Chapter Text
The hum of the range's machinery echoed faintly through the hallways of the base, a steady rhythm that had become background noise to Mateo. He wandered the halls, hands in his pockets, his mind half-focused on the tasks he'd been avoiding all morning. It had been a long few weeks for everyone, and while most of the team had opted for some downtime, Mateo found himself gravitating toward the range, like a magnet drawn to a familiar pull.
And then, he saw it — the window overlooking the simulation, with Zhao Yu inside.
Mateo’s footsteps slowed as he approached, eyes immediately locking onto the figure moving within the wide, high-tech space. The training grounds were enormous, a mix of open stretches and dark, metallic walls designed to replicate battlefield conditions. It was the kind of place that tested your agility, endurance, and marksmanship all at once. And Zhao Yu was right in the middle of it.
Through the thick glass, Mateo watched as Zhao Yu darted from cover to cover, his movements precise, controlled, almost too fast for Mateo to follow. He had his sheriff in hand, the weapon raised with a confidence that spoke of countless hours of practice. The sleek black bots— designed to mimic enemy combatants—sprang to life around him, flanking his position from multiple angles.
Zhao Yu didn’t flinch.
In one fluid motion, he activates his shield, behind a low wall before popping out and firing two quick shots. The shots were perfect—two bots crumpled to the ground in a shower of sparks, their metallic bodies collapsing like marionettes with cut strings.
Mateo swallowed hard, leaning against the window, unable to tear his gaze away. He wasn’t sure what it was about watching Zhao Yu train that kept him so entranced. Maybe it was the sheer skill, the way every movement was deliberate, precise. Or maybe it was something deeper, something that made Mateo’s chest tighten every time Zhao Yu moved like that, every time he controlled the space around him with such ease.
Zhao Yu moved with an elegance that Mateo had never seen in anyone else. The way his body twisted and turned, reacting perfectly to the unpredictable movements of the bots, was almost hypnotic. Mateo found himself pressing his palms against the window, his breath fogging the glass as he watched.
The simulation shifted, new bots emerging from hidden doorways, their sensors locking onto Zhao Yu’s position. Mateo could see the faint glow of their targeting lasers slicing through the air, but Zhao Yu was already moving. His shoes hit the ground with barely a sound as he sprinted toward a stack of metal boxes, sliding into cover just as a hail of bullets rained down where he had been moments before.
Mateo’s pulse quickened. He knew this was just training, that there was no real danger, but the intensity on Zhao Yu’s face made it feel all too real. His jaw was set, his eyes focused as he quickly swapped his sheriff for a vandal slung across his back. Mateo could see the concentration in every movement, the way Zhao Yu’s fingers flew over the weapon’s controls, adjusting the settings with a practiced ease.
Without hesitation, Zhao Yu sprang from his cover, the rifle spitting rounds with deadly accuracy. Every shot hit its mark, each bot falling with a loud clatter as they were deactivated one by one. Zhao Yu never stopped moving, his feet light on the ground, weaving through the chaos as if it were nothing more than a choreographed dance.
Mateo could feel his heartbeat in his throat, his entire body tensing as he watched the scene unfold. There was something magnetic about the way Zhao Yu moved — like he was in complete control of not just his body, but the entire space around him. It was like watching an artist at work, every motion purposeful, every shot deliberate.
The last bot fell with a metallic thud, its lights dimming as it powered down. Zhao Yu straightened, his chest rising and falling in steady breaths, the vandal still gripped loosely in his hand. His expression was calm, focused, as if the chaos of the last few minutes hadn’t fazed him in the slightest.
Mateo found himself exhaling a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He stood there, frozen, his eyes still glued to Zhao Yu’s figure as he walked toward the control panel to reset the simulation. The room fell silent, save for the faint mechanical whirr of the bots being retracted into the floor.
Mateo’s pulse was still racing.
Zhao Yu wiped the sweat from his brow, his dark black hair sticking to his forehead. There was a calmness about him now, the storm of battle subsiding as he took a moment to catch his breath. Mateo couldn’t help but notice how the faint light from the overhead lamps highlighted the sharp angles of his face, the way his skin glistened from the exertion.
It wasn’t the first time Mateo had found himself watching Zhao Yu like this. He had been doing it more often than he cared to admit — lingering in the hallways, watching from behind the glass that peered into range, stealing glances during briefings. There was something about Zhao Yu that drew him in, something he couldn’t quite put into words.
It wasn’t just admiration, though Mateo had plenty of that. Zhao Yu was everything Mateo wasn’t — disciplined, controlled, focused. He had this quiet intensity, a presence that commanded attention without even trying. And the more time Mateo spent around him, the more he found himself captivated by it.
A soft knock on the glass startled Mateo out of his thoughts. He blinked, realizing that Zhao Yu was now standing directly in front of the window, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. Mateo’s face flushed as he realized he had been caught.
Zhao Yu tapped the glass again, his expression unreadable but with a hint of amusement in his eyes. He gestured for Mateo to come inside, pointing to the door leading into the range.
Mateo hesitated for a moment, his mind racing. He could feel his heart thudding in his chest as he slowly made his way toward the door, wondering what Zhao Yu was going to say. When he pushed it open, the cool air of the range hit his face, the metallic scent of gunpowder lingering in the air.
Zhao Yu lowered his weapon, leaning it against the nearest box as he crossed his arms, eyeing Mateo curiously. “You’ve been standing there for a while,” Zhao Yu said, his voice low but not unkind.
Mateo shifted on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “Uh, yeah, I was just… you know, watching. You’re—uh—you’re really good out there.”
Zhao Yu raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking slightly. “That’s what you were doing? Just watching?”
Mateo’s face burned even hotter. “I mean, yeah. You’re, like, crazy fast. It’s impressive.”
Zhao Yu stepped closer, his gaze never leaving Mateo’s. There was something intense about the way he looked at him, something that made Mateo’s pulse quicken even more. “You can join me, you know. No need to stand outside watching like that.”
Mateo swallowed hard, his throat dry. He wasn’t sure what to say. The idea of training with Zhao Yu, of being in such close proximity to him, was both thrilling and terrifying. “I—uh, I don’t know if I’m at your level.”
Zhao Yu’s eyes softened just a little, his arms lowering as he took another step forward. “That’s not the point, Mateo. Training’s about getting better, not being perfect.”
Mateo opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat as Zhao Yu’s gaze locked onto his. There was something different in his eyes now, something softer, more open. For a moment, it felt like the distance between them wasn’t just physical but something more.
Mateo’s heart pounded in his chest, and for a split second, he wondered if Zhao Yu could hear it. He took a breath, trying to steady himself. “Maybe next time,” he said, his voice quieter than he intended.
Zhao Yu studied him for a moment longer before nodding, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Next time, then.”
Mateo nodded, a nervous chuckle escaping him. “Yeah. Next time.”
As he turned to leave, he could still feel Zhao Yu’s gaze on him, and it lingered long after he stepped back into the hallway. His heart was still racing, his mind a blur of thoughts and emotions. But one thing was clear — he wasn’t just watching anymore.