Let Me Ruffle Your Fur a Little

It’s three in the morning. Bai Yao has been rolling around in bed, unable to fall asleep.

He managed to keep himself busy through the day, but now, lying silently in bed, he realises how terribly lonely it feels.

He’s never felt this bad about this bed before. It feels too hard on this side, but roll around and it’s far too soft. He just feels off no matter how he sleeps. It’s quiet enough about to hear his own heartbeat.

Bai Yao knows exactly why he’s feeling awkward – there is one less person in bed.

He’s already become used to sleeping with a little sea otter at night, holding his little hand while they sleep, listening to his soft breaths.

Who knows how long it’ll take for him to wean off the habit. He doesn’t even know if he could even do that successfully.

Bai Yao cannot remember how he lived before Mu Mu’er arrived.

He’s always been territorial. His bed is his own. Yet, when a pitiful little sea otter can’t fall asleep without holding hands, the territoriality fades far away into the distance.

The little sea otter is happy to hold hands with a snow leopard, and curl up in his lap to sleep every night. Over time, he’s completely eroded whatever fangs the snow leopard had, regardless of what the snow leopard thought.

Little thieving sea otter.

It’s odd. Bai Yao has been living here for five years. Mu Mu’er has been here for two months. Even so, the two months felt more than twice as long as his solo stay in town. It’s like that’s the natural state of how it should be. Mu Mu’er has always been living here, that’s how it is.

Now, there is another person who loves Mu Mu’er here, who wants to see him achieve his best. Great. He should be really happy.

Bai Yao tells himself that, but he still can’t help but recall Mu Mu’er’s form – all of his forms.

A Mu Mu’er in overalls, thanking him for prying open a scallop; looking for his little seashells he hid all over the house; a little, furry sea otter, enjoying a bath inside an inflatable pool.

Mu Mu’er must come to find all these pastime tedious eventually. Instead of waiting for that eventuality and seeing him head off to the city with Mu Yi, it would be far easier to separate before Mu Mu’er is rooted deep into Qiaohai. It’s less taxing on everyone involved.

Bai Yao is a very busy owner of a restaurant. Too busy to accompany Mu Mu’er at all times. At least, when he goes to live with Mu Yi, he will be able to enjoy the guardianship of his family.

Mu Mu’er does have his condition. Perhaps he’ll recover soon enough, maybe he’d forget about Bai Yao after two days or three.

That’s for the best.

It was a nice meeting that he does not regret. Now Mu Mu’er has to depart, and it simply means their time together is at an end.

He continues telling himself this is all for Mu Mu’er’s sake. He tells himself over and over again, until he could be convinced.

Yet…
The regret does not fade.

He regrets it.
He does.

Another half an hour later, he is not sleepy, but he does find himself dizzy. He leaves the bedroom, and instead takes a seat on the sofa. He might sit until the sun rises, or fall asleep on there before then.

He does not turn on the lights, but does open a gap in the window to allow for the cigarette smoke to dissipate. He himself is still completely mired in the wafting smoke, however, as he counts the seconds passing.

There are no more frogs croaking or cicadas chirping outside at this point. The only sound around is the minute hand of the clock occasionally moving a step over.

Very soon, the ashtray becomes filled with cigarette butts again. Bai Yao grabs a book from his bookshelf to distract himself, but his state of mind means he is unable to discern a single character on the page. He reads a single sentence thrice without being able to process what it conveys.

Is Mu Mu’er asleep yet? He wasn’t able to return tonight. Is he saddened? Disappointed?

His hands… maybe, there will be no one there to hold his hands with him anymore, from now on.

Close to four in the morning, a thunderstorm has rolled in. There is rain and howling wind. Bai Yao gets up to open the windows, ignoring the water flying straight into the living room. Maybe the sound of rain could help him sleep, he thinks.

After sitting back down on the sofa, though, he suddenly hears a few bangs from downstairs. The door? Or is it merely the rain?

The doorbell rings.

Bai Yao is still unsure if his sleep-deprived mind is playing tricks on him, when the doorbell rings again after a minute, for slightly longer – over five seconds total.

He stands up, and perks up his ears to listen closely to what is happening. The rain is still getting bigger, but his sharp hearing picks up what sounds like shuffling footsteps besides.

Where he stands does not allow him to see through the veranda to the entrance downstairs. He can only see the empty back garden and part of the street outside. He furrows his brows, and falls into thought.

There is someone outside. He can only think of one single person that might come knocking in the dead of night. There is a slight hope rising through his mind, but he makes sure to suppress it well.

Nothing can be more terrible than losing hope quite so soon after acquiring it, after all.

Blanking out his mind as he walks downstairs, Bai Yao still can’t help but take a deep breath as he puts his hand on the door handle.

He opens the door. As the person standing outside comes into view, Bai Yao finds his heartbeat rapidly increasing.

It’s the little sea otter outside, whom he’s been thinking about all day long, standing there under the veranda.