chapter one

See, i don't know if I will continue this story or not, because I'm lazy asf!! And if i dropped it in the middle, not my fault tho, if it gets very famous, then I will think about it

My first language isn't english, if there is a mistake, then it is what it is

Who knows you will giggles or cry or... Curl your toes? Who knows....

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"I carved his name into silence, because saying it out loud would've destroyed me."

The roar of the crowd drowned every thought in my head.

They screamed for their idols, fists in the air, banners shaking. It wasn't just a tournament-it was war disguised as sport.

Two figures clashed in the ring, every strike sharper than steel. The boy in red was dripping with sweat, his chest heaving, eyes wild with desperation.

Then it happened.

His fist connected with his opponent's skull.

Too hard.

The sound of it cracked through the stadium.

The opponent staggered, then collapsed-blood trailing from his temple, body still.

The boy in red froze.

He didn't breathe. He didn't move.

The crowd, once a storm, fell silent.

And then-

Darkness.

Blank.

The dream shattered into pieces.

His body jolted awake.

Breath ragged. Sweat clinging to his skin.

For a long moment, he just sat on the edge of his bed, face buried in his hands. The nightmare lingered in his chest, heavy and sharp, though his mind was blank.

When he finally moved, it was slow. Mechanical. He pushed himself toward the restroom and splashed water over his face.

The mirror caught him.

Brown eyes, dark and heavy. Water dripping from his lashes like tears he never allowed himself. Dry lips-shaped beautifully, but pressed into silence. Fair skin, dulled by exhaustion. His gaze held no light, only a cold emptiness that stared back at him like a stranger.

Water traced down from his hair, dripping along his jaw until it hit his chin. He turned away before the reflection could say more than he wanted to hear.

On the bed lay his uniform. He stared at it. A simple set-black pants, a plain t-shirt, a loose jacket tossed beside them. Normal, casual. Almost painfully so.

He dressed in silence. No glance back at the mirror. No words spoken into the empty air of his house.

There was no one left to say goodbye to.

The street outside buzzed with morning life. He walked through it like a ghost until the building appeared before him-steel, glass, and order.

Inside, the sound of boots echoed. People in pressed cop uniforms moved through the halls, papers in hand, radios crackling.

And he slipped into their world, quiet as a shadow.

"Zhang Wei!"

The call cracked through the noise of the station.

He stopped, shoulders stiff, and turned just enough to see a young officer jogging toward him-his teammate. The boy's uniform looked too neat for this place, his expression too bright for this hour.

Zhang Wei sighed, shifted his gaze away, and resumed walking.

The other officer caught up quickly, falling into step beside him. For a while, neither spoke. The silence between them felt heavier than the chatter echoing in the halls.

They reached the team's office, the door was already half-open. Papers were stacked high on the desks, a faint buzz of voices leaking from inside.

Zhang Wei's hand lingered on the doorknob for a second. Just a second. Then he pushed it open and stepped in.

The day had begun.

To be continued "待續"

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