it, Lu Guang dimly felt himself thinking, Liu Xiao is back to finish the job. And then, in an instant, that thought was overwhelmed by the echoing thought, I DON’T WANT TO DIE!

He stood up and pushed back against Liu Xiao for the first time, feeling like he was moving in slow motion even as his hands closed around his throat.

Just before he squeezed, he blinked, mind clearing.

There was no tattoo.

Liu Xiao always treasured that tattoo, even though he never gave Lu Guang a straight answer for its meaning. All of his clothes seemed to be tailored specially to show it off, framed within his low neckline.

So, if this wasn’t Liu Xiao…

“Ch-” he stopped, swallowing past the knot in his throat. “Cheng Xiaoshi?”

The face of his best friend came into view, eyes wide and wet, twin trails of tears shiny against his cheeks. “I…” he sniffled and offered Lu Guang a watery smile. “I thought you’d left.”

Lu Guang yanked his hands away from Cheng Xiaoshi’s throat as if he’d been burned. His mouth gaped as he struggled for words, but, finding none, he slumped back down onto the couch. His fingers trembled as he pressed his hands together, trying to tamp down on the emotions that kept bubbling to the surface.

This could not happen again.

He almost hurt Cheng Xiaoshi!

The man in question sat on the other side of the couch, eyes fixed downwards.

It was some time before either of them dared to speak. Even then, Lu Guang’s voice was a whisper, and he briefly wondered if Cheng Xiaoshi had heard him.

“Why did you think I’d left?”

There was more silence, punctuated by Cheng Xiaoshi’s deep inhale. “I… woke up and you were gone. At first I thought you were just in the bathroom, but you weren’t coming back.” He paused, sniffling once more before he continued, “And then I remembered how your eyes looked yesterday.”

“My eyes?”

Finally, Cheng Xiaoshi looked up, and Lu Guang was shocked to see fresh tears falling, despite his thin smile. “I used to know two people… and your eyes reminded me a lot of theirs.”

“‘Used to know’?”

“Ah,” Cheng Xiaoshi’s gaze diverted. He scratched the back of his neck. “They disappeared.” He cleared his throat, forcing a slightly more upbeat tone, “That’s why sometimes I worry about you, too. What if you just vanish one day? I’m not good with being lonely!”

The words were said in jest, but Lu Guang could hear the truth resonating within them.

I thought you’d abandoned me.

Deep down, Lu Guang knew that those two people must have been Cheng Xiaoshi’s parents. How cruel they must have been to just leave their child alone, without a clue as to when they’d be back?

Or, rather, if they’d be back.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

The forced grin slid off of Cheng Xiaoshi’s expression as he stared at Lu Guang. It broke his heart, seeing the blatant surprise on Cheng Xiaoshi’s face, as if he was expecting him to leave one day as well.

Swallowing thickly, Lu Guang averted his gaze. He leaned forward, elbows braced against his knees as his hands clasped together. “I don’t want to go anywhere else,” he amended his statement. “I’ve been left behind before, too.”

Even though he didn’t say anything, Lu Guang could still feel the question radiating from Cheng Xiaoshi: Do you want to talk about it?

He knew that there would be no hard feelings if he didn’t explain.

He knew that Cheng Xiaoshi wouldn’t press the issue.

But he also knew that he wanted to be more open with Cheng Xiaoshi.

“I once knew someone,” he began, resting his chin upon his intertwined fingers, “who I thought I loved. We’d been together for a long time. He seemed…” he trailed off, searching for the right word. “…good,” he finally settled on.

“…What happened?”

Lu Guang laughed bitterly. “We’d gone out to eat. I don’t even remember why; it was either my birthday or our anniversary. I brought him back to my apartment. It was the first time I’d invited him in. The first time we’d…” he cleared his throat. “Anyway, later that night, I woke to find him rifling through my stuff. As soon as he noticed I was awake, he pulled a knife out and pressed it against my head.” He tapped his temple, right where the tip of the knife had dug in, blood welling up in response.

He could feel Cheng Xiaoshi all-but on the edge of his seat, could feel the strange mixture of horror and morbid curiosity emanating from him.

“He told me that if I ever looked for him that he wouldn’t hesitate to kill me.” He paused, closing his eyes as memories flashed in his mind. “Then he took the bag full of my valuables and just… left.”

The words hung in the air, crystallized in the moonlight.

“You loved him?”

“I don’t believe in love,” Lu Guang spat, harsher than he meant to. He winced as he heard his own tone, but it was too late to amend it.

Cheng Xiaoshi barked out a single laugh. “Yeah, I don’t blame you.”

They sat together in silence once more, but this time, Lu Guang felt much more at ease than he did before. Before too long, yawns split their mouths wide, and they both silently agreed that it was time to return to bed.

They split at the top of the steps, with Cheng Xiaoshi heading straight into the bedroom and Lu Guang taking a detour to the bathroom first. When he finally reached the bedroom as well, deep, slow breathing filled the air as if Cheng Xiaoshi’s sleep had never been interrupted.

Lu Guang wondered what must have woken him up. His expression sobered as he realized that it must have been a nightmare involving his parents and Lu Guang himself, likely brought on because of how his eyes had looked.

That’s why he was so frantic to find me when he woke up, he thought.

Feeling guilty, Lu Guang pulled his pillow off of the top bunk and placed it next to Cheng Xiaoshi’s. Sliding into the lower bed, he found himself face-to-face with Cheng Xiaoshi. There were still tears sluggishly dripping from his eyes, despite being asleep, and Lu Guang dared to wonder if he was having another nightmare.

Without even thinking much about it, he reached over, cupping Cheng Xiaoshi’s cheek and wiping away his tears with a thumb.

“I don’t like anybody,” he whispered, barely audible. “And I don’t believe in love…” he studied Cheng Xiaoshi’s face, felt the innate trust he had in him, even while asleep. “So why is it so different with you? Why does no one make me feel like you do?”

What he thought he felt before for Liu Xiao paled in comparison to this. If he thought he was in love before, then what did that make his feelings for Cheng Xiaoshi?

It was a feeling of comfort, a feeling that he would do anything to protect him and keep him close.

A feeling unlike anything else.

“I love you,” he breathed, even quieter than before.

And even though it was impossible for him to hear his words, Lu Guang could swear he saw Cheng Xiaoshi’s lips twitch upwards into a small smile before devolving back into quiet snores.

Notes:

Liu Xiao: I'm not very good.
Lu Guang, thinking he means sex: That's fine.
Me, knowing he meant morally: 😈

Please let me know if any of the links/pictures aren’t working right. I’m paranoid about stuff like that. Also, let me know if you think the rating should be going up; I’m not a good judge of that.

Chapter 3: Please Don't Go

Notes:

Huge thank you to Lucrecia for allowing me to put her art in this chapter! You can find her on her official Tumblr and her art Tumblr. Thanks for making such great art!

Please Don't Go

 

While the song itself is not mine, I personally (slightly) edited it to better go with this chapter.

My Dear Readers who have read one of my other Link Click stories will feel slightly sick to the stomach if I say the words ‘Lu Guang making dinner’, but not to worry, the same ‘unprowess’ is not recreated in this story ^_^

Content Warnings (Spoiler)

~Joking about a client's taste (because of his clothes and his wife)
~Teasing
~Affectionate insults
~Interaction with an abusive ex
~Liu Xiao being sinister
~Guns
~Blood
~Canonical Character Death (we all knew it was coming)

Lu Guang hummed to himself as he slid the finished photographs into the envelope and sealed them inside. He set it on the counter and began tidying up as he waited for the client.

He didn’t have to wait for long. A young woman came in, the bell over the door heralding her arrival as she stepped inside the shop. “Miss Shao?” he asked, despite already knowing the answer. “Your photographs are in here.”

“Thank you very much,” she smiled warmly at him as she took the envelope. Her smile faded slightly as she peered around the shop. “Although… do you know where the other man went? The one who was working here before? I wanted to,” she paused to clear her throat and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, “thank him as well.”

Lu Guang clasped his hands and smiled. “I know he’d really appreciate that! But he’s working on another client’s request at the moment,” he said, pointing to the closed darkroom door. “He really shouldn’t be disturbed. I’ll let him know, though!”

Looking almost defeated, the young woman nodded and left, the bell over the door ringing merrily in her wake.

The pair had fallen into a system that worked well. After all, they’d been working together for over two years and living together for even longer. Lu Guang had failed in the darkroom time after time before Cheng Xiaoshi stepped in and announced that developing photos would be his domain.

Lu Guang didn’t mind dealing with their clients while Cheng Xiaoshi was busy, especially since most of his job was just busywork. After all, he knew that his partner did most of the heavy lifting, especially for a client such as this one. An entirely different kind of client than usual.

As if on cue, a loud thump! sounded from the darkroom followed by muffled curses. Moments later, Cheng Xiaoshi opened the door, looking disheveled. “Always the exit,” he muttered as he stumbled out.

“Job done?” Lu Guang asked him expectantly.

Cheng Xiaoshi grabbed a scrap of paper and scrawled something on it. “Mission accomplished,” he said as he thrust the paper at Lu Guang with bravado. “Man, this guy’s wife was annoying.” He began snickering, face scrunching up. “And ugly.”

Lu Guang laughed. “You can’t really blame him. I mean, didn’t you see his suit? I don’t think he has any taste.”

Both still laughing, they began their nightly routine. Lu Guang cleaned up and flipped the sign in the window to ‘Closed’ while Cheng Xiaoshi lounged on the couch, reacclimating himself to reality.

It was a system both of them were familiar with. Once they’d learned about each other’s powers, they were eager to help out even more people. The clients that Qiao Ling sent their way usually only wanted odd jobs done - finding a lost item or remembering a misplaced note - but the pair still found it rewarding.

Sometimes, Lu Guang wished that he had a bigger hand in the process, but he couldn’t complain. He always looked through a photo before handing it to Cheng Xiaoshi, giving him a rundown of what he needed to do before he clapped himself into it. After that, it was just a waiting game for Cheng Xiaoshi to finish the mission and come back, regaling tales from times long past.

He never worried about changes to the past, never thought about the Butterfly Effect, because he trusted Cheng Xiaoshi. He had complete faith that his partner knew what he was doing.

Because, if there even were changes to history, they were small and imperceptible.

As long as nothing extreme happened, everything was fine.

Lu Guang slipped out of the studio and made the short trek down the street to a new milk tea shop. Thanks to all the clients that they helped, both with mundane photos and with dives, the two were well on their way to repaying their debt, and with a little extra spending cash to boot. He picked out a flavor that he knew Cheng Xiaoshi would love while getting something a little plainer (but just as sweet) for himself.

With his hands full, he couldn’t keep the bell silent on his way back in, so he just opened the door normally, grinning as a tired voice emanated from the sunroom: “We’re cloooosed.”

“I guess you don’t want this milk tea, then,” Lu Guang said pointedly as he set one down on the counter, leaning against it as he took a sip of his own. “More for me.”

Cheng Xiaoshi was on his feet and out of the sunroom like a shot, giving Lu Guang a glare that held no heat as he plunged his straw into the sweet drink. “Mine.” His glare dissolved as he took his first sip, eyes closing as he visibly savored it.

“No, I bought that for me,” Lu Guang teased. “My money, my drinks. All for me. If you want one, go get your own.”

Cheng Xiaoshi lightly punched Lu Guang’s shoulder. “Idiot,” he chuckled.

The affectionate insult warmed Lu Guang from the inside as he smiled at Cheng Xiaoshi, admiring him. “Come on, you should be relaxing. I’ll make dinner,” he led the way back to the sunroom.

From behind him, he heard Cheng Xiaoshi say in a mock mutter, “‘Should be relaxing’, my butt. You called me.” They both quickly devolved into laughter as one shoved the other, leading to play-wrestling on the couch.

He knew it was childish, but Lu Guang just enjoyed having fun with Cheng Xiaoshi. Before too long, however, his rumbling stomach made itself known, and he had to extricate himself from Cheng Xiaoshi’s grip, ignoring his whines.

It was worth it in the end, though. Before he knew it, the two of them were settling onto the couch next to each other, enjoying dinner while watching something on the television Cheng Xiaoshi had pulled out.

After they finished eating, Lu Guang leaned to the side, resting comfortably against Cheng Xiaoshi. The latter’s arm instinctively wrapped around him, holding him close, and Lu Guang sighed contentedly.

He loved small, intimate moments like this.

The arm holding him was strong, and as Lu Guang drifted off to sleep, he couldn’t help feeling like it was the arm of his guardian angel cradling him and protecting him.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The following day, a young woman brought her two small children into the studio to get their portraits done for school.

Lu Guang was working the counter at the time, so he smiled and nodded. “Of course. We can definitely help with that. There’s the loveseat right here,” he gestured to the small couch positioned in the entryway, “but there’s also a nice-looking wall in the back. Do you have a preference?”

The mother looked at the loveseat, weighing options in her head before turning back to Lu Guang. “I think I’d prefer the wall in the back.”

“Of course. Please, follow me.”

He wasn’t worried about leaving the counter unattended; Cheng Xiaoshi was working in the darkroom - on actual pictures, not a dive - so if the bell over the door rang, he’d be able to help the customer.

Lu Guang set aside the picture frames leaning against the plain wall of the sunroom, eying the size of the area and deeming it adequate.

Then he turned back to the trio. The children blinked up at Lu Guang, and he couldn’t help but offer them both an easygoing smile as he knelt down to their level. “Who would like to go first?”

The girl’s arm shot up, grinning.

After directing the mother and son to sit on the couch, Lu Guang peered through the viewfinder at the girl. His understanding of photography had come a long way since first meeting Cheng Xiaoshi, but he knew that his level of mastery would never reach that of his partner.

Nevertheless, he did his best, directing the girl onto a stool. Just before he snapped a picture, the bell jingled merrily throughout the shop. The sudden noise jolted him out of his concentration, and he frowned as he pulled the viewfinder away from his eye to make sure the settings were right.

Distantly, he heard the darkroom door slide open, heard Cheng Xiaoshi greet the customer.

It was only then that he realized that the little girl was clambering down off of her stool. “Daddy! It must be Daddy!” she giggled as she ran around the corner towards the front of the shop.

Lu Guang reached out for her, exasperated, but she slipped through his fingers. Sighing, he got to his feet and followed.

He turned the corner, and the world narrowed around him.

“Oh, hey!” Cheng Xiaoshi’s cheerful voice seemed to echo. “I’ve never met any of your old friends! Why haven’t you invited him over sooner?”

Lu Guang felt dizzy, but he dared not move. His heart thundered in his ears and his throat worked around the knot that suddenly felt lodged inside it.

He couldn’t look away from Liu Xiao.

Liu Xiao turned and offered him a smile that must seem pleasant to other people. To Lu Guang, however, it just looked sinister. He was still dressed in all black, with a loose coat that hung over his thin frame. His hat was wide, casting a shadow over his features, but nothing could obscure that conniving look in his eyes.

The little girl had stopped in her tracks, staring up at Liu Xiao. “You’re not Daddy,” she said, almost as if she was accusing him of pretending to be her father.

Liu Xiao chuckled, a sound that sent chills down Lu Guang’s spine. “Children are such… interesting creatures, aren’t they?” He stepped forward. “Now, don’t pretend you’re not pleased to see me. I’ve missed you.”

Every instinct in Lu Guang’s head screamed at him to run, to take Cheng Xiaoshi and just run, but his body stayed rooted in place, still too obedient to that voice, even after all these years. His body felt numb, only faintly aware of the young girl standing next to him, clutching at his pant leg.

He wondered if she could sense it from Liu Xiao as well. He could feel her trembling, and bent down to pick her up, holding her in his arms as he both tried to comfort her and sought comfort for himself.

Cheng Xiaoshi was glancing back and forth between them, as if he could feel something was off, but unable to pin down exactly what it was. “Xavier said he knew you back before you transferred schools?” he prompted.

Xavier. An English name. Had he left the country? Lu Guang dared not ask.

Instead, it was Liu Xiao who answered him, “That’s right. We knew each other very well back then. We were very close, you see,” he chuckled again, emphasizing the words.

“Then, why hasn’t he ever mentioned you, if you were so close?!” Cheng Xiaoshi exploded.

“Why hasn’t he, indeed,” Liu Xiao hummed. He paused, looking between Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang. “It couldn't be because you two are…?”

At that, Cheng Xiaoshi burst into a wide grin. “Oh, we are! We’re very close!”

No, no, no! Cheng Xiaoshi, you idiot! The words rang in Lu Guang’s head, unable to find their way to his mouth. He didn’t mean ‘partners’, he meant ‘lovers’!

Time slowed down to a crawl. Lu Guang could see emotions flashing past on Liu Xiao’s face. Shock, rage, judgment, revulsion, before finally falling blank. “Oh?” He reached into his coat pocket. “That’s a shame.” In one fluid movement, Liu Xiao pulled out a gun and aimed it at Lu Guang.

Everyone froze. The girl hid her face against Lu Guang’s chest.

He instantly regretted picking her up.

“I’ll keep this simple.”

Lu Guang feared Liu Xiao before, but now he despised him with all his heart.

He truly was a monster.

“Return to me or die.”

Lu Guang would rather die, but the girl in his arms was clutching at him. His eyes slid over to Cheng Xiaoshi, surprised to see him inching towards the alarm button hidden under the counter.

Everything happened all at once, as if in slow motion.

The wail of the alarm sounded. At the same time, Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes blazed gold as he slammed his palms together.

Liu Xiao jolted back at the sudden noise, finger tightening against the trigger.

Lu Guang’s hold on the girl tightened, eyes clenching shut as he braced for the inevitable.

There was a thud on the floor in front of him, and Lu Guang couldn’t help but look up as Cheng Xiaoshi appeared - sticking the landing for once - directly in the path of the bullet.

Cheng Xiaoshi’s body jerked. He stumbled back, turning slightly as if to reassure himself that Lu Guang and the girl were unharmed. His dark eyes were wide, almost in disbelief. Lu Guang could only stare in horror as crimson blood began to flow. Their eyes met for a single, horrible second.

And then, Cheng Xiaoshi’s body was falling, his once-graceful form crumpling to the floor. A scream rose into the air and Lu Guang only distantly realized it was coming from his own mouth as he ran forward and knelt beside Cheng Xiaoshi, hands instinctively pushing down on the wound.

Blood spread out from him in a pool, growing too big. He couldn’t stop the bleeding; it was gushing past his fingers and drenching his hands.

Cheng Xiaoshi was watching him, a terrible, awful truth behind his eyes that Lu Guang just couldn’t accept.

He bundled him into his arms, cradling him against his chest. “Breathe, Xiaoshi, please!” He could feel the prickling of tears behind his eyes, but he can’t cry, he won’t allow himself to cry. “The police are on their way. Please, just hold on a little longer.”

But Cheng Xiaoshi only chuckled weakly, coughing as blood filled his mouth. “I can’t… Sorry…”

“Cheng Xiaoshi, you have to live!” He clutched his hand, squeezing it in a way that he hoped was reassuring. “You can make it! Just hold on.”

“A-Guang…”

“Yes, I’m here! Focus on my v-!”

“Are… you here? Why aren’t you saying anything?”

Lu Guang’s blood ran cold. He tilted Cheng Xiaoshi’s face up, but there was no recognition in his eyes. “Xiaoshi,” his voice broke.

“Where’d you go? A-Guang…? Come on… Lu Guang, say something.”

“I’m here,” he whispered. He could see Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes moving, searching for someone he could no longer see or hear. He squeezed his hand again. “I love you.” Those tears filled his eyes again. “Do you hear me? I love you!”

But Cheng Xiaoshi didn’t respond to it. Lu Guang had once hoped that the first time he said he loved him would result in Cheng Xiaoshi’s face lighting up, his grin wide enough to illuminate the entire room.

Instead, his ever-fainter voice said, “Are you there? Where are you? It’s… it’s gotten so quiet.”

And Lu Guang couldn’t do anything but hold Cheng Xiaoshi close, feeling his breaths grow shallower and shallower.

Cheng Xiaoshi gave a small sigh, and a terrible expression crossed his face. “So this is what dying’s like.” His eyes began filling up with tears as he stared sightlessly at Lu Guang. “I’m scared.”

“I’m here.”

“Scared. I’m scared.”

“Don’t be afraid. I’m right here.”

“A-Guang… I… I…”

His chest heaved and, to Lu Guang’s astonishment, his eyes began glowing molten amber. As Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyelids fluttered, the brilliant color drained from them at the same time that a new feeling began scorching through Lu Guang’s veins.

He didn’t question, didn’t need to question. He knew instinctively what it was.

He wished he could give it back, wished that Cheng Xiaoshi wasn’t…

Cheng Xiaoshi’s chest shuddered through its last breath before falling still. His hand fell limp in Lu Guang’s shaking grasp.

And yet, he still held him against his chest, as if he was still trying to comfort him. Even as the hand he held grew cold.

They sat there until the police arrived and pulled Lu Guang away, ignoring how he clutched at Cheng Xiaoshi’s body.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The rest of the day passed in a blur, the only constant being the terrible ache in Lu Guang’s heart.

It wasn’t until he stood in their his bedroom that everything crashed down around him. The room yawned around him, too big, too empty, too silent.

He fell to his knees, forearms braced against the floor as the tears finally came.

Somehow, he made his way to the bed, crawling onto the lower bunk, curling up around the pillow that still smelled like Cheng Xiaoshi.

He pressed it against his face, heart breaking as he screamed against the unforgiving fabric.

Notes:

There’s a small theory I’ve seen on Tumblr (before the Bridon Arc) that Cheng Xiaoshi said “Lu Guang, say something” when he died the first time and it just… stuck. And that’s why he says it so often in the show. And that’s why I wrote his death-scene like that. You can also thank Lucrecia for planting that thought in my head.

Chapter 4: So Far Away

Notes:

The picture is a screenshot from one of the three fan-made (but Bilibili-promoted) (I think? Idk) music videos, specifically this one. I edited it to make Cheng's hand grayscale.

So Far Away

 

Content Warnings (Spoiler)

~Basically just Lu Guang having a very bad time, including self-harm via escapism

The bed was cold when Lu Guang roused from unconsciousness. To call it sleep would be giving it a bit too much credit.

Sleep was restful. Rejuvenating.

But each morning Lu Guang woke up more exhausted than before. The memories of days past, of happier times, flitted through his mind.

He stared up at the underside of the upper bunk, trying to find some pattern in the shadows that the sun cast through the window.

Was the sun rising or setting? Lu Guang couldn’t tell.

Then again, it made no difference to him.

He gritted his teeth and rolled over.

He could still feel it.

Cheng Xiaoshi’s power thrummed through his veins like wildfire, taunting him with its presence.

I can take you to him, it seemed to whisper.

It wouldn’t be his Cheng Xiaoshi.

Just one dive. What could happen?

A lot could happen.

Just give in. You know you want to see him again…

“Shut up!” Lu Guang’s voice was hoarse from disuse, but he still barked out the words with as much vitriol as he could muster.

Because he knew it was the truth. He ached to see Cheng Xiaoshi again, missed his presence so badly.

He had so much to tell him that had gone unsaid.

But Cheng Xiaoshi was so far away.

Temptation once again rose up, and Lu Guang nearly launched himself out of bed, waiting desperately to rip the room apart for the most viable photograph.

Instead, he clutched onto the bedsheets for dear life, feeling fresh tears dampen his cheeks.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed, but the sound of the door opening pierced through his fugue state. He didn’t need to look to know who it was.

“I brought congee,” Qiao Ling murmured. He heard the gentle clink of the bowl as it was placed on the desk. Her footsteps receded until they were almost gone.

“Ling-jie.”

The footsteps faltered. “Yes?”

“I need you to do something for me.” Lu Guang opened his eyes, all but boring holes into the wall beside him. “I want you to tie me up.”

“Wh- But why?”

He finally rolled over, meeting her eyes with his red, puffy ones. “Because I can’t control myself forever. Cheng Xiaoshi gave me his power when he died. I risk rewriting our reality if I go back to try to save him.”

She blinked, stunned at his candor.

“Just make it so my hands can’t touch each other,” he begged, desperation bleeding out into every word. “Our reality wouldn’t exist anymore if I get the opportunity to go back.” There was silence. Lu Guang felt his throat close up, heard his voice break horribly even as he said the words: “I’m not strong enough.”

Emotions flashed across Qiao Ling’s face until she finally settled on a sad smile. Walking quietly towards him, she sat on the side of the bed and cupped his cheek with one hand as if she was a mother comforting a small child. “I miss him too,” she whispered.

“Please.” The sight of Qiao Ling blurred before his eyes. “Help me.”

He lost himself in his tears once more.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next time Lu Guang awoke, he could feel something rough biting into his wrists. Turning his head, he felt a teary, bittersweet smile cross his face as he saw that his wrists were tied to the bed frame with loops of rope, one at each corner.

“For the record… you are strong.”

Qiao Ling was sitting in the desk chair next to the bed. Her face was somber as she regarded him. “You’re strong,” she repeated, “because someone weaker than you wouldn’t have worried about the consequences.” She looked away. The unspoken ‘Like I would have’ hung in the air between them.

Lu Guang shook his head. His eyes felt sore. Had he been crying in his sleep again? “But… Qiao Ling… I am weak. I couldn’t…” he took in a shaky breath. “I never told him that I loved him.”

There was a sharp inhale. Then an awkward chuckle, “I’m sure he knew how you felt! You know how perceptive he was!”

He could only sigh in response, resting his head back on the pillow and staring at the underside of the upper bunk. That was when he finally noticed the only other thing that Qiao Ling had changed.

For there, taped to the underside of the upper bunk, was a photograph.

Lu Guang recognized this picture. It was one that he had taken early on in his days at the studio, on the day he told Cheng Xiaoshi he’d move in permanently, if he remembered correctly.

On their way back from an errand, Lu Guang had hung back, admiring the dynamic Cheng Xiaoshi had with Qiao Ling. He’d taken a photo to commemorate the occasion, not just of finding friends, but of finally feeling at home.

Before then, he’d always felt so out of place, no matter where he went.

Cheng Xiaoshi really had personified his ‘home’.

“I thought a photograph of happier times might help.”

Nodding dimly, Lu Guang focused, feeling his eyes burn as he stared at the picture and the world around him spun away.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Yo, Lu! You coming?”

Lu Guang looked up from the picture on his phone to see Cheng Xiaoshi standing in front of the photo studio, beaming at him. “How does hotpot sound to you?”

“You idiot!” Qiao Ling’s voice emanated from inside. “It’s too hot for hotpot! Weren’t you just complaining about the heat?”

He could only sigh as Cheng Xiaoshi and QIao Ling began bickering again. He honestly had no idea what he was getting himself into, but for some reason he felt himself gravitating towards the two.

“Argh, fine! How about we let Lu Guang decide?”

Startled, Lu Guang felt himself jolt as he was suddenly faced with two expectant faces. “Uhh,” he rubbed the back of his neck as he struggled to think of something.

Unfortunately, nothing came to mind in such a short amount of time, so Lu Guang could only suggest. “Hotpot?”

“Ha!” Cheng Xiaoshi pointed a finger in Qiao Ling’s face. “I win! Hotpot prevails!”

Qiao Ling sighed dismissively as she batted his hand away. “Fine. Dumb boys. But if you start melting from the heat, don’t come whining to me!”

The hotpot was delicious, and soon all three were relaxing on the couch with full stomachs and satisfied expressions. Before too long, Qiao Ling left to return home, leaving Lu Guang with Cheng Xiaoshi.

“I’m glad you came back with us,” Cheng Xiaoshi said. “The landlady’s great and all, but having a third really balances things out, y’know?”

They were silent for a moment before Lu Guang spoke up, “Have you thought about reopening this place?”

Cheng Xiaoshi chuckled awkwardly. “Yeah, it’d be great. I love working with cameras and pictures, plus it’d be a good way to start paying Uncle back for the rent, but…” he trailed off, and Lu Guang couldn’t tell if he was reluctant to continue or just unsure of what to say.

“But…?”

Suddenly Cheng Xiaoshi flopped back against the armrest of the couch, sighing dramatically. “But it’s just so much worrrrrk! I don’t even know where to begin!” He gave a light chuckle. “Although, if you’re still crashing here, you could help out, Guang-Guang!”

Something shifted in the air - and only with the benefit of hindsight could Lu Guang tell that a critical node was about to form. He suddenly felt nervous and self-conscious about what he instinctively wanted to say.

“If you want,” Lu Guang heard his own voice before he realized he was speaking. He cleared his throat and started over, “I can stay for good… if you want.”

Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes shone as he sat up. “You mean it?” Before Lu Guang could even answer, Cheng Xiaoshi launched himself across the couch and enveloped Lu Guang in a hug. “Lu Guang, you’re the best!”

Lu Guang’s eyes widened at the sudden overwhelming presence, but he couldn’t bring himself to push him away. Instead, he relaxed into the hold as Cheng Xiaoshi began rambling on about plans of the future, for running the studio together.

Even from the beginning, Lu Guang could tell that Cheng Xiaoshi lived his life endlessly, seizing each day and making the most of it.

It was admirable.

The entire time, on the tip of Lu Guang’s tongue, were the words, ‘I never wanted to move out to begin with. I always wanted to stay with you.’

Words he never said.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Reality settled back around Lu Guang, but he didn’t want it.

He wanted the past.

He needed it.

He wasn’t sure if Qiao Ling had given him the photograph to help or torture him.

Lu Guang could hear QIao Ling saying something, but he blinked rapidly, moistening his eyes before he strained them again.

“Yo, Lu! You coming?”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He wasn’t sure what day it was anymore. Then again, it didn’t matter.

“Yo, Lu! You coming?”

All that mattered was seeing more of Cheng Xiaoshi, when he was bright and shining and full of life.

“̷Y̸o̸,̵ ̸L̶u̶!̴ ̸Y̵o̶u̶ ̷c̸o̴m̶i̵n̵g̴?̸”̶

A knife, sharp and searing, began to saw away at his mind.

His eyes felt like they were on fire.

“̸̥̅Ý̴͎o̷͕͝,̴͙͠ ̶̤̈́L̷̢͗u̷̢͗!̶̳͛ ̴̥̔Y̶̢̎o̵̢͘ȕ̸͚ ̶̰͒c̸͉̎o̷͇̊m̶͚͊í̸̲ṉ̸̐g̴̖͠?̷̞̑”̴͉́

It wasn’t enough.

It was never enough.

He could only watch. He could never reach out. Like a mother chiding her son by saying, “Look but don’t touch.”

It was like a one-way mirror. Happiness was right there, nearly tangible, but he could only watch it from the other side of the glass, never able to fully grasp it.

Cheng Xiaoshi was so close and yet so far away.

He could feel reality settle in around him, could feel his physical body again, how it revolted against being used so relentlessly. Even so, he strained his eyes again, but stopped short when he realized there was something wrong.

The underside of the upper bunk was bare.

“Qiao Ling! Give that back,” he demanded, his voice lowering as he glared at her.

She frowned but shook her head. “You’ve been losing yourself in this too much, Lu Guang. I never should have given it to you.”

“Excuse me?” Lu Guang huffed, straining against the rope even as he felt it bite into the sensitive skin on his wrists. “You don’t get to do that after giving it to me!”

“It’s escapism! You’re losing yourself in the same picture over and over for weeks!” He could tell she was trying to sound reasonable, but her words just pained him more. “It can’t be healthy.”

Lu Guang frowned. “Because it’s the only thing I have.” He tugged on the rope for emphasis. “I know that no matter how bad it is out here, I can always take solace in the past. In Cheng Xiaoshi. And, yes, it is escapism. So is reading a book. You’ve seen me read countless times before. So, why,” his voice cracked, “Why are you making a big deal about it now?”

“Because it’s destroying you!” Tears were streaking down her face. “You’re torturing yourself over and over again, and I can’t let you keep doing it!” The mattress shifted as she sat down next to him, angling her face away from his view. “You can’t leave me here, all alone. I loved him too, you know. And I can’t just stand by and watch you torture yourself!”

“I can’t live without him!”

“You have to try!” she shouted back. Then, in a much-calmer tone, “It’s what he would have wanted. Let me help you.”

It was the truth, Lu Guang knew it deep down. He knew that Cheng Xiaoshi wouldn’t have wanted him to waste his life away mourning him or trying to get him back.

He opened his mouth. “Okay.” His voice sounded so small. So scared.

But Qiao Ling smiled. And that helped him feel a little better.

Chapter 5: Midnight Thoughts

Notes:

Huge thank you to Sunny (aka, IntoTheFrisson) for allowing me to put her art in this chapter! You can find her on Tumblr, Archive Of Our Own, and on her own website! This is actually edited by me, merging her two versions of the same picture (one with Cheng Xiaoshi and one without) to make him seem more ghost-like. Thank you Sunny for creating such great artwork!

Midnight Thoughts

 

Content Warnings (Spoiler)

~Mourning
~Ghost Cheng Xiaoshi (but a figment of Lu Guang's imagination)
~Twisted version of Cheng Xiaoshi
~Does this count as intrusive thoughts?

It was quiet in the studio, with the only sound coming from the ticking of the clock. A slice of moonlight drifted in through the window, illuminating Lu Guang’s form on the bottom bunk.

It had stopped smelling of Cheng Xiaoshi’s body wash long ago, but he couldn’t bring himself to move back up to his own bunk, feeling closer to his departed partner that way.

He rubbed the burns on his wrists, curling up on his side. Qiao Ling had done her job well; she’d removed all the photographs of Cheng Xiaoshi and their past together and destroyed them. Just knowing that made his heart ache, but he knew it was for the best.

She had awoken him when she untied his wrists, eyes trained to the floor as she reported in a flat voice, “It’s done.”

Up until that point, Lu Guang knew that there was a chance that he could save Cheng Xiaoshi. That he could use the foreign power gifted to him to jump into a photo and rewrite all of it.

But when she said those words, the magnitude of reality bore down on him, crushing him under the knowledge of what they’d done.

He could never go back.

And Lu Guang wept.

Qiao Ling had seemed unsure of what to do, but eventually decided to give him privacy, leaving the studio and letting Lu Guang pick up the pieces of his fractured heart alone.

He’d stopped crying long ago, tear ducts puffy and tender from overuse, but his heart still yearned, reaching out for someone who was no longer there.

He wished that Qiao Ling had stayed. Because then, at least he wouldn’t feel alone.

‘But you’re not alone,’ came an achingly-familiar voice. Through his blurry vision, Lu Guang could make out a head of fluffy, unruly black hair as its owner knelt beside the bed. ‘You’ll always have me, won’t you, Guang-Guang?’

His heart, already cracked into tiny pieces, broke even more as he stared up into a grinning face.

He couldn’t bear to look, so he closed his eyes, rolling over and trying to ignore it.

But there was no turning away from a ghost, especially when it lived in his mind. The voice continued, ‘Aren’t you gonna even say anything to me? I thought we were best friends, partners, even.’ His voice got closer, and Lu Guang could almost delude himself into believing his breath was blowing the strands of his hair ever so slightly.

Lu Guang curled up even smaller, trying to shut out the sound.

It sounded so much like him.

‘Come on, Lu Guang,’ he whispered. ‘Don’t you love me?”

Lu Guang balled his hands into fists, crumpling the sheets between his fingers. His eyes were watery. He was on the verge of crying.

“…Hah.” A dry laugh escaped his lips.

‘That’s the spirit, A-Guang!’

Lu Guang laughed, but it sounded brittle; like he had to force it out of his chest. The entire time, scalding tears poured from his eyes. Finally, he rolled over, catching sight of the ghostly image of Cheng Xiaoshi. He was smiling, but there was something about it that made him want to recoil, flinching away from the face he’d come to love over the years.

The thought twisted his gut, burned the gaping hole that used to be his heart.

‘Aww, what’s wrong? Don’t you trust me? Don’t you love me?’

“Yes,” came the immediate answer from between Lu Guang’s lips, unable to lie to a question like that.

‘Then use my power.’

The words made Lu Guang’s blood run cold. “Wh- what?”

‘You heard me,’ Cheng Xiaoshi’s smile disappeared as he straightened up, staring down at Lu Guang with something similar to contempt. ‘Use my power to go back and save me.’

Lu Guang could only weakly shake his head, pressing his face into Cheng Xiaoshi’s pillow.

There was a beat of silence, then he heard a huff from somewhere above him. He felt something ice cold against his cheek. Looking up, he saw Cheng Xiaoshi’s form, hand outstretched as it cupped his face. His expression was blank, and something about it turned Lu Guang’s stomach. ‘Why do you think I gave you my power?’

“I…” Lu Guang searched for an answer, for some reason why Cheng Xiaoshi would have done such a thing. “I don’t know. So I could continue helping clients?”

In an instant, the soft, cool hand caressing his face gripped his jaw as Cheng Xiaoshi leaned in close. ‘Wrong!’ Lu Guang wanted to back away, wanted to cower in fear, but he couldn’t move, unable to do anything but stare back into Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes.

‘I gave you my power so you could come back and save me. But,’ his expression morphed into looking almost hurt, ‘you’re just throwing it away.’

The knot in Lu Guang’s throat grew, lodging itself in so deep that he couldn’t catch his breath. “You’re wrong,” he gasped. “Cheng Xiaoshi would never want me to go back to that day and save him. That little girl would die without him.”

Cheng Xiaoshi finally released his jaw, huffing again and making a flippant gesture. ‘So what?’

And that solidified the knowledge that this couldn’t be his Cheng Xiaoshi, acting so blasé about human lives.

Because he died saving people’s lives, a child’s life. Lu Guang knew that if Cheng Xiaoshi - the real Cheng Xiaoshi - had the opportunity again, he wouldn’t hesitate.

He felt his tears begin to fall again as he sat up. “Go away,” he muttered, standing. He stepped forward, through the specter as he padded to the window. His hand was outstretched, about to shut the blinds when the ghost made one last attempt:

‘But I love you!’

Something snapped in Lu Guang when he heard that. He whirled around and marched right up into Cheng Xiaoshi’s face, uncaring that he was a fragment of his own imagination.

Maybe he needed to hear this as much as he needed to say it.

“Shut up. You don’t get to say that. You are not him. You will never be him! Don’t think you can bait me into rewriting history and changing the entire world! I have to stay here because… because…” he trailed off, searching for a reason for him to stay.

Cheng Xiaoshi chuckled and patted him on the top of his head condescendingly. ‘Oh, don’t even bother, Lu Guang. We both know that you want to go back. After all, there’s nothing left for you here.’

“You’re wrong,” Lu Guang sobbed. “I’d be damning everyone here. Think about the child you died saving. Think about Qiao Ling!”

‘But they’ll still be alive in the past! Just make one small change: close the studio that day. Then, you’ll still have me. Not dead.’

“No! I can’t!” God, he wished he could grab Cheng Xiaoshi’s collar and try to shake some sense into him. But his hands just misted through his form. “Liu Xiao will just come another day and it’ll all happen over again!” His voice rose and, in the back of his mind, he was grateful that Qiao Ling had gone home. “You are doomed to die! Death is the unchangeable node!”

‘But with your power combined with mine,’ Lu Guang shivered as the ghost gently grabbed both of his hands, positioning them in front of him, palms barely an inch apart from each other. ‘…you can rewrite history.’ His voice grew low, almost reverent. ‘You can become a god.’

It was as if the ghost was a parasite that had latched onto his brain, refusing to let go no matter how much Lu Guang struggled. “You’re sick,” he breathed, aimed just as much inwardly as towards the ghost. He was disgusted with himself for even coming up with the thought.

‘But I’m not wrong.’

And Lu Guang couldn’t even dispute him. Because, deep down, he was selfish. More than anything else, he wished he could use his borrowed power, go back to a time before their idyllic life had even the notion of tragedy.

But it wasn’t right. Time would break open like an egg dropped onto a hard surface.

When Lu Guang first explained his power to Cheng Xiaoshi, he described the nodes that he was able to see whenever he peered into the past, how if one of the nodes was changed that history as they knew it would be altered, broken.

Even so…

“You’re not wrong,” Lu Guang sighed, shoulders slumping. “I want to see you again, but I have to be strong.” He looked up, meeting Cheng Xiaoshi’s gaze and trying not to identify the emotions he saw on his face. “I love you.” Saying it to Cheng Xiaoshi’s ghost instead of the man himself made something in Lu Guang’s chest twinge, but he ignored it. “I love you. Please don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

Ghost Cheng Xiaoshi’s expression hardened slightly before softening into something akin to pity. ‘If you ever need me, I’ll always be here,’ he whispered as he faded away, settling back into white noise in the back of Lu Guang’s head.

Without any more preamble, Lu Guang turned around and walked back to the window.

‘You’ll come around.’

“Even so… I don’t have a photograph,” he said with a sad smile. Refusing to look back, Lu Guang shut the blinds, plunging the room in darkness.

Chapter 6: Bound With Time

Notes:

This artwork was created by Shima (@shima-004160.bsky.social), but unfortunately the account has been deleted.

Bound With Time

 

Content Warnings (Spoiler)

~Mention of a cemetery
~Anhedonia (loss of interest in everything, especially what used to bring joy)
~Suicide Attempt (sleeping pills, but all it brings about is a vivid dream and a stomachache)
~More Good Friend Qiao Ling

Lu Guang stared out of the window at the passing scenery. His fingers tightened around the single daisy in his hands.

He could vaguely hear Qiao Ling beside him, attempting to make conversation, but it was easier to tune her out than interact.

Some small part of him couldn’t help but blame her for destroying all those photos, even if he knew it was for the best.

Finally, inevitably, the world on the other side of the window slowed to a stop. “It’s time,” Qiao Ling murmured as she rested a hand on Lu Guang’s shoulder.

He wasn’t ready for this. He didn’t want to do this.

And yet, he found his legs moving, walking next to Qiao Ling as she led him down the right path. Stone markers loomed on either side of them as they ventured farther, Lu Guang averted his eyes, reluctant to meet the gazes of the dead.

They stopped.

Lu Guang looked up.

His heart clenched as he was met with Cheng Xiaoshi’s smiling face. The picture was small where it rested on the gravestone, but that grin was unmistakable.

His hands itched to clap inside, just to see him again, but he kept them at his sides. He did, however, focus his gaze on the picture, feeling his eyes begin to burn as his power activated.

A sharp, stabbing pain lanced through his head, and he had to double over, massaging his temples.

“It’s not a picture.”

Lu Guang peered up at Qiao Ling through the haze covering his vision. “What?”

“I… I didn’t want to tempt you any more, so I got someone to paint a picture of him. That way…” she sniffled and wiped a tear away from her eye. “That way, we can still see him.”

He had no words as his headache ebbed. “I… appreciate that… Ling-jie.”

“Look, Lu Guang…” she hesitated, looking back at the grave and at Cheng Xiaoshi’s smiling face. “…try to live in the moment, because there’s nothing else but now. It’s what he would have wanted, right? To live a good life, even if he’s not here. Just… don’t let his memory down.”

But what was the point of memories when he couldn’t go back to them? They were just wasted.

Their time together had been so brief, there and gone like a leaf blown away in the wind before he knew it.

He wished that Liu Xiao had killed him instead. That way, it’d be his name marked in stone rather than Cheng Xiaoshi’s.

Qiao Ling pulled him into an embrace. “Try to take advantage of every day. Every second counts.”

And Lu Guang tried. He did.

But it was a losing game.

He wasn’t sure how many days (weeks?) had passed since he visited Cheng Xiaoshi’s grave, every day drifting by the same.

Lu Guang had never felt so lost in his life.

He hated how empty the studio felt, but he couldn’t find it in himself to leave.

He couldn’t bear living without Cheng Xiaoshi any more.

Standing in front of the bathroom counter, Lu Guang braced his arms on both sides of the sink, staring at his reflection.

He was in a sorry state. His shirt hung off his gaunt frame as his sunken eyes almost glared at himself.

Finally reaching a silent decision, he opened the cabinet and began rummaging through the bottles within. Eventually, he pulled out what he was looking for and, casting one more grim look back at the mirror, left the bathroom.

He found himself sitting on the edge of Cheng Xiaoshi’s bed, gaze fixed on the pills in his hand.

They were only a sleep aid, but a handful should be enough, right? Lu Guang wasn’t sure.

But he didn’t care.

Before long, he’d swallowed them all, leaning back on Cheng Xiaoshi’s bed as fatigue began to pull on his limbs. As he stared at the underside of the upper bunk, Lu Guang could’ve sworn he saw the shadows warp until they formed Cheng Xiaoshi’s face.

He seemed to lean down, closer to Lu Guang who, in turn, struggled to raise his head, trembling with the effort to reach him.

The exhaustion flooding his body eventually won. Lu Guang’s head hit the pillow, eyelids fluttering shut.

The last thing he saw was the shadowy image of Cheng Xiaoshi looking down at him, an unreadable expression across his face.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Time passed, and Lu Guang drifted through it, numb to everything. It felt like he was floating, scenes from his life flashing all around him like a movie on an enormous screen. Lights shone around him, looking almost like the critical nodes he saw whenever he looked into a picture.

Without warning, the movie surrounding him stopped, the picture replaced with a close-up of Cheng Xiaoshi’s face. “Lu Guang.” His expression was pained as he regarded Lu Guang floating in nothingness.

For the first time since entering this place, Lu Guang spoke: “Cheng Xiaoshi…”

Lu Guang’s body jerked, as if someone had grabbed him and began pulling him away from Cheng Xiaoshi. He reached out a hand, attempting to grab onto him, but his searching fingers only met air.

His eyes flew wide open, gasping for breath as if he’d just resurfaced from being underwater. He jackknifed into a sitting position, crying out from the pain in his stomach as he clutched it.

“Lu Guang,” he heard his name again, but this time it wasn’t spoken with Cheng Xiaoshi’s voice.

He managed to look up, freezing as he met Qiao Ling’s tearful gaze. He felt tears fill his own eyes.

She sat down next to him, wrapping her arms around him. “Please, let me help you.”

Lu Guang watched her even as liquid fell from his eyes, scalding his cheeks. He felt so stiff in her grasp.

Slowly, incredibly slowly, he felt his body unfolding as he leaned into her embrace.

He couldn’t help comparing it to how Cheng Xiaoshi used to hug him.

His hands clutched onto her, as if she was the only thing keeping him afloat. “Stay,” he managed to gasp out.

“…I will,” she whispered, and it sounded so terribly sad.

Lu Guang buried his face in her shoulder, trying to ignore how, deep down inside, he wished that he had died. How he selfishly wished that, if Cheng Xiaoshi had to die, that it could be after Lu Guang was already gone. He could be buried next to him, their names marked in stone side-by-side.

Maybe, as the only person able to view the timeline, Lu Guang had become bound to it, unable to do anything but look on as its sole viewer.

Unable to die.

Notes:

Apologies for the delay in this chapter! I was at a convention (cosplaying as Lu Guang) and both myself and my beta reader caught a nasty illness. I hope to update this story more frequently now that I'm feeling much better!

Chapter 7: Angel’s Siren Song

Notes:

I’ve tried to track down the artist for this piece of art, but haven’t been able to locate them (even with reverse image searching).

Angel’s Siren Song

 

Content Warnings (Spoiler)

~Lu Guang becoming less emotional
~Minor depersonalization/derealization (feeling detached and disconnected from one’s body, feelings, and environment)
~Almost drowning (during dream sequence)
~Minor/Non-Graphic body mutations (during dream sequence)

Months passed, and Qiao Ling had all but moved into the photo studio with Lu Guang. He always appreciated her presence, especially when the pain reared its ugly head again.

She had destroyed all of Lu Guang’s photos and, while it hurt not being able to look into the past and see Cheng Xiaoshi, he knew it was for the best.

A year after Cheng Xiaoshi’s death, the two of them reopened the photo studio. While it had always been Cheng Xiaoshi’s passion dealing with cameras and film, Lu Guang did his best to make him proud.

They didn’t get many customers, but that was fine with Lu Guang. Ever since Cheng Xiaoshi’s death, he found his personality changing, hardening, becoming less emotional.

He grew quiet, sometimes going days without speaking, only taking solace in his books and the couch bathed in light.

“Your hair,” Qiao Ling stammered when she finally got around to visiting him. He’d lost track of how long it had been since he saw her; most of the time nowadays was spent caring for her sick mother instead of helping out at the studio.

“What about it?” His voice was low from disuse, and he didn’t miss how it made her wince.

Instead of answering, she pulled a small mirror out of her pocket and handed it to Lu Guang.

He tried not to grimace as he took it. He’d been avoiding his reflection for a while, trying to avoid anything that reminded him too much of Cheng Xiaoshi.

But, as he looked at himself, he could finally see what Qiao Ling had noticed.

His hair had grown, black-turned gray framing his face, but near the top of his head it had begun growing in snow-white. From how much white there was, it looked like it had been growing that way for a while, and Lu Guang just hadn’t noticed.

All he could manage to say was, “Huh.”

Even as Qiao Ling busied herself with finding proper scissors and began cutting his hair shorter, he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

He couldn’t help but imagine how Cheng Xiaoshi would react to seeing it.

“Wow, you’re really a grandpa now, aren’t you?”

He could practically hear the teasing tone, could see the wide, lopsided smile.

“All done.”

Numbly, Lu Guang held up the mirror that Qiao Ling had pushed into his hands, looking at his hair again.

It was cut short, looking almost the same as it had a year prior. His now-white locks seemed to bounce with a liveliness that Lu Guang hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Thank you, Ling-jie.”

He could distantly hear her prattling on, commenting on how unusual it was, but he chose to ignore it.

Instead, he busied himself with getting a customer’s photographs in order, trying not to think too hard.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Months passed like minutes and years like hours, but Lu Guang never left the photo studio. Qiao Ling’s father was compassionate enough to allow him to stay, working off his rest slowly.

So he did.

Life became monotonous and gray, each day like the last.

He could tell that Qiao Ling was worried about him, but couldn’t bring himself to care.

Finally, on a day that felt as boring as the rest, something changed.

Lu Guang was on a ladder, rummaging through Cheng Xiaoshi’s old clothes when his searching fingers closed around an envelope. He withdrew it from the bundle of clothes, brow furrowing as he turned it over.

There were no identifying markers on it, and no way of telling how long it had sat in there before he found it.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Lu Guang lifted the flap and shook the contents out onto his waiting hand.

His breath froze in his throat, eyes widening.

They were the pictures that he had taken when he’d first met Cheng Xiaoshi.

Most of them were mundane, with a few being of class the day prior and a few capturing the very bedroom he was standing in.

The last picture was what made his heart begin to hurt.

It was of Cheng Xiaoshi sitting on the couch in the sunroom. He was focused on his phone, playing some game or other, but the sun filtered in through the window, framing Cheng Xiaoshi in light and making him look angelic.

Lu Guang pressed it against his chest, blinking back tears. It had been so long since he’d seen Cheng Xiaoshi, even in a picture, that he’d nearly forgotten what he looked like.

But he could never forget Cheng Xiaoshi.

Giving into temptation just once, he lifted the photograph before his eyes and focused.

It had been years since he’d used his power, but it worked just as well as he remembered it. The world spun away, replaced with a scene from the past. Cheng Xiaoshi looked up and gave him a brilliant smile. “Oh hey. You’re up! How do you feel about breakfast?”

Lu Guang treasured the twelve hours he got to watch, smiling to himself as he relived happier days.

That night, he placed the envelope underneath his pillow, praying that it would give him good dreams of a time long past.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The sound of waves was the first thing that Lu Guang registered. It came from all around him, the feeling of the ocean lapping at him from all sides.

His chest felt tight, and he realized that he could feel water against his face. He strained his eyes, trying to find which way was up, trying to swim free of the dark water that threatened to swallow him whole.

There was light above him, but it seemed so far away. He reached a hand up, fingers straining to grab ahold of something, anything, but failing. He could feel himself sinking, drifting further and further down into the endless black abyss.

A hand grabbed his, pulling him up, up, up out of the water.

Lu Guang opened his eyes to find himself floating in a galaxy of stars. The hand cupped his chin, angling his head up until he came face-to-face with his savior.

The smiling face of Cheng Xiaoshi greeted him, face nearly as radiant as the light framing him. He hovered before Lu Guang, barely flapping his snow-white wings. Even so, feathers drifted past them, caught in a nonexistent breeze.

An intense pain came from the top of his head, but Lu Guang couldn’t bring himself to look away from Cheng Xiaoshi. It felt like something was digging into his skull and growing upwards, but he was helpless to do anything but float, held up by Cheng Xiaoshi’s hand, and watch.

Cheng Xiaoshi’s halo seemed to glow as his mouth opened, an ethereal voice coming forth and coiling around Lu Guang like smoke. “O’ brokenhearted one, your soul has grown weary.”

Even as he said it, a weight made itself known in Lu Guang’s chest. It was one he was all-too familiar with, one that he’d learned to live with ever since Cheng Xiaoshi’s death; he was able to ignore it most days.

But now, it demanded Lu Guang’s attention.

It felt like the weight would drag him back down into the ocean, would drown him, if not for Cheng Xiaoshi’s hand gently holding his chin.

More pain erupted from Lu Guang’s back, the sensation almost immediately soothed by Cheng Xiaoshi’s words.

“May my wings embrace you, lull you softly to sleep. Ease away all the hurt and pain that you’ve carried through the years.”

Do you know? Lu Guang wanted to ask. Do you know how much I’ve gone through since your death? Do you miss me as much as I miss you? The words never came, as if he was struck dumb by the scene before his eyes.

Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes grew intense, seeming to overflow with gold. “But, if given the chance, would you turn to the past?”

What?

“You and I can start all over.”

The gold slowly drained from Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes, and Lu Guang felt a familiar burning within his veins.

Oh.

He’d forgotten.

He could go back.

He almost missed Cheng Xiaoshi’s hand slipping from his chin, his angelic form drifting further and further away. Lu Guang found himself held aloft only by his own wings, black and leathery, much like a bat’s.

Straining, he flapped them, trying to catch up to Cheng Xiaoshi, but he always seemed to be just out of reach.

Something tickled his brow, and Lu Guang reached up, finding one of Cheng Xiaoshi’s feathers speared onto horns that had sprouted from his head. He clutched it to his chest as he pushed his wings harder and harder.

When he awoke, his arm was outstretched, still trying to reach for someone who was long gone.

Notes:

Qiao Ling hadn’t destroyed the photographs like she’d told Lu Guang. She couldn’t bear to destroy the last remnant of her little brother, so she just hid them, hoping that the lie would be enough to dissuade him from looking. And it worked, for a bit.

My apologies to my Dear Readers. Due to some mental heal issues and self esteem issues, I have been forgetting to update this story. I am feeling better now, and have regular updates in the works. The next few chapters are my favorites, so please stay tuned!

Chapter 8: Time Travel

Notes:

Huge thank you to Natsu for allowing me to put their art in this chapter! You can find their carrd here. Thanks for making such great art!

Time Travel

 

Content Warnings (Spoiler)

~Temptation
~Flashback of Cheng Xiaoshi dying
~Return of Ghost Cheng Xiaoshi
~Lying

He could go back.

Lu Guang was almost dizzy with excitement.

He could see Cheng Xiaoshi again, could talk to him.

‘What about the timeline?’ asked a small voice within him.

I’ll only go back for a short time, he answered it.

He checked the clock. He’d closed up the shop for the night already, and Qiao Ling wasn’t supposed to stop by until tomorrow. He should have enough time, provided he didn’t linger longer than he should.

Rifling through the other photographs he’d found stashed away, Lu Guang selected one a few years into their friendship, from when they were goofing off and taking pictures of each other. In the photograph, Cheng Xiaoshi was smiling wide, hand outstretched as he attempted to grab the camera in mock anger.

The corners of Lu Guang’s mouth twitched upwards in a fond smile.

He set the photograph in front of him on the desk.

With one more quick glance at the clock, he held his hands out in front of him.

He clapped.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Hey! Give it back!”

Lu Guang inhaled sharply, eyes flying open and locking onto Cheng Xiaoshi. He could only gawk as the magnitude of his actions hit him.

He’d just traveled back in time.

He’d always assumed it felt similar to his own power, like it was happening before his eyes, but more distant.

More removed.

But this was real.

He could feel the sun against his skin, could hear Cheng Xiaoshi’s laughter echoing around the sunroom.

It’d been years since he heard that laugh.

Unbidden, tears began welling up in Lu Guang’s eyes.

Cheng Xiaoshi was here, alive.

…and looking at him warily.

“Lu? Is everything okay?” He waved a hand in front of Lu Guang’s face, concern etched across his own. “You look… I dunno… scared? And your hair…”

“A-Shi…” Lu Guang couldn’t stop the term of endearment from escaping his lips as tears he’d been suppressing for so long finally ran down his cheeks.

Cheng Xiaoshi reared back, emotions warring in his eyes. “Who are you?”

Lu Guang hated seeing the fear and distrust in Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes, but all it did was make his tears flow even more. His shoulders shook and his gut twisted. All he could manage to say was, “A-Shi…”

“Wha-?” Then something sparked in his eyes. “…Lu Guang?”

And Lu Guang nodded, unable to say anything else.

In an instant, strong arms enveloped his shaking frame, and Lu Guang felt himself melt into them. It had been so long since he’d felt this.

“What happened to you?” The words were murmured against his hair, muffled, but he still heard them anyway.

Not that he could answer.

But, then again, he had time.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He didn’t know how long it took for him to calm down, but the sun was setting, slipping into the golden hour that Cheng Xiaoshi loved so much.

They were sitting on the couch, separated but watching each other.

Lu Guang wiped the last few tears from his eyes, trying to ignore how Cheng Xiaoshi tracked the movement. “I… suppose I owe you an explanation.”

He looked down, breathing deeply. Just before he continued, a voice interrupted him: “No.” Cheng Xiaoshi’s expression was solemn as he regarded Lu Guang. “Please… don’t tell me.”

“But-!”

“Stop. I can assume a few things, none of which are good.” His expression twisted. “Why would you come back? How?”

Unbidden, Lu Guang’s eyes flicked to Cheng Xiaoshi’s torso, right where Liu Xiao’s bullet tore through the flesh. Cheng Xiaoshi’s hand moved, following his gaze until it rested over the future wound. “Oh.”

He shouldn’t be here. He really shouldn’t be here. Even just his presence risked changing the timeline. Lu Guang held up his hands, ready to clap out when Cheng Xiaoshi gently grasped them. “Wait,” he said. “Stay.”

And Lu Guang just couldn’t say ‘no.’ Even though he should. He really should. His hands shook in Cheng Xiaoshi’s betraying his emotions.

“You’ve been through so much, haven’t you,” he whispered as he pulled Lu Guang into his arms, against his chest, against his still-beating heart.

Lu Guang clutched at Cheng Xiaoshi’s shirt, balling it in his fists. “It’s my fault.”

“I’m sure it isn’t-!”

“No, you don’t understand!” The words tumbled out faster, more frantic and desperate. “It’s all my fault!” A-Shi-!” His voice broke from the force of the swelling emotions in his chest. “If only I’d never… I’m so, so sorry that I ever walked onto the court that day. I’m sorry you ever met me, I’m-!”

“Lu Guang!”

And Lu Guang couldn’t help but freeze. He’d heard Cheng Xiaoshi yell out in anger before, but never before had he sounded so distraught.

“Never say that. Please, never regret meeting me, because you’ve been the best thing in my life in so long.” The arms wrapped around him tightened. “Please… please never go back and change that day.”

He could feel Cheng Xiaoshi’s tears dripping down, moistening his hair. Closing his eyes, he nodded, releasing his hold on Cheng Xiasohi’s shirt. He sat back up, wiping his eyes. “I promise,” he whispered.

That day on the basketball court was something special, sacred to both of them.

Cheng Xiaoshi gave a small smile. “You should probably go back now. Qiao Ling is supposed to be coming by soon.”

Lu Guang didn’t want to go, didn’t want to say goodbye to Cheng Xiaoshi again. “I miss you,” he couldn’t help but say.

He received a bittersweet smile in return. “I know.”

Breathing deeply, he held his hands out in front of him. He stole one more glance at Cheng Xiaoshi, trying to memorize how he looked when he was alive and happy.

He clapped.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning, Qiao Ling came to visit, a gift of milk tea in her hands. “Lu Guang, what happened to you?”

He jolted awake. Rubbing the sleep from his face, he knew he had to look exhausted. He’d clapped back to the present just before the store was supposed to open, giving him no time to rest and recuperate before he had to get to work.

Instead of answering her, he merely took the proffered milk tea. “Thank you, Qiao Ling,” he murmured.

Even though his body was paying the price for it now, Lu Guang couldn’t regret visiting Cheng Xiaoshi. It had been so long since he’d seen him that the trip had been worth it.

And, as far as he could tell, it had no lingering effect on the present.

Qiao Ling was acting the same. Cheng Xiaoshi was still…

Nothing had changed.

He found himself giving lingering glances at the studio around him, at the life that he’d lived, partially with Cheng Xiaoshi, partially without. How memories arose everywhere he turned, both of the good…

Lu Guang snuggled closer to Cheng Xiaoshi, sighing contentedly.

…and the bad.

Cheng Xiaoshi’s bloodstained lips parted, trying to say something but unable to find breath.

He hated that memory, hated the feeling of Cheng Xiaoshi’s cooling body in his arms.

Hated how their idyllic life had been shattered that day.

It had shattered… but that didn’t mean it was beyond reparation.

‘Does this have to be the end?’ that small voice in the back of Lu Guang’s mind asked.

He found himself in the darkroom, watching his reflection in the rippling liquids instead of working with them. “If I go back…” he murmured, “…we could start again.”

Rewriting history didn’t have to be a bad thing. He recalled those everyday mistakes - how Cheng Xiaoshi had dropped a bowl of ramen one time, which had stained the couch; how Lu Guang had tripped and fallen during a rainy day, twisting his ankle.

He could make their years together even better than they already were.

That feeling of happiness, of unbridled joy that he’d felt in the past… he needed it.

And it only existed in the past, with Cheng Xiaoshi.

Finally reaching a decision, he exited the darkroom and flipped the sign in the window. He didn’t care that it was the middle of the day; it wasn’t going to matter in a few moments anyway.

Climbing the steps to the bedroom, Lu Guang nearly jumped as he turned the corner and caught sight of something that he hadn’t seen in years.

The ghostly form of Cheng Xiaoshi stood in the middle of the bedroom, a knowing look across his face.

Lu Guang ignored him, walking straight to where he’d stashed the photographs.

His fingers lingered on that first picture of Cheng Xiaoshi he’d snapped, gazing at it almost reverently.

He really did look like an angel.

But he eventually deemed it too special to use, pulling out one of the test pictures he’d taken earlier that day.

He could feel the presence of the ghost lingering just behind him, but his presence paled in comparison to the real Cheng Xiaoshi.

And the only way to get to the real Cheng Xiaoshi…

“As long as I can travel through time, I’ll never say goodbye,” he spoke to the beautiful picture of Cheng Xiaoshi. “I’ll have all I ever need.”

He quickly scrawled a note to Qiao Ling, an apology. He didn’t say when he’d be back.

He didn’t expect to ever come back to a reality like this.

Fixing his eyes on the photograph of the bedroom, Lu Guang clapped his hands and went all the way back.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The sun was rising.

The camera felt heavy in his hands, a warm, familiar weight.

Thinking quickly, Lu Guang snapped an extra picture, just in case something went wrong during this dive.

And then, it was time to go downstairs. Lu Guang opened the door and began descending, excitement making his heart pound in his chest. He stepped off of the last stair and looked up, breath catching in his throat.

The scene before him was as beautiful as he remembered it, with soft sunlight filtering in through the window and making Cheng Xiaoshi’s form glow.

Lu Guang raised the camera to his eyes.

The shutter clicked.

Cheng Xiaoshi looked up and gave him a brilliant smile. “Oh hey. You’re up!” He paused, eyes growing wide. “Whoa, what happened to you?”

Lu Guang offered him a thin smile as he scratched the back of his head. “I know. My dad went white at a young age too.”

“Okay, but… overnight? How does that happen?”

He could only offer a hopefully-clueless shrug. “Bad dreams?”

There was a beat of silence before Cheng Xiaoshi began laughing uproariously. “You’re seriously like a grandpa now!”

Lu Guang felt himself relax, sinking seamlessly into the past.

He was home.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“You’re a bit different than how I remember.”

It was a few months into their friendship, only a handful of weeks after he’d officially moved in. Lu Guang looked up from his book, eyebrows furrowing. “What do you mean?”

This hadn’t happened before.

“I… can’t exactly explain it,” Cheng Xiaoshi sighed as he tumbled onto the couch next to Lu Guang. “And it’s not bad,” he was quick to defend himself. “I just could’ve sworn you were more… I dunno… energetic?

Lu Guang snorted inwardly, restraining himself from saying ‘I haven’t been that energetic in years.’ Instead, he said, “Perhaps I had too much caffeine back then?”

“Yeah… that’s probably it.”

It had been difficult getting his emotions under control. For a long time, every morning that Lu Guang awoke, he’d feel tears pooling in his eyes when he saw Cheng Xiaoshi.

He was lucky that Cheng Xiaoshi liked to sleep in late, otherwise he would’ve noticed. Of that, there was no doubt in Lu Guang’s mind,

But he had to control his emotions, so, unsure of what else to do, he locked them away in a deep, dark corner of his mind.

He couldn’t afford any distractions. Especially now, when Cheng Xiaoshi’s life hung in the balance.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

There came a day, a little over a year after he moved in, when Lu Guang was basking on the couch in the sunroom, enjoying the warmth and reading one of his favorite books. Even though he already knew the story backwards and forwards, he became so captivated by it that he didn’t even register his surroundings until a finger prodded at the side of his head.

Blinking rapidly, Lu Guang looked up into Cheng Xiaoshi’s mildly-concerned face. “You good, man? You weren’t responding.”

Lu Guang huffed and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to ignore the beginnings of a headache. “Because I was reading. Idiot,” he added affectionately.

“Well, I brought you tea like an hour ago and asked if you needed anything and you said you were good, but then you didn’t drink the tea, sooo…”

Lu Guang glanced at the table. Sure enough, there sat a neglected mug of cold tea. His brow furrowed. He didn’t even remember any of that.

His head twinged.

“I was just caught up in the story is all.”

Cheng Xiaoshi hummed before he pitched forward, leaning to try to read the cover, despite the impossible angle. “So… Whatcha readin’? I see you with this book all the time. Is it really that good?”

Lu Guang closed the book in question and stared at the front cover, running his fingers over the worn edges. “From a narrative perspective, I relate to the story.”

At that, Cheng Xiaoshi chuckled good-naturedly. “Well, if it’s got someone as cold as you singing its praises, then it must be good!”

Lu Guang bristled inwardly at being called ‘cold’ by the object of his affections, but said nothing.

Oblivious to the effect his words had, Cheng Xiaoshi settled down on the cushion next to Lu Guang, looking at him expectantly. “Tell me about it.”

Glancing once more between his eagerly-awaiting partner and the book he held in his hands, Lu Guang nodded once. “Okay.”

Notes:

I wasn't going to have cxs call lg a grandpa, but I later went to look up a watch similar to LG's for a cosplay and immediately decided to keep it in. The best watch I found is literally a smartwatch specifically made for old people and it looks identical to LG's. All the more proof that LG is in fact an old man (mentally)

Chapter 9: Rules

Notes:

Huge thank you to Yuzuuu4 for allowing me to put their art in this chapter! You can find them on their official Tumblr and their art Tumblr. Thanks for making such great art!

Talk

 

Content Warnings (Spoiler)

~Fairly long retelling of a somewhat famous Greek story (with a different ending)
~Slightly philosophical discussion about death
~Metaphors of clipping someone’s wings (which turn out to be false)
~Stabbing
~Blood

Once upon a time, a long, long time ago, there lived a talented musician named Orpheus. His skill at playing the lyre was so great, it was said that even the gods were jealous. All who heard him were transfixed, be they person or beast, as music flowed from his fingertips like water.

While people fell in love with Orpheus left and right, Orpheus himself was devoted to only one person. She was a magnificent woman who went by the name Eurydice, with flowing hair the color of a raven’s wing and eyes that looked like warm honey. She loved him in turn, and they were soon wed.

On their first morning of married life, Eurydice awoke earlier than Orpheus and snuck out to the nearby field, making sure to not disturb her new husband. She wished to pick a bouquet of fresh flowers to present to him.

As she walked through the grass, humming softly to herself, Eurydice felt a sudden pain in her ankle. You see, the grass had been so tall that it had obscured a viper, coiled in wait. As soon as its fangs pierced the soft, tender skin, its venom began coursing through her veins.

With a dwindling cry, she fell to the ground, losing her grip on the flowers she had intended as a gift for her husband.

The same man who, upon searching for his wife, found her body, cold and lifeless.

Immediately following the funeral, where everyone expected Orpheus to retreat into his home and seclude himself in mourning, he instead picked up his lyre and set off.

Some commented that he was leaving to die alone. Others said that he was already off to find himself a new bride.

None of them were right.

For Orpheus embarked on his great journey, traveling over land and sea, to find a very specific cave. And when he found it, he fell to his knees in relief.

Just past the entrance of the cave, the light from the setting sun seemed to disappear, swallowed up by the shadows inside, even though the interior should have been illuminated.

A stale scent wafted from it, and even just a whiff turned Orpheus’ stomach. Even so, he rose to his feet, steeled his heart, and entered the cave.

As the meager light from his lantern lit up the floor beneath his feet, Orpheus could barely see where he was going. His little lantern hardly did any good.

But he pressed on, losing track of how many times he lost his footing on the uneven and winding path, until he finally emerged in a great cavern. An oily, black river stretched as far as the eye could see, and Orpheus knew that he had finally arrived. Even though he couldn’t see it, he knew that the far bank was the beginning of the land of the dead, where his wife was waiting for him.

The waves lapped at his feet, attempting to reach him, but he stepped back. He had to be cautious around the River Styx. One touch of the liquid and all his memories would unravel like a spool of thread, soul forever trapped between the realms of the living and the dead.

Taking out his lyre, Orpheus began playing a sweet, yet mournful song, hoping to reassure the soul of Eurydice on the other side of the Styx that he would soon find her.

In a stroke of luck, his music reached the ears of the ferryman. All through the eons, departed souls of all kinds had attempted to reason, bribe, and even seduce him, but he never felt so moved as he did when he heard Orpheus’ music. Feeling compassionate, he steered his boat toward the sound. The musician stepped aboard, never missing a note.

He continued playing the entire time the boat crossed the river, the liquid inside burbling as it seemed to tap at the ancient wood. It was too viscous to be water, but Orpheus dared not dwell on what it could be.

Finally on the other side of the Styx, he continued onward. His fingers never faltered in playing, even as shades and wraiths circled around him. His music moved them as well; instead of flaying his skin and shredding the flesh off his bones, the ghouls allowed him to pass and even followed him, enchanted.

Before too long, a palace loomed out of the shadows, somehow an even blacker black than the rest of the Underworld. As Orpheus approached, the ghosts and monsters fell back, not daring the venture any closer.

The gates opened before him, and Orpheus stepped inside, not stopping until he reached the throne room, standing before two royal seats.

On one sat a monstrous figure wreathed in shadow with only his face visible, eyes as deep and sunken as open graves. Beside him, on her own throne, rested a beautiful woman. She was bathed in silver, seeming like the full moon in an otherwise-dark sky, her very presence a soothing relief.

“Lord Hades. Lady Persephone.” Orpheus bowed low, never ceasing his music. He straightened up, steeling his nerves once more, and then began to sing.

“We mortals are wretched things, and the gods who know nothing of loss have woven sorrow into the pattern of our lives. Even the common sparrow, even the wren knows more of sorrow than the thundering gods, who have never felt her cold hand of death closing around their hearts. But you, you mighty gods, you have known the sweet pains of love. Great Hades, imagine those summer months, when Persephone is gone, lasting forever. Imagine, if you can, her beautiful face crumbling to dust, never to see her again. Never again to bask in her presence. That is how it is for mortal man. Great Hades, I implore you, please do not let me feel this pain anymore. I have journeyed here to beg for your mercy. Please, restore my beloved Eurydice.”

Orpheus raised his eyes to the god and goddess again as he finally ceased playing. Persephone’s face was awash in tears, each one looking like a sparkling star, as she looked at her husband. Hades met her gaze with his own, and Orpheus watched it soften ever so slightly. A single tear, as black and oily as the Styx, fell from his eye.

Raising his hand, Hades called for the three Fates. “Mend the thread of Eurydice.” His tone offered no room for questions. Then he turned to Orpheus. “Leave this place,” he commanded him. “Leave and do not look back. If you can do this and return to the world of life and light, your Eurydice will be restored to you. If not…” he did not continue, but Orpheus did not want to press him for details.

Instead, he set off the way he had come, this time with the nearly-imperceptible sound of footsteps behind him. When he boarded the ferry, he felt it tremble slightly, as if someone had climbed in behind him.

Still, Orpheus dared not look. He kept his gaze fixed on the far shore, not even turning to thank the ferryman.

Up and up and up he trekked, following twists and turns by the dim light of his lantern, focused entirely on what was in front of him rather than what was behind him. He could hear the footsteps more clearly now, following closely behind him as together they made their way to the mouth of the cave.

The sunlight called to Orpheus and he almost broke out into a run when a sound reached his ear. It was the sound of a foot catching on a stone, of a faint cry of surprise as its owner began to fall. He heard Eurydice stumble and, without thinking, he turned to catch her in his arms, only desiring her safety.

For a single moment, he saw her face, their eyes meeting before his arms closed around empty air and she was gone.

Back in the realm of the dead, the third Fate cut the thread of Eurydice’s life for the second time.

It was this story that Lu Guang told to Cheng Xiaoshi. “I’ll ask you,” he concluded, “what do you think Orpheus should have done when his wife died?”

Cheng Xiaoshi was silent as he thought it over. Finally, he said, “I don’t know.”

Lu Guang leaned his head back, allowing his eyes to close. “Some consider his decision a choiceless hope made in grief that drove him to the Underworld. Others say it was a fool’s errand from the start.”

“Why do they say that?”

That prompted Lu Guang to sit back up, fixing Cheng Xiaoshi with a stern gaze. “For the same reason why death cannot be changed.” He sighed and let his eyes drop, avoiding the death stare of the ghost just past Cheng Xiaoshi’s shoulder. “Death isn’t something any one of us can change. The best we can do…” the words sounded hollow and tasted sour on his tongue, but he forced them out anyway, “…is accept it.”

Cheng Xiaoshi was quiet for a second. Then… “You sound like you have some experience with that. Is that why you said you related to the story?”

“I said that?” Lu Guang tilted his head. “Are you sure I didn’t just say I liked it?”

It broke his heart lying to Cheng Xiaoshi, watching his confusion before he chalked it up to his own imagination. But he couldn’t let him find out how the memory of his own corpse was haunting Lu Guang.

How odd it was to be haunted by someone who was still alive.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The fateful question came on the same day it had before.

It was raining, a heavy downpour that relentlessly tapped against the roof of the studio and made ripples down the window.

Cheng Xiaoshi came out of the darkroom, fiddling with his fingers as he approached the couch. “Hey, uh, Lu Guang?” His gaze darted every which way except for towards the person he was addressing. “Can I ask you something?”

Right on time. “What is it?”

“I was wondering… do you believe in superpowers.?”

Lu Guang pretended to be confused. “Superpowers?”

At that, Cheng Xiaoshi laughed weakly. “Yeah, Y’know… telepathy, invisibility…” he paused. “Time travel…” There was another pause before he began talking again, clearly trying to backtrack. “Sounds crazy, right? As if-!”

“I do,” Lu Guang interrupted him. Their gazes met, and Lu Guang hated seeing the uncertainty dwelling within Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes.

Breathing deeply, Lu Guang came clean about his powers, making sure to skirt around the how and when his powers awoke in him.

In turn, Cheng Xiaoshi shared as well, even going so far as to demonstrate it on a picture Lu Guang had taken the day before.

“He never changes,” Lu Guang took the opportunity to mumble to himself in the now-empty room.

Cheng Xiaoshi appeared back in reality with a wide grin on his face. He pointed to the book in Lu Guang’s hands. “Now, watch with amazement! I have never held this book before! And yet, how would I know that page 103 begins with the word ‘reckless’?” His bravado and showmanship only mounted higher and higher as he proved over and over again how much he’d learned from his dive into the day prior.

It was only then that something occurred to Lu Guang. In their original timeline, Cheng Xiaoshi dove back in time alone, fulfilling requests by himself.

But if Lu Guang was changing the timeline, he needed to make sure that nothing else altered it. Especially Cheng Xiaoshi.

He couldn’t have variables out of his reach potentially destroying what he was working so hard to fix.

“What if we clapped our hands?” The words were out of his mouth before he realized what he was saying.

The stream of excitement faltered slightly as Cheng Xiaoshi paused, thinking. “Uhhh, I dunno. I’ve never tried it with someone else before.”

“Can we try?”

Cheng Xiaoshi shrugged and retrieved a photograph that had finished drying in the darkroom. Once he handed it to Lu Guang, he crossed his arms. “What good will clapping our hands do?”

Instead of answering him, Lu Guang activated his power, looking through the photograph and into the twelve hours following its moment in time. Scenes flashed before his eyes, all of them mundane.

Perfect.

Blinking, he gave the photograph back to Cheng Xiaoshi. He kept his hand outstretched, palm waiting.

“If you’re sure about this,” Cheng Xiaoshi muttered. Then, casting one more glance at the picture, he slapped Lu Guang’s palm and disappeared.

“…Lu Guang?”

He sighed, relieved as he heard Cheng Xiaoshi’s voice in his head. “I’m here.”

That’s so weird! came Cheng Xiaoshi’s voice again, this time slightly more echoed.

“I agree.”

“Wait, you heard that? I only thought it!”

A thoughtful frown crossed Lu Guang’s face. “It looks like, if we combine our powers, we can use some form of telepathy.” That’ll be useful for future dives and clients, he found himself thinking, then immediately cursed himself for letting his knowledge of the future slip out.

But Cheng Xiaoshi didn’t give any indication that he’d heard it. Maybe the telepathy only worked one way? Cheng Xiaoshi? Lu Guang thought at him, testing his theory out.

No answer came.

Lu Guang breathed a sigh of relief as he realized that his secrets about the future were safe. “Alright, come back.”

He did, a wide grin stretching across his face. “Lu Guang, this is incredible! Imagine how much we can help people!”

‘Here it comes,’ whispered the ghost of Cheng Xiaoshi that sat next to him on the couch. He crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back. His jacket opened a bit more at the movement, revealing a perpetually-bloodstained t-shirt underneath. ‘You know you have to tamper his dreams, cut his wings a little. And, what a shame, just when he started to fly, too.’

“Just imagine it: together, we can go back and stop tragedies from occurring!”

I know, Lu Guang thought back to the ghost. I don’t want to, but I can’t have him changing things. “We can’t.”

Cheng Xiaoshi’s face fell into a confused frown as his excitement dwindled. “What do you mean?”

Lu Guang’s gut twisted. “I mean, the past can’t be changed, so trying to is just pointless in the end. Even if you could change things, who’s to say they’d be better? Having such power isn’t necessarily a good thing.”

“But think of everything we can do together!”

“Cheng Xiaoshi… When I look into the past using a photo, there are pillars of light that stand out in the timeline. These are important nodes, and the timeline is full of them. If an important node is altered, everything after that is changed, rewritten. Reality as we know it in the present will be gone.” He stared straight into Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes, ignoring how he suddenly looked fearful. “Will you be able to do it? Will you be able to enforce these important nodes, no matter how awful they may be?”

Cheng Xiaoshi gulped audibly. “How ‘awful’ are we talking, exactly?” he asked, trying to channel the same bravado from before.

Now, it just felt forced.

Lu Guang sighed and steepled his fingers, resting his elbows against his knees. “Death, for one. Death nodes shine the brightest. They are the most unchangeable nodes. If you get the chance to save someone’s life who should die, will you allow them to die?”

Something deep inside Lu Guang withered under his own stern tone, hating that he had to talk this way to Cheng Xiaoshi. But there was no other way to enforce the timeline.

“H-how can I make sure I don’t change a node?”

“I will make rules for you to follow, and I will be with you during every dive, telling you what to do.” Lu Guang stood up and walked forward until he stood in front of Cheng Xiaoshi. “With me guiding you, we can preserve the timeline and help people.”

Cheng Xiaoshi frowned. “What are the rules?”

Lu Guang inhaled slowly and deeply. He closed his eyes, unwilling to see the clipped wings of his companion’s enthusiasm. He raised a finger. “One: You must stay for only twelve hours.” So I can watch you, and so you won’t lose yourself living infinitely in the past, like I have. “My power can’t see anything past twelve hours, so that is your limit.

“Two: You must listen to me. Follow my lead and change nothing. Do exactly as I tell you.” So you can blame me if things go wrong instead of yourself.

“Three: You cannot change the past-” So please, don’t try to. If you do, it will suffocate you. “-and you cannot ask about the future.” You don’t need to know what your actions have wrought. Let me bear these burdens for you. “Past or future, let them remain untouched.”

There was silence as Lu Guang finished explaining the rules, counting them off on three fingers. Then: “Geez, Guang-Guang, how did you just come up with that on the spot?”

Lu Guang finally opened his eyes, relieved to find an easygoing smile across Cheng Xiaoshi’s face. “Not to worry Lu Guang! Together, we can help people and make sure the timeline doesn’t change!”

Oh. Lu Guang was wrong.

Cheng Xiaoshi’s wings weren’t clipped. They were merely preened, realigned to allow him to fly easier and faster.

He wasn’t limiting his power or his boundless enthusiasm to help others. He was simply harnessing them, honing them.

Everything was working out better than he could have ever imagined it.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Eventually, a memory reared its ugly head.

And Lu Guang decided that maybe it was time to create a new node before they arrived at the inevitable one.

“I’m going to visit my family.”

Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes grew wide. “You’ve never mentioned your family before. Did something happen?”

Lu Guang purposefully looked down at the floor, kicking at it with a foot. “It’s been too long since I’ve visited. We don’t talk often, but… I feel I should be doing more.”

He decidedly did not mention that he hadn’t seen his family in over a decade.

No, this trip was not for Lu Guang’s family.

“Can I come with you?”

He resisted the instinct to flinch. No! he wanted to scream. You need to stay here, where you’re safe. Traveling unexpectedly was a variable that Lu Guang was not prepared to deal with. “No, I should be fine on my own. Plus, you need to watch the store.” There will be three orders during my time away, and no clients. I timed this out perfectly. You will be able to stay occupied and out of trouble.

This is something I need to do alone.

“Uhhh, Lu Guang? Your face got… kinda scary all of a sudden.” Cheng Xiaoshi paused before continuing, tone slightly more delicate. “Is your family that much of a pain to deal with?”

Lu Guang blinked, then massaged the bridge of his nose. “No, I’ve just got a headache. It’s nothing.”

He smiled inwardly as Cheng Xiaoshi began fussing over him, making him tea and finding some pain relievers.

He could always rely on Cheng Xiaoshi to care, even if Lu Guang forgot how to.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“This is the place,” the taxi driver announced as he pulled up to a small, unassuming house.

Lu Guang pulled the hood up over his head. He was grateful that it was sprinkling out, so he had an excuse to hide his face. “Thank you. Will you please wait for me?” he asked in English.

The taxi driver grinned and waved the wad of cash Lu Guang had given him when they’d met. “Son, for this much, I’ll do anythin’ for ya!”

It had been almost the entirety of Lu Guang’s savings, but it was well worth it. He nodded to the driver and exited the car, facing the front door.

It rested at the top of a small flight of stairs, with an iron fence on both sides. The door itself was blue and, while there was no nameplate, it was flanked by two lights. There were no curtains or blinds on the surrounding windows, so he took careful consideration to keep his face averted from any prying eyes.

Walking up the steps felt like walking to the gallows. Lu Guang felt his composure slipping the closer he got to the door. The pockets of his black hoodie felt heavy, weighing him down until he felt like he could sink into the concrete below his feet.

Finally, he raised his hand and knocked firmly.

He could hear shuffling from inside, then the door opened. “Yes? What is it?” Liu Xiao said in English.

Lu Guang had no words, no voice that would respond to him upon hearing Liu Xiao. Instead, he raised his hood just enough for Liu Xiao to catch a glimpse of his face.

“Ah, please come inside,” he said with mock sweetness.

The inside of the house was just as plain as the outside, with hardly any indication that Liu Xiao resided inside. Lu Guang followed him silently, hands buried in his pockets to try to hide how they trembled.

“This is a surprise,” Liu Xiao said cheerfully, finally turning around to face Lu Guang once they reached the living room. “I never would have expected you’d find me here, so far from home.” He paused, and a fearsome expression crossed his face. “Did you forget what I said would happen if you ever came looking for me?”

He shivered as Liu Xiao approached. He kept his eyes trained downwards, even as he felt cold flesh trace his cheek. “Even so,” Liu Xiao whispered. “I missed you.” He took one more step forward.

Lu Guang clenched his eyes shut. His fingers tightened around the handle in his pocket.

All it took was one move of his hand. There was a squelch, and then the all-too-familiar feeling of warm, sticky blood on his hands.

Opening his eyes, Lu Guang came face-to-face with Liu Xiao. His face was as unreadable as ever, but he slumped to the floor, all but sliding off of the knife that Lu Guang still held. Blood gushed out of the wound, an awful reminder of how Cheng Xiaoshi had died.

This time, he didn’t kneel, didn’t even try to staunch the flow of blood.

Instead, he looked on at Liu Xiao, eyes barely visible from under his hood. Unable to look at him any more - even while he was dying at his feet - Lu Guang turned away only to freeze in place as he heard from behind him: “Lu Guang!”

One step. Just take one step. He lifted his foot and put it in front of him, one step farther away from the bloody body. Good. Now another. The knife disappeared back inside his hoodie pocket just before he reached the door.

Running through a checklist in his mind, he used his sleeve to open the door, careful not to leave any trace of his presence.

He didn’t miss anything.

Lu Guang allowed a small, relieved smile to cross his face as he returned to the taxi, requesting him to take him to the airport.

With this, Cheng Xiaoshi was safe. It didn’t matter that he had just taken a life or broken his own rules.

Lu Guang would soak his hands in unfathomable amounts of blood as long as it ensured Cheng Xiaoshi stayed alive.

Back inside the house, as Liu Xiao lay dying, the corners of his lips curled upwards. He took his last breath as a thin smile spread across his face.

Notes:

This was probably one of my favorite chapters to write in this entire story. I hope you all liked it too.

And HOLY CRAP, this story finally got over a thousand hits! Thank you all so much for reading this and sticking with it for so long.

Chapter 10: Consequence

Notes:

Huge thank you to Lucrecia for allowing me to put her art in this chapter! You can find her on her official Tumblr and her art Tumblr. Thanks for making such great art!

Consequence

 

Content Warnings (Spoiler)

~Cheng Xiaoshi POV
~Secrecy/Lies
~Caught
~Betrayal
~Punishment
~Death/Wishing for death
~091305

Months passed, and Lu Guang blissfully forgot about Liu Xiao. Instead, he felt he was able to relax marginally in this second chance, enjoying domestic bliss with Cheng Xiaoshi who was none the wiser.

The air became warmer, and, the more time passed, it became easier and easier to relax and enjoy their time together.

They began (or, restarted, in Lu Guang’s case) their jobs, taking and developing photos while also helping clients through dives. Lu Guang helped Cheng Xiaoshi every step of the way, guiding him whenever he stepped into the past.

Things were turning out better than they had in the first timeline.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

There was something bothering Cheng Xiaoshi, a little itch in his brain that continuously bothered him even now, years later.

The first time he’d met Lu Guang, he’d been immediately captivated by his energy and enthusiasm. They’d just… clicked.

But the day after Lu Guang first slept over, he could tell that something had changed.

(Well, other than Lu Guang’s hair color, but that was beside the point.)

His entire demeanor seemed to have shifted to something more muted and reserved. Cheng Xiaoshi initially believed that he was just having an off day, but then one day became two, then a month, then more.

It got to the point where Cheng Xiaoshi was second-guessing himself, thinking that maybe he’d just imagined Lu Guang’s initial energy and enthusiasm.

It wasn’t until Cheng Xiaoshi began cleaning around the studio that he finally realized the truth.

Lu Guang had left to buy groceries, requesting that Cheng Xiaoshi tidy up their home while he was gone. He had groused outwardly about it, but was surprisingly able to clean everything fairly quickly.

Seeing as how Lu Guang wasn’t home yet, Cheng Xiaoshi migrated upstairs to begin cleaning their bedroom as well, in the hopes that he could persuade Lu Guang to get milk tea with him if he went above and beyond what was asked of him.

He tidied the desk by the window.

He dusted the shelves.

He made both of their beds.

Or, rather, he tried to.

When he climbed up onto the upper bunk and removed Lu Guang’s pillow, he stopped, staring quizzically down at the small pile of photographs that had been hiding underneath.

What are these doing here? Cheng Xiaoshi wondered as he scooped them up and descended the ladder, sitting on the edge of his own bed as he leafed through them. Most of the pictures were mundane, with a few of their bedroom and one of himself.

But the last few pictures made him gasp audibly.

In the first one sat a younger Lu Guang, his hair black and his smile wistful as he relaxed in the waning sunlight, seemingly unaware of the picture. In the photographs that followed, his smile was wider as he posed deliberately for the camera.

He looked so different, so carefree, so unlike the Lu Guang he knew that Cheng Xiaoshi couldn’t help but stare.

He hadn’t dived into a photograph by himself in a long time, but…

I got time, he thought to himself as he glanced at the clock. Lu Guang won’t be home for a while. I’m only going to check it out for a moment.

He clapped.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Lu Guang groaned as he approached the front door. He didn’t want to drop anything, so he lightly kicked at the door to try to get Cheng Xiaoshi’s attention.

But there was no sound or movement from inside.

That was slightly worrying, but it wasn’t anything that hadn’t happened before. Cheng Xiaoshi was probably just playing his game or taking a nap. Lu Guang was able to balance his bags in one hand as he fished for his keys with the other, unlocking the door and stumbling inside.

“Cheng Xiaoshi?” he called, setting the groceries down on the counter before venturing further into the sunroom. There was no sign of his partner, so maybe he was upstairs? Lu Guang began climbing the steps, pushing the door open with Cheng Xiaoshi’s name on his lips.

His voice died in his throat as he not only realized that the bedroom was empty as well, but that a stack of photographs had been strewn across the floor and lower bunk.

His photographs.

Lu Guang could feel his blood running cold, feeling like ice in his veins as he realized what had happened. He paced in the empty room, biting at his nails as he worried about Cheng Xiaoshi changing the timeline and damning himself even more than he already was.

It didn’t take long for the familiar thump to fill the silence.

Turning around, Lu Guang watched as Cheng Xiaoshi stood. Their eyes met, and Lu Guang couldn’t help but feel there was a layer of suspicion in Cheng Xiaoshi’s gaze that hadn’t been there before.

“What have you done?” the words rasped out of Lu Guang’s throat, sounding hollow.

“I went back,” Cheng Xiaoshi said in a low voice. He took a step forward. “I went back to see who you were back then. I’d almost forgotten what you were like when we first met, but…” he inhaled deeply, seeming to gather his thoughts. “But now you’re unrecognizable. You don’t just look different; it’s like you’re a completely different person.”

This was Lu Guang’s worst nightmare. He couldn’t bear to see the distrust and betrayal in Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes, twisting his face until there was no trace of the easygoing smile he’d seen only that morning.

When Cheng Xiaoshi spoke again, it was quiet, but Lu Guang almost wished he’d yelled it: “What happened to you?”

And Lu Guang had no words, he had no answer to give. All he could do was look away from the ghost that stared at him and squeeze his eyes shut. He could feel Cheng Xiaoshi’s hands shaking where they gripped his shoulders, sure that he would develop bruises there even through his shirt.

They stood there, the silence suffocating them until, finally, Lu Guang extricated himself from Cheng Xiaoshi’s grasp. “I… I need some space.”

As he left their bedroom and descended the stairs, he could feel Cheng Xiaoshi’s gaze following him, burning him.

Even after he exited the studio and began walking aimlessly, he could feel the memory of that stare.

He cursed himself for not having the foresight to lock away his precious photographs.

He hated how Cheng Xiaoshi had forced his hand, had made him bare his own wounds to be salted. He felt vulnerable, torn open, with his deepest secret brought into the light without any warning.

It wasn’t until Lu Guang reached the bridge that he finally stopped. He leaned against the railing, watching the sunset and feeling the breeze in his hair.

This wasn’t the end of the world, he reminded himself. This was still salvageable. He could still fix this.

There was a chill in the air as the sun disappeared below the horizon.

Lu Guang shivered, letting out a single sneeze.

I should probably start heading back before Cheng Xiaoshi gets too anxious, he thought as he turned back.

The sky had grown dark by the time Lu Guang returned to the studio. He reached for the handle but frowned when he found it locked.

Was Cheng Xiaoshi really that upset with me? He winced as the thought slid into his mind accompanied by the memory of his expression.

Lu Guang’s keys were still on the counter inside next to their groceries, so he knocked on the door, hoping that Cheng Xiaoshi would be willing to let him in.

There was a shuffling from inside, then the click of the lock sliding open. Lu Guang couldn’t wait any longer; he grabbed the handle and opened it, rushing inside. “Cheng Xiaoshi, I’m sorry,” his words fell from his mouth in a torrent before he even registered his surroundings.

Before he registered Cheng Xiaoshi’s expression.

“How lovely of you to join us,” a mellifluous voice came from behind him, startling Lu Guang. He turned around.

A man stood before him with a too-large smile on his face. He was dressed strangely, wearing a tight white shirt, black undershirt, and a long, flowing coat around his shoulders. His hair was striking, bright red even in the dim light and long enough to make into a black-tipped braid.

The gun in his hand glinted in the moonlight.

Lu Guang felt himself trying to back away before the man’s other hand rocketed out and gripped his shoulder. “Oh no,” he chuckled. “Come closer. Let’s have a chat.”

The next thing he knew, he was thrown to the floor facedown, the man’s laughter ringing in his ears from above him. He tried to gather his hands under himself, to stand back up, but the man’s foot drilled down hard on him like a blade in his spine.

He could see Cheng Xiaoshi out of the corner of his eye, could see his broken and bitter expression: not quite hatred, but something similar.

It terrified him.

Lu Guang’s view was obscured by something bright that made him wince and squint. When he was able to focus on it, his stomach lurched.

On the phone screen of the man above him, he saw Liu Xiao in his apartment. The camera was positioned above the doorway, angled to get the best shot of the entire living room. There was a knock in the distance, prompting Liu Xiao to stand and leave the view of the camera.

A moment later, he returned, with a familiar figure in tow. Lu Guang watched his past self plunge the knife into Liu Xiao’s body, watched how he ducked back out of view.

Watched as Liu Xiao heaved himself up until he was half-sitting, fixing his attacker with a look that sent shivers down his spine. “Lu Guang!” his voice came through the phone speakers clearly, if a bit tinny.

Finally, he watched as Liu Xiao slumped back to the floor. His eyes flicked up towards the camera, a thin smile playing across his face.

It was as if killing Liu Xiao had made Lu Guang lose track of the full picture, making him complacent and shallow. Everything burst into clarity in a single, awful moment.

He’d caused this.

The Butterfly Effect.

“I was just showing this footage to your friend,” the man hummed, as if he was pretending to be nonchalant. Then his voice took on a mock pouting tone, “I don’t think he liked it, though.”

“Big surprise,” Cheng Xiaoshi huffed. His voice was anguished, despair bleeding into every word as he continued, “Lu Guang, why?”

The man leaned down until he was right next to Lu Guang’s ear. “Yes, Lu Guang,” he hissed. “Tell us why.”

Lu Guang could only tremble, scalding tears burning his cheeks. The man stomped on his back again, earning a choked shout that he seemed to savor like one would wine. “I…” he managed to gasp. “I did it… for him…”

“For him?” the man pointed at Cheng Xiaoshi, who looked completely lost. “You killed Xavier for him?”

And Lu Guang could only nod, feeling truly defeated.

The man regarded Cheng Xiaoshi for a moment. Then finally, when the tension between them was almost too thick for breath, he spoke again, “Your friend here is willing to kill for you.” He raised his gun, aiming directly for Cheng Xiaoshi. “Are you willing to die for him?”

The world slowed down around Lu Guang as he writhed desperately beneath the man’s foot. He might’ve screamed in rage, but he couldn’t tell.

All he could think about was how it wasn’t time yet. He was still supposed to have another year with Cheng Xiaoshi.

Was this his consequence for changing the past?

“KILL ME INSTEAD!” he found himself yelling. “PLEASE!” Lu Guang couldn’t help sobbing, only regretting that his tears made it impossible to see Cheng Xiaoshi clearly. “Please, kill me and spare him. He’s done nothing wrong!”

There was silence from above him.

Then:

“It’s true that he’s done nothing wrong… but you still have to be punished.”

With that, the crack! of the revolver filled Lu Guang’s ears, and he went very still. His sobs turned to shuddering breaths as he watched Cheng Xiaoshi look down at himself as if in slow motion. His hand instinctively raised to clutch at his chest, at the gaping wound that shouldn’t be there.

And then he was falling to the floor, face turned towards Lu Guang.

Their eyes met.

Cheng Xiaoshi’s were glowing.

Lu Guang reached as far as he could, fingers straining. He saw Cheng Xiaoshi struggle to do the same as he reached for his outstretched hand.

Just before they were about to reach each other, the gold drained from Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes. His hand fell limp, just short of reaching Lu Guang’s.

The man must have stepped off of him, because the next thing Lu Guang knew, he was kneeling beside Cheng Xiaoshi, one hand cradling his head while the other clutched at his motionless chest.

Everything broke in a great tearing sob until Lu Guang was wailing above the body of Cheng Xiaoshi, now dead for the second time.

“Always remember,” the man thrust his face into Lu Guang’s. There was a fire in his eyes; it burned and Lu Guang gagged on its smoke mixing with the sickly-sweet stench of blood. “You brought this on yourself.”

Lu Guang couldn’t help wishing that the man would raise his gun, would shoot him as well. “Please, kill me,” he pleaded. “There’s nothing left.”

But the man stood back up, staring down at Lu Guang with something similar to contempt. “Pathetic.” He turned away, walking towards the door, but paused, one hand on the frame as he looked over his shoulder. “I’m leaving you alive so you can suffer the blame for your friend’s death.”

Lu Guang wasn’t sure how much time passed after the man left, but the sun was about to rise when he finally stood. His face felt tight and sticky with the remnants of tears, eyes sore as he gazed sadly upon the body of Cheng Xiaoshi.

All he could think about was how much earlier in the timeline he’d died this time around. It was the same day, but an entire year earlier. He shouldn’t have died at all, but now it was so much worse.

Because this time, it was entirely Lu Guang’s fault.

’You can try again,’ a voice beckoned him from upstairs and, too tired to fight it, Lu Guang ascended the steps. He found the bedroom exactly how he’d left it, with his precious photographs strewn across the floor and lower bunk.

Sifting through them, he pulled out a picture of their bedroom and set it on the desk before him.

He did his best to not look at the pair of bloody ghosts that followed in his wake.

He clapped and fell back in time.

His body still burned with phantom pains from a fight far in the future (or never, if Lu Guang had a say about it), but he composed himself before heading downstairs to take a picture of a living corpse.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A month after Lu Guang officially moved in with the third Cheng Xiaoshi, he left the studio one day, coming back with a safe that he planted in the corner of their bedroom.

He waved away Cheng Xiaoshi’s innocent questions with vague deflections, setting his precious photographs inside to be locked away.

No longer would he be able to reach under his pillow after a particularly bad day, looking through them and reminiscing about happier times. But it was a slight comfort to know that Cheng Xiaoshi couldn’t find them again.

Not without knowing the date of his death.

The numbers stared back at Lu Guang as he programmed the lock.

091305.

Notes:

Heyyy, y’all remember that passage in Chapter 1? Y’know, this one:

“Don’t… move…”

Briefly, Lu Guang considered that Cheng Xiaoshi had found an enormous insect on him, but the click of a camera shutter replaced his theory with a more-accurate one. “Why are you photographing me?”

Cheng Xiaoshi chuckled, but this sounded different from his carefree laughs from earlier. “Because it’s the golden hour. A photographer’s favorite time of day. It’s the time when the evening light shines through the window, making everything appear soft and warm.” His expression was tender as he regarded Lu Guang, the light from the setting sun making his eyes appear to be the color of honey. “The light is perfect now and…” he hesitated, but raised the camera up to his eyes again. “…and your skin is like a painting.”

That struck Lu Guang speechless. He’d come to know Cheng Xiaoshi throughout the games they’d played on the court, but he’d never heard Cheng Xiaoshi wax poetic like this before. He truly is a photographer at heart, Lu Guang thought.

The energy and excitement that came from him whenever they played basketball was nothing compared to the passion his words conveyed now.

He froze, staying still and only moving where and when Cheng Xiaoshi directed him. Finally, when the sun had completely set, Cheng Xiaoshi set the camera down. He shuffled his feet and his eyes darted everywhere but at Lu Guang. “I’m sorry. I can just get ahead of myself.” He pressed his hands together, face scrunched up in apology.

No reason why I brought it up. I just think it’s funny how it mentions his eyes looking a different color and them him pressing his hands together. No big deal

Chapter 11: My Immortal

Notes:

Huge thank you to Wrathyforest for allowing me to put their art in this chapter! You can find their Tumblr here. Thanks for making such great art!

My Immortal

 

Content Warnings (Spoiler)

~Details of Cheng Xiaoshi’s powers awakening and his first dive (non-canon)
~A marathon of Cheng Xiaoshi dying (all fairly non-graphic)
~Lu Guang being a huge sap
~Stabbing

Lu Guang knew the story by now. He’d heard Cheng Xiaoshi talk about it in two timelines before this one.

There was an envelope hidden in their bedroom with Cheng Xiaoshi’s mother’s name on it. Inside rested a photograph of the three of them, Cheng Xiaoshi barely taller than his parents’ knees.

No one knew why she’d left it there. Only that finding it awakened Cheng Xiaoshi’s powers.

When he’d found it, Cheng Xiaoshi said it felt like he had been electrified, a jolt running through his fingers upon touching it. Then, he’d set it on his bed, knelt on the floor in front of it, and prayed.

He didn’t pray often, but looking at how happy the three of them had been back then… a gaping hole reopened in his chest, sorrow seeping out. It didn’t matter that they’d been gone for years at that point; Cheng Xiaoshi still pressed his hands together to pray for them to return.

In doing so, he’d dived for the first time, possessing his own mother. In a blink, he woke up in the past, turning and staring at someone who he hadn’t seen in years.

Before he could speak, he felt something tugging at his (her?) pant leg and looked down.

The child before him was incredibly small, still with baby fat in his cheeks. He rubbed at his eyes with a closed fist and yawned. ‘Mama,’ he’d said, ‘I’m tired.’

Cheng Xiaoshi had been in awe of the tiny form that wore his own face. Feeling instincts well up inside him he didn’t recognize - Lu Guang would’ve called it his mother’s ’maternal instinct,’ if he thought she had one - he’d clasped his (her?) hands, mouth opening to say something.

And he’d returned to the present.

It was a story Lu Guang had gone over and over in his mind, knowing that he needed to time everything out perfectly.

He had to catch Cheng Xiaoshi in the moments between finding the photograph and diving into it.

Because, no matter what, Cheng Xiaoshi could not realize that he could dive by himself.

On the day he was supposed to find the photograph, Lu Guang instructed Cheng Xiaoshi to clean the bedroom while he cleaned downstairs, like he’d done with both previous timelines.

However, instead of beginning to sweep and dust the foyer, Lu Guang stood outside their bedroom, eyes trained on his watch.

He listened as Cheng Xiaoshi grumbled under his breath but began to tidy up. The stairs of the stepladder creaked as he ascended them and began rummaging through his old clothes.

There was silence. And then… “What’s this?”

5:21 pm. Find the photo.

There was the faint sound of sliding paper, then a gasp. “What the…?”

That was when Lu Guang moved. He opened the door, “Cheng Xiaoshi?” on his lips.

The young man before him jumped, jamming the photograph into his pocket. “Aiya! You scared me, Lu Guang! What is it?”

“Sorry,” he reflexively said, but steeled his nerves. He held a hand out. “Give it to me.”

He was met with a confused and wary stare. “Uhhh, what?”

“I’ll explain everything if you just give me the photograph in your pocket.”

“How did you…? Fine, whatever,” Cheng Xiaoshi frowned as he handed it to Lu Guang. “Now, can you please tell me what this is all about?”

Lu Guang closed his eyes and gave a relieved sigh. “I have something important to ask you.” He directed Cheng Xiaoshi over to the bottom bunk, resisting the urge to wave the observing ghosts out of his way as he followed and sat beside him. He looked straight into Cheng Xiaoshi’s cautious gaze.

“Do you believe in superpowers?”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Where’re we going?” Cheng Xiaoshi asked, years later.

Lu Guang grimaced as he finished packing his bag. “We’re taking a weekend vacation.”

It was early in the day on September 13th, the day that Cheng Xiaoshi had first died. It was a Friday, making the ‘weekend vacation’ excuse the best way to get Cheng Xiaoshi out of the studio before Liu Xiao made his appearance.

If he could keep Cheng Xiaoshi alive longer than his death node decreed, even if by a day, Lu Guang would count it as progress.

“But where are we going?” Cheng Xiaoshi insisted, looking on dumbfounded as Lu Guang carried their bags to the front door. He’d already packed for both of them in his haste to set off, leaving barely anything for Cheng Xiaoshi to do.

He almost bit back, ‘we’re going somewhere safe so I can keep you alive.’ Instead, he said, “It’s a secret.”

Cheng Xiaoshi stuck his tongue out at him, but dutifully grabbed his bag and followed Lu Guang out the door. He blinked at the taxi waiting for them. “Wha-?”

“I called ahead,” Lu Guang explained as he walked straight for the car and hauled his bag inside. He tried not to let it show on his face how quickly he wanted to leave.

Unfortunately, as often as he groused and said otherwise, Cheng Xiaoshi was not an idiot.

“What’s the rush?”

He was annoyingly perceptive at times.

“I’m… just trying to hurry up so we don’t miss our flight.”

Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyebrows flew up. “Oho! A flight, huh?” He smirked as he followed suit, pestering Lu Guang with questions the whole way up until they reached the airport and began walking to their gate.

Lu Guang grimaced in the wake of seemingly endless questions. His head pounded in a deafening drumbeat and he had to suppress his yawns.

He hadn’t been able to sleep at all the night before, too plagued by memories of Cheng Xiaoshi’s corpse, too aware of the looming date.

Finally, Lu Guang growled, “Please, Cheng Xiaoshi!” He hadn’t meant to snap so harshly, but he couldn’t take the words back. They hung in the air between them, suffocating them. He swallowed thickly, eyes never leaving Cheng Xiaoshi’s. “I-“

“No, you’re right, we should get going,” Cheng Xiaoshi brushed past him, walking briskly.

‘I’m sorry,’ stung Lu Guang’s tongue as it sat, festering, ‘I’m trying to save you,’ leached venom as it was swallowed instead of spoken.

All he did was follow.

They sat quietly as they waited for their seating block, neither saying anything even after they found their seats and fastened their seatbelts.

Finally, Lu Guang couldn’t stand the tension between them any longer. “Cheng Xiaoshi-”

“Save it,” came the brusque reply. “We can talk when we land.”

Thoroughly shot down, Lu Guang forced a slow nod. He still couldn’t bear the mounting pressure between them, so he placed headphones over his ears, leaned his head back, and allowed himself to fall into a fitful sleep.

He was jolted awake an indeterminate amount of time later by Cheng Xiaoshi clutching at him. “Lu Guang!” he screamed. It was hard to hear above the sound of every other passenger screaming.

There was a horrific feeling of weightlessness.

Just past Cheng Xiaoshi, Lu Guang could see how quickly they were rocketing towards the ground.

Lu Guang clawed through his memories, struggling to think back to the first timeline.

Were there supposed to be any accidents on this day?

It had been decades for Lu Guang; it was so hard to remember.

He faced Cheng Xiaoshi, taking in his terrified expression. “I’m so sorry, Cheng Xiaoshi!” he screamed back. “I’ll save you next time!”

Confusion and disbelief dawned on his face just as the airplane gave another violent shudder.

An idea had Lu Guang frantically grabbing for his phone. If he could just get a photograph, he could guarantee Cheng Xiaoshi’s survival. It slipped out of his shaking fingers, and he lunged to grab it.

He felt himself slip out of Cheng Xiaoshi’s arms.

Later on, as Lu Guang trembled among the other survivors, he wished he could have comforted Cheng Xiaoshi in his final moments.

In the end, there was only one fatality from the plane crash.

According to the news, it was a miracle.

According to Lu Guang, it was a tragedy.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Cheng Xiaoshi looked up and gave him a brilliant smile. “Oh hey. You’re up!” He paused, eyes growing wide. “Whoa, what happened to you?”

Lu Guang offered him a thin smile as he scratched the back of his head. “I know. My dad went white at a young age too.”

“Okay, but… overnight? How does that happen?”

He could only offer a hopefully-clueless shrug. “Bad dreams?”

There was a beat of silence before Cheng Xiaoshi began laughing uproariously. “You’re seriously like a grandpa now!”

At that, Lu Guang widened his eyes. “I forgot I need to go help my grandfather!” Without even bothering to wait for a response, he rushed to the front door, slipped his shoes on, and flung the door open.

“Can we play basketball again soon?” came Cheng Xiaoshi’s voice from behind him.

Lu Guang paused halfway out the door, unwilling to look up out of fear of seeing his corpse instead. “Soon,” he said.

And then he slipped out of the door.

Maybe it was his fault. Maybe the only reason why Cheng Xiaoshi died was because of him.

Maybe it was his presence that was dooming Cheng Xiaoshi.

It was worth a shot, to ensure Cheng Xiaoshi’s survival.

He would do anything to keep him alive.

As he ran away to his small apartment, Lu Guang realized that it was getting harder and harder to breathe.

It didn’t make sense. He was younger than he had been, so shouldn’t running like this be easier? In this time, his body should be used to jogging and playing basketball.

But now his body sparked with pain as his joints protested the harsh movement.

It was probably nothing. Lu Guang mentally shrugged and continued on to his apartment, slowing to a more manageable walk.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next day, Lu Guang’s phone chimed with a text.

And the day after that.

Then it rang with a phone call.

And the same happened the week after that.

As the months dragged on, Lu Guang’s phone slowly fell silent, save for his daily homework alerts.

No longer did Cheng Xiaoshi ask to play basketball or if he was free to hang out.

All of his previous messages were unread and unanswered.

It would seem he got the message.

Every time Lu Guang opened his phone, he saw the ‘Unread Messages’ alert, and his heart sank a little more.

He knew Cheng Xiaoshi’s university schedule by heart at this point, and made an effort to avoid running into him, even if it meant being late to a few classes.

It hurt like a physical ache in his chest to cut all ties with him, but if that’s what ensured Cheng Xiaoshi’s survival, Lu Guang was willing to endure the pain of separation.

Upon reaching graduation, years later, Lu Guang didn’t see Cheng Xiaoshi’s name anywhere on the list of graduates.

In every timeline thus far, he’d always finished his degree. He’d been uncharacteristically enthusiastic about it because it was his passion: photography.

After every graduation, Qiao Ling had insisted on framing his diploma.

Unable to keep himself away any longer, Lu Guang walked down that same familiar street the day after he graduated.

The bell jingled merrily as he opened the door, the automatic cat speaker heralding his arrival.

There was no one to be seen.

Although, Lu Guang thought, perhaps he’s just lounging on the couch or in the darkroom.

Resisting the urge to go find him - because this wasn’t his home anymore, he had to remind himself - Lu Guang called out, “Hello?”

A bright smile poked out from the sunroom, and his initial excitement faded into confusion as Qiao Ling approached. “Welcome to Traveling The Hours Photo Studio,” she greeted him happily. “How can I help you today?”

“Traveling The…?” Lu Guang hadn’t even looked at the sign. “You’ve changed the name?”

Qiao Ling tilted her head, innocent confusion clouding her features. “Have you been here before?”

Lu Guang forced himself to nod. “Y-yes… back when it was called the Hero Photo Studio…”

“Oh…” Her eyes dimmed slightly before crinkling shut with a smile. “Well, I’m glad that you’re back!”

Before she could ask again what he needed help with, Lu Guang interrupted her, “But why ‘Traveling The Hours’?”

She chuckled slightly. “It’s my brother’s name. This studio is actually his, but he’s gone, so I’m taking care of it for him.”

Acting ignorant was torturous, but Lu Guang forced himself to ask, “Oh yeah, I think I remember a guy working here before. Where did he go? I wanted to ask him something.”

Qiao Ling gave him a small smile. “He moved to Laughter’s Haven,” she said. “He’s alone, but I go visit him when I can.”

Laughter’s Haven. Was it a community residence? The name suited Cheng Xiaoshi and his seemingly-endless laughter. Lu Guang nodded and turned. “Thank you, Qiao Ling.”

“W-wait!”

He paused, the door halfway open.

“How do you know my name?”

There was silence until Lu Guang spoke once more: “It’s a secret.”

Just like everything else about him.

At that, he left the studio - taking a second to read the sign and admire Cheng Xiaoshi’s name on it for all to see - and called himself a taxi.

“I’d like to go to Laughter’s Haven, please,” he told the driver as he slipped into the backseat.

It didn’t take long for the cab to come to a stop. “We’re here,” the driver said.

“How much do I owe you?”

The driver shook his head, an odd look on his face. “No charge. Just get in there and go visit whoever you came to visit.”

Lu Guang mentally shrugged and exited the taxi.

And only then did his world crash down around him.

Laughter’s Haven Cemetery
Embracing The Memories Of The Joyful

“No…”

Even as he walked through the rows of headstones, each adorned with a picture of its resident, smiling and laughing for all to see, he couldn’t believe it.

Until he found his.

Cheng Xiaoshi’s name was etched in stone. His face was on it, frozen mid-laugh.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood before it, the breeze shifting his hair.

If he closed his eyes, he could almost hear Cheng Xiaoshi’s cheerful laughter carried on the wind, his hand ruffling his white locks.

“Did you know him?”

Lu Guang jumped, turning to see Qiao Ling’s mother standing next to him with a white rose in her hands. His mouth opened, but no words escaped.

But that seemed to be fine for Qiao Lia. She smiled at him sadly. “He knew many people, but not many people knew him. He was a good boy, always smiling and laughing.” She knelt to place the flower in front of the stone. “But he was sad. When no one was around.” She paused. “And he was lonely.”

Her voice was steeped with regret.

The same regret that was slowly drowning Lu Guang.

“How…?” He couldn’t force the rest of the words out.

“A year ago, my daughter went to visit him. The two of them were like brother and sister, and they bickered like it too, oh! Once they started, you couldn’t get them to stop! But, a year ago, she found him hanging from a noose in his bedroom.”

Lu Guang couldn’t help the strangled sob that escaped from his throat. It was a guttural sound, one that brought the prickling of tears in its wake. “I’m sorry,” he whispered around the lump in his throat.

It felt like he was choking on Cheng Xiaoshi’s ghost.

A year.

He’d been dead for an entire year.

He could feel Qiao Lia giving him a strange look, but he ignored it. Instead, he turned and left her with Cheng Xiaoshi.

On the way back to his apartment, Lu Guang turned on his phone and finally opened his chat with Cheng Xiaoshi.

Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision.

It was full of texts, ranging from asking if Lu Guang was feeling alright to asking if Cheng Xiaoshi had offended him in some way.

The last message, dated last year, simply read:

Please don’t leave me too

After months of ignoring messages and calls, Lu Guang’s phone had automatically labeled the contact as ‘Silent’, preventing him from seeing notifications from Cheng Xiaoshi.

Preventing him from seeing that last message and saving him.

The next time he fell into the bedroom in the Hero Photo Studio, a new ghost was waiting for him among the three others. It’s your fault, he seemed to wheeze through a neck that was bent too far to the side.

“I know,” he answered as he prepared himself to exit the room. “But I’ll fix it.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was almost embarrassing how clingy Lu Guang felt in this new timeline. He wanted to stick to Cheng Xiaoshi everywhere he went, wanted to reach out and hold him in a continuous reassurance that he was alive.

Or, maybe, it was an attempt at a silent apology for his past transgressions.

Despite having died so many times, Cheng Xiaoshi seemed more full of life than ever.

Lu Guang absently wondered if all of his energy was somehow being transferred to Cheng Xiaoshi.

Because he began to feel like the ‘old man’ Cheng Xiaoshi teased him to be. His joints burned, protesting loudly whenever he moved, and his headache was constant.

He was so incredibly tired.

On particularly rough days, he walked with a slight limp he couldn’t hide.

Cheng Xiaoshi had noticed, of course, but Lu Guang had covered it up with a slight fib.

Just another one to add to the ever-growing pile.

Events occurred just like they had two timelines ago: Lu Guang caught Cheng Xiaoshi and taught him about his power, then they both opened the studio together and, eventually, started their side business.

It seemed the same.

But, as always, Cheng Xiaoshi was reckless and impulsive.

And any small changes in the past created ripples through time.

Such as sending a text that should have never been sent that led to the death of a young woman.

He had done something, but Lu Guang didn’t confront him. After all, while he knew that Emma wasn’t supposed to die, Cheng Xiaoshi had no idea that his actions had created a death node.

And, as morbid of a thought as it was, Lu Guang felt hope stirring in his chest.

If a death node could be created where there was none previously… did that mean that a death node could be erased?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The punch knocked Lu Guang off of his feet and onto the couch. But instead of pain or fear flashing across his face, there was only acceptance.

Yes, he thought as the scenery spun around him, please blame me for this. So that you won’t blame yourself.

Sobs filled the otherwise-silent room, and Lu Guang stood back up. He knelt before Cheng Xiaoshi and wiped his tears, pulling him into a hug.

Cheng Xiaoshi clutched at Lu Guang’s shirt. “I don’t understand. What was the point of delivering all those messages if we didn’t end up saving anyone?!” His voice was anguished, caught between a wail and a scream, and Lu Guang wished that he could ease his pain.

“Listen,” Lu Guang began, keeping his eyes downcast on the living body before him instead of the ever-growing crowd of ghosts that clustered around them. “You know the rules.” And so do I, he added wryly in his mind. “We go to the past, but we leave it like we found it.”

He resisted the urge to hold Cheng Xiaoshi’s shaking frame closer to his body, instinctively trying to protect him from damage that had already been done. “Don’t question what’s happened, or the future will be altered because of us.”

And all Cheng Xiaoshi could do in the wake of those awfully-calloused words was hang his head and cry.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Even though Lu Guang knew it was futile, he let Cheng Xiaoshi talk to Emma.

Looking through Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes, he could see just how broken she was. She regretted so much, and it all came spilling out as he approached.

Lu Guang hung his head, hating the inevitable tragedy that Cheng Xiaoshi would have to witness.

A death node couldn’t be changed, after all.

And, in this timeline, Emma’s death was an absolute.

One of her stockinged feet was raised, ready to take that last step backwards over the edge. She clutched at her torso as if trying to shield herself from Cheng Xiaoshi’s gaze. “There’s nothing left…” she sobbed.

Lu Guang shivered, recalling thinking those very same words in past timelines that felt so long ago.

When he stood in front of the bathroom mirror, bracing his arms on either side of the sink and staring into the mirror, asking himself what he had left without Cheng Xiaoshi.

When he knelt on the floor of the photo studio, cradling a cooling body and pleading a murderer for death.

The sheer hopelessness, even now, so many decades later, frightened him.

He hoped to never feel it again.

Then, Cheng Xiaoshi stepped forward once more, and his words touched Lu Guang’s heart even across time.

“I’ve learned some things from the people whose lives I’ve inhabited. Some of them persevere for love. Others need to get lost in order to find themselves. I’ve seen what it means to be a parent and live with loss, and experienced the joy of a family being reunited. For most people, it’s worth the wait. I believe everyone has a reason to keep on living. Though at times we may find ourselves in darkness, eventually we meet people who shine their light on us.”

You, Lu Guang reflexively thought. You are my reason to keep on living. Even when I was in complete darkness, even when you weren’t here, your light shone on me and gave my life meaning again. I will persevere for you.

“Cheng Xiaoshi,” he said out loud. “Come back now. You don’t want to see what happens next.”

But… Emma stepped forward instead of backwards. She smiled and extended her hand.

Disbelief made Lu Guang’s heart pound painfully. “How…?! Death’s a node that can’t be changed.”

He dimly heard Qiao Ling enter the sunroom, but was completely focused on the past.

At least, until he looked up and saw red eyes gleaming back at him. He choked at the sharp pain from the knife sticking out of his gut.

“You’re another one of his friends, eh?” The person who was and was not Qiao Ling smirked, putting her entire weight behind it until it looked like she was embracing him, even as she pushed the knife in deeper.

Lu Guang saw rather than felt himself tip sideways, watched as crimson blood began to flow into his lap and onto the couch.

He numbly lifted a hand, coughing up coppery liquid as he stared at the blood soaking his palm.

Tears fell down his cheeks as he remembered the last time his hands looked like that.

Cheng Xiaoshi’s body was falling, his once-graceful form crumpling to the floor. A scream rose into the air and Lu Guang only distantly realized it was coming from his own mouth as he ran forward and knelt beside Cheng Xiaoshi, hands instinctively pushing down on the wound.

Blood spread out from him in a pool, growing too big. He couldn’t stop the bleeding; it was gushing past his fingers and drenching his hands.

Cheng Xiaoshi was watching him, a terrible, awful truth behind his eyes that Lu Guang just couldn’t accept.

Huh. Funny. Lu Guang saw that same disbelief in Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes before him.

Wait, why was he in the present?

Lu Guang wished that he wasn’t here, that he didn’t have to see this.

But, above all else, Lu Guang felt relief, hopeful that this cycle of endless life and death and resetting could finally end with him.

Maybe if he gave his own life, Lu Guang dimly thought, he could satisfy the unchangeable node and save Cheng Xiaoshi once and for all.

He gathered the fraying vestiges of his focus, hoping that, somehow, their mental link was still connecting them. I’m sorry… he tried to think to Cheng Xiaoshi. Everything is going to be different now…

“Lu Guang!”

Death isn’t something any one of us can change… His vision blurred as he struggled to keep his eyes open, fighting for breath. The best we can do… is accept it. There was another shuddering inhale that rattled in his ears. So please… don’t let this be another burden for you to carry.

With that, the world went dark, only one thing piercing the blackness before he knew no more.

“LU GUANG!”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was dark and cold in the tunnel.

The echoes of gunshots rang in Lu Guang’s ears. He’d tried to fight with Cheng Xiaoshi, first against Li Tianchen, then against Qian Jin, but his body wouldn’t move the way he wanted it to.

He was stiff and his body screamed at him to stop and rest.

But he knew that Cheng Xiaoshi was counting on him. So he did his best to push through.

That was always how it was, he thought in the back of his mind, so removed from the fighting that it was almost subconscious. Lu Guang always gave all of his energy for Cheng Xiaoshi, to ensure his survival.

He gave his all to him.

Lu Guang gave his all to keep Cheng Xiaoshi alive, only for it to amount to a handful of years together. It was as if he was funneling his very life essence into Cheng Xiaoshi, keeping him alive for the same years over and over again.

His thoughts slammed to a screeching halt as Qian Jin kicked him in the gut, right where he’d been stabbed. Lu Guang crumpled to the ground, hands around his midsection as he felt the bandages and fabric begin to grow damp with blood.

Looking up, he saw the figure of Qian Jin standing before them with gritted teeth. He raised his gun towards Qiao Ling, who still held Li Tianxi in her arms. “Damn you all!” he roared.

On his other side, Lu Guang saw Cheng Xiaoshi rush forward.

It all happened so fast.

Reckless.

Impulsive.

Idiot.

He threw himself in front of the gun just as it shot the bullet, propelling it into Cheng Xiaoshi’s midsection.

In a blink, Qian Jin was replaced by Liu Xiao, and Cheng Xiaoshi was falling to the floor of their studio.

In the next, Lu Guang had sprung forward, gripping Cheng Xiaoshi’s assailant and throwing him aside in a surprising feat of strength. He knelt next to Cheng Xiaoshi, picking him up and carrying him to the opposite wall, single-mindedly trying to keep him safe.

With one last tight embrace and a quick press of his lips to Cheng Xiaoshi’s forehead, he left him there, standing and running back, teeth bared in a feral snarl and murder in his eyes.

He didn’t care who he was punching - Liu Xiao or Qian Jin, it didn’t matter - all he knew was that this person had hurt Cheng Xiaoshi.

He’d already killed for Cheng Xiaoshi before.

He was prepared to do it again.

The fight didn’t last long. The adrenaline pumping through Lu Guang’s veins drained too quickly, and his opponent took advantage of his lack of energy, ramming his fist into Lu Guang’s jaw.

Just as he fell to the ground, a figure appeared behind his attacker.

In a sudden burst of clarity, Lu Guang recognized Captain Xiao and instinctively knew that he’d be alright.

The captain was strong and was sure to overpower Qian Jin before too long.

With the last of his strength, Lu Guang dragged himself across the tracks until he sat next to Cheng Xiaoshi and hugged his limp form, sobbing into his shoulder.

He wished that he would feel arms reaching up to embrace him in return.

It was dark and cold in the tunnel, but it couldn’t compare to how cold Cheng Xiaoshi’s body was or how dark Lu Guang’s soul felt.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Next time,” Lu Guang whispered to himself as he pulled a photograph out of his safe. He set it on the desk before him and raised his hands.

“Next time, I’ll save him for sure.”

He wished he could wholeheartedly believe his words even as his hands clapped together and he fell through time once more.

Notes:

I love how canonically Cheng Xiaoshi’s name could be interpreted to be ‘Traveling The Hours’, so I just had to put it in here somewhere. It’s such a beautiful name, and so fitting for him.

When I wrote Lu Guang going feral after making sure Cheng Xiaoshi was safe, I had to track down this one piece of art because it was just so fitting. You can find the original post here.

Chapter 12: Time Traveler’s Lament

Notes:

I’ll be honest, I’ve been all up and down the internet, and I’ve seen this picture in so many places, I can’t pin down the correct artist 😭😭 If anyone knows (and can prove) the true artist for this picture, please let me know so I can ask/credit them.

Additionally, about the video link!

Really short PSA! I am a writer! I am not an artist or videographer or editer or anything of the sort. So please forgive the wonky visuals 😭
Visuals and voice clips are not mine. Everything comes from the donghua Shiguang Dailiren (Link Click).
Originally Lament Of Orpheus
Originally written and performed by Darren Korb (featuring Ashley Barrett)
Re-produced and sung by Gustavo Steiner
Edited slightly by me to go with this chapter of Time Traveler’s Lament
I tried so hard to track down the cover artist but I couldn’t find anything 😭. If anyone knows who created this beautiful piece of artwork, please let me know so I can ask for permission to use their art

Time Traveler’s Lament

 

Content Warnings (Spoilers!)

~Cheng Xiaoshi dies (again)

It happened again.

Lu Guang bit back a scream of frustration as he looked back at Cheng Xiaoshi’s lifeless body.

Again.

“Cheng Xiaoshi…” he whispered, more to the new ghost before him than to the corpse he was leaving behind. “I’m sorry.”

He reached a hand out and gripped the railing. He was leaving blood (Cheng Xiaoshi’s blood) everywhere, but he didn’t care.

He didn’t care that it was spreading in a pool, seemingly endlessly out of the only person he truly loved. He didn’t care that he was painting the handrail with the same crimson. He didn’t care because, frankly, it wasn’t his problem to clean up.

Or, rather, not directly.

He shuddered as he recalled the first time Cheng Xiaoshi died, how he had been unable to clean up the stains, the smell, the feeling of the blood. How he had worked his fingers nearly to the bone cleaning every surface that had blood on it (and even the surfaces that had been untouched because what if there had been blood there and he’d just forgotten?). How the skin across his knuckles had blistered and cracked from how many times he tried to scrub the blood out from the indents of his palm and from under his nails.

A distant part of his brain was relieved he would never have to go through that again.

Except for those nightmares that followed him like a relentless wild animal nipping at his heels, Cheng Xiaoshi’s face haunting him every time he slept.

Every version of Cheng Xiaoshi had noticed Lu Guang’s poor sleep and nightmares and had tried to help. It was just in his nature.

He always wanted to help. It was his reckless hope and need to help that forced Lu Guang’s hand in creating the three rules.

Those rules… The rules that he pretended were of utmost importance…

“I’m always telling you to leave the past untouched… but I couldn’t follow my own words.”

Lies.

Nothing but lies.

Deep down, he wondered if his old self would be disgusted at what he’d become. How callous and deceitful and hypocritical he was destined to be. How he was willing to lie to the world, bearing the weight of the timeline on his shoulders over and over until he finally got it right.

…could he even get it right?

Lu Guang shoved the thought away, baring his teeth in frustration and pain. He would!

He had to.

He would march to the afterlife and drag Cheng Xiaoshi back if he could.

His legs were screaming at him, but he finally made it to the top of the stairs. Even as he paused to catch his breath, his eyes were already locked onto the safe in the corner of the room.

‘Why do you need a safe? I thought all your valuables were stolen?’

The ghost of Cheng Xiaoshi fluttered before his eyes, recreating a scene long past. Lu Guang frowned. Which timeline had this been in? There were so many, it was hard to distinguish them.

His past self had shrugged, avoiding Cheng Xiaoshi’s searching gaze. ‘I’d rather not say,’ he’d mumbled.

At that, Cheng Xiaoshi had shrugged good-naturedly and left Lu Guang to fill the safe in peace, probably believing that he’d be clued in one day.

That damn node.

One foot in front of the other. “Even if I know that death is an unchangeable point,” Lu Guang whispered, “I still wanna use the last chance…”

He almost hadn’t wanted to admit it, but his body was shutting down. The strain of living the same years over and over again was taking its toll. Chronic pain wracked Lu Guang’s joints, his head throbbed in time with his heartbeat, and his ears had a dreadful high-pitched hum echoing inside them.

Slowly rifling through the photographs before him, Lu Guang wondered if he would even have it in him to be able to play basketball with Cheng Xiaoshi in this new timeline.

But, he knew that even if it killed him, he would live through those years again. He’d dive every day until there was nothing left, even if it left the universe in a mess, doing everything in his power… “T-to have to the beginning,” he said, picking up his photograph of choice with shaking fingers and setting it on the desk.

He drew in a ragged breath as he held his hands out in front of him.

The ticking of the clock seemed to get louder and louder.

“And save you.”

He clapped.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Everything just felt so much brighter when Cheng Xiaoshi was alive. The rising sunlight filtered through the window, the bedroom looking the same as it had moments earlier, and yet nothing like it at the same time.

He knew the routine by now. Snap an extra picture of the bedroom. Head downstairs and take a picture of Cheng Xiaoshi.

Even though he technically could use that picture for his dives, it always felt too precious to use.

And, no matter how cold and callous Lu Guang became, he always needed to prepare himself before he faced the living corpse of Cheng Xiaoshi.

Even as his feet drew him towards the door, words blossomed in his mind, a prayer for this timeline. Hear, o’ gods, my desperate plea to see my love beside me.

He opened the door, making sure it made no sound. Sunk below the mortal sea, his anchor weighs upon me.

He could still feel it, the responsibility of carrying Cheng Xiaoshi’s soul and keeping it safe, a weight that grew heavier with every timeline he lived through.

He wondered if it would ever get heavy enough to crush him.

Lu Guang kept his eyes on the floor beneath his socked feet as he descended the stairs one at a time, one hand on the railing - now free of blood - and one hand clutching the camera.

O’ gods, fasten his tether upon me so that he may rise to sail free.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Lu Guang mechanically lifted the camera, peering through the viewfinder.

No matter how many times he’s lived through it, the scene awaiting him always left him breathless.

‘The golden hour,’ Cheng Xiaoshi had once told him, a long time ago, ‘A photographer’s favorite time of day.’ His face had been tender and full of passion as he waxed poetic. ‘Light shines through the window, making everything appear soft and warm.’

The scene before him depicted a young man, radiant in the dawn’s early light. Full of life, with hopes, visions, plans for the future.

The sickly-sweet stench of fresh blood and death wafted from behind him.

Lu Guang shuddered.

Don’t look back.

He could feel their presence behind him, the line of ghosts stretching behind him, growing ever longer.

No matter what timeline he was in, Lu Guang was always accompanied by the litany of corpses and the stench of blood, adding to their number with each version of Cheng Xiaoshi he failed to save.

Almost as if the angel of death was following him, shadowing his every step.

Don’t look back.

The shutter clicked, ingraining the moment into film like magic.

Cheng Xiaoshi looked up and gave him a brilliant smile. “Oh hey. You’re up!” He paused, just like all the other times. “Whoa, what happened to you?”

The smile that Lu Guang sent back to him was equal parts relieved and strained.

Don’t look back.

It didn’t matter how worn his body became.

All that mattered was saving Cheng Xiaoshi.

That was the only thing that mattered, that ever mattered to Lu Guang.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Lu Guang was strange.

From the very first time they’d met, Cheng Xiaoshi had felt some sort of connection linking them together.

They just… clicked.

Then came the day when Lu Guang’s hair changed.

He’d tried to laugh it off, but there was something off about him, either in the look in his eyes or the way he carried himself.

It was as if his personality had changed as well, as if he’d aged to sixty overnight without looking older at all.

But, deep down, Cheng Xiaoshi could sense he was the same Lu Guang who used to play basketball with him.

The same Lu Guang he didn’t even have to look to pass to.

It was strange, especially considering how eager he had been to play basketball when they’d met, but now Lu Guang always declined playing. Instead, he’d sit in the shade and watch Cheng Xiaoshi shoot hoops and practice dunking.

Sometimes he brought a book to read.

He was a lot calmer than Cheng Xiaoshi had initially thought, but he didn’t mind. In fact, Lu Guang’s cool personality was the perfect contrast to Cheng Xiaoshi’s perpetually-whirring mind.

And he seemed to have a sixth sense for danger. There were times when he showed his stubborn side, preventing Cheng Xiaoshi from something or other without listening to Cheng Xiaoshi’s pleas.

Those things that Cheng Xiaoshi was never allowed to go to always seemed to have accidents.

There was a new milk tea shop across town that Lu Guang forbade him from visiting on opening day? There was a brutal car crash on the same road he would have taken.

There was a concert that Cheng Xiaoshi wanted to go see with Qiao Ling, but Lu Guang protested? Parasites were found in the food trucks nearby, causing severe food poisoning and hospitalizations.

Lu Guang certainly was strange.

Upon hearing about each of those accidents, he always pursed his lips, eyes growing dark.

Cheng Xiaoshi wondered what was going on inside his head.

But, at the same time, Cheng Xiaoshi was just happy to be able to live with and spend time with his best friend, without the need to peek behind the lens at his inner workings.

Although, Cheng Xiaoshi did know one thing unequivocally about Lu Guang, something as constant and reliable as the sun rising in the morning.

Lu Guang had nightmares.

He tried to hide it - and he did a fairly good job of doing so - but ever since that night, Cheng Xiaoshi had known the truth.

It had been a few months after Lu Guang had moved in. He’d warned Cheng Xiaoshi to not drink so much caffeine so late in the day, but Cheng Xiaoshi hadn’t listened.

That night, he’d laid in bed, staring at the underside of Lu Guang’s bunk, cursing his past self.

Until he’d heard it.

A sharp inhale followed by pained, wheezing gasps. It didn’t take long for them to subside, but Cheng Xiaoshi knew instinctively what had happened.

Ever since then, he’d stayed up - or, at least, he’d tried to - until he heard those shaky breaths.

He wanted to bring it up to Lu Guang, but by the time he’d felt comfortable enough with his best friend to talk about it, he’d already been listening to him for a month.

So he just continued without saying a word, even though he wanted to reach out, wanted to comfort Lu Guang and ask what was plaguing his dreams.

Instead, he tried to make his days more comfortable. On days when the studio was closed, Lu Guang would descend the stairs only to find a soft blanket and tea next to his favorite book, just waiting for him in the sunroom.

But it was never enough to prevent his nightmares.

Finally, the night came when Cheng Xiaoshi had no choice but to act.

It happened years into their friendship, but Cheng Xiaoshi hadn’t paid attention to the exact date.

On this night, the peaceful quiet of their bedroom was broken abruptly by Lu Guang. Instead of simply gasping for breath as he’d done every night prior, he called out as he woke up. “Che-!”

The cry was almost immediately bit back, but Cheng Xiaoshi had heard it.

He also heard the almost-silent sobs that seemed to echo in his ears.

Before he knew what was happening, Cheng Xiaoshi had slid out of bed and was climbing the ladder. “Lu Guang?” he asked in a whisper, but there was no response. Lu Guang was curled up on his bed facing the wall, his back to the room.

Cheng Xiaoshi distantly wondered if he was trying to shut him out.

Regardless of if he was or wasn’t, Cheng Xiaoshi needed to comfort him. As he carefully crawled over to Lu Guang’s other side, he could see that he was clutching his arms to his chest, almost as if he was hugging himself for comfort. His eyes were puffy and full of tears as he stared at the wall.

“Lu Guang?” Cheng Xiaoshi tried again. He crept forward until he was able to lay his head down on Lu Guang’s pillow, right in his line of sight. “What’s wrong?”

All of a sudden, Lu Guang’s face crumpled, a fresh wave of tears spilling from his eyes as he reached forward and clutched at Cheng Xiaoshi, burying his face in his chest. This time, loud wails rang in their bedroom, sounding more and more like words the more that Cheng Xiaoshi listened.

He embraced Lu Guang and held him close as he finally realized that he was crying “I’m sorry” over and over again.

“What are you sorry about, Lu Guang?” Cheng Xiaoshi murmured quietly against damp white locks.

But Lu Guang didn’t answer. His cries gradually lessened until he whispered his apologies against Cheng Xiaoshi’s chest.

And Cheng Xiaoshi held Lu Guang the entire time. He held him as if he was trying to keep him from breaking into a million pieces.

Finally, he fell back asleep, his grip on Cheng Xiaoshi faltering as he relaxed.

But, even though Lu Guang was able to sleep, Cheng Xiaoshi stayed awake. He held Lu Guang, trying to comfort him through his embrace.

Even as the sun began to peek over the horizon and Lu Guang began to stir, Cheng Xiaoshi never moved.

Lu Guang’s eyes opened, focusing on Cheng Xiaoshi before flicking away. He sat up abruptly, descending the ladder and walking out of the bedroom without looking back.

But Cheng Xiaoshi hadn’t missed the light blush that had colored Lu Guang’s cheeks.

He’d almost begun to believe that Lu Guang would distance himself, would insist he was fine, or maybe even find a way to prevent Cheng Xiaoshi from doing the same thing in the future.

But just before they went to bed that night, as Cheng Xiaoshi lay in his own bed, scrolling on his phone. Lu Guang approached him with a pillow in his hands, a barely-perceptible sheen in his eye.

In the nights that followed, the two of them had an unspoken agreement.

It became their new normal.

Cheng Xiaoshi comforted Lu Guang through his nightmares and, when he began to develop his own nightmares stemming from bad dives, Lu Guang returned the favor.

They were there for each other.

There was one day, six years into their friendship, when Lu Guang requested that they do nothing the following day.

“Sure,” Cheng Xiaoshi answered. “But, what’s so special about it?”

Lu Guang didn’t answer at first, and Cheng Xiaoshi got the sense that he shouldn’t pry.

And yet: “Someone dear to me died on that day.”

Cheng Xiaoshi’s mouth dropped as he struggled to comprehend what he’d heard.

Lu Guang was a secretive man. This was the first time he’d ever voluntarily talked about his past.

Quickly composing himself, Cheng Xiaoshi reached out to Lu Guang, now used to the feeling of comforting him in his arms. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. He paused, already knowing the answer but deciding to ask it anyway, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Lu Guang only shook his head. “No. It wouldn’t help anyway.”

That night, as Cheng Xiaoshi dozed, he absently wondered why Lu Guang had never mentioned this special person’s death before. They’d been living together for the better part of a decade, had passed this date multiple times, and yet this was the first time Cheng Xiaoshi had heard of it.

He felt Lu Guang stirring beside him, felt him reach over and lay a hand on his chest, directly over his heart.

This wasn’t uncommon. Lu Guang seemed to take solace in the simple gesture whenever he was struggling with his nightmares.

But this time, he spoke.

His words were breathy, more air than voice, but Cheng Xiaoshi was still able to make them out.

“I’m sorry. This time will be different. I promise.”

There was some shifting and then Cheng Xiaoshi felt something soft press against his cheek.

Did he just…?

And Lu Guang settled back down, his breaths deepening until Cheng Xiaoshi was sure he was asleep.

Only then did he reach up and touch his cheek with tentative fingers.

Was that…?

A surge of emotions rose in his chest so strongly that he was surprised that Lu Guang didn’t feel it.

He could only turn Lu Guang’s words over in his mind as he tried to make sense of them.

I’m sorry. This time will be different. I promise.

Somehow, even if he didn’t understand the context, those words comforted Cheng Xiaoshi as he drifted off as well.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The sun rose on September 12th, finding Lu Guang still in bed.

Today was the day when, so many timelines ago, a red-haired assassin had murdered Cheng Xiaoshi downstairs, right in front of Lu Guang.

A full year before his death node.

But, just under his fingers, Lu Guang could feel Cheng Xiaoshi’s heartbeat, strong and healthy and alive.

And that was good enough for him for the moment.

Lu Guang took solace in that steadfast beat and drifted back to sleep with a smile on his face.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next day, Cheng Xiaoshi came downstairs, blearily rubbing his eyes. Before his vision had even cleared, he heard Lu Guang’s voice beckoning him further into the sunroom.

Yawning, he sprawled across the couch, blinking up at Lu Guang. “Mmmh? Wha’s goin’ on?”

“Cheng Xiaoshi… I wanted to ask you something.”

There was something about Lu Guang’s tone that immediately set off warning signals in Cheng Xiaoshi’s mind. He sat up, instantly on alert and attentive to what was about to be said. “What is it?” He asked, trying to sound casual.

Lu Guang was hunched over with his elbows on his knees, his fingers steepled in front of his face. He did not turn to look at Cheng Xiaoshi. “I’ve been trying something for so long, and I think that asking you for help is worth a shot.” He paused, inhaling deeply as his eyes closed. “Because I will try anything.”

“Uh, sure? What’s up? I’ll help however I can!”

Upon hearing that, Lu Guang straightened and turned, his intense gaze all but pinning Cheng Xiaoshi in place. He opened his mouth, breathing deeply and visibly steeling himself before he finally spoke.

“Xiaoshi… do you know about the Butterfly Effect?”

Notes:

I did the math with the timelines and years and all that and this version of Lu Guang should be minimum 60 years old! Hopefully my math is right, but if it’s not, feel free to correct me 😅

The scene when Lu Guang was crying in his bed was inspired by this comic! It’s a favorite headcanon of mine that Lu Guang sees Cheng Xiaoshi’s corpse occasionally, either as ghosts following him (as in this story) or replacing the real Cheng Xiaoshi.

Aaaaaah! It’s finally come to a close. I had such a fun time writing this story, and I can’t thank my Dear Readers enough for sticking with it for this long. Thank you all for your support, and I hope to see you again in my next story!

Notes:

If you like this fic, let me know in the comments! I read all of them and love, love, LOVE every one! They honestly keep me going and encourage me to write more!
If you hate this fic, feel free to come yell at me on Tumblr! (I also post excerpts of my in-progress stories every Wednesday, so be sure to check for a sneak peak!)
All feedback is greatly appreciated.