"Well, I think your words of encouragement worked like a charm." Zhanshi said, holding up the canvas.
Anwei turned from the pot she was stirring and smiled at his work.
"What did I say, honey? Focus is key." She said.
Zhanshi turned the canvas around and admired his work. The Yin Yang he had drawn produced even more detail and color. And rather than it popping out at him, it looked as if he was staring into reality, the colors all moving every which way in a smooth and majestic rhythm.
"Yes, focus is key." He said.
Setting the canvas on the dinner table, he approached Anwei and wrapped his paws around her waist.
"So, what's for dinner?"
"Food." She replied jokingly.
"I would've never guessed!" He said sarcastically.
They both laughed at each other's dry humor, as Zhanshi took her paw in his and helped her stir the pot.
After a few minutes of light flirting, Zhanshi gently turned her face towards him and began kissing her. Anwei giggled and tried brushing him off, but she was eventually taken in by his affection.
Slowly, she let go of the spoon, and found herself wrapped around Zhanshi, deepening the kiss.
"Anymore words of encouragement you'd like me to hear?" Zhanshi asked playfully.
Anwei ran her finger slowly down his lips and too his chest. "I think it's your turn to tell me something, hm?"
"Ahem!"
Both of them jerked their heads to the front door to see a hooded figure idly standing there, both paws carrying huge burlap sacks.
"Oh, sweetie! You're home early!" Anwei shouted, rushing to help An with the bags.
Zhanshi awkwardly scratched the back of his head and waved at An, who only glared at him in slight disgust.
"Did you get anything good at the marketplace? I saw that the traveling shops were here today." Anwei asked, pulling out a chair for An to sit.
"No, just these two bags of fruit. Qiang gave them to me for free." Anwei replied as she sat down.
"Well that was very kind of her. We should return the favor, right honey?"
Zhanshi had made his way to the pot, hurriedly stirring it after leaving it unattended. "For sure. I should paint her something. You think she would like that, An?"
She pulled down her hood, revealing her complex stripe pattern that seemed to be a canvas in and of itself.
"Maybe." She sighed.
Anwei gently rubbed her back as she sat down beside her.
"Is something wrong sweetie? You don't seem like your usual self."
An groaned in annoyance, brushing her mother's hand off of her back.
"I'm fine." She said, clearly wanting to be left alone.
Zhanshi quit stirring and approached the table.
"Hey, come on, you can talk to us." He said, taking a seat across from her.
An hurriedly got up and rushed upstairs to her room, throwing the two bags over her shoulder.
"An! Sweetie!" Her mother yelled up the stairs, hearing the door slam.
She sighed deeply, sitting back down and resting her head on her paw.
"Should I go talk to her?" Zhanshi asked.
Anwei shook her head.
"No. I will."
-
An gently placed the bags on her desk in front of the window. Crouching down, she reached under it to grab a large wooden box, and proceeded to dump the fruit into it.
She slightly winced, the smell of radishes that always seemed to emanate from the box hitting her nostrils. It was old, and her father had given it to her when she was little.
Lifting up the box, she took it to her bed and sat down with it, her appetite showing no mercy. She began to eat fruit after fruit until the box was half empty.
In defiance, she quickly shoved the box under her bed, trying to fight off the urge to eat more. But it was hard, especially since that was the only thing she wanted to do when she was upset.
"An?" Said the voice outside her room.
An let out an angry sigh, slowly getting up to open the door.
She was greeted by her mother, her usual worried look as clear as ever.
"What do you want?" An asked as she sat back down on the bed, uninterested.
"I just wanna talk to you honey, that's all."
Anwei pulled out the wooden chair from the desk and sat in it, facing her daughter, who was avoiding her gaze.
"Me and your father are worried about you."
"There's nothing to worry about. I'm fine."
"We both know that's not true."
An let out a groan, putting her face in her paws.
"Why does it matter?" An said, slightly raising her voice.
"Because you matter. To us." Anwei replied, her soft tone somewhat calming the tension.
An let out a deep sigh, admitting defeat.
"Ok, fine...I'm just...I don't know."
"It's ok sweetie, take your time."
An wanted to really tell her everything. Why she was usually in a bad mood, why she never wanted to talk about anything. Why she wanted to just be left alone.
But she had lied. For years, she had lied to her parents about the bullying, about what she endured constantly at school and in public. She kept it to herself, bottled it up as she had done with anything else that effected her this way. And even as a child, when she would come home with tears streaming down her face, she would refuse to speak. She would only tell Qiang so much, but even that wasn't enough.
But this year had been different. She had felt the urge to talk about it many times, but the bottle would not let loose. Yet slowly, as her mother's gaze was planted on her, she began to feel the glass breaking.
"I'm just...I'm depressed." Was all she could get out. And it was enough for her mother to bombard her with more questions.
"Why are you depressed, sweetie?"
"Because of everything."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I don't know...School, the village. Everything."
"What about those things makes you depressed?"
After several minutes of going back and forth, An threw herself back on her bed, covering her face with a pillow.
Anwei sighed, making her way to An's bed.
"It's ok honey. I'll leave you alone, ok?"
She gently planted a kiss on An's paw, and began to leave.
But quickly, An grabbed her.
"No, please stay." An said, throwing the pillow to the side.
Her mother sat back down, attentively looking at her.
"Mom...?"
"Yes Sweetie?"
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course honey, you can ask me anything."
An took a deep breath, thinking of a way to form what she wanted to say. And then it came to her, in the simplest way she could think.
"Why am I different?"