First Meeting [Chen Mao]

Yao sighed. It had been a long day at the hospital, and while he was ready to just go home and sleep, he still had half a day ahead of him. It was his break now, though, and he'd gone out to the courtyard. He desperately needed fresh air after being cooped up in the hospital since morning. While he loved interacting with his patients, they could really be a handful at times.

Yao glanced up at the sky and smiled. It was a beautiful day, and he'd planned on enjoying the time he had outside to the fullest. It was becoming harder and harder for him to actually have time to relax during his break these days, but today was a good opportunity to do so. Not to mention, one of his patients had successfully recovered and was being discharged today, so it was a good time to celebrate.

He found a place in the courtyard to sit down, and took out the lunch that he'd bought from the cafeteria. In all honesty, he despised cafeteria food, and hardly bought any from there, but these days he'd been too busy to prepare his own food, and was left with no choice but to buy it. The fried rice he'd bought didn't look any better than it usually did--a complete disgrace to Chinese food--but he readied his chopsticks to eat it anyway.

Mao sat up slowly from his bed, small pains racking his body. He slowly looked around the room with half-lidded eyes and noticed that all his surroundings were white. And that medicine smell... It was just like a hospital and here was was, laying on one of the beds. What had happened to him anyway? Sliding his legs to the side of the bed, the memories of the day before suddenly came rushing back to him. He was merely setting up some pyrotechnics for an event and something happened to set it off because Mao saw nothingness after that.

Looking at himself, Mao finds that he is wrapped with plenty of bandages, especially on his arms and legs. He pulls his shirt up and finds bandages as well. 'Great, this was wonderful.' he thinks sarcastically,'They better not had informed mother or that cranky old man. Who knows if I can leave the country next time... ' Mao sighs, this was not even the best part, because soon he needed to get out of here as soon as he can. He shuddered, the nurses are coming. They really did.

First of all, finding himself in the hospital was already bad but what happened next was so much worse! Finding himself in a room full of women didn't help either. These nurses, who had seen him awake, began fusing over him. It annoyed him and their English was too fast for him to follow. Quickly hatching a plan, he was able to distract the nurses by pointing at something stupid. He sneakily walked out then, getting use to the pain of his burns. No pain, no gain right?

Successfully he was able to evade most of them but there were some who spotted him. He ran after that, towards the Courtyard, looking for a place to hide. While running, he doesn't notice that person sitting down and eating lunch, needless to said that he trip over him.

Yao felt the impact before he'd seen the person. The person had tripped over him and his body was sent colliding straight into Yao's. He wasn't extremely light, either. Yao groaned as he pushed the other up, getting up as well. The fall had been painful and unexpected, and Yao was certain that he'd managed to gain a lot more bruises from it. He scowled, rubbing his arm, which had taken the brunt of the fall. "What was that for, aru...!" He complained, before turning to look at the other person.

The stranger had black eyes and hair--an Asian, like him. Yao was quite surprised; not many Asians came to Axis Memorial Hospital. In fact, Kiku was the only other Asian that Yao had seen. It was a nice surprise though--it was lonely being in a country without anyone from your race, or anyone who understands your culture. After glancing closer, Yao realised the stranger who had tripped over him was a boy, with slightly thick eyebrows, and shoulder length hair. And a pretty face. "You're an Asian too, aru?" Yao asked, delighted. "Where are you from?"

It was odd though--Yao realised that he hadn't met this Asian before. He studied the other a bit, noticing the white bandages that covered his arms and legs. Ah, so he's a patient! Yao thought. It was no wonder he hadn't met him yet. While he didn't know all of the patients in this hospital--there really were too many--he knew all of the doctors, so he'd suspected that the other was a patient already.

"My name is Wang Yao, aru! I'm from Beijing. And you are...?" Yao looked curiously at the patient. He felt the urge to be more friendly with this patient--not only because he was also an Asian, but because the other seemed slightly lonely. He remembered how he felt when he had just come from Beijing, and he wouldn't wish it on anyone. Even if the other wasn't from another country, he did look a bit lost. And Yao couldn't leave a patient alone feeling that way.

"Come, sit down here with me, aru!" Yao petted a place beside him, gesturing for the patient to sit with him. "I can share some of my lunch with you! Not that it's any good though, aru." Yao added, grumbling. His love for cuisine made him into a very fussy eater.

Okay, being injured and tripping over someone was not a good idea. At least he landed on a cushion, a really soft cushi--....wait, it just pushed him off. So he tripped over another person. Great..Now it was time for him to get--...Yep there is, the anger. And wait...silence?

Mao looks over to the person he ran over and blinks in surprise. This was one of a few Asians he had seen in a while. Once coming to America, there was such a diverse population that he wasn't able to meet many of his ethnicity. It seemed like it was the same for that man, whose anger was immediately appeased when he got a good look at Mao. That man himself was pretty good looking. Long silky black hair tied to a ponytail, having that traditional feeling, and many feminine features. If from afar, Mao would've swore that he was really a woman. A really happy woman. Who was asking him questions. And he just nodded.

Listening on, he finds out that his name's Wang, Yao which rhymes with his first name, Mao. Kinda funny actually. He's also from Beijing, which explains the accent that he understands. Not like those nurses who babbled away quickly to him. Oh, he's also doctor of this establishment, not sure what his specialty is. Once invited to sit with him, Mao first stood up to apologized before plopping his butt down to sit next to him, sorry for what had happened. Looking over at Yao's food, he cringed a bit. /That/ was food? Mao shakes his head, he had no appetite anymore.

((IM SOOO SORRY FOR SENDING THIS LATE. I BLAME MY SCHOOLWORK -SOB-))

Yao watched as the other refused the food. The younger man didn't seem to talk--perhaps he was mute? "Ah, do you mind writing your name down, if you don't mind me asking, aru?" Yao hoped that he didn't sound too much like a busybody. It was just... Yao missed his country, and the people there. Being with another Asian eased his homesickness slightly. Not to mention, the other was quite good looking--with his dark hair, and intense black eyes...

Yao shook his head violently in an attempt to erase those thoughts from his mind. What was he thinking? This was the first time that they were meeting, and he was already thinking things like that about the brunet? Yao couldn't believe himself. Had he become a pervert without realising it...? He shouldn't be thinking about things like that, especially only after they'd just met. He felt his cheeks heat up, and he scowled at himself. He felt completely and utterly disappointed with himself--what had happened the the strict and focused individual that he was, not too long ago?

Yao glanced back towards the other Chinese, realising that he probably looked quite like an idiot, shaking his head like that out of nowhere. "A-ah, I'm sorry, aru. I was just thinking... about disturbing things." He said sheepishly to his companion. "Would you mind sitting with me, even if you don't eat, aru? It's quite lonely eating out here alone..." He really hoped the other agreed. He didn't like being lonely--it made him think of things that he didn't really want to think about.

Yao smiled in bliss as he felt a cool breeze against his face. "Ah, what a nice breeze, aru!" He absolutely loved the breeze--it felt so cooling and refreshing, and so unlike the hospital itself, which felt stuffy, even with the air-conditioning on. Perhaps it was due to the atmosphere, or maybe it was because of the strong smell of antiseptic that wafted along the hallways.

"Were you from China as well, aru?" He turned to the other Asian and asked him curiously. He wasn't sure where the other was from, but he was quite certain the other was Chinese. Ah, China. His beautiful, lovely, homeland. How he missed the country and its wonderful sights. Not to mention, his home, and his... parents.

Yao immediately felt his smile slowly turn downwards. He missed his parents. So much. It was because of them that he'd come to America--to get away from their memories, in a sense--and while it did help to a certain extent, he'd occasionally be reminded of them, and being so far from the country that they'd raised him in made him feel even lonelier.

[Sorry this was late as well. School kills me. ;A;]

Mao looked at Yao in mild surprise when the man asked his question, most people by now would have gotten annoyed by his lack of speech. Or even called out on him for being rude. Granted, it was probably because the other had experience, being a doctor and all, but he liked this guy already. Scanning around from his spot, there was a convenient spot of sand near him, perfect for writing in. Using his index finger, he wrote his name out in Chinese characters; Chen, Mao.

Looking up, Mao found an interesting sight. The person he just met was shaking his head rapidly to get rid of some weird thoughts? While he was curious, he knew it was probably something the other disappointed himself with. 'For all I know, the other was probably thinking about me,' he muses to himself, seeing his newly met acquaintance go red. It was a plus with not speaking, you get to observe everyone, in a non creeper way of course. Regardless this got Mao was interested, very interested with this man named Wang, Yao.

"Would you mind sitting with me, even if you don't eat, aru? It's quite lonely eating out here alone..."

Mao brought himself back from his thoughts and nodded to his question automatically. He agreed with Yao, being lonely and all. He was fine being alone for most of the time but sometimes it does get tiring. Human interaction is important, whether he liked it or not. He thought back to his grandfather back in Beijing....and frowned for a moment. Though once he saw the calm and peaceful look on Yao's face, Mao found himself in a better mood too. It was enough to take a nap right then and there, the breeze did feel nice and it was a wonderful day, despite what he happened to him before. He closed his eyes and almost did fall asleep in the moment but Yao's next question woke him up.

Under his name, he nodded and he wrote Beijing. While Mao missed his country at times, his home was something he wished to never go back too. There were too bad memories for him there...how was his mother doing anyway? He looks to see that Yao feeling forlorn, something must've happened to him back home as well. All he did and all he could do is put a hand on his shoulder in understanding. Mao hoped that it would help.

((School is evil, yes yes. Take your time. <3))

Yao watched as the other used his index finger to neatly and gently carve out two Chinese characters--Chen Mao, his name--in small spot of sand nearby. Yao's eyes widened in surprise. Mao couldn't speak? It was no wonder then, why he'd seemed so silent. He wasn't trying to be rude at all. He probably just couldn't speak. Yao mused to himself. Although, Mao is quite a nice name...

Western names orders were confusing, especially after growing up with his last name being placed before his first name, and he was glad that he didn't have to deal with the confusion of what Yao's first name actually was with Mao. Many people seemed to think that his first name was Wang, or that the order it was written and spoken was Yao Wang, which constantly annoyed him.

Yao beamed cheerfully when he saw Mao nod immediately after he'd asked for the other to accompany him as he ate. He'd been slightly worried that Mao would reject and walk off, oddly enough. He didn't understand why he wanted Mao to accompany him so badly. It almost felt as if he'd needed the other to be with him, and it was a feeling that he'd never felt before.

Yao's eyes traced Mao's finger as it wrote the two Chinese characters, bei jing, in the sand. So, Mao was from Beijing as well? It would be such a coincidence if they'd actually lived in the same town as well, without realising it. Yao felt Mao's hand rest on his shoulder as he reminisced about his past, and glanced towards Mao, forcing his lips into a fake smile. He couldn't let his mask drop. He couldn't.

Through Yao's nostalgic memories of his past, Mao seemed like a a positive beam of light--while he didn't feel completely better about his parents, Mao's understanding hand seemed to have helped lessen the pain slightly, and Yao realised that the smile that he'd originally forced on his face wasn't as fake as he thought it was.

Ah, his hand on Yao's shoulder worked, at least it worked later. Mao could tell that he felt better overall as well, his smile a nice thing to see. And he did think how Yao wasn't bad looking at all and---crap. What was he thinking?

It's not like Mao was allowed to date anyway, he probably had a list of marriage partners back at home via his grandfather. Then his own set of rules would come in play. One, if the girl was nice, he would politely turn her down. Second, if the girl wasn't nice and got on his nerves; well he has a lot of firecrackers in his disposal. Third, no one really thought of him as a nice guy so he couldn’t let his reputation go to waste now. But hypothetically speaking, if Yao one...then maybe he wouldn't really mind. But that was only wishful thinking, he doubt anyone would /ever/ like him that way.

He shook his head to get out of those thoughts, stretching out to remind himself that today was a good day despite being a patient in the hospital. He's kinda sore from running away from the nurses though. But hanging out with someone he could considered friend made it all up. Wiping his name and city clean, he wrote, 'How are you today?'