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The new rookie is annoying.
Reluctantly, Zheng Xuan sits up from his very relaxing nap. The training room couch is so comfortable, squishy enough to sink into but firm enough so his back doesn’t ache. He rubs a hand over his face. “What do you want?” It’s supposed to be a demand but he yawns in the middle of it.
“I can’t practice over your snoring.” Yu Feng, the new rookie, crosses his arms and glares.
Practice? They already had practice in the morning and soon it would be practice again. Wasn't that enough? Zheng Xuan lays back down and shuts his eyes. Was he ever that young and ambitious? He hopes not.
“What are you doing?” Yu Feng again. He shifts on his feet, like he can't wait to get back to his computer.
These rookies have so much stamina. Zheng Xuan is tired just thinking about it. “Resting,” he says.
“But practice is in—”
“Twenty-three minutes.” A spare throw pillow does wonders for blocking out the light when Zheng Xuan shoves it over his face.
He thinks he hears a muttered, “So lazy,” but Yu Feng leaves him alone so it’s a win.
Twenty-three minutes later, Zheng Xuan is sitting at his usual seat, bright-eyed and well-rested. From the corner of his eye, he sees Yu Feng yawn and winks at him. He gets a scowl in return, and then Yu Wenzhou starts speaking and they both snap their attention towards the whiteboard.
.
That lazy guy is so annoying. Are all the veterans this obnoxious?
But no, that isn’t right. Song Xiao takes their practices seriously and even Huang Shaotian’s loudness can’t hide how dedicated he is. And who could say a bad word about their captain? No one, that’s who. Yu Wenzhou is the picture of a hardworking team player, putting the team above himself in the hopes of bringing home a championship.
That’s what Yu Feng wants. To stand on the stage, victorious under the eyes of the fans and pro players alike. He wants to matter, for people to remember his name.
He doesn’t understand a guy like Zheng Xuan. Because there he is again, napping in the training room. It’s a brand new day and he’s fast asleep instead of practicing. Doesn’t he care about winning?
Before he realizes what he’s doing, he’s standing in front of the couch, kicking at the metal legs. “Wake up, it’s almost practice.”
“Six minutes,” Zheng Xuan slurs, before rolling over so his back is to the room.
Yu Feng just doesn’t get it. He slots his account card into the reader, but all throughout practice he can’t concentrate on Glory. His thoughts are whirling. Why do they let Zheng Xuan stay? He spends so much time zoning out, even when he’s playing. Sure, he manages to hit his marks when they practice strategy but Yu Feng gets the sense it’s half luck that speeds him along. What kind of pro player has no ambition?
“Yu Feng, is something wrong?”
The voice breaks him from the stormcloud of his thoughts, and he realizes he’s been staring at Zheng Xuan's empty seat. Practice is over and they’re the only two people left in the room. Heat rushes to his ears. Of all people to catch him daydreaming, why did it have to be the captain?
“Why is he here?” Yu Feng blurts out before he can stop himself. “I mean, Zheng Xuan’s a good player but he’s never all here.” He taps at his temple. “Even in the matches, you can tell he’s drifting. Wouldn't we be better with a more serious player.”
And oh crap, he’s in for it now. The captain is going to swap him out during the winter transfer for this. Everyone knows Blue Rain is a tight-knit team.
But Yu Wenzhou only tilts his head, like he’s giving the question due consideration. “Wouldn’t we also be better with a faster player?”
“What does that have to do with—” Yu Feng cuts himself off so fast he nearly bites through his lip. His eyes flicker to where Yu Wenzhou is spinning a pen between his fingers. “No! That’s not what I meant, I didn’t say that!”
“I know. But it’s the same thing. Should we trade Shaotian for someone who doesn't talk so much. Or find a replacement for Song Xiao who could play better during the regular season and set us up for a stronger playoff series. What's important is that everyone steps up when they’re needed. If we had that team of perfect players, who would we be? Would we all work together as well as we do?”
Yu Feng doesn’t think the question is meant to be answered, so he keeps his mouth shut. He’s in enough trouble already.
Yu Wenzhou nods like he can see straight into Yu Feng’s brain. He’s heard the mind-reading rumors, mostly from Huang Shaotian, but he’s never given them much consideration until today.
“Zheng Xuan is there when it counts, as is Song Xiao and Shaotian and myself, and everyone on the team.” Yu Wenzhou rests a hand on Yu Feng’s shoulder. “As are you. Everyone has a role to play.”
“Yes Captain.” Yu Feng watches him retreat, heart in his throat.
He gives the captain’s words a lot of thought, but the next week in competition Zheng Xuan visibly drifts off during the Individual Competition and only barely manages to win. And yet his place on the main roster remains rock solid.
Why can’t that guy take things more seriously?
.
Zheng Xuan doesn’t ask for much. A job doing what he loves, good teammates, free food. And a nice nap or two in his free time.
He squints an eye open and yup, there’s Yu Feng looking constipated. “You again.” He rubs his eyes but the sight doesn’t change. Why can’t that guy be a little less intense?
“Why don’t you ever practice?” Yu Feng asks, hands on his hips. “Don’t you care about getting better?”
Zheng Xuan could tell him that too much practice isn’t always a good thing, but that’s something Yu Feng will have to figure out on his own. He’s a good player, an amazing player really, but his obsessive drive is either going to burn him out or lead him to disappointment. Even Huang Shaotian, who loves Glory with his whole heart, occasionally puts his account card away to collect comics and feed his weird snowglobe obsession.
Life is about balance, and Zheng Xuan is pleased to have found one that suits him. One day if he's lucky, Yu Feng will learn the same.
“You’ll figure it out eventually,” is what he tells Yu Feng. He adds a grumpy fist shake because he’s still tired and cranky from lack of sleep. “And stop interrupting my naps, I won’t be so nice next time.”
He does, however, sneak a can of iced coffee into Yu Feng’s backpack for when he inevitably crashes after too much practice and too little sleep.
.
I can do this, Yu Feng tells himself. It’s the same thing he said to the captain during their last practice. I can do this, I can draw them away, you can count on me.
Except Tyranny doesn’t take the bait. Well, they do but not in the way the plan called for. Yu Wenzhou had warned him it was a possibility. Zhang Xinjie is the kind of tactician who prepares for everything and doesn’t believe in overkill. And now Yu Feng is surrounded and if he bites it, the whole team is screwed.
Sweat drips down the back of his neck. The player booth has never felt so hot. Not that he has many matches for comparison, but he’s sure it was never this sweltering. But there’s no time to rest, no time to think, not with the constant barrage of spells and fists raining down on him. It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for the damn Assassin who seemed to be everywhere at once.
> YF, regroup. Contingency.
Yu Wenzhou’s instructions flash in the team chat, mocking him. Yu Feng can see his health falling but he can’t break free.
Sorry, Captain.
He draws breath to shout a warning, so anyone in range will know he can’t hold on, when a hail of bullets forces his opponents to scatter. Another quickly follows, brutal and relentless and exactly what Yu Feng needs. There’s no time to be surprised at this new, terrifying side of Zheng Xuan’s Bullet Rain. Yu Feng explodes into action, syncing Brilliant Edge’s movements with the bursts of gunfire and retreating along the path Yu Wenzhou’s contingency plan called for.
Blue Rain wins the game. The MVP of the match is given to Yu Feng.
On the bus ride back home, he sits next to Zheng Xuan. “Thanks for pulling me out of the fire back there.” He doesn’t understand Zheng Xuan but he knows top-notch playing when he sees it and today, Zheng Xuan was incredible. Maybe all those naps of his aren’t such a waste after all.
“We make a good team,” Zheng Xuan says, pulling out a bottled water from his backpack and offering it one-handed.
It’s one of those cheap generic brands from the arena’s interview room, but suddenly Yu Feng is too parched to care. He downs the whole thing in a few large gulps. Staring at the empty bottle, he hopes it wasn’t meant to be shared, but when he catches sight of Zheng Xuan drinking from a second bottle, he breathes a sigh of relief.
A thought hits him, so absurd and perfect that he can't keep it to himself. “Who needs Blood and Blossoms when we have Brilliant Bullets.”
Zheng Xuan groans. “That’s terrible. Don’t call it that.”
“Don’t insult it if you don’t have something better.”
They spend the whole ride back home arguing over increasingly terrible names.
Yu Wenzhou must agree about their synergy, because over the next several months they’re paired together more and more, both in practice and on the field. They fit surprisingly well, Zheng Xuan’s laid back style giving Yu Feng room to shine without dragging them down.
The next time Yu Feng sees Zheng Xuan on the couch before practice, he covers him with his jacket and lets him sleep.