”Are you alright, Young Master?” Ivy asked some twenty minutes later. 

Sun Fang groaned. He turned his head on the pillow and gazed at Ivy. ”No,” he finally muttered, determinedly closing his eyes and pretending that the world didn’t exist. He had no idea what he was feeling. Like a fool? A cruel person who’d strung someone along for no reason? All he knew was that he wanted to lie here and pretend that nothing had ever happened.

His life? Did not exist. Had he ever even been born? Could a person ever really be sure they existed? If so, wasn’t it better to pretend that nothing was real and so nothing mattered?

”Do you want to watch a movie, Young Master?” Ivy asked.

”I just watched one,” Sun Fang answered.

”Swim in the pool?”

”Don’t feel like it.”

”Go to the arcade?”

”Games are boring.”

”Do some pottery?”

”That’s—” Sun Fang opened his eyes and sat up. He stared at Ivy, the android looking back at him with no facial expression. ”I would really like that, actually,” said Sun Fang. He began to smile and added, ”It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

”Yes, Young Master,” said Ivy while walking over to the closet. It was going through the clothes and pulling out some to place on the bed as it said, ”I’ll book you in for a special session, so you just get dressed and we can leave.”

”Okay,” Sun Fang agreed. He passively watched as Ivy left, then crawled over the bed to the clothes. It was a long summer dress, white and with lots of ruffles. He knew that when he spun, the skirt would flare out around him like a flower blooming. There was a thin scarf, too, doubtlessly added just because Ivy liked to plan for every eventuality.

Pressing down on his emotions, Sun Fang unhurriedly got dressed. He brushed his hair as he walked through the hallway, placing the brush on a table he walked by when he was done. While he was in the middle of braiding his long hair so it wouldn’t interfere with his pottery-making, Ivy was going through the motion to shut down everything in the apartment to save energy.

At the front door, the two met up. Sun Fang gulped at that door, stilling as he recalled the (imagined) sound of Mo Cheng closing it as he left. It had only been a half-hour at most, since that disastrous conversation.

He still didn’t know what he was feeling.

”Everything has been set up, Young Master,” Ivy said. It opened the door for him, holding it while he shoved his feet into his white sandals and walked out. The door locked automatically behind them.

The ride down in the elevator was silent, only the sound of the elevator’s soft music audible. Sun Fang did his best not to think of anything, letting his mind rest as he leaned against the elevator’s wall. He absentmindedly watched his reflection in the wall-length mirror across him, observing his tired eyes and frown. Getting tired of the view, he fished up a pair of black sunglasses from his purse and delicately placed them on his nose.

In his head, he sang along to the elevator’s tune until it stopped in the lobby. He pushed himself off the wall and followed after Ivy. While Ivy went to get the car, Sun Fang paced along the sidewalk, his frown growing bigger by the minute.

Was he sad? He couldn’t tell.

Ivy rolled up with the car and Sun Fang stepped in. ”Are you sure it’s fine, us just coming in like this?”

”You made a generous donation to the class which will allow the teacher to buy new equipment, so they agreed to let you use it whenever you want,” Ivy blandly answered.

Sun Fang frowned, ”I didn’t—” Ivy looked at him through the rearview mirror. Sun Fang smiled and said, quietly, ”Thank you, Ivy.”

Ivy looked back at the road without saying anything more.

They soon arrived at the pottery class’s building. Sun Fang entered first, without waiting for Ivy to find a parking space for the car. It was a beautiful day and they weren’t far from a gigantic pool complex; the parking lots around were all full to the brim. It would take Ivy quite a while to find an empty spot and in the meantime, Sun Fang could start doing pottery.

He hadn’t gone to a class since he left to visit Mianmian, he remembered as he walked through the long, twisting hallways. He went up to the correct floor, humming an elevator tune under his breath, ignoring the few other people around. None of them greeted him either, anyway.

At the class’s door, he put in the code that Ivy provided him. The door opened easily below his hands, swinging wide open seamlessly. Sun Fang’s lips twitched and he stepped inside, letting the door quietly close behind him. He closed his eyes. Breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of clay and paint that permeated the wide room.

Then he shook off the melancholy and pulled on an apron, ready to get to work.

Ivy found him sitting in front of a quickly spinning plate, delicately forming clay in between his two hands, about fifteen minutes later. It walked in silently, so as to not disturb him, and pulled up a chair to sit down next to him. It didn’t have to do that—Ivy didn’t have muscles that would tire from standing too long. 

Sun Fang smiled. He moved his chair a little to the side, scooting it over with his feet since he couldn’t use his hands, to give Ivy a better view. ”Like it?” he asked, a teasing note to his voice. His smile widened.

”I like anything Young Master creates,” Ivy answered flatly. 

Sun Fang snorted, his smile widening further, the skin around his eyes creasing. ”Really?” He drawled, casting Ivy a quick glance.

”Really,” Ivy said. 

FantasyDeath

lol, I forgot