Chapter Text
"We're doomed."
Kun rolls his eyes. He's used to Chenle's flare for dramatics by now, after years of playing on the same Quidditch team as him and later on becoming his captain. The younger Chaser likes making a statement, whether it is through fashion, charms, plays, or big words. They've become quite the dynamic duo, often relying on each other's positioning and skills to score. The on field chemistry translates to a deep friendship off field, and a part of Kun always feels weird when it comes to arguing with him.
"We're not doomed, Chenle. We're simply at a disadvantage. We've won against worse odds." Kun reminds him.
It's true, they've won against teams that were much more experienced and better financed than them. Despite being the underdogs of the Chinese National cup for years, they've never placed below tenth at the end of the season.
"You've spent hundreds of sessions telling us that team formations and strats are based around the way the Seeker plays and now that we have no idea who we're up against you're acting like it's not a big deal!" Chenle exclaims angrily.
Kun is losing his patience, but he knows that matching Chenle's temper will do them no good. He's their Captain for a reason, and it's not the fact that he's the oldest in the room. That said, they were supposed to start practicing fifteen minutes ago, and they can't afford any delays on a rented pitch. Their budget is as tight as ever, despite their not so disastrous results in the cup. Nobody believes in a team of self-managed twenty-something year olds.
"Stressing over it will do us no good. Should we just give up, Chenle?" Kun asks teasingly. He's always open to hear comments and feedback on his leadership, as long as it comes with suggestions on how to improve. If Chenle just feels like complaining, he'll have to take it somewhere else. The match is in four weeks and they just got the news that the team they're up against has a new Seeker, someone they know nothing about. It could be someone who plays hard and fast, aiming to catch the Snitch as soon as possible so that the rest of the players will have no impact on the final result. Or it could be someone who plays like their very own Renjun, someone calculating and deliberate, who enjoys faints and tricks to tire the opponent out.
"That's not what I'm saying. It's not fair, that's all," Chenle says with a sigh. He sounds frustrated and defeated, which is not an attitude Kun finds fit for a productive training session. That said, he'd rather have a grumpy Chenle than no Chenle at all. It doesn't feel the same when one of them is missing.
"Can we go back to practice, then?" he asks.
“No. I'm leaving."
Fuck it , Kun thinks as Chenle storms off the silent locker room and the slams the door shut. So much for a full team practice . He takes a look at the other players in the room, finding worry and discomfort reflected on all of their faces.
“If anyone else feels the same way, you're free to follow him out. I won't train with a team that has already given up,” he tells them.
He trusts them not to leave him when they're at their lowest, despite how bad the situation might be looking right now. He's frank and honest with them because he believes that's the best way to talk to them as their Captain. He's not one for big motivational speeches, letting his actions speak for him. When he was on the school team, his Captain used to make them all sit through hour-long cringeworthy pep talks that would leave them all dazed and confused, so he has learned not to make the same mistake. He gets to the point and makes sure his message is loud and clear, and leaves the emotional comfort part to the better equipped members of the team, the fearsome Beaters Winwin and Xiaojun.
“ We are not going anywhere. You know how he is, he'll be back before we're done for the day,” Hendery, the Keeper, says as he pats his shoulder with one gloved hand. Everyone else nods, and just like that they grab their brooms and march off into the pitch.
Practice goes as well as it can go when they're one member short. Yangyang is a great Chaser on his own, but Kun has started relying so hard on Chenle for his plays that he feels like one of his limbs is missing. Renjun is flying way above them, lazily drawing circles while he keeps away from the action. Kun doesn't doubt he has already got his eye on the Snitch and he's ready to dive for it the instant he starts feeling like he's about to be scolded. He's almost tempted to call him down and tell him to sub in for Chenle, but that would mean putting up with a whole other round of mumbled complaints and Kun is definitely not in the mood for it today.
Hendery manages some impressive saves, Xiaojun almost hits him off his broom with a mean Bludger, Yangyang gets a big Quaffle shaped bruise on his side, and Winwin breaks his bat against one of the goal posts. Renjun catches the Snitch three times, showing off his brand new broom with flourish and stunts whenever he spots the catching their breath between rounds.
They're all tired, and the tension from Chenle's outburst has lingered among them. Kun is about to call it a day when they're loudly interrupted by a familiar voice screaming at them from the ground.
“Guys! Kun ge ! I have a name!”
Hendery was right about Chenle coming back before the end of practice. He's not wearing his Quidditch robes, though, and he looks like he has just Apparated from someplace else. It's only been a few months since he's finally passed the test, and Apparition still leaves him a bit pale and shaky, so it's easy to tell.
“I swear he has to be putting people under Imperio , how does he always know everything-” Xiaojun murmurs as he flies down next to him.
“Who is it?” Yangyang asks, voicing the question on everyone's minds.
Chenle takes his time to answer, waiting for all of them to land and put down their brooms before he speaks again. Kun knows him well enough to understand exactly why he's doing this: Chenle loves having everyone's attention on him, he's filled with joy at the thought of knowing something nobody else knows. But he's not one to snoop around for secrets, choosing instead to let people come to him to confess and reveal. If he's Apparated somewhere else to get information, it means that not knowing was truly troubling him. Kun shouldn't have been so hard on him. Anxiety has already gotten the best of some of them in the past, and as Captain he should be able to spot its symptoms better. Chenle clears his throat and demands a drum roll from them, and Kun can't help but sigh as half the team executes enthusiastically.
“I don't know,” Chenle declares.
Everyone groans, but they're interrupted before they can start with more thought-out insults.
“I mean, I have a name but it's nobody I've ever heard of. Doesn't show up in any historical record for other teams either,” Chenle clarifies.
How interesting , Kun thinks to himself. It could be bad, or it could be very good.
“We're going up against a rookie ?” Xiaojun screams gleefully.
“Kun ge was right not to worry, we've got this in the bag,” Winwin adds with a smile.
“Chenle, the name,” Kun reminds him, trying to remain focused.
Someone who has never played in the Cup will definitely come with some flaws they can exploit. No matter how good they are, they lack on field experience. A name won't be enough to pinpoint a playstyle, but the fact that they're a newbie definitely comes with some advantages teìhey can build around. Their practice sessions will have a sense of direction again. Kun is hopeful.
“Oh, right. It's someone named Ten Lee.”
It's bad.
A flash of bright teal hair. A borrowed broom, if not stolen. Laughter when it's way past curfew. Kun's responsibilities to his role choking him as he pretends not to see, as he chooses not to report him. The frustration of the first few nights turning into resignation, the doubt into admiration. Someone who was born to fly but whose wings had been snapped off.
Three years of secret meetings, three years of forbidden flying lessons, three years of a friendship that wasn't a friendship. Ten Lee was someone Kun only knew at night, on the Quidditch pitch, when the rest of the students were asleep and the sky was dark. His hair was vibrant and magnetic even then, under the moonlight or the clouds. Three years of anger, first towards him and his disdain of all rules, and then anger for whoever had made him like that, whoever had forced him to only fly in the shadows.
Ten Lee was born to fly, and Qian Kun had taught him how to fly. At night, in secret.
“We're doomed," Kun says, dead serious as all eyes turn to him.