Heal These Battle Scars | MxM

Chapter Thirteen - Lu Ba At Night

The longer Xiao Fang stared at his reflection, the more he convinced himself that the man staring back at him through the crooked mirror hanging in Commander Wang's tiny bathroom sink was not him. Though distressed patches littered the small mirror, blurring most of what he could see, he firmly believed — swore to the heavens and down to the depths of hell, that the man in the mirror must've been an imposter.

True, it had been months since he last glanced at a mirror, and changes were bound to happen. But before he joined the war, he was a handsomely beautiful young man. Consistently well-dressed, his skin was always smooth and scented, and shining.

Now, his hair — brittle and charred, had grown out so much, another week it would reach to his neck. Not to mention, he lost so much weight. He was practically bones from having one meal a day — occasionally two meals whenever he was around Commander Wang. There were countless pinpricks from the sun and tiny scratches from being tossed around, all littering his face, neck — shoulders, and arms. Skin tanned — eyes shrunken. Heavens, he was practically unrecognizable. A homeless himbo. What man would desire him now?

Xiao Fang sighed, ruffling the water from his freshly washed hair.

Since Zichen urged him to watch the deaths of the soldiers from the nationalist military, he walked around feeling hollow, and purposeless.

He did not bother to burden his comrades with the news of what happened that day, worried that they would most likely fear for their lives, or do something foolish. Still, it bothered him that none cared enough to ask him why he frowned so much. Jie Yu did not ask — neither did anyone notice. He must have hidden it exceptionally well.

Though Commander Wang never brought up what happened that night, never mentioning the intimate way he held Xiao Fang, smoothed his fingers through Xiao Fang's hair to calm his uncontrollable weeping, the commander pitied him. Xiao Fang did not like being pitied.

Wang Yi gave him extra food, more potatoes, and snapper fish the soldiers caught from the creek. Imported liquor the night before last. Clean clothes. Fresh bath. Yi cared enough. No man had ever tended to him in such a manner. It felt foreign, strange. It felt right and wrong — safe and wholesome.

Now, he feared he was experiencing feelings for Yi. The type one felt when they were falling in love. this, whatever it was, could not be love though.

Perhaps infatuation, but never love.

With such twisted thoughts, Xiao Fang would laugh if his lips did not feel as though someone had permanently stitched them into a frown.

A knock on the door startled him back to reality.

"Xiao Fang, are you done?" Yi called out. "Is something the matter? Xiao Fang?"

Yi continued, banging on the door as though worried Xiao Fang might do something foolish.

"Wait, I'm almost done," Xiao Fang answered, smoothing out the wrinkled collared long-sleeve, grey dress shirt Yi gave him earlier. It was the nicest thing he'd worn in ages. "Give me a minute."

"Alright," Yi answered from the other side, voice husky; tired. "Hurry up. I want to talk to you."

"Oh... Okay," Xiao Fang swallowed, hoping it was not more bad news. His heart could not handle it anymore because it might break, and he would die.

++++++++++

Thankfully, it was not bad news.

It was not terrible news either.

At least, the twinkling in Yi's youthful eyes when he poured Xiao Fang another generous cup of sage tea, urging him to drink up before it got cold, gave the medic's soldier enough closure.