Chapter Text
“Captain, do you want to come to dinner with us?”
Yu Wenzhou looks up from his desk. In the doorway of his office, Song Xiao hovers, quietly hopeful. This time he isn’t alone. From beside him, Zheng Xuan gives a faint smile. Even Zhang Boqing is more subdued than usual, his wild hair pulled back into a messy bun. The rest of the team hovers in the background, all peering into the office. None of them enter.
It’s been a month since Huang Shaotian disappeared. A month since Yu Wenzhou’s frantic searching. A month since he had to accept that he’s gone for good. Yu Wenzhou tries not to let his personal feelings interfere with his duties as captain but he knows he hasn’t been at his best. At least it hasn’t affected the team. Blue Rain is still near the top of the rankings going into the second half of the season.
Outside of practice, Yu Wenzhou has mostly kept to himself. It would be nice to spend time with everyone but he doesn’t want his mood to drag them down. He offers them a smile that’s kind but brooks no argument. “Sorry, not tonight. I’m—”
“Too bad.” Zheng Xuan steps into the office. “Sorry Captain, we weren’t asking. Time to come to dinner.”
Yu Wenzhou isn’t sure how it happens but by the time he thinks to protest, he’s already being ushered out of his chair and into the hall.
“It’s your favorite place, Captain,” Zhu Lei offers as they walk down the hallway. “The one with that fish you like.”
“Never seen a man eat so much fish,” Zhang Boqing whispers loud enough for everyone to hear. Amidst a sea of muffled giggles, the elevator chimes its arrival.
Yu Wenzhou’s stomach chooses that moment to make a loud noise of agreement, and any chance he has of claiming he isn’t hungry is lost to a renewed wave of giggling. He isn’t in the mood to plaster on a smile and pretend nothing’s wrong but he’s well and truly ambushed. Blue Rain has learned from their captain.
Also, the fish at that place is delicious. Accepting his defeat, Yu Wenzhou gets into the elevator.
A wall of muggy coolness hits him when they exit the building. Winter in Guangzhou can barely be called winter but it’s a welcome reprieve from the brutal heat. The team closes ranks around him as they walk, like Yu Wenzhou might change his mind and make a break for freedom at any moment if they aren’t careful.
As promised, they only walk a few short blocks, until they’re standing in front of Yu Wenzhou’s favorite tiny restaurant.
Throughout the meal, Yu Wenzhou doesn’t have to do a thing. The team orders all his favorite dishes, including the massive whole fish they tease him about every time they come to this place. It was only one time when he ate the entire thing on his own but they’ve never let him forget it. The conversation flows easily, mostly silly chatter about inconsequential things and rehashing favorite jokes. There isn’t any pressure to join the conversation, and Yu Wenzhou drifts in and out as he pleases.
Ever since Huang Shaotian left, the team has been tiptoeing around him. Even Wei Chen, who isn’t afraid of making a nuisance of himself, speaks softer when Yu Wenzhou is in the room. For his part, Wei Chen doesn’t seem broken up about Huang Shaotian disappearing from their lives. If anything, he seems more at peace than Yu Wenzhou has ever seen him.
Yu Wenzhou wishes he felt the same. Every day when he returns to his room and Evening Glow’s card isn’t waiting for him on the table, it’s like the hole in his heart gets bigger.
He used to spend his nights playing Glory, but he now fills them analyzing matches, furiously taking notes and scribbling scraps of ideas that will eventually become Blue Rain’s new tactics. It doesn’t matter that the team already has a solid strategic base, their opponents are constantly adapting. New tactics will give Blue Rain the edge they need to stay ahead. And when his eyes start to blur from too much time behind a monitor, there are other ways to pass the time.
Like helping Song Xiao, who’s been struggling ever since he broke through the rookie wall. He isn’t playing badly in matches but there’s untapped potential he isn’t reaching. Neither of them can figure it out. After one tough match, he confided to Yu Wenzhou that he wasn’t sure he belonged on the main roster anymore. Yu Wenzhou was quick to reassure him otherwise. Blue Rain doesn’t give up on their own and Song Xiao is one of their best. The lack of progress is frustrating, but Yu Wenzhou is grateful for the challenge. By the time he collapses into bed each night, he’s too exhausted to do anything but sleep.
When the meal is over and the team returns home, Zheng Xuan corners Yu Wenzhou in the lounge. “Is there anything we can do?”
Yu Wenzhou is so distracted he nearly asks if this is about Song Xiao, but he recovers quickly enough to avoid embarrassing himself. “You’re already doing it.”
Zheng Xuan putters around the room, straightening pillows on the couch and refolding a blanket that was already neatly stored away. “I miss him, too,” he says. He’s scrutinizing the dust on the windowsill but makes no move to wipe it away. “I didn’t know him very well but I liked him. Funny guy.”
Yu Wenzhou’s eyes sting. He isn’t sure what to say.
“Anyway,” Zheng Xuan keeps going, “We’re having a movie marathon tomorrow. You should come. Zhang Boqing is bringing some of that fake beer without alcohol, but I’m not supposed to tell you that. Pretend you don’t know.”
“I wouldn’t want to spoil his fun,” Yu Wenzhou says. “So I also won’t tell him it isn’t against the rules to drink non-alcoholic beer.”
“He’s more cheerful when he thinks he’s getting away with things.” Zheng Xuan agrees, flopping onto the couch and destroying all the tidying up he just did. “That was exhausting. And so stressful. I need a nap.”
“It’s 10 PM,” Yu Wenzhou says. He loses the battle against the smile trying to break free.
“An eight hour nap. Perfect.”
Yu Wenzhou looks longingly in the direction of the subway station as the hired car picks him up from Blue Rain at the end of the season.
He misses the days when he could walk around without the risk of causing a scene. The last time he tried to take public transportation home for a long weekend, it ended in disaster. A fan recognized him behind his mask and sunglasses and it nearly caused a stampede. Today’s journey is far less dramatic. He arrives at his parents’ house without incident and goes directly to his room to unpack his keyboard and mouse.
The routine of summer settles over him. He catches up with old school friends, spends quality time with his parents, and kicks off his first casual scrimmage with the team. When he finally says goodbye to Zheng Xuan after practice, he shakes out his hands and stares at the one item in his gameday backpack he hasn’t unpacked.
Evening Glow.
He didn’t want to take the card home but he couldn’t bear to leave it locked away. He hasn’t used it in months, not since the very last time he couldn't find Troubling Rain. He doesn’t think he’ll ever use it again.
Yet somehow he finds himself with the card in his hand, inserting it into the card reader.
The Glory introduction screen jolts Yu Wenzhou out of his stupor, and he nearly pulls the card right back out again. But then the screen dissolves into colorful scenery, a town square teeming with avatars of every class and skill level. Old instincts take hold and Yu Wenzhou stops and waits, the way he always does when he plays on Evening Glow.
In the distance, a bell chimes. A merchant shouts prices over the background noise of so many people. A horse-drawn wagon goes by in a steady clacking of hoofs. But there’s no loud greeting, no long-winded string of nonsense about how Evening Glow is a sight for sore eyes. There’s no Troubling Rain. Yu Wenzhou swallows around the tightness in his throat and yanks out the card. He shoves it into the bottom of his backpack and tosses the whole thing into the darkest corner of his closet.
At one point, Xiao Shiqin comes for an impromptu visit. He gives Yu Wenzhou a searching look when they meet at the airport, but doesn’t press for details. They play trivia games all weekend and prove they don’t need to be logged in to Glory to be competitive.
Yu Wenzhou hasn’t told any of his fellow tacticians the specifics about Troubling Rain—just that he had a friend in the game who left suddenly—but they must have discussed it amongst themselves because no one asks him about it directly. Instead, Yu Wenzhou has been waking up to daily messages in the group chat, mostly dumb memes. Usually, he sends back a selfie, or a picture of the swallows that perch on his windowsill and peer into the room like they too want to play Glory. This time, he sends a picture of Xiao Shiqin glaring at the weiqi board looking murderous.
They’re both immediately bombarded with heckling and advice over the group chat. Xiao Shiqin takes Zhang Xinjie’s advice and ignores Ye Qiu’s heckling. Yu Wenzhou supposes he only has himself to blame when he loses, but he’s having too much fun planning his revenge on Zhang Xinjie to care.
Today, he’s at an art gallery with his parents for his father’s latest art exhibition.
The paintings on the wall are a departure from the usual landscapes, a colorful blend of nature and technology that reminds Yu Wenzhou of Glory. Several of the chemical equations graffitied in the background are familiar, and it isn’t until they’re heading back home that Yu Wenzhou realizes why. He’s seen them before, scribbled in his mother’s messy handwriting. The entire exhibition was a silent partnership of art and science. It’s an unwelcome reminder that Yu Wenzhou is facing down his own lack of a partner for next season.
The car rocks gently as it speeds through the darkened outskirts of the city. Yu Wenzhou had drunk several glasses of Baijiu at the celebratory dinner after the exhibition, and it was several glasses too many. The world feels unmoored, or maybe it’s just the blur of the streetlights as the car cuts through the night. He isn’t used to spending so much time away from Blue Rain. He misses the routine, misses his friends and his practices and the thrill of devising new tactics. He misses Troubling Rain.
He unlocks his phone to distract himself from his thoughts. Zheng Xuan had texted him earlier while he was talking with a few of his father’s artist friends, and Yu Wenzhou owes him a response.
Zheng Xuan (Bullet Rain): you’re not going to ask again right
Zheng Xuan (Bullet Rain): you promised
Zheng Xuan (Bullet Rain): 🙏🙏🙏
Back to square one, stuck without a partner. Perhaps he’ll ask Song Xiao, or the new rookie he recommended to Manager Lu for the main roster next season. Yu Feng had impressed him with his burning drive to reach the top, and Yu Wenzhou can use someone like that at his side. The car hits a bump, and his queasy stomach lodges a protest. It’s a good reminder that, whatever his decision, it can wait until he’s clearheaded.
With careful fingers, he taps out a reply to Zheng Xuan. It isn’t right to let him stew any longer without a response.
Yu Wenzhou (Swoksaar): I promised I would find another vice captain and I will. Thank you for doing it this past year.
A fleeting thought crosses his mind that he should call up Fang Shiqian and invite him to come to Blue Rain as his new vice-captain. It would be an amusing variation on his long-standing joke with Wang Jiexi. But before he can scroll through his contacts, the car comes to a halt.
It’s a relief to change out of his suit and into casual clothes. Yu Wenzhou nearly holes up in his bedroom for a little nighttime Glory practice, but he has no desire to find out how much his hand speed has worsened with the addition of alcohol. When he makes his way to the living room, his parents are already there, an open bottle of red wine on the coffee table between them.
His mother lifts up the bottle in a silent offer, and Yu Wenzhou screws up his face so hard he backpedals a step. “No thank you,” he says, once he’s fetched a glass of water and taken a seat on the couch. He downs half his glass and still feels thirsty.
His father accepts a refill of wine and Yu Wenzhou watches while his parents, not for the first time, toast to the successful exhibition.
“Our son, the lightweight,” his father teases.
Yu Wenzhou stretches his fingers one by one, the motions familiar from years of practice. “It’s a professional hazard. You know we can’t drink during the regular season.”
It’s strange to think that a few years ago, this conversation would have been tense with disapproval on both sides. It’s nice how far they’ve come. Yu Wenzhou doesn’t need his parents’ approval but he’s grateful to have it.
“So. Wenzhou.” His father leans forward, elbows on his knees. “What happened to your special friend you spent the whole summer talking to last time? You’ve been so quiet. Did you two have a fight?”
Yu Wenzhou barely has time to prepare before the question punches the breath out of him.
“Wenzhou?” His mother’s concerned voice breaks through the haze. “Are you okay? Did you break up?”
Great, even his parents think Troubling Rain was his boyfriend. Yu Wenzhou shakes his head to thwart any more questions. “He…he left. It wasn’t a fight, he just had to leave.”
“Oh Wenwen, I’m sorry.” His mother sets aside her wine glass to drape a blanket over his shoulders.
Yu Wenzhou is already running too warm but he grabs the edges of the blanket to keep it from slipping. Thankfully, the conversation moves on to other things. His father’s next project he wants to sculpt, his mother’s student assistants, Blue Rain’s chances for bringing home a championship trophy next year.
His parents don’t ask again about Huang Shaotian, but the next morning when Yu Wenzhou wakes up, it’s to the sight of his mother making his favorite dumplings for breakfast.
He doesn’t remember opening the closet, but one day he finds himself with Evening Glow’s card in his hand again. He stares at it for a long time before slowly inserting it into the card reader. It hurts not to have Troubling Rain at his side, but this time he plays through the ache in his chest. A random group of avatars approach him, and Yu Wenzhou joins their party. It’s easier the next time he uses the card, and then the next. The backpack migrates from the back of his closet towards the front, and eventually finds a home next to his desk. Yu Wenzhou never gets used to the silence when he logs in, but it stops surprising him. The ache in his heart fades into something almost comfortable.
He’d forgotten how nice it is to play on Evening Glow. Yu Wenzhou misses the anonymity that comes with an unknown account. Glory’s popularity has exploded in the years since he joined the team, and he can no longer log into Swoksaar without immediately being bombarded with friend requests and hopeful onlookers racing to his position to watch him play. Evening Glow is a reprieve from all of that. And while Yu Wenzhou could play on the club-issued practice Warlock he uses for in-game scrimmages, it isn’t the account he built with his own hands. It doesn’t have heart.
He doesn’t think twice when he gets a strange phone call from Wei Chen asking about his plans for the main roster. Yu Wenzhou tells him the same thing he told Manager Lu about Yu Feng and Zhao Heibo, and adds his own conflicted thoughts about who to name as his new vice-captain. After having a partner to share the load, he’s loath to go back to the way it was before.
“Yeah, um…Keep an open mind is all I’m saying. You never know how you’ll feel until your first practice with the team. Some of them may surprise you.”
The strange proclamation raises every hackle Yu Wenzhou has. He gets up from his chair to walk in circles around his room. After so many years, he’s used to his old captain’s brand of bullshit, but this is different. He’s hiding something. Outside his window, a light drizzle blankets the world in soft gray.
Yu Wenzhou pulls the phone away from his face, giving it a skeptical look that Wei Chen unfortunately can’t see. “If you have something to say, then say it.”
He isn’t being rude. Experience has taught him the best way to handle Wei Chen is to be direct. In return, Wei Chen has always been straight with him. It’s something Yu Wenzhou appreciates. Wei Chen never sugarcoats things, it’s what makes him such a good person to bounce ideas off of. Yu Wenzhou doesn’t need the extra help as much as he used to, but Wei Chen is an invaluable resource and a good friend. Yu Wenzhou values him for both.
“You kids are so uppity these days. All I’m saying is that you’re gonna be fine, don’t I always tell you that? Blue Rain is gonna kick everyone’s ass and I’m gonna rub it in Ye Qiu’s face, that old bastard.”
Ah, so that’s it. Yu Wenzhou’s suspicions crumble to dust. Wei Chen must have crossed paths with his old rival sometime during the summer. Yu Wenzhou doesn’t know the full scope of their friendship, only that it involves large amounts of chain-smoking, trading insults, and scamming other pro players out of their dignity. It’s a far cry from Yu Wenzhou’s own developing friendship with Ye Qiu, where the banter is more subtle but—Yu Wenzhou hopes—just as sharp.
He tries one more time to get answers. “Did you call to insult me, or did you have a real reason?”
Wei Chen grumbles something else about uppity kids, and Yu Wenzhou laughs. He’s in such a good mood that he doesn’t interrupt the ensuing list of gripes about the next generation’s faults, so ungrateful unlike their seniors who are wise and should be listened to more often.
It’s been too long since Yu Wenzhou let any of his friends in, too wrapped up in hiding himself away and nursing his wounds. He sprawls across the bed, limbs loose. “Thank you,” he says, before Wei Chen can hang up.
“For what, for letting me bitch for forty-five minutes? Maybe you’re the one who’s getting old and senile, not me.”
“You’re young at heart.”
“Stop calling me old. You think I can’t figure out your clever word games, who do you think taught you how to play dirty, remember. So ungrateful, didn’t I just say.”
Yu Wenzhou grins at the ceiling. “I wasn’t calling you old, I was calling you immature.”
Wei Chen sputters. “Not bad, not bad. I’ll get you next time, just you see.”
Days later, Wei Chen calls him again with a new list of colorful complaints. And again, and again, until one day Yu Wenzhou logs into Evening Glow, and the first thing he thinks of isn’t the ache of Troubling Rain’s absent chatter but that Huang Shaotian, wherever he is, is no longer trapped with nowhere to go. And it was Yu Wenzhou who did that, who helped set him free.
The first practice of the new season arrives in what feels like the blink of an eye. Season Six, a brand new start.
Yu Wenzhou has high hopes for this year. Song Xiao has come into his own after showing his mettle in the playoffs last season, and Zheng Xuan has grown into his status as a veteran. And now there’s Yu Feng to fill the gap in Blue Rain’s offensive lineup. They could use another high-energy attacker now that both Wu Yuming and Zhang Boqing are retired, but no team is perfect and Yu Wenzhou is pleased with the mix of talent on the roster.
He comes prepared for their first day of training with a brand new notebook, teeming with ideas to suit each of his players. The tactics for the newer players will need refinement as Yu Wenzhou learns their style, but that’s to be expected. Yu Wenzhou is adept at changing his plans to suit the people around him.
“Yu Feng, you need to manage your tempo better, you’re getting ahead of the team.” Yu Wenzhou stands up from his computer, removing his headset so he can address the room. “Remember, stronger doesn’t mean faster.”
Yu Feng frowns. “Yes, Captain.” The furrow in his brow says that he’s thinking about it rather than blowing off the criticism.
It reaffirms Yu Wenzhou’s decision to make him their lead attacker. Getting his style to mesh with the team might take some time, but already Yu Feng is showing his willingness to learn, which is the most important requirement to play for Blue Rain.
Over the next half hour, Yu Wenzhou concentrates on controlling the pace of the practice game. He has no doubt that, given a little time, he’ll be able to relax his hold but the first few practices require the heaviest hand until everyone finds their rhythm. He has to simultaneously hold back Yu Feng and coax out more from Zheng Xuan. Du Cheng is as competent a healer as always, but also the most likely to get tripped up when Yu Feng drives their pace too hard. Song Xiao is a steady all-around presence, requiring almost no extra handling.
They aren’t perfect but Yu Wenzhou can see the potential. He can’t wait for the season to get truly underway.
He’s in the middle of drawing on the whiteboard when his phone vibrates in his pocket. It doesn’t set a good example to have his mobile phone while they practice, but there are perks to being the captain. Sometimes Yu Wenzhou wishes there weren’t. Usually, the only people who call him during a scheduled practice are the team’s manager or owner, and Yu Wenzhou would much rather play Glory than deal with anything they might throw at him.
He lets the phone ring out, but when the vibrations start up again less than a minute later, he gives it up as a lost cause. Holding up a hand, he pulls out his phone while the room falls into silence.
“Yes?” he says, careful to keep his voice pleasant so he isn’t inadvertently rude to any of the executive management team.
“Yu Wenzhou, this is the security desk. You have a visitor in the lobby.”
Yu Wenzhou frowns at the phone. It isn’t unheard of for him to get visitors during the week but he isn’t expecting any guests today, and anyone who knows him well enough to drop in also knows he isn’t available in the afternoons because of team practice.
“Who is it?” Yu Wenzhou asks.
There’s a mild commotion on the other end and Yu Wenzhou thinks he hears Wei Chen’s voice cutting through the din. And then it goes silent like someone finally wised up and hit the mute button. Yu Wenzhou is about to hang up and get back to practice when the security officer comes back on the line, this time without the background noise.
“My apologies, Captain Yu, there was a mistake.”
How strange. Yu Wenzhou pockets the phone. He won’t make a big deal out of it unless it happens again, but he can’t have random calls interrupting his practices. It’s a problem for another time. Turning back to the whiteboard, he draws the rest of the formation and unfolds a collapsible pointer.
“Yu Feng, you take point.” Yu Wenzhou taps his pointer on the circle at the far left of the scattered formation. From the outside it looks like the perfect position for setting up a long-range ambush but, “Remember, the maneuver rests on deception. Stay under the radar until the time comes, and then,” Yu Wenzhou’s pointer lands on a circle at the center of the formation, “then we castle. You need to make it quick in order for this to work. Song Xiao will cover me during the switch and the rest of you fan out.”
“Isn’t it too risky?” Song Xiao asks.
Yu Wenzhou doesn’t need to ask why he’s concerned. “I’ll only be exposed for the first part of the setup. That’s why I have you to protect me.”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Does anyone else have any questions or—”
The door to the training room swings open. It’s so unexpected that Yu Wenzhou stops talking mid-sentence, his pointer still outstretched towards the board.
Wei Chen pokes his scraggly head into the room.
In Yu Wenzhou’s two years of captaincy, never once has Wei Chen interrupted one of his practices. Yu Wenzhou is on the verge of being annoyed enough to publicly reprimand him for it when Wei Chen ushers a second person into the room. The person is shorter than him, swathed in a hoodie so brightly colored it hurts to look at directly. His movements are swift but slightly uncoordinated, as if he was unused to walking.
And then he turns, and Yu Wenzhou stops breathing.
The pointer clatters against metal as it hits the sill at the bottom of the whiteboard, falling to the ground.
“Captain, what’s wrong?” Yu Feng leaps out of his seat, his head whipping from Yu Wenzhou to Wei Chen. “And you, who the hell are you?”
He isn’t talking to Wei Chen. Yu Feng came from the training camp, he’s well acquainted with Blue Rain’s head trainer.
He’s talking to the person beside Wei Chen.
Yu Wenzhou is too busy staring to notice the team frantically whispering amongst themselves. He’s stuck, frozen in place by a face he used to see on his computer monitor every day. He still sees it in his dreams. The clothes are different—modern jeans and sneakers as opposed to the familiar armor—but his smile is exactly the same.
Yu Wenzhou crosses the room in a daze. His hand moves on its own, hovering in the air between them. Warm fingers grasp his own. Solid and real.
He finally finds his voice. “Troubling Rain. It’s really you.”
Huang Shaotian leans in like he’s about to impart a secret, so excited he’s practically vibrating. His smile lights up his face, and though Yu Wenzhou has seen it hundreds of times in Glory, seeing it for real is like seeing it for the first time. “I’m not really Troubling Rain though, just Huang Shaotian. Normal, regular Huang Shaotian.”
Even his voice is exactly as Yu Wenzhou remembers it. Yu Wenzhou squeezes his hand again, just because he can. The other pats its way up Huang Shaotian’s arm from elbow to shoulder. His frame is solid beneath the hoodie, if a little on the scrawny side.
Yu Wenzhou drags his eyes away from Huang Shaotian, over to the one person who might be able to give him answers. “How is this possible?”
Wei Chen looks between them with a strange expression on his face, like isn’t sure whether he wants to gloat or to flee. He gestures at Huang Shaotian with his chin. “I’ll let him tell you that.”
It’s the smirk that convinces Yu Wenzhou this is actually happening. There’s no creeping realization; it’s like being decked in the face. Or rather, what Yu Wenzhou imagines being decked in the face would feel like, considering he’s never been in a physical fight in his entire life. Except for the hair-pulling incident when he was about three years old, the one his parents love to talk about whenever they feel the need to embarrass him. Somehow, he doesn’t think that counts.
This is real. Somehow, against all odds, Huang Shaotian is here. There are so many things Yu Wenzhou wants to say but all that comes out is—
“Shaotian.”
Huang Shaotian gives a little wave with the hand not caught in Yu Wenzhou’s grip. “Are you happy to see me?” It’s his usual enthusiasm but they’ve spent enough time playing Glory together that Yu Wenzhou can see the uncertainty behind his bravado.
All of his thoughts are too big for words. The world around him narrows until it’s only him and Huang Shaotian, together in the same room for the very first time. It’s impossible and yet there’s no denying the truth of it.
Yu Wenzhou does the only thing he can think of. He pulls Huang Shaotian into his arms and hugs him. There’s a high-pitched yelp and then a pair of arms cling to the back of his jacket in return. Yu Wenzhou breathes it all in, catching the scent of unfamiliar laundry detergent and a citrus tang of soap. Huang Shaotian is a mass of oversized hoodie in his arms. Or rather, a mass of oversized hoodie with a loud mouth that hasn’t stopped talking since he hugged Yu Wenzhou back.
“Good. Good, that’s good. You said we were friends so I thought… But that was when I was stuck in Glory and this is different so I didn’t know. But it’s great, I’m so glad.” The words are mostly muffled, spoken into the crook of Yu Wenzhou’s neck, but Yu Wenzhou has been deciphering Troubling Rain’s mid-battle trash talk for so long that it’s second nature to parse it into a coherent sentence.
“You’re here,” Yu Wenzhou says, probably not for the first time, but it’s not every day he’s faced with a dead friend coming back to life.
Huang Shaotian squirms, and reluctantly Yu Wenzhou lets him go. “About that…” For the first time, he looks uncomfortable.
Yu Wenzhou opens his mouth to reassure him that he can tell Yu Wenzhou anything. And then his brain kicks back up to speed and informs him that they still have an audience.
In his defense, Yu Wenzhou stopped thinking about practice the moment Huang Shaotian walked into the room. But the fact remains that he was in the middle of a tactics lecture and the entire team is still present, hovering a respectful distance away but very much watching them both. The ones who were here last year look as shocked as Yu Wenzhou feels, though some of it must be fading because Zhu Lei is grinning where he’s hiding behind Song Xiao, and Yu Wenzhou is fairly sure Zheng Xuan isn’t on his phone out of boredom but because he’s texting Zhang Boqing. And possibly also Wu Yuming, who has never met a bit of gossip he didn’t like.
Hopefully, he’s texting to say that Troubling Rain is real, rather than any further speculation about Yu Wenzhou’s love life. It’s a faint hope and he knows it. After the spectacle they just put on, he expects that the boyfriend rumors will be starting up again.
Yu Wenzhou clears his throat, and all eyes in the room snap towards him. “Practice is canceled.”
Zheng Xuan redeems himself by herding everyone out the door until it’s just Yu Wenzhou and Huang Shaotian. And Wei Chen, who apparently doesn’t care about Yu Wenzhou’s instructions to the team.
“How is this possible?” Yu Wenzhou asks again.
A sheepish expression crosses Huang Shaotian’s face. His eyes dart around the room before settling on Yu Wenzhou. “You remember the part about me being dead, right? I know that you know because you told me that one time in Glory. You said ‘Huang Shaotian, you’re dead.’”
Yu Wenzhou is fairly certain that is not what he said but now is hardly the time. He settles for a brief, “It’s hard to forget.”
“About that. Funny story actually. Or maybe not funny. Funny like strange, not funny funny.” Huang Shaotian waves a hand, as if waving off his supposed death is a thing he does every day. “I didn’t know either, at first. I thought I was dead too, but I wasn’t!”
Not even listening intently can make any of that make sense. Yu Wenzhou frowns. “That’s not an explanation.”
Huang Shaotian shuffles forwards and then back again, wringing his hands and taking one more step toward Yu Wenzhou. “I was in a coma. The doctors said I should have woken up a long time ago, but I didn’t. No one knows why, I guess because I was trapped in Glory. No one thought I would ever wake up again. But then I met you and you helped me. That day when I left, I didn’t move on. I started waking up.” He wiggles his fingers. “And now here I am, isn’t it great! I’ve been wanting to meet you for real for so long.”
It’s so much to take in. Yu Wenzhou latches on to a giant inconsistency in the story, tugging at it like a lifeline. “The day you left. That was almost six months ago.”
Huang Shaotian shoves his hands into the front pockets of his hoodie, rocking back and forth on his heels. “I said I started to wake up. It took a while. Normally I’m fast—I’m so fast—but…” he gnaws at his lips, eyes flitting over to Wei Chen and back again. “I was asleep for a long time. Everything was hard. Waking up. Moving. Even playing Glory.”
Understanding settles over Yu Wenzhou, and he regrets pushing for details. It couldn’t have been easy for Huang Shaotian, he probably had to relearn how to do a lot of things, and to regain his strength after sleeping for so long. “You look good now.”
“I’m great! I’m the best.” He lunges to the side, tugging at Wei Chen’s arm where he’s trying to slowly sneak himself out of the conversation. “Boss Wei helped me so much, he’s the nicest.”
Wei Chen frantically shakes his head at this turn of the conversation, but Huang Shaotian either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, continuing to rattle on about how Wei Chen visited him in the hospital all summer long and brought good food and helped him practice Glory until he was even better than he used to be. Until he was good enough to come to Blue Rain like he was always meant to.
The rest of the details come pouring forth. About how Huang Shaotian was mistakenly reported dead the day he was stabbed, and how his parents decided not to correct the record in fear of retribution from his assailant. “I was so surprised when I woke up and I wanted to see you so badly, Wenzhou, but I thought it would be good to wait until I was better.”
Yu Wenzhou nods past the twisting in his stomach. This whole time, he could have been doing something instead of moping at his parents’ house. He could have been helping. Yu Wenzhou wouldn’t have cared that Huang Shaotian was recovering in a hospital, that he wasn’t at his best. He would have visited every day if he’d known.
Perhaps Huang Shaotian can read the regret on his face, because he jumps to the next topic. “Anyway, I’m here now and I thought…” he trails off, looking over at Wei Chen like he’s waiting for something.
Wei Chen offers a thin stack of typed papers.
“What’s this?” Yu Wenzhou asks, even as he takes it. He doesn’t wait for an answer, already skimming the top page. The more he reads, the more his eyes widen behind his glasses.
Wei Chen’s voice snaps him out of it. “Didn’t you once tell me you wished you had a partner like Troubling Rain on the team.”
It shouldn’t be possible, but Wei Chen looks even smugger than usual.
The piece of paper is a formal medical exemption signed by the Head of the Fairness Sub-Committee of the Glory Pro Alliance. Usually, it isn’t permissible for a team to take on a new player outside of the allotted Winter and Summer windows. The current season has already begun, it should be too late for any new players to join the team. But the piece of paper in Yu Wenzhou’s hands says otherwise.
“It’s all legit,” Wei Chen hastens to reassure him. “I know plenty about following the rules. Just because it’s boring doesn’t mean I can’t do it.” He sets a hand on Huang Shaotian’s shoulder. “And Shaotian knows it isn’t a sure thing. Only the captain can recommend a new player.”
“And only the manager can approve it,” Yu Wenzhou shoots back. When Wei Chen only looks more obnoxiously pleased with himself, Yu Wenzhou sighs. “Let me guess. You’ve already spoken to her and got her on board.”
“This old man knows how to get things done, don’t you forget it.”
Yu Wenzhou isn’t sure if he wants to hug Wei Chen for everything he’s done, or kick him in the balls. “This whole time, you knew.”
“You’re welcome.”
Scratch that, Yu Wenzhou definitely wants to kick him in the balls. But after all the secrets he himself kept in the beginning, he’s willing to call it even. Judging by the ever-present obnoxious smirk on Wei Chen’s face, he’s followed the lines of Yu Wenzhou’s thinking and come to the same conclusion.
Wei Chen gives a final wink before he straightens, his entire face going serious. He turns towards Huang Shaotian and takes out a card from his pocket. “I picked this up from the guild this morning. I believe it belongs to you.”
Huang Shaotian bounces on his feet and snatches Troubling Rain from his hand.
He goes still when Wei Chen rests both hands on his shoulders. “See brat, told you I’d finally get you here. Work hard okay. Show the captain what you’ve got.” He shifts one hand to squeeze the side of Huang Shaotian’s neck, and then with a last look, he turns and leaves the room.
Yu Wenzhou doesn’t quite realize what he’s referring to until Huang Shaotian holds up the card, a hopeful look on his face. And then he rushes up to Yu Wenzhou, and the approaching sight of him is so familiar that Yu Wenzhou could swear he’s been physically transported back to Glory.
“Come on, come on, let’s play. Let me show you how good I am! I’m the best, most handsome Blade Master you’ve ever seen! Fight me!”
There are a thousand things Yu Wenzhou wants to say to him, but excitement bubbles up in his chest at the thought of playing Glory with Huang Shaotian for real. All those times he wished for this exact thing, and now he can make it come true.
He opens up a private room in the arena.
It doesn’t take long for Yu Wenzhou to see that Huang Shaotian isn’t just good, he’s amazing. If anything, he’s even better than he was as a ghost in Glory. Privately, Yu Wenzhou had reservations about Wei Chen’s blatant maneuvering to get Huang Shaotian on the team. Yu Wenzhou had just gotten his friend back, the last thing he wanted was to crush his feelings by not letting him onto the professional team. It would have been painful to do, but Yu Wenzhou would have done it. He’s the captain, he can’t make roster decisions based on personal feelings.
“Watch me, watch me, watch me! That’s right, no one can stop my blade. The fastest, the best, slash slash slash! Come at me! Wait, you can’t because I’m too fast. Sword Draw! Triple Slash! Downward Strike!”
Swoksaar nearly gets his head taken off when Troubling Rain’s actions don’t follow his words. He should be used to it, he played with Troubling Rain enough to know how he fights, but somehow Huang Shaotian has gotten even sharper since then. Yu Wenzhou suspects Wei Chen wasn’t just bringing him food and entertaining him for the past several months, but also training him as a pro player.
When the last match is over, Yu Wenzhou wipes the sweat from his forehead and leans back in his chair. Exhilaration races through his blood.
The last few fights were done in the team’s training environment; him and Huang Shaotian against a pair of high-level training programs. Playing alongside him was like working with the partner he always dreamed of having. It wasn’t a perfect fit, but it’s so close that Yu Wenzhou’s breath catches at the memory of their final takedown. He hadn’t even warned Huang Shaotian what he was planning, but he stepped in to make the final strike so cleanly that it was as if they were a single person acting in unison.
His fears are all but gone. Any team would be thrilled to have a player like Huang Shaotian. But they’re all out of luck because Yu Wenzhou found him first. He swivels in his chair, facing Huang Shaotian, who looks just as elated as himself. His face is flushed and he’s breathing hard, his eyes shining so bright Yu Wenzhou nearly has to look away.
“Well? How did I do, was I good?”
Yu Wenzhou shuffles through the papers Wei Chen brought him until he finds what he needs. He slides the bundle over the Huang Shaotian, the header in bold proclaiming New Player Contract Agreement.
When the paperwork is signed and Huang Shaotian is properly introduced to the team, Yu Wenzhou pulls Zheng Xuan aside.
“Last chance to stay on as vice-captain.” He’s mostly teasing but he’s also dead serious. Zheng Xuan was a good partner and a good friend. If he wants to change his mind and stay on, Yu Wenzhou won’t take that from him.
Zheng Xuan buries his head in his hands. “Please, no, don’t make me.”
Yu Wenzhou pats him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, I have someone else in mind.”
Zheng Xuan peeks through his fingers, dropping his hands when no vice-captain-related ambushes are sprung. His eyes are sharp when he asks, “Is it him?”
“Are you okay with that?” It isn’t an empty question. Zheng Xuan is a good indication of the team as a whole. If he thinks Yu Wenzhou is playing favorites, he won’t be the only one.
It’s a long moment before Zheng Xuan grins. “Are you kidding? We all saw him in practice yesterday, he’s amazing. A good choice.” He nods to himself, already lost in his thoughts.
Yu Wenzhou leaves him to it, pleased that the matter is settled. All he has to do is convince Huang Shaotian.
Convincing Huang Shaotian turns out to be surprisingly easy.
Yu Wenzhou finds him in the dining hall, shoveling food into his mouth with such fervor he’s tempted to reassure him that it won’t run out. It isn’t surprising he’s the only one there, it’s late enough that even the late stragglers have finished their lunch.
“This place is delicious.” Huang Shaotian looks up, his cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk as Yu Wenzhou takes the opposite seat at the small table. The words are more like a muffled string of nonsense, but Yu Wenzhou gets the picture.
He slides a glass of brightly colored juice closer to Huang Shaotian, who gulps it down.
“Thanks. My doctor said I need to eat a lot this year to make up for being in bed for so long.”
He doesn’t consciously decide to do it, but Yu Wenzhou takes an energy bar out of his pocket that he was saving for later. “Here.” He pushes it across the table. “Keep this just in case.”
A swift hand darts out and hides the bar away into one of Huang Shaotian's many pockets. “Thanks, Captain.”
It isn’t the first time Huang Shaotian has called him that, but it doesn’t stop the little spark of pleasure that shoots down Yu Wenzhou’s spine. He hasn’t dared think too closely about it, whether he’s pleased because Huang Shaotian is alive and here with him, or because of something deeper. Something that—now that Huang Shaotian is no longer trapped in Glory—has a chance to become real.
He forces his expression into something neutral. He actually came here for a purpose, and it wasn’t to give away his snacks. “What do you think of being my vice-captain?” he says, aiming for casual and hoping he hasn’t failed miserably.
Huang Shaotian clearly has no such compulsions about being casual. He jolts to attention. “Vice-captain! Me? But I don’t know how to be vice-captain. Do I have to take a test? I was terrible at tests in school, they’re so boring.”
“There aren’t any tests, though I can make one up if you like.” The tension in his spine loosens now that he can guess which way this conversation will go. He props his elbows on the table and leans in. “You just have to say yes.”
Huang Shaotian leans forward too, as if drawn by an invisible force. “Okay.”
Yu Wenzhou taps his lip, pretending to mull it over. “That wasn’t a yes.”
He doesn’t miss the way Huang Shaotian’s eyes track the trajectory of his finger. A memory surfaces, crystal clear in his mind. The day Troubling Rain disappeared from Glory. The edges are clouded by hurt, but Yu Wenzhou can still feel the phantom warmth against his lips.
He doesn’t know what comes over him, but suddenly it’s imperative that he know for sure. The question slips out before he can think better of it. “Shaotian, did you kiss me that day?” Heat rushes to his face but it’s too late to take it back, he can only go forward. “The day you left,” he clarifies.
This close, he can see Huang Shaotian’s mouth part just slightly, his eyes going wide. His muscles twitch like he’s about to retreat, and Yu Wenzhou grabs his hands before he can move. They stay like that, anchored together across the table.
“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” Huang Shaotian’s voice is low, distant. “I was scared and I didn’t know what was happening and I wanted…” he shrugs. “I wanted to see how it would feel with you. Just once. And I know I should have asked but it all happened so fast. I’m sorry.”
Yu Wenzhou squeezes their joined hands. “I’m not.” He strokes his thumb along Huang Shaotian’s knuckles. “I’d like to do it again.”
Huang Shaotian’s head shoots up, shock giving way to a large, happy grin. “Really?”
“If you’d like.”
“Yes! Yes, yes, please.”
Yu Wenzhou can’t help himself. Maybe it’s because Huang Shaotian is so close, or perhaps because he’s always been fun to tease. “Was that a yes for kissing or for being vice-captain?” An uncomfortable thought makes him pull back, but he forgets to let go, and their joined hands mean he can’t go very far. “You don’t have to say yes to both. I want you to be my vice-captain, either way.” He hopes he hasn’t screwed this up, he’s usually more thoughtful than this.
A tug on his hands draws him out of his thoughts. “That big brain of yours never stops, does it. What if I only want to kiss you, huh? Only kisses, no vice-captain. Did your big brain think about that?”
“That’s okay too.”
Huang Shaotian shakes his head, looking far too pleased with himself. “No, no, too late, I’ve decided. I want both. No take backs!”
What else can Yu Wenzhou do but oblige? He moves slowly, his pulse ringing in his ears, galloping as hard as in any professional match. Vaguely, he’s aware of Huang Shaotian squeezing his hands tight, and then there are lips pressed against his own.
The last time he felt the light brush of Huang Shaotian’s lips, it was a goodbye. Here, in the empty Blue Rain dining hall, kissing his new vice-captain, it’s a beginning.
It turns out Yu Wenzhou was right. Season Six is going to be a good one.
The thought is broken by a stampede of footsteps and a quiet, “Oh no, my eyes,” that can only belong to Zheng Xuan.
Yu Wenzhou and Huang Shaotian jump apart but it’s too late. A chorus of whistles and a few shouts of “Go Captain!” fill the air. Several team members wave at them both.
And then as quickly as they come, the team descends on the basket of snacks and leaves again. On their way out, Song Xiao winks at them both. For a long moment once they’re all gone, Yu Wenzhou can do nothing but stare.
A choked-off sound makes him whip around in his chair. His concern is swept away when Huang Shaotian isn’t visibly upset. Instead, he’s doubled over, fist shoved into his mouth to keep from laughing. The absurdity hits Yu Wenzhou full in the face, and the next thing he knows, he’s caught up in it, too, laughing so hard he has to steal Huang Shaotian’s juice so he doesn’t choke. The sweetness of the drink makes him blanch, but it’s better than nothing.
“Let’s not do this in the dining hall next time,” Yu Wenzhou says, once he catches his breath.
Huang Shaotian immediately perks up. “Great idea, Captain. Do you know what’s an even better idea?” He gets to his feet and tugs Yu Wenzhou to his. “Let’s go do it somewhere else.”
Like so many times in Glory, Yu Wenzhou trails after Huang Shaotian as he continues to talk. At least this time, the inevitable gossip about his love life won’t be wrong.
Months later, after Huang Shaotian has become an established presence in the professional scene, making a name for himself with both his blade and his mouth, a commentator uses the term Sword and Curse for the first time. Yu Wenzhou nearly drops his notebook when he hears it during a playback of Blue Rain’s match.
It feels like a lifetime ago when Troubling Rain used those exact same words.
You better run or Sword and Curse will kill you dead.
Whether it’s coincidence or something more—something meant to be—Yu Wenzhou doesn’t know. But a moment later, when Huang Shaotian bursts into the room in an excitable ball of ideas and curls himself into Yu Wenzhou’s side to analyze their opponent’s last match together, Yu Wenzhou decides it doesn’t matter. What matters is that Huang Shaotian is here, fitting into his life like he’s always been there.
Neither of them notice when the team finds them like that hours later, asleep on the couch in Yu Wenzhou’s office. And more importantly, no one will admit who took the photograph of Blue Rain’s sleeping Sword and Curse that ends up as Wei Chen’s screensaver.
