Don't forget to mess around

To be completely honest, no, Míngzé didn’t want Sāng to lose a leg. “Perhaps.” That did not mean he had to be honest. He was happy he could trust his pokémon not to bite off his leg. That would be very inconvenient.

Sāng’s explanation made him nearly choke in his own saliva. That was not at all what he expected. It was not that he wanted to touch the other, but that he had to. It seemed like he had to spell it out. Trying to guide him to the right answer seemed pointless. “I’m blind, that’s it, that’s what you are missing,” he sighed and shook his head. Míngzé still couldn’t believe this. Maybe this was the moment where the other would finally break character and reveal that it was all one big joke. But probably not.

“If there is enough light, it’s better but in here I don’t see a thing. That’s why I asked for your help, otherwise I would bump into every chair, table and person,” he explained quickly with a hint of irritation. Then he gestured to the food, nearly hitting his own drink. “And that’s why I asked about the food.” Again he could feel his stomach complain.

Míngzé lost count of how often Sāng had surprised him that day. When the other spoke, he truly sounded concerned. Maybe it was better when the other did not know what was going on. Someone else's pity didn’t help him. “It’s not a big deal, really,” he said honestly. “Every bar has the same problem, some restaurants do too. Usually Qiān is here to help me, but I never bring him to class.” By now he was used to it. Navigating in the dark was nothing new. It was not easy, but for him it was normal.

The other got quieter, his enthusiasm fading. Even Míngzé noticed it and he couldn’t help but feel awkward. His hand found his drink again and he brought the straw to his mouth. He had to do something, otherwise the awkwardness might kill him. He drank too much at once, also forgetting Sāng’s earlier warning. The liquid burned his throat and chest. Immediately he started coughing uncontrollably. What was this? Why did people drink this? The taste was good, no complaints there, but for him it was very strong. Way to make an awkward situation more awkward.

This was so much worse than before, when all the other did was mock him. That was better, at least it meant he wasn’t threatening him any different. Now however, he felt sorry for him. Even asked if he was okay instead of laughing. “Fine,” he said with a dismissive wave. It was just some coughing, nothing serious.

His throat hurt slightly after all that couching, but the only thing he had that could ease the pain, was the cold beverage that nearly killed him. How he missed his iced tea. Meanwhile, Sāng started explaining to him what was on the table. Shrimp, bruschettas and sushi. It  sounded good, it smelled good, now all he had to do was taste it. “Can’t wait to try it.” Softly Míngzé couched again. Maybe if he took a smaller sip this time. The cold was pleasant and this time he managed to drink without—

—do you want me to feed you?

The drink went the wrong way and for a second time in less than five minutes Míngzé was coughing loudly. This time even worse. He leaned forward a bit, one arm resting on the table. “No,” he managed to growl through his coughing. Feed him? It was his eyes that were broken, not his hands!

“Just tell me— where it— is.” A few more coughs but it was getting better. Although his throat was hurting again. This guy— Just when he thought they could have a normal conversation while eating and drinking something. Sāng had to say something like this. Because of course he had to.  

Míngzé needed something cold, but all he had was a cocktail and he was afraid to drink even more. It tasted strong and he did not know how well he would react if he drank too much too fast. Already he could feel the faint warmth it left behind. He pushed the drink away from him before he would make the mistake of drinking again.

The good thing about all this was that Sāng now explained where everything was. Míngzé listened carefully, slowly nodding to let him know he understood. “Thank you.” With his plate in one hand and fork in the other, he leaned forward so that he could take a bit of everything. It did not go that fast because he did not want to make a mess, but he would also not ask for more help no matter how much he was struggling.

“It is, yeah, makes everything a bit easier. He is trained specifically for this, to help me with— all kinds of things really,,” he said with a shrug. There was so much that did not come natural to him. A lot of basic stuff most people never gave a second thought. “To be honest, I don’t think he’ll be able to beat your Mawile.” A small smile tugged at his lips. The pokémon could fight, but he was not very skilled.

He ate one of his sushi rolls, pleasantly surprised by the taste. “You weren’t lying, these are good.” Míngzé hadn’t realized just how hungry he was and quickly took another one.

The other mentioned he had never even met the Mawile, which was not true. He had shown her when they first met? Míngzé looked at the other in confusion. “Didn’t you—” he started but he never finished that sentence. The Mawile had been awfully quiet that evening. Maybe she was never even there. But then what did he show him? Míngzé had no idea but was not about to ask about it either. “I’ll remember that.” He rather didn’t get bitten by one of those things.

There was no denying that this chief was a good cook and he hummed in agreement. Then he tried the shrimp, which was also great. “Of course I can cook,” Míngzé said as if it was a stupid question. His skill might not compare to those of the Chief, but he was not bad. “I follow the recipe, Qiān gives me the ingredients. It’s not that difficult. Everyone can do it.” And he warned him if anything was about to go up in flames. It was a good thing he was also a water type. Fire didn’t stand a chance with him around.

He grabbed his drink again and drank. What could he do? He was thirsty and was not allowed to drink anything else. The taste was strong, but he actually liked it which made it even more tempting. “Damn, these are pretty strong, aren’t they,” Míngzé mentioned. Because everything that was going on around that time, he hadn’t heard Sāng’s warning about the drink.

This was all so stupid. If he was alone he would’ve hit himself for his stupidity. A pokémon could never be that quiet, especially not something like a Mawile. Sāng also mentioned pokéballs and Míngzé’s eyes shot up. Oh no, did he also come to the same realization? He sure hoped not. “And leave him in there for hours?” Míngzé shook his head. “I think he would rather stay home than be locked up in there.” Truth be told, he had no idea what the inside of a pokéball looked like, but it couldn’t be fun. He could honestly not remember the last time he had to put him in his ball.

Míngzé too quirked an eyebrow. “You can cook?” Even after saying everyone could do it, he was still surprised. He was probably just too quick to judge. “If they are normal recipe’s, then sure.” It reminded him for a moment of the fact that Sāng already had his phone number.

Was it him or was it getting warmer in here? Míngzé couldn’t be sure and he was not about to ask. The other noticed that he was not used to this and he clicked his tongue in response. “I know how to drink, it is not exactly rocket science,” he said, not wanting to admit that Sāng was right. Still, he pushed the glass farther away. He should probably slow down.

“What’s up with the hand? I could feel the bandage earlier.” Normally this was not a question he would ask. It was none of his business, but right now he was very curious.  

Being born in Cerynia meant he grew up with all their sayings and beliefs. While he did not think fighting was bad, he did not like pokéballs. In a way they were a small prison. Or maybe it was not too bad inside. The question that followed confused him, but Sāng quickly clarified what he meant. Míngzé kept his mouth shut for a short while. The question felt rather personal, more than all the previous ones. “I’ve spent years without him, it is only normal that he can't always be at my side,” he said without answering the question. Quickly he took another bite.

While he would not say it out loud, he was not having a bad time right now. That did not mean he fully trusted Sāng. Who knows what kind of recipes he would receive. “Is it better than his food?” This was very good and while Míngzé was not a bad cook, something like this was impossible.

But Sāng did not seem to believe him. He was perfectly capable of sipping from his drink. The glass he pushed back only seconds ago, was pulled closer again and he took the smallest sip possible. See? Easy.

Curiosity killed the Litten. Of course he wanted to know how Sāng’s hand got hurt. A curiosity he pushed aside on other days. He drank from his cocktail, only to quickly remind himself to sip and not drink. “Did a weight fall on it?” It was the first thing that popped up in his mind. If that was what happened, it must have seriously hurt. He would probably also need more than a simple bandage. Hm, that was probably not it. Míngzé ate his last sushi roll as he thought about it.

In truth, he hated how blind he was whenever Qiān wasn’t around. Míngzé knew nothing would catch him by surprise because the pokémon was there. He would see it for him. It made him feel vulnerable. But those things were way too personal. There was no reason for him to tell Sāng all that. “Besides, I have a cane if needed,” he added with a shrug. That stupid thing. He even had the thing with him now but how he loathed it.

Sāng’s food was not better than what they had now, but was close. He softly hummed. “Then I believe you.”If he’d told him it was better, he was only boasting. “Not gonna work again,” Míngzé said immediately, shaking his head visibly. “Before you know it that’s where we end up after this if I say yes.” Because Sāng would ask if he had something to do after dinner and everything else was history. He had places to be, and with places he meant home.

In silence he waited for Sāng to answer, but it took a while. He raised both eyebrows when he realized the other was probably doing some body language. That would not work and Sāng realized it too. Not a weight. Good, that must hurt so badly. The reason for the bandage was that it looked ugly and something for work. Míngzé hummed in agreement. When working with food you had to cover something like that. “Would be disgusting to touch too,” he added casually, but made a face at the mere thought. Disgusting was maybe not the nicest word. Whatever it was, he was glad to have touched a simple bandage and not whatever was underneath.

Míngzé wanted to take another bite, but found his plate empty when poking around. With his plate in his hand he leaned forward again to grab more. He noticed how his own coöridnating was off, but nothing major. It was simply a bit more difficult to get everything on his plate but he managed. When he sat down again his plate hit his glass, but not too hard.

“I don’t.”

The words left his mouth before he could stop himself. When Míngzé fully realized what he said, a confused look washed over him. He shook his head at his own stupidity for saying that. A lot had happened throughout his life, but he’d never felt more disappointed with himself in his entire life.

Míngzé was almost surprised when Sāng didn’t keep pushing, but the alternative was not any better. He rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. Of course. “And it’s going great,” he said with a hint of sarcasm. No, it was not that bad. But to say he wanted to do this again soon? That was too much for him.

Sāng told him that it was not bad and Míngzé quirked an eyebrow at him. “That’s good. I thought you might’ve cut yourself or something.” He’d never been to a gym in his entire life. If the other hadn’t dropped a weight on his hand, maybe he’d cut himself. He assumed that it would be a nasty cut. But apparently not. It left him wondering what actually happened, but he did

From what he could hear, Sāng had saved his glass form a certain doom. “Sorry,” Míngzé apologized. He did not want to cause any trouble, but things became a little difficult. It was a weird feeling, as if he didn’t have full control over his movements. He hated it and decided then and there that he would not drink any more. But someone had other plans.

Míngzé looked up at the man who once again stood at their table. A celebration. This was bad and he knew it. A small glass was forcibly shoved in his hands, leaving him no other option. Chief declared that they should drink and hesitantly raised the glass to his lips. Míngzé had never done shots before but he knew the general concept. Drink it in one go. Without second guessing he went for it, but failed at everything. Once it was in his mouth, the taste was overwhelming and he had difficulty swallowing it, but he could also not spit it out. Swallowing physically hurt him. A shiver ran through his whole body and he made a face that showed pure and utter disgust. It was as if his whole body was burning up from one small glass.

“That was horrible,” he said hoarsely as he bent forward, leaning on the table. The taste lingered in his mouth and it was the worst thing he ever experienced.

He would never forgive himself for making that stupid joke. The other’s laughter made it even worse. But the joke was now forever stuck in his head, ready to haunt him.

How he wished they could go back to their conversation about the bandage on the other’s hand. That was far better than whatever happened next when Chief joined them. Míngzé had hoped to quickly get rid of the shot and be over with it, but that did not go according to plan. While he felt like he was dying after one shot, the other two were doing just fine.

Chief got dismissed and Míngzé found the strength to raise his hand for a second. While the man did nothing wrong, he was happy to see him go.

Míngzé made a face when Sāng called the shots not that bad. No, they were worse. The taste would not leave his tongue. “Yeah, that did not work,” he countered. It was what he did. Throw back the shot, but then he was unable to swallow it in one go. He was really feeling hot now but he blamed the experience he just had. “I don’t understand how you do it,” he said, shaking his head. With one hand he rubbed his neck while looking for his glass with the other. Sāng had moved it away from him which made it harder to find. Once he found it and drank he was happy it was mostly melted ice as he’d already finished the rest.

“What’s with the Gānbēi,” Míngzé decided to ask. That was not one of the words he was ever taught.