Arvin adjusted his grip on Jeremy's arm as they emerged from the alley. The late afternoon sun hit his eyes, making him squint. Despite being about 10 centimeters shorter, he managed to support Jeremy's weight, though their awkward shuffle probably looked strange to anyone passing by.
Wheeze
Jeremy's breathing came in short bursts as they made their way down the street. Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the cool air.
(Chinese) "Look, there's a hospital nearby," Arvin said, pointing at a white building with a red cross they'd passed earlier. "We should get your injuries checked."
Jeremy shook his head, then immediately regretted it as pain shot through his neck. (Chinese) "No... no hospital. Home... better."
(Chinese) "Are you sure? Your injuries seem serious," Arvin insisted, noting how Jeremy's face grew paler with each step.
(Chinese) "I know... my body," Jeremy managed between labored breaths. His legs started wobbling. (Chinese) "Need... rest bit."
They stopped at a corner, Jeremy leaning against a lamppost. The metal felt cool against his back, providing momentary relief.
(Chinese) "Since we're resting," Jeremy said, his breathing steadier now, (Chinese) "I'm Jeremy. Jeremy Fang."
(Chinese) "I am Arvin Li Priambodo," Arvin replied with a slight bow, still supporting Jeremy's weight. "You can call me Arvin."
Jeremy's eyebrows rose at the unusual name combination. He pointed at himself, then made a mixing gesture with his free hand. (Chinese) "Me too. Half... Chinese. Dad Chinese, mom not."
Arvin's eyes lit up at the shared connection. (Chinese) "Ah, that explains why you understand Chinese. Though your accent..."
(Chinese) "Bad, I know," Jeremy chuckled, then winced at the pain it caused. (Chinese) "Grandmother taught... before she..." He made a gesture of someone passing away.
Arvin nodded solemnly, waiting as Jeremy caught his breath.
(Chinese) "Father tried... teaching after but..." Jeremy shrugged, immediately regretting the movement. (Chinese) "Not good teacher."
As they resumed walking, Arvin looked around at the unfamiliar buildings. (Chinese) "Could you tell me where this place is? Which city?"
Jeremy struggled with the explanation, using his free hand to draw invisible maps in the air. (Chinese) "New York. America." He pointed east. (Chinese) "Ocean there. Like... Shanghai?"
(America? Like what Grandma taught in those history lessons?), Arvin thought, his mind racing. (But how did I end up on the other side of the world? The plane was heading to Jakarta, not...)
(Chinese) "I see," Arvin managed to reply, trying to hide his confusion. "A port city, then."
Their conversation fell into a rhythm - simple phrases mixed with gestures, often pausing to make sure they understood each other. Complex ideas got lost in translation, but they managed to communicate the basics.
Wheeze
Jeremy's condition grew worse as they walked. His breathing became more labored, and they had to stop more frequently. Arvin kept adjusting his support, trying to find a position that wouldn't hurt Jeremy's ribs.
(Damn, this ain't good. Dad's gonna flip when he sees me like this), Jeremy thought, feeling his strength ebbing. (At least the store's just around the corner. Though explaining this mess is gonna be a real pain in the neck.)
(Chinese) "Where are we heading?" Arvin finally asked during one of their breaks.
Jeremy leaned heavily against a storefront window. (Chinese) "Dad's... place," he managed between breaths. (Chinese) "Close now. He speaks... better Chinese."
HonkRumble
The streets grew busier with evening traffic. Passersby gave them curious looks - a tall boy in a disheveled school uniform being supported by a shorter, dirty one wasn't exactly normal. Car horns and street vendor calls mixed with snippets of conversation in various languages, creating a constant background noise.
(Almost there), Jeremy thought, recognizing the familiar buildings. (Dad better not make a scene in front of everyone. Last thing I need is him fussin' over me like when I was a kid.)
Despite his worsening condition, his steps became more purposeful. Arvin felt his own curiosity rising - someone who could speak better Chinese meant potential answers about this strange place.
(This city is so different from the mountain), Arvin mused, taking in the towering buildings. (Master would say there's a reason for everything, but how does one end up halfway across the world overnight?)
The setting sun cast long shadows between buildings as they made their final turns. Jeremy's relief was obvious as they approached their destination, though Arvin couldn't help but notice how the taller boy's breathing had become increasingly shallow.
***
ShuffleStep
After two turns, a massive building loomed before them. Arvin's eyes widened - it was easily three times larger than the convenience store from last night. The striking blue and white exterior gleamed under the late afternoon sun, crowned by an illuminated metal signboard bearing the Chinese characters 方方.
(Chinese) "Fang Square?" Arvin muttered, translating automatically.
Despite his obvious pain, Jeremy straightened slightly. His Chinese, usually halting and careful, suddenly flowed more smoothly through his excitement. (Chinese) "No, no. Fang-Fang. Or just Fang's. This is my family's store."
(Great, now I'm starting to sound like Dad when he gets all proud about the store), Jeremy thought, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in his ribs.
(Chinese) "We have everything here. From candy to instant noodles, drinks to-" Jeremy's enthusiastic introduction cut off as he doubled over in a violent coughing fit.
CoughWheeze
The physical toll of their journey finally caught up with him. His face turned ashen, and his legs trembled uncontrollably.
(How is he still conscious?), Arvin wondered, tightening his grip on Jeremy's arm. (Most people would have passed out long ago from such injuries. Unless...)
Whoosh
The automatic doors slid open, startling Arvin momentarily. (What kind of door moves by itself?), he thought, momentarily distracted by the technology. Cool air washed over them, carrying the scents of foods, fruit, cleaning supplies, and other things, mixed with the strong aroma of fresheners.
(Master always said to stay calm when facing the unknown), Arvin reminded himself, taking in the store's interior. The space stretched out like a miniature market, with neat aisles of colorful packages and refrigerated displays lining the walls. Four counters stood at strategic points, with a red door near the leftmost one.
Customers turned to stare at their entrance - a disheveled pair, one barely supporting the other. Jeremy's condition was deteriorating rapidly. His speech became increasingly confused, mixing Chinese and English.
(Chinese) "Dad... red door... left..." he mumbled, struggling to keep his eyes open. "Counter... there..."
(Shit, everything's getting fuzzy), Jeremy thought as his vision started to blur. (Just gotta... hold on... little longer...)
Seeing Jeremy's state worsening, Arvin made a quick decision. In one smooth motion, he shifted his grip and lifted the taller boy into his arms.
GaspMurmur
Several customers stopped to stare - a shorter boy easily carrying someone larger than himself wasn't something you saw every day. An elderly woman nearly dropped her shopping basket.
(This attention isn't good), Arvin thought, (But Jeremy needs help now.)
(Chinese) "Red door, leftmost counter," Arvin repeated to himself, carefully navigating between the aisles. They passed displays of colorful drinks and rows of instant noodles, each item more foreign than the last.
TapTap
Behind the nearest counter sat a slightly chubby, middle-aged man absorbed in his work. His wire-rimmed glasses reflected a strange glow as he alternated between writing in a notebook and studying some kind of screen.
(What is that?), Arvin wondered, his steps slowing despite himself. The device was unlike anything he'd seen - thinner than the TV sets back at his home, yet somehow displaying moving text and images.
Wheeze
Jeremy's labored breathing snapped Arvin back to focus. (Focus! This isn't the time to get distracted by strange devices), he scolded himself. Thanks to his training, Jeremy's weight wasn't an issue, but the taller boy's condition was clearly worsening.
Still, Arvin couldn't help stealing another glance at the screen. Back in the mountain, artificial light meant basic bulbs or battery-powered torches. This thin, glowing panel seemed almost magical.
Cough
A weak cough from Jeremy finally broke Arvin's fascination. He shifted his attention to the man behind the counter, who remained absorbed in his work, unaware of the situation unfolding before him.
(This must be Jeremy's father), Arvin thought, noting some familiar features they shared. He cleared his throat, preparing to address the man in proper Chinese.
______________________________
Behind the leftmost counter, Fang Chou sat hunched over his work, the rhythmic clicking of keyboard keys punctuating the ambient store noise. His ear-length black hair, peppered with strands of white, fell forward as he alternated between studying the computer screen and jotting notes.
ClickScratch
His glasses caught the fluorescent light as he adjusted them - a habit born from years of close desk work.
(Chinese) "Excuse me, sir," Arvin called out softly.
The gentle greeting broke Fang Chou's concentration. He glanced up with his practiced customer service smile, but it vanished instantly at the sight before him - a dirty, young stranger carrying his son, who looked deathly pale.
"Jeremy!"
In one fluid motion that belied his slightly chubby body, Fang Chou vaulted over the counter. His glasses slipped down his nose as he rushed forward, hands already reaching for his son.
"What happened? Who did this? Why is he-" The questions stopped abruptly as his mind finally processed what he'd heard. The boy had greeted him in flawless Mandarin, with an accent that transported him almost a decades ago - one that sounded just like his late mother's.
Jingle
Fang Chou's hands shook as he fumbled with his keys, his usual composed demeanor cracking. It took three Clink before he managed to unlock the red door.
(Get it together), he thought, forcing his hands to steady. (Jeremy needs help first. Questions can wait.)
The office beyond was simple but welcoming - a solid desk occupied one corner, while a comfortable couch lined the opposite wall. Family photos and business certificates decorated the walls, creating a space that felt both professional and personal. A second door, painted the same red as the entrance, stood half-hidden behind a tall filing cabinet, presumably leading deeper into the building.
(Wow.... it's like those offices I saw on grandpa's favorite TV shows.), Arvin thought, the familiar layout easing some of his tension. At least this part of the modern world matched something he knew.
(Chinese) "Here, put him on the couch," Fang Chou directed, his voice steadier now. He watched carefully as Arvin lowered Jeremy onto the cushions, noting the boy's surprisingly gentle movements.
Fang Chou grabbed a blanket from a nearby cabinet, tucking it around his son with practiced care. (Just like when he was little), he thought, trying to keep his worry in check.
A heavy silence fell as both men studied each other. Finally, Fang Chou bowed deeply. (Chinese) "Thank you for helping my son."
(Chinese) "It was nothing worthy of such thanks," Arvin replied formally, returning the bow with perfect form. (Chinese) "I merely did what anyone would do."
Creak
Fang Chou's eyebrow raised slightly at the traditional phrasing. Nobody Jeremy's age spoke like that anymore - not even his most traditional business partners used such formal Chinese.
(Chinese) "Please, tell me what happened. And..." Fang Chou hesitated, adjusting his glasses, "how did you come to be here?"
Arvin stood with perfect posture, hands clasped behind his back. (Should I tell him everything? Master always said to be careful with strangers), he thought, studying Jeremy's father. (But there's something about him... like how Master described trustworthy people.)
Still, the plane accident seemed too unbelievable. Who would believe someone could survive such a crash and appear in a different country?
(Better stick to what happened after I woke up), Arvin decided. He began his story from the alley, describing how he found himself there with no memory of how he arrived. The kind store clerk, the night in the playground dome, each event carefully worded to maintain truth while avoiding the impossible parts.
(Chinese) "So you've been wandering without proper food or shelter," Fang Chou said, studying the boy through his glasses. That calculating look reminded Arvin of his master during training evaluations. "And you speak no English at all?"
(Chinese) "None, sir," Arvin confirmed, maintaining his formal tone. (Chinese) "Until meeting your son, I hadn't found anyone who could understand what I said."
Groan
A soft sound from the couch drew their attention. Jeremy shifted slightly, his face tight with pain even in unconsciousness.
(Chinese) "The rest can wait," Fang Chou said, moving toward his son. (Chinese) "Jeremy needs attention first." He paused, then turned back to Arvin. (Chinese) "Though I haven't properly introduced myself. I'm Fang Chou."
(Chinese) "Arvin Li Priambodo," Arvin replied with a formal bow. After a moment's hesitation, he added, (Chinese) "Half Indonesian-Chinese."
Fang Chou's eyes lit up with understanding. (Chinese) "That explains your accent. It reminds me of..." he trailed off, shaking his head slightly. (Chinese) "But first, those injuries. How did you find my son?"
As Arvin described the alley incident, carefully omitting certain details, Fang Chou's expression shifted between concern and something harder to read. Both men recognized the dance of partial truths, each respecting the other's careful choice of words.
Growl
The serious mood broke as Arvin's stomach protested loudly. Fang Chou's lips twitched, while Arvin fought to maintain his composed expression despite his reddening cheeks.
(Chinese) "When was your last proper meal?" Fang Chou asked, though his tone suggested he already knew the answer.
Arvin hesitated, but his stomach answered for him with another growl.
(Chinese) "That settles it," Fang Chou said firmly. (Chinese) "You'll stay for dinner. Through that red door, you'll find another room and look for a white door. It lead to the bathroom where you can clean up." He gestured to the second door. (Chinese) "I'll have some clean clothes brought in."
ClickStep
Before Arvin could protest, Fang Chou was already heading for the entrance. (Chinese) "I need to make some calls. If you're want to eat something, just take anything you like in the cabinet or the fridge in the next room. Make yourself at home." He paused at the door. (Chinese) "And Arvin? Thank you. For helping my son."
With that, he was gone, leaving Arvin alone with the sleeping Jeremy.