[ The school is nearby, only a few blocks away; he wishes it were farther. Every moment holding Gu Yan's small hand seems too short. She basks in the attention, chattering happily about the chickens and the frog pond and her friends and an insect she'd found yesterday and whether robots have feelings, leaping from topic to topic with no proper beginning or end—just like one of her fathers.
At the school gate she hugs them both and begs for kisses and runs to catch up with the gaggle of friends she'd told to go ahead.
He watches her go. Once she turns away from them and hurries into the schoolhouse, his expression becomes complicated. Softly, he exhales, turning to Chang Geng: ]
This kind of future, I wouldn't mind it.
[ He chooses his words carefully. Not that he would stretch out his hand for it, but that he could accept it, if staying here is what fate holds for him.
no subject
At the school gate she hugs them both and begs for kisses and runs to catch up with the gaggle of friends she'd told to go ahead.
He watches her go. Once she turns away from them and hurries into the schoolhouse, his expression becomes complicated. Softly, he exhales, turning to Chang Geng: ]
This kind of future, I wouldn't mind it.
[ He chooses his words carefully. Not that he would stretch out his hand for it, but that he could accept it, if staying here is what fate holds for him.
If it doesn't, he will accept that, too. ]