#wangyu

—

yu wenzhou loses a match.

his hand speed has always been his weakness, his achilles heel. this is a fact he, and the other pro players, know very well — coupled with the fact that warlocks were ranged classes and that casting skills required some time, it is no surprise that swoksaar falls under the relentless onslaught of the american team’s spellblade in the individual competition. however, knowing this doesn’t take the sting out of losing a match to someone with faster hands, especially since he can’t fix the problem.

it’s unbelievably frustrating.

that night, he stays up long after shaotian and the other night owls have retired to their own rooms, watching recordings of their next opponents’ previous matches in the strategy room. he won’t let himself become a burden to the team.

staying up all night after a loss isn’t strange to him. it has always been a habit of his, even back in blue rain. he’d look over the match videos and analyse them, slowly breaking down the small, unconscious habits of every player. if he couldn’t outspeed them, he’d find other ways to break through. sometimes, shaotian would sit with him, his chatter a welcome relief from the self-deprecating thoughts that would inadvertently plague him. a loss is a loss, after all.

—

“i thought i’d find you here,” a voice sighs from the doorway.

startled, he looks up, blinking away the dots from his vision — a result from staring at a bright screen for too long. wang jiexi doesn’t wait for a reply before walking over, wordlessly setting a cup of what yu wenzhou vaguely recognises as floral tea down in front of him.

“thank you, captain wang,” he nods graciously, “what are you doing up at,” a quick glance at the clock reveals that it is indeed an ungodly hour, “four in the morning, though?”

wang jiexi coughs, looking away awkwardly as he turns his attention to the precise notes strewn all over the table.

“i couldn’t sleep,” he says, “you should rest though. yesterday’s match…”

ah. “i appreciate your concern,” he smiles, “but i know my limits — and i think i’ve found something that we could use to break their formation. it would be a pity to stop now.” he turns back to the match videos.

he doesn’t expect the other man to settle down in the seat next to him. “then i’ll watch with you. two heads are better than one.” wenzhou shrugs, finding no fault in that logic, and turns back to the videos and his notes.

wang jiexi’s brows are furrowed as he stares at the screen. he’s obviously tired, but for some reason, refuses to leave — probably because of him. wenzhou stifles a laugh, there is something endearing about the former tiny herb captain’s concern for him, he admits privately.

they stay like that, silently reviewing match videos, before wenzhou finds himself nodding off. a few minutes wouldn’t hurt, his sleep-addled mind urges, and he finds himself agreeing as his eyes close.   

when the first few rays of sunlight peak through the blinds in the strategy room, yu wenzhou is sprawled across his notes, fast asleep, with a jacket draped over his sleeping form — a slightly larger jacket that smells like tea and flowers.