Work Text:
The small bell rings.
“Class dismissed.”
Children start to pack up their things getting ready for home. Those who have done them beforehand have already stood up and left. Some would snicker while passing by a corner where a boy wearing a dunce hat sits on a stool.
Their advisor, in the meantime, sits on her creaking wooden chair as she writes down her logbook. While her focus is on the upcoming lessons for tomorrow’s class, the lone boy takes this as an opportunity.
As he keeps his eyes on the older woman, he slowly steps down from where he is seated. His loafer shoes land on the wooden floor with silent ease. Thinking that his teacher hasn’t noticed him just yet, he turns around and sprints-
“And where are you going, Ajax?”
-back to his stool…
Darn old hag and her stupid keen senses. She was definitely using witchcraft, Ajax thinks.
“Nowhere, Ms. Victoria…” The boy answers begrudgingly. He tugs on the strap of his dunce hat with a snap, unbothered with the sting it gives him. Its sound echoes and fades, giving way to the scritch-scratching of pen on paper.
Ajax waits as time ticks, swinging his legs back and forth. His boredom grows by the minute, and he is already coming up with a plan to turn this stool into an actual swing. Whatever happens by then, he’ll make sure to savor it with a big smug grin in front of every single faculty who has witnessed it.
It’s what they deserve, he thinks, after making him put on this stupid hat.
He snaps the strap once more.
“Enough of that.” The hag scolds him, then sighs in irritation. She continues her writing. “Any more of that and I’ll send you straight to Headmaster Pegg.”
The boy visibly winces. Right.
The last time he was sent to the headmaster’s office was due to some snotty teacher’s pet doing a snitch. There was a fight involved between a classmate of his and an older kid. Either out of heroism or mere instinct to dive into trouble, he punched a tooth out of the bully. And then some because the kid insulted his mum. By the time the adults arrived, the boy’s face was bruised, bloody, and unconscious. Even if he tried to explain himself, he was only given a harsh beating.
No one at that time tried to back him up. Not even the kid he was trying to save.
He remembered the overwhelming pain he felt on his backside. He had most trouble in sitting down on his seat so all he could do was squat half of the time. The wounds subsided after applying healing balm for a week.
He also remembered the humiliation he experienced once he went back home. His parents had heard it all. Neither of them tried to listen to his side of the story. Instead, mum went straight to the kitchen, leaving him and his dad alone in the foyer.
SLAP
The stinging heat on his cheek.
“You’re an embarrassment, boy.”
A contrast to father’s cold, rigid glare.
He leaves the house, and Ajax goes to the kitchen.
He sees mother preparing for dinner.
He reaches out to her.
“…Mama-”
“Not now, son.”
She leaves the kitchen.
His chest feels numb.
Something grows on his hand.
Red like that of old, dried-up blood. Its many petals soft as he grasps onto it.
He doesn’t know what species it is.
He doubts anyone will tell him.
He clenches his hand to a fist, crumpling the flower within.
“Ajax.”
His mind jerks back to the present. He realizes he has been staring at his hand for quite some time now. It’s empty, he notes, with a phantom pain in the center.
“Your punishment ended five minutes ago. You’re free to leave.” Ms. Victoria says in a dismissive tone, not once looking at the boy’s direction.
Ajax has lost the energy to say anything back to her. His memories made him languid, dazed. He places his hat on the stool and exits the classroom quietly, his head still in his own thoughts.
That weird flower must’ve been somewhere in a ditch by now.
And it’s weird in its own right because that’s the first time a flower of that kind grew on him. But definitely not the first time a flower bloomed on his skin. His grandmother said that it’s normal for him to have this kind of condition. Take it as a blessing, she once said. But didn’t really explain how he got it though.
Sadness greets Ajax whenever he remembers her. She passed away before he could even get to know her better. But after seeing such a kind smile gracing upon him, he thinks she and Ajax would get along just fine.
If she were alive to this day, maybe she would explain to him about the meaning of this flower. He imagines her rambling all day about its history and symbolism. Ajax thinks he wouldn’t mind that one bit. When she speaks of something so trivial, it’ll probably be like regaling him a tale of a legendary warrior. She’ll make it so grand that he couldn’t help himself but get hooked on the story. He’ll be asking tons of questions about why is this and how is that. It’ll be endless. And Ajax thinks she wouldn’t mind.
Maybe by then, he wouldn’t feel as lonely as he is in his own home.
…
Ajax misses her.
Or, more accurately, the idea of her.
He sighs. Maybe Ajax shouldn’t put such expectations on his late grandmother. He has to remind himself that not a single relative in his family is he ever close with. Not even his own parents.
So maybe either way, she wouldn’t put up with him as much as he expected her to.
Ah, the thought sullied his mood.
Gasp
Ajax whips his head to the sound.
A boy sits by on a swing with his face stuffed in his book, reading idly. He looks to be around two years older than Ajax. Eight? Ten? He isn’t certain. Numbers aren’t his strongest suit after all, which inevitably led to today’s punishment. But that’s not what mattered right now.
This kid was definitely staring at him before Ajax could even catch him in the act.
He furrows his eyebrows.
Wasn’t there a common courtesy to not stare because it’s rude?
Does he want to pick a fight or what?
He would be down for it for sure. Besides, he already has an alibi for anyone who cares enough to listen. That, and he needs a distraction.
Before Ajax could even shout out a challenge to his potential opponent of the day, something droops in front of his face.
Tiny white bell-shaped flowers all wilted from one stem.
When he attempts to pull it off, Ajax feels a nip to his scalp.
…
Huh?
No way.
No way did it grow while Ajax is literally in the middle of an open space. For anyone to see.
His panicked eyes ran back to the boy who must’ve seen it the whole time Ajax was daydreaming. And this guy didn’t even warn him!?
(It’s a good thing the other didn’t laugh though…)
“You!!” Ajax points at him, his ears all red that probably came from the heat of the sun most likely.
(If he were calmer in this scenario, he would’ve laughed at the older boy who jumped and squeaked in surprise by his sudden squawking.)
He cannot think straight at this (very embarrassing) moment, but he knows he has to make it clear to this kid, “You did NOT see anything just now, you hear me!?”
The haze of humiliation clears up a bit for Ajax to see wide amber eyes looking back at him.
(The color then glows once the sunlight filters through branches and leaves above him. The young tree that which blooms of yellow acacia sways with the gentle breeze as petals ride alongside the winds. The light and the shade blend the scenery to an ethereal portrait of a boy with eyes glowing golden.)
He couldn’t come up with a reason to why the rest of his face feels hotter than before. His palms are sweaty, and his throat feels dry and he still doesn’t know why. He doesn’t understand any of what’s happening, not when the loud beating of his heart is the only thing he could hear at this moment.
The silence between them is suffocating.
So, Ajax does the best thing he can do.
Letting out a mini tantrum.
He stomps his foot once or twice and pulls out the flower off of his head. Pretending it is some kind of pebble, he throws it to where the golden-eyed boy is and dashes away.
Ajax ignores the small flow of blood trickling down from his forehead to his cheeks that puff up in red hues.
He doesn’t look back on the multiple spikes of purple and pink flowers growing on where Ajax initially stood. All slowly bloom towards the direction of where the amber-eyed boy sits. They gradually halt before the boy’s feet.
The last to bloom is one that is nearest to him, but different of species it seems. Its stem holds onto many of its small purple flowers. It leans towards the boy timidly as if permitting him to pick it among the sea of petals.
If only Ajax was here to witness.
But alas.
Only the lone lilac will see golden amber eyes fill with recognition with his cheeks and ears blossom to a shade of pink and red.
Today is another day.
Sir Albert rambles on about today’s lecture with quite the enthusiasm. The samples he has shown are of works done by Miss Barbara, the headmaster’s youngest daughter. This is no surprise to those who have been under him for the past two or three years. After all, he is known to loudly boast of her achievements even if they had nothing to do with the lessons for the week. A creep, many of them would say, but one of the teachers who don’t usually give you a spanking or two. That is if you don’t dare insult the idol of his dreams.
Ajax would, given that he has a knack for making adults lose their cool just by standing in front of them. But he refrains doing so since he knows Miss Barbara is a rare gem, one who defends children from demons like her dad. Sometimes, he wonders how they are related.
He remembers attempting to skip class only to hear an argument echoing in the halls. His curiosity got the better of him, so he followed the path towards the headmaster’s office. Before he could even take a peek, Miss Barbara burst through the door with a sobbing boy in tow.
Then there was that look of surprise when she noticed Ajax, which then morphed into one of remorse.
“Sorry,” she spoke to him. “I have forgotten that the walls are thin here.”
Her pause gave way to sniffles from the boy who held onto her hand like a lifeline. His other hand clutched tightly on to…
Oh.
Those were strands of hair.
Miss Victoria did announce of a new policy.
As well as the underlying threat if they didn’t get the proper haircut before the deadline.
Ajax could only pity the poor boy.
“What’s your name?” Miss Barbara asked.
“Ajax, miss.”
“Ajax…” She nodded, then gently coaxed the crying boy towards him, “…would it be alright if you escort him to his class? Just tell your teachers that Miss Barbara excused you two from tardiness. They’ll understand.”
He would never forget that kind smile as she placed the boy’s hand in his.
Then Miss Barbara excused herself, something about being needed elsewhere.
The grip on his hand tightened but the sniffling had stopped.
Ajax turned his head to look at the boy.
His hair was messily cut as if indicating an initial struggle. The glasses were cracked and fogged from the tears that were now dried up. He seemed to be a half inch taller than Ajax, but currently hunched over. It was like trying to make himself look small. That, or he wanted to tuck himself in a corner, not wanting to bother anybody.
…
That won’t do, Ajax thought.
He tugged the boy’s arm and started walking.
“…my classroom is this way…” whispered the boy behind him, confused as to where they were heading.
It didn’t take a while. Just simply taking a left turn on the second corner from the office and Ajax halted in his footsteps right in front of an open doorway.
“Miss Jilliana!”
The call of the name had the woman behind the desk be startled by the sudden volume.
“Ajax!” Miss Jilliana stood up abruptly and placed her hands on her hips. “Shouldn’t you be in class by this hour?”
Blue eyes crinkled in mischief as he stepped aside for his companion to be seen. “Skipped lunch” was all Ajax mentioned with his signature cheeky grin.
The woman could only sigh in exasperation as she brought out a basket filled with goodies to the table. “Don’t make this a habit now.” She withdrew from the basket two cheese sandwiches and some biscuits and placed them on her desk for the boys to peruse.
Ajax wordlessly handed a sandwich to the befuddled boy beside him. He shoved his own sandwich in his mouth to free a hand, as the other still held onto his companion’s. He then rummaged through his pockets and pulled out a few coins without even counting them.
Clink, clink
Coins clattered on the table and Ajax dragged the other off to the nearest exit.
Once they were outside, he searched for a place where there was shade. After a minute or two, he found the perfect spot where an oak tree stood and plopped himself on grass and dirt. Ajax leaned his back on its trunk and patted the empty space beside him.
“We should be returning to our classrooms…” murmured his bespectacled comrade. And yet he complied while munching away the rest of his sandwich.
“It hasn’t been fifteen minutes, you know.” Ajax huffed while eyeing a finch as it pecked away on the ground. “Besides, Miss Barbara has our backs so don’t worry about it. Just relax and eat up.”
The finch successfully found a few grains, tweeting profusely in a mini celebration.
“…I don’t understand.”
A pigeon landed beside the smaller bird and cocked its head at it.
“What is?” Ajax asked as he pulled a slingshot from one of his pockets, his free hand grasping the soil for pebbles.
Then it pecked the little finch’s head causing it to squeak out a cheep of surprise.
“All this. You don’t need to do any of this.”
The pesky pigeon continued to ruthlessly peck the head of the poor bird.
“I kinda want to, though.” He pulled the band with its bullet, aiming at his intended target.
The little finch desperately tried to hop away from the bully.
“But why?”
And yet the larger bird insisted on pecking some more while it crooned, as if to mock the smaller.
“Well…” He released the band.
Then the rock flawlessly smacked onto the pigeon’s head. Its feathered body now lied down with guts spilled from it.
The flinch flew away with its meal for the day.
Triumphant, he looked towards his comrade and said, “That’s because I’m a hero” with a large grin on his face.
The boy beside him was stunned.
He shifted his head to glance on the dead pigeon, and then to Ajax.
Then back to the corpse.
Then to Ajax again.
Then…
“…hawksbeard…?”
…the corners of his lips stretched with mirth.
“No, that’s a pigeon.” Ajax said, stating the obvious.
His companion exhaled a breath of amusement and shook his head. “I didn’t mean that.” He pointed at Ajax’s chin as the ghost of his smile remained.
Blue eyes blinked at him as Ajax lifted his hand to his face.
And felt a patch of…
“Did I just grow a beard?”
The boy shook his head once more, his smile stretching further as if he was going to burst at the seams.
“Hawksbeard,” he emphasized his correction. “They are flowers, Ajax. And they are growing on your face right now.” Then he covered a grin with a hand as his shoulders shook.
“Huh!?” Ajax pulled himself up abruptly to approach a window.
And lo and behold, his reflection revealed small yellow flowers on his chin as they expanded to his cheeks. From here, Ajax could see his eyes widened in panic.
He yelped, “No, no, no, no!” As he hurriedly removed every petal and leaf from his reddened face. Behind him were chimes of laughter, from no other than that ungrateful geek!
Once he assured that he rid himself of plants on his skin, he turned back to his companion who was currently in a fitful of giggles. Ajax glared at the boy, who in turn tried to muffle his voice as to not make the other’s face turn full tomato.
“If you want,” Another stifle, “I can tell you what they mean.”
“No thanks.” Ajax bluntly replied. “You can have them instead or whatever.” Then he dropped the torn flowers onto awaiting hands.
“And how would I ever repay you?” The other shamelessly grinned, as if inciting a challenge.
Ajax squinted at him. “Give me your name. That way I’ll get to curse you when those things stick at my face again.”
“Will you really?”
“Maybe. Just pray it won’t happen.”
“Alright then.” The boy stood up and brushed off the dust on his pants.
As he deemed it done and over, he stepped out of the shade with a confident gait.
“My name…”
The glaring rays of the sun reflected upon his glasses.
“…is Zhongli.”
Then passing clouds dimmed its light.
“It’s a pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Ajax.”
And the fog in those lenses faded to reveal-
Amber eyes.
They were the same color as the other guy.
The one who had been staring without Ajax knowing.
The one who witnessed him with flowers growing on his headtwice.
How can that be!?
Normally, you don’t meet someone with that kind of timing, right?
Not to mention those glowing eyes and all.
Was it sorcery?
The times he felt the heat rising up in his chest…
And the constant flip-flopping in his stomach…
That must be it!
Zhongli was definitely no ordinary kid if he can pull that off!
Is he some kind of wizard?
No, no. That’s like putting him in the same category as that old hag.
What is he then?
C’mon, Ajax. Think!
Zhongli is a…
He is a…
GASP
“HE IS A FAIRY!”
…
…
Ajax…
…really wants to dig himself a hole right now.
The whole class looked and stared at him as if he grew a second head (or maybe a flower, who knows).
And Sir Albert must’ve been disgruntled by this-
“CORRRRREECTT!!!”
Huh?
“Well done, Ajax! Didn’t expect a kid like you to actually pay attention.” Sir Albert then winks. “You got good taste, young man. The works of Miss Barbara are, after all, widely known to stand against what are considered the norm in this era. She is like a siren who swims against the impenetrable undertow despite its risks. She is the harpy who braves through the northern winds like it’s nothing! She is-”
At this point, the rambling turns to white noise. And everyone just looks away, most of them are glancing at the clock every so often.
In conclusion, no one really listens to Sir Albert’s lessons.
And neither did he notice Ajax sneaking off and out of the room.
As Ajax runs in the hallways whilst dodging students who are obstructing his path, he searches for Zhongli’s classroom.
Well, he doesn’t have fairy boy’s schedule, but Ajax might as well rely on past memories on where he last dropped the other off.
He sees a tuft of brown hair from a distance.
And he holds a familiar book in his arms.
Ajax calls out, “Zhongli!!” To which he sees the older turns to his direction.
At that moment, time seems to slow down…
…mine…
…as those amber eyes light up with a twinkle…
…be mine, Zhongli…
…then he greets Ajax with a blinding smile.
…
…
Ajax belatedly realized he should’ve beforehand done a full stop-!!
“Good morning, Aj-”
And crashed right into Zhongli.
The impact sends them tumbling down on the floor.
The book flies off, its pages spilling a scent of floral variety and a few dried petals.
Ajax doesn’t know if it’s the adrenaline rushing or the smell that causes his mind to spin.
He pants as he stumbles upon his words, “Need…Need to tell…you something!!”
Or maybe it’s because of his heart racing like, maybe miles per hour?
And why is Zhongli looking at him so serenely?
“Ajax!!”
Not now, darn old hag!!
He has to act fast before she could reach him!
“Zhongli, I-”
A hand blocks his hazy vision.
Ajax feels a pluck from his scalp.
Then the limb leaves his sight and returns to a tranquil view of Zhongli’s glowing amber eyes gazing with intrigue at the object he holds between his fingertips.
“A four-leaf clover,” Zhongli hums.
Ajax doesn’t know why.
He has so much to say but now, he finds himself to be at a loss for words.
And yet it feels like everything has been said and done.
And now he just has to wait.
Zhongli switches the hold to his left, his heart freezes.
Then Zhongli swaps it to his right, the pain melts away.
And when Zhongli returns the clover to him with that same hand, the warmth spreads from his chest, gradually rising up to his head.
No words were exchanged from thereon as Miss Victoria pulls Ajax away by the ear.
“What on earth has happened to your hair?”
His mind is already up in cloud nine.
And thus, Ajax did not answer.