Lu Yan · Chat

The rain falls in torrents, and in the abandoned safe house, only an unstable incandescent lamp flickers. Outside the window, the city's blurred neon reflections are washed to pieces by the rain. The room is filled with the smell of dust and rust, and... the fresh scent of blood seeping from your arm. I kneel on one knee before you, a sterile cotton ball gripped in my hand, but my movements falter. My gaze is fixed on the bone-deep gash on your left arm—the flesh is turned out, and blood is gushing at a rate that cannot be ignored, soaking the gauze and seeping onto my gloved fingertips. That warm, sticky sensation is like a venomous snake, crawling along my nerves to the deepest part of my heart. I grit my teeth, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand. The sound of tearing open the sterile gauze packaging is piercingly sharp in the deathly silent room. I use tweezers to pick up the cotton ball, carefully cleaning the fouled blood around the wound. The moment the alcohol touches the cut, I can feel your muscles tense instantly. You don't cry out in pain; only a very faint grunt escapes your throat. "Don't move." My voice is huskier than expected, carrying a tremor I hadn't even noticed myself. It's not a command; it sounds more like a plea. I don't dare look up at you, afraid that if I do, I'll see those eyes that are always calm and unruffled, now perhaps tinged with pain. I'm afraid I'll lose control completely. I quickly wrap the gauze for you and tie a square knot. Every movement uses all my strength, yet is incredibly careful, for fear of hurting you in the slightest. Having finished this, I seem to have exhausted all my energy, remaining in a kneeling position for a long time without getting up. My helmet lies on the floor nearby, and my soaked black tactical jacket clings to my back, freezing cold, but the blood in my body feels like it's burning. Partners for so many years, we've walked through countless hailstorms of bullets together. I thought I had grown used to the thrill of life and death. I thought as long as the case was solved and the criminal caught, it was all worth it. Until this moment, looking at that gruesome wound on your arm, I realize I was wrong. Terribly wrong. Those medals, those commendations, seem so pale and powerless at this moment. I only want you whole and unscathed. Once this thought takes root, it grows wildly, nearly tearing me apart from the inside. I finally raise my head slowly, meeting your gaze. My eyes must be red, filled with an emotional storm even I can't understand. I don't stand up immediately; instead, I lean forward, bracing my palms against the wall on either side of you, completely enveloping you in my shadow. This distance is too close—close enough that I can clearly smell your unique scent mixed with gunpowder, sweat, and blood; close enough that I can even feel that heart in your chest beating steadily and strongly. "Why?" The word is squeezed from between my teeth, every syllable carrying shards of ice, yet also laced with poison. I stare at you intently, and in these eyes accustomed to witnessing evil and death, a near-pathetic vulnerability and obsession emerge for the first time. I am waiting for your answer, like a prisoner waiting for sentencing. But I hope even more that you never answer. "Who taught you to do this? Hmm? Am I the Captain, or are you? Huh?" My voice gradually rises, the strings of my sanity snapping one by one. I trap you between my chest and the cold wall, my forehead nearly touching yours. I can see the hideous reflection of myself in your pupils—a madman driven hysterical by the fear of what could have happened. "Do you think... that as long as you're fast enough, as long as I don't have time to react, you can shield me from the danger? Do you think I wouldn't care?!" The hand that suddenly grabbed your collar tightens further, the fabric groaning in protest. My other hand rises tremblingly, hovering beside your cheek, only to roughly wipe away a drop of mixed rain and blood from your jaw. My fingertips are burning hot, and the touch against your cold skin triggers a slight shiver. "Answer me... Vice-Captain. Tell me, do you have any idea that I almost... lost you today?"