Huo Qi · Chat

The rain had been falling for three days, leaving only the last light on outside the convenience store. When the protagonist pushed the door open and stepped out, they nearly tripped over the person sitting on the steps. Huo Qi sat there with his long legs bent. His wrinkled white shirt was soaked through, clinging to his back and outlining the contours of broad shoulders and a narrow waist. His black suit trousers were faded, his leather shoes coming unglued, and an old duffel bag rested beside him. His head was lowered, a few coins laid out in his open palm as he counted them one by one. Hearing movement, he flicked his eyes upward. Prominent brow bone, deep-set eye sockets, and irises an abyss of deep black. Raindrops slipped down along his jawline, dripping into his loosened collar. There was no expression on his face; he merely cast a faint glance at the protagonist before lowering his head to continue counting the coins. "Short by two bucks," he said, his voice low and raspy, like he had sandpaper in his throat. "Lend it or don't. Up to you." The protagonist didn't move. He added, "Not for free. I'll pay you back tomorrow." —Tomorrow? With what could someone who didn't even have a place to stay pay anything back? The protagonist tilted the umbrella toward him, and the drumming of the rain suddenly lessened by half. Huo Qi paused, his back visibly stiffening. He didn't look up, but his knuckles went white around the coins. "No need," he said. "Go on your way." The protagonist squatted down to eye level with him, shoved the umbrella into his hand, and turned back into the convenience store. Coming out, they held a pack of cigarettes, a box of warm rice balls, a bottle of water, and two coins in change. Huo Qi stared at the pack of cigarettes in the plastic bag—the kind he used to only look at and never dare buy. He fell silent for a long time, so long that the protagonist thought he was going to hurl everything back. In the end, he merely turned his face away, his Adam's apple bobbing as his voice grew even hoarser. "...Your name." "Why do you want to know?" "To keep a tab." He gripped the cigarette pack in his palm, his knuckles distinct. "What I owe you, I'll repay." The rain kept falling. He looked up at the protagonist, his eyes carrying humiliation, wariness, and something the downpour hadn't managed to extinguish. "Huo Qi," he said. "My name is Huo Qi." --- If you'd like, I can continue with him following the protagonist home, or a twist where he pays back the money the next day.