Yixing ran.

He’d found an old, beaten path behind his house, one that looked like it hadn’t been used in years, and had decided on a whim to run down it. The path itself was strewn with leaves and twigs and the sun streamed down through the foliage, sending golden streaks of light that mottled across Yixing’s skin as he ran, a cry of exhilaration building in his throat.

He’d gotten used to living in the city. But here, where the air was fresh and the leaves crunched underfoot, he felt more alive than he had in months.

Perhaps change is good every once in a while, he thought when he finally slowed to catch his breath. He still hadn’t reached the end of the path. It curved in a few places, giving Yixing the feeling that he was walking in circles, but he didn’t care. He didn’t even care that he might have possibly left his backdoor unlocked, because the sky was such a clear blue and the air was filled with the smell of nature and Yixing felt amazing.

When the path ended rather abruptly, Yixing was surprised to find himself emerging next to a paved road. Curious, he followed it, excited at the prospect of adventure. 

After years of living in Changsha, the country felt like a relief. The city had its pros, of course: the vast number of people who were always overflowing with passion and inspiration, the lights that lit up the sky at night, the ease with which it took to get places. 

In this small town, however, the air was clear and Yixing felt like he could finally breathe. He could see the stars at night, could hear the sounds of nature outside his windows, and Yixing woke up every morning feeling refreshed, as if the smog of the city had been a weight on his back that lessened when he found himself in an area with fewer skyscrapers.

He slept with his windows open and thought about staying there forever.

The paved road he’d emerged by led him into the more populated area of town. Since Yixing hadn’t gotten much of a chance yet to expmore, he decided now was as good a time as any. 

There were a few grocery stories in the area, along with a well-kept library and even a little movie theater. It was quaint; tiny and insignificant next to the one Yixing used to frequent in Changsha, but that was what made it so cute in his mind. He almost wanted to walk in just to see what it looked like on the inside, but he hesitated when he saw a somewhat familiar face not far away.

“Wufan!” he exclaimed.

The tall, Chinese-Canadian paused in what he was doing and glanced up at Yixing, a small smile lighting up his face. “Ah, hey, Yixing. Long time no see.”

“It’s only been a few weeks,” Yixing said with a grin, jogging over so he didn’t have to shout. “What’re you doing?”

“Setting up my ramen stand for the day.” Wufan gestured towards the cart behind him and Yixing grinned. When they’d first met on the plane from China to Korea, Wufan had expressed his desire to open a ramen stand. Of course, ramen stands weren’t very popular in Korea, but Wufan’s looked inviting nonetheless. 

“Is business good?” Yixing wondered.

“Oddly so. I’ve even managed to gain a few regulars from the locals.”

“Really? Wow.”

Wufan smiled. “What about you? How’s your garden?”

“Still growing. I should be able to start selling my produce soon enough.”

“That’s good.” Wufan smiled and Yixing returned it. The Chinese-Canadian man had seemed somewhat down when they’d first met; the fact that he was more upbeat now was enough to make Yixing happy.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to your work, Wufan. I’m in the middle of exploring.” Yixing gave him a mock salute. “I’ll make sure to come by and try your ramen soon, okay?”

“That would be much appreciated.”

Yixing left with a smile and an added spring to his step. He loved talking to people. It was just so exhilarating. He hadn’t even realized that he and Wufan had been speaking in Korean; it had become so normal for Yixing now, so second nature, that he didn’t think about it most of the time.

He headed down the street without any set destination, gawking a little at everything he saw. In particular he zoned in on the library he’d noticed before. It was tiny and kind of squat, but it looked to be in good condition. Wondering if it was the same on the inside, Yixing headed up the staircase, a little daunted by the huge double doors that served as the entrance.

Inside it was a bit less overwhelming.

It had the normal carpet and fluorescent lighting that most libraries seemed to have, accompanied by rows and rows of books set in hardwood shelves. The walls were decorated with locally-done art pieces here and there, and the paint was a soft, calming color of green that matched the carpet. A desk next to the entrance marked where people went to check books in and out, populated only by a male with dark hair and dark eyes. He had his feet propped up on the desk, a book in his hands, but the moment he saw Yixing he jumped to his feet.

“Welcome to the library,” he gasped out, obviously embarrassed at being caught slacking on the job. “Do you need help with anything?” 

Yixing smiled. “No, thank you. You may go back to your book. I’m just going to look around.”

The boy flushed, muttering his thanks as he sat back down, and Yixing wondered if he was foreign, too. He certainly didn’t look Korean. Brushing off those thoughts, Yixing wandered around for a little while, visiting all the different sections and glancing at books here and there. He found a few interesting ones and decided to get a library card.

“Those are due back in two weeks,” the boy at the front said after he checked the books out. He had a nametag on his shirt that read Huang Zitao. Not Korean at all.

“Are you Chinese?” Yixing wondered.

The boy nodded hesitantly. 

“Me too!” Yixing exclaimed, only to cringe when he remembered he was in a library. “Sorry. I mean, me too. My name is Zhang Yixing. I just moved here from Changsha a few weeks ago.”

Zitao managed a small smile. “I’m originally from QingDao.”

“Ahh, QingDao. Then you’re a city-goer, just like me. What’s it like for you living out here in the country?”

“Peaceful.”

Yixing nodded. “I agree. I’m enjoying it a lot more than I thought I would. It’s a nice change from the noise and bustle of the city.”

“Exactly,” Zitao said.

Yixing took his books and grinned. “I’ll let you get back to your reading, Zitao. It was nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Zitao said as Yixing left.

Outside, the sun had started to set, dissipiating the heat from the day and leaving Yixing feeling comfortable and refreshed. It wasn’t chilly, per se, just a lot less hot, and Yixing reveled in it. He’d never been one for heat anyway.

A tall redheaded boy riding a bike stopped in front of the library’s steps just as Yixing was descending them. He had what looked like a newspaper in his hand, but he frowned when he saw Yixing.

“Hey, you!” he called.

Yixing froze, pointing to himself.

The redhead grinned. “Yes, you! Mind moving a little to your right?”

Confused, Yixing did so. Once he’d moved, the redhead wound up and threw the newspaper he’d been holding, watching as it sailed over the steps to hit the library’s front door. With the deed done, he offered Yixing a salute and rode off down the street. 

Yixing watched him go. Is that how they deliver mail here?

Clutching his recently-borrowed books tightly to his chest, Yixing just shrugged off the encounter and continued down the street, loving the easygoing feel of the place. Everyone seemed so happy and peaceful. Yixing wondered why he’d never visited the country before.

As he walked, he ended up catching random snippets of conversations here and there. Most of them were just people talking about the re-opening of the local beach and the students who’d graduated that year; nothing really out of the ordinary.

“I nearly got hit by Chanyeol on his stupid bike,” someone said as Yixing passed by, garnering his attention. “Why they ever hired him as a mailman is beyond me.”

Yixing paused, glancing at the one who’d spoken. He was a shorter male with wide eyes and dark hair talking to two others: another, taller male with dark hair too, and an even taller male with blond hair. The blond rolled his eyes at this and sighed.

“Chanyeol is insane.”

“Excuse me,” Yixing said, “Sorry to interrupt. You’re not possibly talking about a tall redhead riding a bike and delivering mail, are you?”

The shortest of the three nodded, offering a friendly smile. “Yeah, that’s Chanyeol. Why? Did you nearly get hit by him too?”

“Not with his bike, no. But he did almost throw a newspaper at me.”

He laughed. “That’s Chanyeol for you.”

“Hey, aren’t you that guy who recently moved into that old house on the edge of the market?” the blond male asked. “Your name is Yi-something, right?”

Yixing smiled. “Yixing. Zhang Yixing. And yeah, that’s me.”

“Ooooh,” the blond grinned. “You know you’re living in a haunted house, right?”

The shortest one sighed. “Don’t listen to him,” he said to Yixing. “He’s just stupid. Anyway, I’m Do Kyungsoo. This is Kim Jongin and Oh Sehun. How long have you been living here?”

“Just a few weeks,” Yixing said, “But I’ve been spending most of that time unpacking and settling in. This is really the first good look I’ve gotten at the town.”

“Need an ?” Kyungsoo offered. “We can show you all the best restaraunts and hang-outs.”

“No, thanks. I’m fine. In fact, I’m just about to head home.”

“I see.” Kyungsoo nodded, his smile friendly. Yixing wondered how a town full of such nice people could actually exist. “Well, it was nice meeting you, then. I hope we see you around again.”

Yixing waved goodbye as he headed back in the opposite direction, toward his house. He would’ve preferred to stay and look around some more, but with the sky darkening so rapidly, he figured it would probably be best to just call it a day and continue his exploration later.

A sense of nostalgia hit him when he got back to his house. He’d only ever visited his grandparents a few times when he was younger—not enough to remember the house or the town well—but he missed them all the same. The house was still full of the smell of his grandmother’s particular fabric softener and the pipe tobacco his grandfather always used to smoke.

Sighing a bit, Yixing made a cup of tea and sat out on his porch. The sun had already set and a soft breeze blew through the trees, disturbing the wind chimes his grandmother had hung up above the house’s front steps. This kind of peace was nonexistent in the city.

Yixing drank his tea and decided to stay.


 

a/n: this chapter is a little shorter than the other, but it's more
of just another introductory chapter than anything actually happening.