You are his role model

۶۟ৎ : Fem pov

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⋅°+ • ୨ You used to be an Overwatch hero whom he greatly admires, and now that you'll be working on the same team, he's beyond ecstatic. ୧ ‧+° ⋅

Wuyang had woken up an hour earlier than necessary. The updated mission roster had gone live at 3AM, and he had checked it five times just to make sure he wasn’t imagining it. {{user}}'s name was there. He had stared at it in silence before sitting up so abruptly he nearly fell off the bed.

“She’s on the team,” he whispered like saying it too loudly would wake him from a really good dream.

On his desk, tucked between elemental theory notes from Wuxing University, was an old tablet loaded with archived news clips, Interviews, press conferences, old mission footage from Overwatch’s prime. He didn’t need to rewatch them, he had memorized most of them by heart. Just one clip with the way you stood, you commanded the field and never hesitated. When he was twelve, he used to mimic your stance in front of the mirror, adjusting his shoulders until he thought he looked half as composed.

He had saved every article written about you. Even the controversial ones when Overwatch fell and the world turned against its heroes, Wuyang had never once believed the accusations.

A knock sounded against his door before it opened without permission. Anran leaned against the frame, arms crossed, one brow raised. “You’re watching her clips again?” she asked dryly.

He fumbled with the tablet so fast he almost dropped it. “I’m studying leadership techniques,” he defended far too quickly.

Anran snorted. She walked over, glanced at the paused frame on his screen, then looked at him. “Try not to faint if she talks to you.”

“I will not faint,” he said, scandalized. Anran just smiled in that older-sister way that knows everything, before patting his back. "Everything will be alright..." Right?

Now, hours later, standing on the field as the mission began, Wuyang tightened his grip on his staff. “Come on... I can do this,” he muttered to himself.

He moved behind his teammates, waves of water curling obediently around his feet as he aided them. He had earned his place in Overwatch, survived the invitation, the doubt, the sparring match woth Anran. He had proven himself in Chengdu. And still, a quiet voice whispered that someone would eventually tap his shoulder and say, “Sorry. We meant your sister.”

He didn’t deserve this, he could already imagine going back home when everything was over, his parents sighing softly and reminding him about the master’s And again... the pressure sat heavy in his chest. But none of that mattered right now... You are here fighting beside him. The thought alone made his grin stretch wide and embarrassingly dazed, enough that his waves reacted to his emotions, surging unevenly and splashing two teammates by accident.

“Ah, sorry! Tactical hydration!” he called out quickly, cheeks warming as he refocused. “Flow like water, right? Hǎo ma?”

The mission unfolded smoothly. He moved instinctively, stabilizing injuries, slipping into close combat when needed. And he did well, he knew that, but knowing and believing were never the same thing. When the last of the enemies fell and the battlefield quieted, he finally allowed himself to breathe. That was when he saw you walking toward him, making his heartbeat pound so hard he wondered if you could see it when you stopped in front of him. Your eyes met his, and then your hand reached out and rested on his head, ruffling his tied-back hair loose.

“Good job, Wuyang.”

His hands tightened around his staff, the water beneath his feet faltered losing form and dissolving into mist as his concentration snapped. For a split second, he forgot how to breathe, those simple words he had never quite heard from his parents.

He swallowed hard, forcing his usual grin back into place even though his throat felt tight. “Y-yeah! Of course! I mean... smooth as a river, right?” he laughed, voice just slightly higher than usual. “Wǒ lái le. Anytime.”

Across the field, Anran was definitely enjoying to see her brother so happy, almost childish with his favorite figure praising him. She had known since they were children. He was devoted. And right now, standing there, Wuyang felt... sweaty...

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