Framed by My Captain, Reborn on My Rival's Team novel · Chapter 2 of 24

Chapter 2: One Mouse, Two Hands

Ji Mingye won't give up the mid lane, but his hand covers Lu's on one mouse until he breaks the moment with a taunt, and at breakfast he names a stake aloud.

"Sit," Ji said.

It was ten past three in the morning.

He was putting a kettle on in the Nightjar kitchen.

Lu sat on a stool with his hands between his knees.

The room smelled of instant noodles and floor cleaner.

On the fridge hung a whiteboard with a drawn grey bird and the words DO NOT EAT SU RAN'S PUDDING.

"What did he do?" Ji said, with his back turned.

"Who?"

"Cheng Boyuan. You came out of his house at three in the morning with nothing in your hands."

Lu hadn't said the name.

"He wants me to sign tomorrow," Lu said. "I won't."

Ji put a cup in front of him and didn't ask why.

That was strange enough that Lu forgot to be rude.

"I need a seat," he said. "Here."

"We have one mid laner."

"You."

"Me." Ji leaned on the counter and crossed his arms.

"I've held that lane for two years, I'm captain, and I call every game."

"I know."

"You've been the best mid in the league since you were seventeen. Why would I give you my chair?"

"Because I'll win you things."

"You'll win yourself things. You always do." Ji said it flatly, like an item on a list. "Come upstairs."

The scrim room was on the second floor, six desks in two rows under dim blue strip lights.

Ji walked past the first row to the desk at the far end, and woke the monitor with a tap.

The screen came up on a paused game.

Lu stopped in the doorway.

It was his own game, from a qualifier two seasons back.

His champion was frozen mid-dash at the edge of the left bush, under a timer reading 02:11.

"Scouting," Ji said, and shut the window.

He pulled a second chair up beside his own, and Lu sat in it.

Their knees touched, and neither of them moved.

"Open a practice game," Ji said. "Mid, both sides. Don't show me anything. Just start."

Lu clicked in.

The first wave pushed.

Ji watched the screen with his chin on his fist.

"You'll back at two-ten with the wave shoved," he said, softly.

"You'll buy boots."

He tilted his head.

"Then you'll walk back to lane through the left bush, the long way, even when the short way is open."

Lu's hand stopped on the mouse.

At 2:10, he backed.

He bought boots.

He took the left bush.

"Two seasons," Ji said. "You've done it every game."

"Nobody tracks that."

"I do."

Lu turned his head.

Ji was close enough for Lu to see the mole at the corner of his left eye, and the pulse in his throat.

It moved twice, quickly, when he swallowed.

Cold tea, Lu decided.

"Try the short way," Ji said.

Lu tried.

His champion walked straight into a bush Ji's champion had not been standing in, and a spell took half his health bar away.

"You were never going to be there," Lu said.

"No. But you thought I would."

Ji's hand came across the desk and settled over Lu's on the mouse.

It was a big hand, dry and warm, and it covered all of Lu's knuckles at once.

"Again," Ji said, very quietly. "Slower."

Lu breathed.

The two of them moved the mouse together, a few millimeters at a time, and the champion on screen crept around the bush.

Ji's thumb lay along the side of Lu's palm.

Neither of them looked at the screen.

Lu had spent five seasons wanting to take that smooth, bored look and break it.

He turned his hand over under Ji's, so that their palms touched.

Ji's breath changed.

For one second, no more, his eyes dropped to Lu's mouth.

Then he lifted his hand away, and smiled with one corner of his mouth.

"You're shaking, Lantern," he said. "Cold?"

"No."

"Then it's the caffeine." Ji stood and straightened his T-shirt.

"Go to bed. There's a couch in the lounge. If you kick it, I'll know."

Lu didn't sleep.

At eight, the Nightjar kitchen was full of people eating.

Su Ran sat on the counter in a yellow hoodie with a cartoon pudding on it, shoveling congee, and talking with his mouth full.

"Ge! There's a stranger on our couch. He's got a Vanguard jacket. Is he a spy? He's pretty for a spy."

"He's the best mid laner in the league," said the top laner, not looking up.

"That's what I said. Pretty."

Coach Pei stirred his tea in the corner, with his reading glasses on their cord, and said nothing.

Ji came in last, in a clean shirt, holding a mug.

"Everyone. This is Lu Zhiyan," he said. "He wants the mid lane."

The whole room stopped chewing.

"I told him there's one chair," Ji went on. "So we'll settle it at noon. A best-of-five duel, mid lane, one against one."

"And the stakes?" Lu said.

"Stakes," Ji said, and looked straight at him over the rim of the mug, in front of the whole team.

"If I win, you sleep in my room tonight, and you do whatever I tell you."

Nobody breathed.

Coach Pei's spoon stopped.

"And if I win?" Lu said.

"Then I do whatever you tell me."

Lu felt the heat go up his neck and refused to let it reach his face.

He put his hands in his pockets and smirked.

"Deal."

Behind him, Su Ran dropped his bowl.

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