Shen Suli is a lean woman, made all the more obvious by her height. She stands like bamboo against the sage green of the sunlit corridor; tall and proud, a dancer offstage. Her hair is greyer than Jericho remembers from that tiny photograph.
"Xuanyu. When did you get back?" Her question jerks him awake.
"Just now, Ma." He swallows, the silence between them cotton-thick. "How was your day?"
"It's just a normal day." The surprise on her face turns to reprimand, "You better not have driven home by yourself - the school's called me about your accident."
"No, no -" he runs a hand through his hair, "- Leo drove me home. His car's still -"
She cuts him off, immediately in his face and combing her hands around his head. Shit. The bandage.
A frown begins to crease her brows. "Oh, my Xuanyu," she clicks her tongue, "you won't be attending that club anymore."
"But -"
"No buts. I should have known that this would happen when I first met the captain. " She seems to decide that's enough fussing and turns to collect a half-empty cup from his desk. "Why don't you play with your friend Leo instead? He seems so much nicer."
Jericho frowns but stays quiet. Doesn't tell her that the old captain's already graduated, that Leo is the captain now.
"Anyway, what would you like for dinner? I'll ask Maria to add it to the table -" She peeks her head back through the door, "- and don't forget to do your homework!"
When she disappears, the room is empty again.
A deep breath - a sigh, really - heaves its way out of his chest. It falls over him like a blanket when he collapses into bed, sunlight still prancing over the air. He throws an arm over his eyes.
The sun is warm, so warm he wants to drown in it. He thinks he might be learning to breathe again, to register the air in his lungs and the soft of a world he only recognised through a lens of nostalgia.
Who are these strangers? He used to know them! Should he keep them close? Should he move on? How did he even get here -
"Oi, Jerry," Leonard's voice cleaves through his thoughts like an ice-breaker ship, "check me, will ya?"
Jericho sits up with a speed that sends his head spinning, and is almost glad he has an excuse for the stunned silence he falls into.
On Leonard, the soft turtleneck and long overcoat jacket fit perfectly, both in gentle, clean neutrals -- the perfect son-in-law. (Or an off-duty billionaire straight out of a K-drama.) Not even his unchanged trousers subtract from it, though the frown on his face does.
Jericho blinks hard and pretends it's the sun. "You're fine, mate."
Of course, that's when Leonard shrugs the blazer off and throws it over Jericho. "It's like twenty degrees outside," he complains, tugging at his knitted collar, "why'd you give me a jacket?"
"Use your brains, Leo," Jericho rolls his eyes and drapes the jacket back over Leonard's arm. It smells like expensive aftershave. "It's gonna rain in a minute, you literally said so. And everyone knows you can't charm a girl without lending a coat."
Leonard seems to frown harder at that. "Right," he turns and walks down the hall.
Something curdles in Jericho's chest. He doesn't want to let him go, to watch him walk away again. He's done enough of that last time (Before? Someday? Did it matter?) around. He wants to pull him close and huddle together and talk about smaller and simpler things, pretend they're little again.
The sunlight flickers between them like a blade. The image still burns when Jericho rolls his eyes and follows, pulling the door closed behind himself.
When they reach the living room, Jericho takes it in again; the arches that sweep into the pristine gardens he spent his childhood running through, the table he glared at countless times after a scolding, the golden lamps that lit his first childhood dreams.
"Leonard!" Shen Suli exclaims. "How are you? I hope Jericho hasn't caused you too much grief."
The blond boy slips into courtesy with ease. "No, not at all, Mrs Lawson."
"Well, I must thank you for taking care of him - and please do tell that awful captain that Jericho won't be attending that sports club anymore." She ignores Jericho's quiet panic completely. "How about you come over someday like we used to do? It'll be a nice reunion of sorts."
"Of course," Leonard says, throwing a we'll-talk-about-this look at Jericho, "we can't interrupt his recovery."
Jericho makes it a point to avoid his eyes. "Ma," he blurts, "Leonard has a date in ten minutes -"
"Oh? I'm so sorry! I won't hold you up any longer then," Suli smiles, unperturbed even as she walks them to the door. "Good luck, Leonard."
Leonard manages a last "- Thank you, Mrs Lawson -" before he's pulled outside by Jericho.
"C'mon mate." Jericho pushes Leonard bodily into the car, suddenly very glad to part, "Didn't you get the car for this one? Why are you dragging your feet now?"
Instead of answering, Leonard looks at him again. It does not help his nerves.
"What," Jericho counters. He doesn't know which to play, the brash teenager or the smooth consigliere - or even if he remembers how to be either. Is there even a third choice? Then and there, he decides he hates this very much.
"Why?" Leonard finally says, unhelpfully.
If he remembers correctly, the date didn't actually happen last time - well, it was postponed. They still got together, though, and he loved her. He's sure of it.
It was the love story of the era.
Jericho leans in to look at the clock on the dash. "Consider it a favour." He ignores the ice-blue stare no doubt branding into the side of his face. "Now get going, you're gonna be late."
His cheek is warm long after Leonard leaves.
A/N: For those confused, when in speech brackets, the italics usually denote either a different language being used or verbal emphasis. Context dependent.
School is (actively) killing me so I'm writing this by the power of rigor mortis alone. This fact may or may not have influenced the title. Stay safe out there, y'all.
