VAUGHN'S POV:
I had a peculiar sense of respect and jealousy for those who could engage in physical activities, such as sports. Because unfortunately, I have a heart problem that prevents me from performing repetitive work, wherein most cardiologists who examined me were unable to determine what my condition was. I could even still remember the time I passed out and was admitted to the hospital after fainting the previous time I overexerted myself. However, if you were to inquire about my physical well-being, I would say that I'm in a perfect health. Since I couldn't see or feel anything wrong with my body or myself, I thought that was the case. But I had no choice but to obey the doctor's advice and please my parents.
It's such a waste, honestly. Because a lot of people, specially in school, they often praised me for having long legs. They also told me to join track-and-field club and on a football team, but I just can't. That's why sometimes I feel hopeless, wondering what could've been to me. But I'm still thankful because I had a supportive, empathetic, and dependable friends like Pasha and Rhys. They're always there for me — although they always arguing, but I can handle them.
Today, our university's annual sports event was in full swing. Pasha and me were at the campus stadium, cheering on Rhys as he took to the court for his final game in men's volleyball league. We were seated in the second tier, giving us a perfect view of the entire match.
Pasha shrieked, "GO, CASPIAN! BREAK THEM UP MORE!" Her voice laced with hatred, echoing inside the stadium.
Well… I couldn't blame her indignation at the opposing team, as their spikes seemed to be relentlessly targeting Rhys. That's why I can't help but to concur with her, though it's just a game and it might be just a coincidence.
I inhaled deeply, holding the air in my lungs. When I deemed myself ready, a thunderous scream scaped my mouth.
"GO RHYS! BASH THEM INTO THE GROUND!" I bellowed, my eyes blazing with fervour. "DON'T EVER LET THEM TO GET A SCORE!"
Pasha joined in. "YEAAH!" she screamed, so I also let out a deafening scream. "YEAAH!"
We continued our intermittent cheers, trading taunts with the opposing team's supporters until our voices grew hoarse.
"VIPERS ARE THE ONLY STRONG!"
"VIKING LOSERS!"
"GO, VIPERS! KICK THEIR ASS!"
Our booming voice rang out, making us stand out amidst the cheering crowd. It was only then that I realized, my loud voice had drawn attention to myself. So I felt a twinged of self-consciousness, about being a man who cheered so enthusiastically.
My eyes widened in shock and began panicking, as we got the attention of the crowd— yeah, even the players of both teams.
I scanned the stadium, and immediately I noticed that some of the nearby audience were looking at me. Their faces tinged with confusion, as if they were saying; "What that guy is doing?"
"AHH!" I groaned, losing my senses in embarrassment.
"HEY, IDIOTS! FOCUSED ON THE GAME!" Pasha hollered, snapped me back in my senses. "DON'T JUST STARE AT IT!"
I quickly look over the court, spotting Rhys — he seemed to be waiting for my attention. As I overtook him, he smiled at me and throw a flying kiss in my direction, making me furrow my brow in frustration.
What the hell he's doing?!
But realization hit me like a ton of bricks. Huh? Huh?! No! I was thinking wrong — that's definitely not for me!
A sudden burst of laughter escaped my lips, spilling into uncontrollable giggles. "Hahahahaha!"
"Yuck! Eew! So disgusting!" Pasha cried out of nowhere, her nose scrunching in disgust, clear proof that what Rhys did wasn't just meant for me.
Before Rhys returned to the game, he repeated his gesture once again. But this time, our eyes met, so I swiftly veered my gaze and whispered in my mind; You'll be dead to me later, Rhys!
"That fucking jerk!" Pasha growled, gripping the handrail in frustration.
"Is he referring to you, Vaughn?!" she asked, her tone firm as she clenched her fist. "You're going to get it from me later, you dumbass!"
I don't know what to do anymore, so I just let out a sigh. You're really dead later, Rhys! I'll just pray that your soul crosses safely to the spirit realm.
Afterwards I sat down, feeling peeved at Rhys. But Pasha seemed to noticed it. "What happen to you, Vaughn?" she asked, furrowing her brow in concern. "Are you affected by what that idiot did?"
You don't have to say it out loud, Pash!
I shook my head and force a smile before answering. "N-no, I'm not! I'm just gonna get some water," I lied. My voice came out raspy, afraid she would find out I was lying.
To convince her further, I grabbed the bottle of water and took a sip, pretending to quench my thirst. I think it actually worked — as her face lit up. "Okay... just let me know if you need anything, hmm?"
I nodded and replied, "Yeah."
I gasped, feeling a mix of relief and lingering frustration. Then I thought to myself that I needed some time to think. Why were we doing this? Although, I knew that nothing would change, no matter how much we cheered for him. The outcome of the game was inevitable; it's either they'd win or lose.
Besides, he really should've just stopped playing volleyball, because it was just a distraction for his studies. Moreover, as a Criminology major, he needed to focus more on academics. But of course, he wasn't me — he wasn't like me, a Special Class Student. I had more free time than he did, because my schedule isn't hectic as his.
After a while, I got distracted on my seat when people suddenly screamed, and I was thrown out of my seat. "Idiots! What are they doing?!" Pasha cried out, her tone tinged with disappointment.
So, I quickly stood up and asked, "What happen, Pash?" My voice was laced with confusion, as I spotted someone lying on the court's floor.
Did he got injured?
Pasha glanced at me before answering. "Caspian's teammate tried to block the quick attack from the opposing team's middle blocker."
"He couldn't withstand the impact — maybe his right hand got dislocated. Therefore… he can't get back into the game," she explained, her tone dripping with exasperation.
My eyes widened and my jaw dropped after hearing what she said. Just how strong could that impact have been?! I couldn't believe it – I had only lost focus on the game for a moment, and yet… so much had already happened at once.
I swallowed hard before asking. "But… he can be replaced by the substitutes, right?" My voice was mixed with nervousness, as if speaking it aloud might make my fears real.
Pasha nodded. "Yeah…," she replied, her words barely audible.
"But I don't know if it's allowed to substitute two players at once," she added, making me furrow my brow, puzzled by what she said.
So I asked, "What do you mean?" My voice almost a whisper.
She immediately replied, "I mean… Caspian hasn't asked for a substitution yet. It's actually a miracle that he can still stand on his feet."
My body froze — stunned by what I had just found out.
"What?!"
"Yeah, he's seen this coming, and it seems his calculation was flawless."
I'm speechless— the situation are just getting worse and worse.
I scanned the players on court, spotting Rhys to find out his condition. I let out a sigh of relief, when my eyes found him sitting on the bench.
Glad, he just looks okay!
I hadn't noticed that Rhys hadn't taking a break yet – which explained his unusual behavior during the game. So that meant it's wasn't just a coincident that the ball kept coming toward him, and it definitely wasn't intentional, either.
When I was able to think and calm myself down, I asked Pasha. "So… what's going to happen now?"
Pasha's eyes sparkled as she smirked before answering. "They'll probably continue the game with just five players."
"Huh? Is that even allowed?" I asked, confused by what she said.
Pasha shook her head slightly, swirled around and faces me. "Actually, no," she replied. "Vipers can request an emergency substitution, but I believe they won't do that."
"I can't understand," I murmured.
"To make it simple – this is a great chance for them to finish the game," She said, her face still etched with excitement. "They've got the ball on their side– thanks to their opposite hitter's successful block. Though… I do feel bad about what had happened to him."
I shook my head, disagreeing on what she said.
"How can they win this? It will be a five against six – they're obviously outnumbered!" I exclaimed, but Pasha just chuckled.
She glanced at me, teasing with a playful smile. "You're underestimating Vipers, Vaughn," she said and smirked.
"I'm not underestimating them! It's just obvious they can't win!" I retorted, looking away on her as frustration and disappointment churned inside me.
"Don't get frustrated, I understand you!"
"Actually, you're somewhat right," she admitted, though maybe she only said that to ease my mind.
Tch!
"I will explain it to you properly."
"Caspian's team is all about offense, and they're known for it. But the Vikings have focused on defense to counter their tactics – and we also know them for being a flexible team."
"These two teams are natural enemies, each with strengths that play to the other's weaknesses," Pasha elaborated. But that wouldn't change the fact that Vipers might lost the game… if they didn't make an emergency substitution.
I glanced at Pasha, raising my brow in challenge. "Okay… let's pretend they're allowed to play even though they're short a player – do you thing they still have a chance to win the game?" I asked.
"Caspian team's setter is a big threat for the opposing team, proven on the first set. If they hadn't adopted defensive tactics, the Vipers might have already won the game."
"However, the decision still rests with their coach, and I'm sure Jim wouldn't agree with that. He'll prefer to lose, rather than taking risk."
I couldn't say anything more about Pasha's explanation; she's like a coach herself in her ability to analyze the game. And I hate to admit it, but she might actually be right about everything she said, knowing Rhys. They have the same brain cells, especially when it comes to volleyball. Since Pasha was a former volleyball athlete, she truly knows everything about it. Apparently, she has stopped playing and is now only coaches juniors players.
"Thank you for waiting patiently, Aurorians. The league association reviewed the rules, and the panelists permitted the Vipers to continue the game with their remaining five active players. No further emergency substitutions will be allowed. Meanwhile, the injured Vipers player is recovering well, so there's no cause for concern. The game will resume shortly, thank you."
My brow furrowed in disbelief as I listened to the host's announcement. I shook my head and chuckled, a sound that held more frustration than amusement. The panelist's decision was utterly ridiculous.
I let out a dismissive, "Tch!"
"I can't believe this!" I muttered, more to myself than anyone else.
"This is so crazy!"
Pasha swiftly grasped my arms, pulling my gaze at her. A smile was etched on her face, as if telling me to calm down. "Don't worry, Vaughn," she murmured, her voice a soft balm. "They're going to win this fight!" Her words, field with unwavering confidence, echoed in my mind as I gaze out at the field.
This was it—the final set, the score was tied at 24–24, with both teams having one win in each set. Which means, whoever the winner of this set would be crowned champion.
Just a few moments more and the game would begin. The ball was poised in the Vipers' setter's hand, ready to be served. The Viking were positioned, bracing themselves for the impending battle. The libero, defense specialist, and the outside hitter of their team were in the back row of their court, a full defense positioning to receive the ball. While the setter, middle blocker, and the opposite hitter were in the front row for any possible counter attack.
On the other hand, the Vipers were positioned in a balanced defense and offence. This a new strategy for them, since they usually focus on offense. The opposite hitter and the second middle blocker were positioned in the front row, while Rhys and the libero were positioned in the back row.
And the setter who stood poised, his calmed demeanor a mask of focused intensity. His deep-breathing was the only visible sign of the pressure he carried—the weight of the game's outcome rested squarely on his shoulder. Supposedly, the setter's role was just as crucial as the spiker, if not more so. One miscalculation, one misstep, and the game would slip through their fingers like sand.
As the setter took his time, the air thickened with anticipation. The crowd held its collective breath, sensing the gravity of the moment.
As the setter finally deemed himself ready, he sprinted forward. His feet pounding the court in a swift, calculated rhyme. Then he launched the ball in the air— his body coiling in a precise position before unleashing a devastating spike.
WHACK!
The ball exploded off his hand, spewing forth with an ultrasonic-like speed that left the Vikings reeling.
Pasha's reaction was instantaneous disdainful, "Tch!"
I swiftly glanced at her. My brow furrowed in confusion as my vision reached her clenching teeth, her eyes flashing with a mix of frustration and disappointment. I wanted to ask her, but I just chose to focused on the game.
The ball reached the Vikings precisely, breaking through their positioning. The libero was able to received the ball, but its trajectory changed when it landed on his arms because of its intensity.
The ball fleeched towards the middle blocker, but because of its astonishing speed, he has to position himself into a bump pass to slowdown the momentum of the ball. This time, they have to make a direct spike, or else Vipers will claim the set.
Surprisingly, the middle blocker managed to retrieved the trajectory of the ball, passing it to their outside hitter who's the only available spiker.
Vipers setter delivered a crucial serve that proved to be a game changer. Thanks to him, they managed to force the Vikings ace player out of the position, removing a major thorn from their side.
A blur of motion, the outside hitter's feet pounded the court, each footfall a thunderous punctuation mark in his desperate sprint. The ball arced through the air, a tempting target, and he launched himself upward, every muscles screaming in his body's desperate effort to reach it. Time seemed to slow as he hung suspended, gravity's relentless pull a constant threat. With a guttural cry, he channeled every once of remaining strength into his arm, his hand connecting with the ball just before the inevitable fall.
WHACK!
The ball hurtled towards the left side of the Vipers' court, wherein the Libero is strategically positioned. He expertly maneuvered into bump pass, allowing the ball to make contact with his forearm.
He received the ball successfully, and then the setter sprinted towards the ball. Positioning himself to execute an overhead pass, setting up a quick attack. While the ball is soaring, Rhys and the second middle blocker sprinted, surprising the Vikings.
Many were confused by what was happening, Even I am confused too.
My heart pounded. "Who's going to take the ball?" I whispered.
Pasha said, "Showy as always." Her voice laced with dissatisfaction.
My eyes widened in surprised as an idea struck me. "Could it be....?"
Just as I thought it, the second middle blocker jumped, faking a hard hit and bluffing the opposing team's front row; it was just a dump, leaving Rhys free to spike.
Rhys lowered his body, twisting his feet in a blur of motion. His feet pounding the court with a resounding thud, and the air was electric with anticipation as he coiled his muscle, ready to unleash a devastating counterattack.
As the ball drew closer towards Rhys, an electromagnetic aura surrounded him, crackling with anticipation. He spread his arms and jumped, synchronizing the speed of the ball's trajectory with precision. His eyes blazed with determination, and his face set in a fierce grimace. He then gathered all of his strength, channeling it from his core to his right hand. The air seems to vibrate with tension.
WHACK!
The ball exploded off Rhys' hand, soaring through the air like a comet, leaving a trail of chaos in its wake. The crowd erupted into cheers, their voice echoing off the rafters.
The Vikings were still in scrambling, their blockers reeling from the dump spike. Rhys' strike was a blazing inferno, bustling with unstoppable force towards the open middle of their court. The ball hurdled downwards, its trajectory unwavering, and hit the ground with a rumbling impact that resonated through the air. The crowd cheers thundered through the stadium, as if the very foundation of the rafters were shaking.
And Pasha began to gambol in rejoice, her eyes aglow with unbridled excitement, screaming in jubilant abandon. "YES! YES! YES! LET'S GO!" Her voice echoed off the rafters, mingling with the chant of the Vipers' fans.
"YOU'RE AWESOME, VIPERS!"
GET OUT OF THERE ALREADY, VIKINGS! YOU LOSERS!" she screamed, her words dripping with pride and triumph.
Confetti rained down on the court, swirling around the celebrating players like colorful tornadoes. The stunned Vikings couldn't believe the game was over. Others slumped to the floor, utterly defeated.
My earlier words return to hunt me. I'd wrongly assumed they and Rhys shared the same burning desire to win. Now, I felt only pity and regret.