Archive of Our Own ^beta

Maybe it was the sheets. 

The hotel had looked pretty decent when they arrived, not like some of the ratholes he and Big Sun used to stay at back in Season 2 when sponsorship was non-existent. But you never know - maybe they use some different bedding here in Zurich and that’s why Zhang Jiale can’t sleep. 

A part of his brain that sounds like a rather smug Ye Xiu points out it’s funny he's only noticing how uncomfortable the sheets are now. That he didn’t notice them in any of the days of competition leading up to tonight's - he looks at the clock - correction, yesterday's semi final victory...

Fuck. Even in his own head the bastard is right. 

It’s not the sheets. 

Zhang Jiale resists the urge to groan. He rubs at his face, pushing back the loose strands of hair from his forehead and stares at the ceiling.

The ceiling offers nothing new.

With a sigh of irritation he grabs his pillow again, twisting and turning into a new position, closing his eyes in the faint hope that maybe it will convince the rest of him to follow into dreamland.

He takes a deep breath.

Right. He’s not here, he's in a peaceful garden somewhere. Just him and the trees. No concerns, no worries, just the breeze on his face, gently counting the blossoms as they fall. 

One. Two. Three. Four...

It's not working.

Zhang Jiale opens his eyes.

Figures. He’s not fooling anyone. Not even himself. 

He knows it doesn’t make sense. The final is still days away. Team China is in fine shape, their coordination and teamwork never better. There’s a plan. Four of the greatest tactical minds in Glory are constantly revising and refining it.  There is absolutely no reason he should be worrying. And yet…

Here he is.

There’s a cough from the bed on the other side of the room. With a sinking heart Zhang Jiale adds “managing to wake Zhang Xinjie in the middle of his sleep cycle” to the running list of reasons he might actually be cursed.  

He goes dead still, hoping if he doesn’t move his teammate will go back to his usual unshakeable rest and leave Zhang Jiale to his insomnia.

“Jiale.”

Damn it. Too late.

There’s a rustle as Zhang Xinjie blindly reaches out for the nightstand, followed by the soft click of the bedside lamp being switched on. 

“Jiale, I know you’re not asleep. What’s wrong?”

Zhang Jiale gives up, turning his head to face the other man. “It’s nothing, Xinjie. I just can’t sleep. Sorry for waking you.”

Zhang Xinjie frowns. Zhang Jiale can already see his thoughts moving, the crease between Xinjie’s eyebrows indicating he’s running through a thousand different scenarios in his head. Maybe one of them will be convincing enough that Jiale can convince him it’s not actually...

“Is this about the finals?”

Zhang Jiale winces, and immediately knows he’s given himself away.

Zhang Xinjie’s face turns sympathetic. “I understand. It will be a hard match. But we have a solid strategy, and-” 

“I know! I know that, ok?” Zhang Jiale interrupts, throwing his covers back in a fit of aggravation and swinging his legs to sit upright on the bed. “It’s not that I don’t believe in the plan, it’s just…You know my history. For all the jokes about my luck sometimes I wonder - what if I really am cursed?”

There’s a moment of silence before Zhang Xinjie stands up, pinches the bridge of his nose, and walks the few short steps over to Zhang Jiale’s bed, gesturing for him to shuffle over. He sits close, the warmth of his body solid and comforting despite the firmness of his expression.

“Jiale. I was there too. Tyranny may not have won this season or last, but any curses responsible for it are currently sleeping down the hall.”

Despite himself Zhang Jiale laughs. 

“Even if luck was involved,” Xinjie continues, “ then it has surely been reversed by having such strong opponents become teammates.”

“Not that I disagree in that respect but-”

“But nothing. Every person on this team was chosen because of their skill. You are undoubtedly the strongest Spitfire player in the GPA, and I am grateful to have you by my side. In your absence I can say with absolute certainty that we would have lost that last game. I would rather risk the possibility of bad luck than the certainty of losing one of our strongest and most reliable players.”

Zhang Jiale lets himself fall back against the wall if only to hide the flush on his cheeks. “Ok ok, I get it… Thanks.”

“No need, I’m only speaking the truth.” Zhang Xinjie offers, “We need you. It's why Captain Han turned down the offer to join. Someone needed to prepare for next season and of the three of us, he was the only one Team China could do without.” 

“Wait, what?”

Zhang Xinjie looks at his watch before leaning over to pick up the tablet left on the bedside table. “Here, you can ask Captain about it yourself.”

Before Zhang Jiale can say anything to stop him Zhang Xinjie has started the call and the screen fills with the scowling face of Han Wenqing.

“Xinjie. Congratulations on the win. Why are you awake?”

Tyranny’s Captain is abrupt as ever. It surprises Zhang Jiale how much he relaxes on hearing the familiar curt tones.

Zhang Xinjie of course goes straight to the point. “Jiale is concerned about his role in the finals, and needs to be reminded that he is literally irreplaceable.”

Zhang Jiale splutters. “That! That’s not what I said!!!”

On the other side of the world, Han Wenqing glares at the screen in a manner that anyone else would consider to be murderous. Zhang Jiale recognises it as being mildly chiding.

“Of course he is. Who else would I trust to represent Tyranny on the world stage?”

The absolute certainty of his voice punches through Jiale’s chest with all the force of a well aimed fist. Han Wenqing does not bother with niceties. If he says something, he believes it with all his heart. 

And he apparently believes in Zhang Jiale.

“Is that all?” he continues, heedless of Zhang Jiale’s moment of clarity. “There’s a boss battle I need to supervise - Ye Xiu’s monsters are on a rampage again and Song Qiying is a little too eager to take on their battle mage.

 “Yeah…” Jiale says, a little abashed. “Yeah, I think that’s all I needed. Thanks Captain. Happy hunting!”

“Hmph.” Han Wenqing smirks. “That’s the plan.”

The call disconnects, leaving Zhang Xinjie and Zhang Jiale alone once more.

For a while they just sit there, side by side. No more words are necessary. His friends believe in him. Maybe it’s time Zhang Jiale started doing the same... 

A sudden knock at the door startles them out of their reverie. 

With a shared glance Zhang Xinjie moves to put the tablet down as Zhang Jiale rises to get the door.

“Who is it?” he says, careful not to raise his voice above a soft murmur, already planning his apologies. He thought their conversation had been quiet enough to avoid disturbing the rooms next door, but apparently not. Damn. 

“Just me.” comes the voice of their Team Leader, who absolutely should not   have been woken up given his room is at the other end of the corridor. “Can I come in?”

Zhang Jiale presses his forehead against the door for a moment.

It seems the universe is doing its best to make sure he’s never going to live this night down.

He opens the door and steps back.

Ye Xiu stands there, hands in his pockets and a smirk on his lips. Sharp eyes take in the scene and his expression softens.

“So, a wallet-faced birdie told me I might find a few night owls here. Since I’m not the only one who isn’t going to sleep...” 

His hand moves in a flash, light glinting off the key to the training room where it dangles in front of Zhang Jiale’s face. 

“Want to join me for a game?”

Zhang Jiale just stares at him. Behind them Zhang Xinjie lets out a quiet huff of amusement.

“Senior Ye truly is dedicated. Training even at this hour.”

“Who said anything about training? There’s plenty of time for that in the schedule. You should know Xiao-Zhang, you wrote most of it!”

“Oh?” Zhang Xinjie arches an eyebrow, apparently unimpressed.

Zhang Jiale knows better. Xinjie is enjoying this. Tacticians. Always up for verbal sparring. He has never seen four people so visibly excited about the prospect of sitting in a room arguing with each other on a regular basis.

Which is why he needs to cut this short before Ye Xiu can expand on the apparent deficits of the aforementioned schedule and Xinjie counters with the litany of health crimes his senior commits on a daily basis.

“Yes yes, according to the schedule we should all be asleep, but since that’s not happening just tell us what you’re up to already!” Zhang Jiale says with a huff.

“Ah, you get so grumpy without your beauty sleep! Here.”

Ye Xiu extends his other hand, familiar cards fanned out so that the English lettering can clearly be seen. “I managed to acquire some accounts for the local server. What do you say? Want to have some fun?”

The edges of Zhang Jiale’s mouth curl up in the beginnings of a smile. “You mean do I want to go help you unleash chaos on those poor unsuspecting guilds?”

Ye Xiu shrugs, affecting an air of innocence. “It’s their own fault if they’re not prepared for a bit of friendly competition. Can you really say you don’t want to see how they compare to the ones back home?”

Zhang Jiale doesn’t respond, but reaches out to snag one of the proffered cards. There is a tiny cherry blossom sticker on one corner. He has no doubt that when loaded it will contain an appropriately named Spitfire.

Ye Xiu slings one arm around his shoulders, the touch firm for all its carefully casual nature. Zhang Jiale lets himself relax into it and gets a gently reassuring squeeze in response. For all his shamelessness, Ye Xiu does care for his friends.

The moment passes and Ye Xiu detaches himself, ruffling Zhang Jiale’s hair before pushing him in the direction of the jacket he discarded last night.  

“Great! What about you Xiao-Zhang? I’ve got a spare cleric if you want.” Ye Xiu wheedles, waving another card towards their team’s healer.

Rather than give an immediate dismissal, Zhang Xinjie hums thoughtfully. “It is highly unlikely that I would be able to achieve further REM sleep at this point.”

It’s a lie. And they all know it. 

Zhang Jiale feels his heart beat a little faster and holds back the tears beginning to form at the corners of his eyes.

Goddamn it. It’s hard to remain unmoved in the face of such supportive teammates. 

“Come on then. Let's go - wild bosses wait on no one.”

Much, much later, Zhang Jiale wakes to an influx of bright light streaming through the training room window. 

His back aches from where it presses against a remarkably uncomfortable armrest, he can’t feel his legs and there is a warm weight pressing against his right hand side. Blearily he opens his eyes, trying to process the situation…

Oh. Right. At some point they'd collapsed together on the room’s only sofa, giddy with victory and the knowledge that their night of fun would almost certainly become a server legend. Zhang Xinjie had fallen asleep against his shoulder, Ye Xiu sprawled across both their laps.

He closes his eyes.

One of the others will eventually come find them. There’s work to be done after all. There’s a final to be won. But for now, Zhang Jiale has nothing to worry about. 

He sleeps.