DIFFERENT WORLD

Chapter 3: SIMPLE TOUCH

Chapter
III
Simple Touch

***

Being the God of Death is a full time job. Clichés such as 'Death never sleeps' and 'Death waits for no man's certainly applied, and as a result, there wasn't much downtime. But when there was, many of Zhang Qi Ling's colleagues found a place that they could go, a flower-filled conservatory, a quiet, fog-filled moor, or a snowy mountaintop, where they could stay until the next round of collections.

Zhang Qi Ling hadn't really settled on one place. He went where he wanted to go and stayed where he wanted to stayed until he needed to get back to work.

That was, until Wu Xie refused to give up his life.

Now, whenever Zhang Qi Ling had a moment, he could be found in the Wu's residence. He stood in the shadows and watched Wu Yi Qiong mourn the death of his wife. He watched him sob and pray and beg and then stumble into the nursery when his newborn son started to cry.

Zhang Qi Ling watched, with his fists clinched at his sides, while the dark brown haired man stood over his son's crib and cursed the red-faced child, blaming him for his mother's death, wishing he were the one who had died instead. But moments later, the proud man would scoop the baby up, holding him against his chest while his legs gave out and he slipped to the floor. He listened while Wu Yi Qiong apologized to Wu Xie—I didn't mean it, I- I'm so sorry—holding him gently, rocking and rocking, while he told his son how much he loved him, how much his mother loved him... how they would be okay.

Zhang Qi Ling wondered many times, in the months that followed, what Wu Yi Qiong would have done had things gone the way they were scripted. What would he have done had he lost both his wife and child that day? Wu Yi Qiong had no idea how lucky he was to have that precious little boy. He had no idea the gift Wu Xie had given him in his first moments of life.

As Wu Xie grew, Zhang Qi Ling's urge to touch the baby was like a never-ending itch. He told himself that he wanted to make sure that this wasn't all a mistake and that Wu Xie had actually, if not impossibly, fought him off. That the tingling he still felt in his fingers since Wu Xie's birth was real. But, when Wu Yi Qiong gathered the boy into his arms, swung him over his head until giggles echoed throughout their house, or wiped away Wu Xie's tears, soothing away his pain, Zhang Qi Ling knew it was about more than proving a point.

Zhang Qi Ling was used to living without the comfort of simple touch. Anytime he touched someone, they died, but not Wu Xie. Wu Xie was special, unique, and Zhang Qi Ling couldn't forget how it felt to touch the little boy even when he told himself he'd never touch him again.

And so, Zhang Qi Ling watched his little oddity grow and the whole time, Wu Xie watched him back.

There was no denying it. Wu Xie could see him. He would flash a toothless, drool-filled and disgustingly adorable smile whenever Zhang Qi Ling appeared before him. He clapped and squawked in a language Zhang Qi Ling didn't understand but that couldn't stop the small smile that came to his lips whenever he heard it.

Wu Xie crawled for the first time when he was six months old. Wu Yi Qiong sat on the floor and, out of pure coincidence, Zhang Qi Ling appeared just as the little boy pushed himself up on his hands and knees and made his first jerky attempts at movement.

"Come on, Xiao Xie, you can do it," Wu Yi Qiong encouraged and Wu Xie sucked on his lower lip in concentration before moving forward. Zhang Qi Ling stepped around from behind Wu Xie and kneeled next to Wu Yi Qiong, wanted to see the look on the baby's face, to be part of his triumph.

Wu Xie froze for a moment before a huge smile... Zhang Qi Ling's barely smile... covered his face and he scuttled across the floor, straight for the shocked, dark-haired god, ignoring his father all together.

The baby stopped just within reach, and Zhang Qi Ling held his breath. One chubby hand reached out, struggling to touch Zhang Qi Ling, and Zhang Qi Ling couldn't move. He didn't want to. Finally...

"Hey, Xiao Xie," Wu Yi Qiong smiled, "Wrong direction." And without another word, Wu Xie was scooped up and snuggled against Wu Yi Qiong's chest.

Wu Xie nuzzled into his father's shirt, dark brown wisps of hair pushed up in every direction, but his brown eyes never left Zhang Qi Ling and his small fingers still stretched out for him. His lower lip trembled and the softest whimper escaped.

Zhang Qi Ling reached out, his own hand moving in slow motion, unsure, but unable to stop. Wu Xie squirmed, reaching and stretching, fretting in his struggle, until finally, tiny fingers met his own finger.

It couldn't have been longer than couple of seconds, but Zhang Qi Ling couldn't move. Wu Xie's small fingers latched onto his own and he told himself he was killing the baby, collecting his soul, but he couldn't move... it was impossible... why now?

"Did you fell a sleep, Xiao Xie?" Wu Yi Qiong spoke with a smile into Wu Xie's crown when the child's head fell softly against his chest. "Xiao Xie?" He pulled the baby away from him and his son's small body fell limply forward, his lips blue. Panicked, Wu Yi Qiong stood, yelling, "Wu Xie!"

The movement yanked Zhang Qi Ling's finger free of Wu Xie's small grasp and immediately the baby drew in a desperate breath only to release it with a mournful, weak cry. His tiny lips still held a tinge of blue as Wu Yi Qiong rushed toward the front door, grabbing his keys and Wu Xie's coat before bolting out of the house to his car.

Zhang Qi Ling stood in the living room, long minutes after he heard the car tearing down the driveway, and pictured Wu Xie, struggling to breathe, his small chest failing to rise more often than not, but still reaching longingly toward the thing killing him.

Zhang Qi Ling didn't come back for months.

***
To be continue...