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He’s never had much say or control in his life. From the beginning, even as a child, his parents were always busy. No matter how much he begged to spend time together, he was brushed aside. Looking back as an adult, he can understand- they have to work to be able to provide. He wouldn’t have understood that then. It’s only natural, of course.
But, against his wishes, he’d spend most of his childhood with his grandma.
Then, before he knew it, his father passed away…
He might have cried, he isn’t sure. He doesn’t have too many memories with his father to remember fondly or grieve upon.
Then, it was his mom next.
If he was even asked how they passed away, he’s not sure he could answer that
The one that affected him the most had to be when his grandma fell sick. He was a teenager at the time, coming home from school and noticing the coughs becoming more frequent, the more time she spent in bed…
Zhao Yu would do anything for his grandma. Anything to bring her ease and comfort, afford to care for her and all her worries. He was the only she had in his life that he could say he had fond memories with. He would do anything for her. He had to.
By some luck of fortune - or misfortune - he’d been given radiant powers.
It’s all a blur he went from being Li Zhao Yu to Dead Lilac after that.
It didn’t take much to convince him either. As long as Scions of Hourglass kept up their side of the contract to send money home to his grandma, it was fine. Every bullet he shot, life he took, place to place he traveled… none of that mattered. In a way it became ironic.
Not understanding his parents leaving him to work to he himself constantly busy with target after target to take down to be able to provide for someone he loves…
Life’s ironic.
The only time he felt like he actually had control of his life was only after he left being Dead Lilac to being Iso.
It was like a weight was lifted off of his shoulders. No longer was he just mindlessly and numbingly following orders. Although he’d wonder why, he never would have dared question their motives or asked for more information. They made it clear.
Kill the target, get paid, repeat. No questions asked.
Like an obedient dog he followed his orders. No questions asked.
Dead Lilac wouldn’t have dared uttered a question.
But it felt like Iso could finally breathe within Valorant’s welcoming walls.
He’s allowed to say no. He could voice a concern or ask a question. He could actually talk to his coworkers- or should he call them friends?
It feels something of a home. Something he hasn’t been to in a long while.
Somehow they’ve accepted him even though he was sent to kill one of their own. Of course it didn’t happen overnight… Iso is sure at least one or two of the agents probably have suspicions in the back of their mind and he’d understand. He would have the very same worries of being double crossed- but they’d made sure he couldn’t.
Hourglass has no idea where he is now and if they do ever find him, he’ll be as good as dead.
Some of them are open about their suspicions: Cypher. The one who caught him and knew from the start Iso joined with ulterior motives. So Iso figures it’s why he hounds him the most for as much information as possible. Unfortunately, he can’t provide much. Iso’s been as truthful as he can be. He has to prove his loyalty truly does lie with the Valorant protocol now. But Cypher still questions him and presses him multiple times a week.
Brimstone, please…
It’s not all bad though.
Sage.
Iso’s breath hitches even just thinking of her.
No mission Hourglass gave him made him even slightly nervous. Not like this.
The former assassin can’t quite place his feelings for her…
She’s kind to everyone, he notes. She reminds him a tad of his grandma, always fussing over the smallest cuts. He watches from afar as Sage will scold various agents, but behind the scolding anyone could tell there was worry in her voice and she clearly cares for her friends.
Her family.
Is he family to her, too?
He hasn’t been in the protocol that long, it’s only been a few months. But all the same she smiles at him. She scolds him. She tenderly applies bandages on him and cleans his wounds. Praises him, but doesn’t scold him too harshly if a target slips away.
They share meals together and stories of the streets they grew up on, having both grown up in China (albeit different parts), but can relate to eating the same comfort foods. Could relate to parents not being around much in their lives. Could relate to being directionless. Feeling helpless.
She affectionately ruffles his hair every now and then, reminding him he doesn’t need to overextend himself and there’s no need to feel pressured around her- around them. The whole protocol.
It’s only when there’s just the two of them left, his arm bleeding as he grunts and presses against the wound did he realize;
He was always on a leash. He didn’t actually have much of a choice.
He’s getting a sense of déjà vu.
That’s right, he thinks.
This isn’t the first time they’ve been in a situation where he has multiple wounds and he can feel himself fighting to keep his eyes open, struggling to maintain his breath, his eyes fluttering shut and things go dark… it feels like he’s slipping under water as he lets out a shallow breath.
This feeling… it’s terrifying how familiar he’s become with it.
He’s dying.
He should be dead.
It won’t last long.
There’s no words he could put together to possibly even try to make sense of what dying and being forced back to life feels like. It certainly isn’t pleasant. Perhaps this sensation and experience is different and more pleasant for the other agents to slip a ‘thank you’ to Sage- but for him it feels like being ripped out of the silence and being enveloped in a darkness to light shining his face and waking him up as if someone threw ice cold water on him. A warped feeling inside him, his soul being pushed back into his body for who knows what number of times…
She won’t let any of them die. She’s the healer with a blessed ability to revive and care for their wounds. But she doesn’t force her revivals on anyone as much as him.
She’s gripping the leash she has on him and refusing to let go.
Valorant protocol needs him, is what she says.
Is that it? Is it true? When she revives him and forces him back from the grave, is she excusing it as Valorant needs him?
He gulped thickly one night, hesitant, but knocking upon her door to have a fresh wound inspected and cleaned. He decides to ask then;
“Sage… have you ever thought about letting one of us pass on if we asked? Even the best of the best must get tired and want to let go sometimes.”
A silence in the air as the scissors she holds snips a piece of a bandage, slicing through the quiet.
“No.”
She doesn’t elaborate. She has a smile on her face, fingers running across various scars on his arm before fixing her attention to the newest addition. The smile does not seem to reach her eyes, he notes. That familiarity and gentleness seems gone.
He isn’t allowed to die.
It’s a terrifying realization.
Her hands then go to his cheeks, caressing them, thumbs ever so gently gliding across. The smile on her face stays as she runs a thumb across the bandaid on his cheek meant to hide a scar from many years ago from his childhood.
Despite the realization, he can’t help but stare back at her. He wonders if his face and eyes give away the adoration he has for her. Does his expression give away his feelings? Feelings so deep that despite the realization he isn’t allowed to even die and know peace as long as she’s around, that he still feels strongly for her?
No more words are spoken as they stare at each other. None need to be said; it seems they both understand.
If he dies, it won’t be for long.
Her hands move from his face to his hair, fingers slowly carding through it. He obediently leans into her touch. Iso’s eyes flutter shut. A relieved sigh manages to escape his lips.
Good dogs just listen. He doesn’t need to ask questions. Just follow orders.
Just listen to her.
No questions asked.