❝𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘, 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐍❞
୨⎯ ♡ ⎯୧
ೃ⁀➷ IN WHICH a girl loses all passion and love for a sport she once cherished and a certain...
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୨⎯ ♡ ⎯୧
The cold metal of the trophy seeps into your hands, your fingers trace the light feel of the metal. The cheers and applause of your teammates and thr crowd wash over you like a distant echo, barley registering in your mind. All around you, the air is charged with excitement, but within you, theres only emptiness.
The was probably the best you've played in a while, yet there was no enjoyment in your body. You feel stiff and achey and disappointed. Would volleyball forever be like this for you?
You had hoped that victory would bring with it a sense of fulfillment, a validation of your hard work and dedication. But now that it's here, it feels hollow, lacking the joy you had anticipated. You force a smile onto your lips as the cameras flash and your teammates gather around you, their faces radiant with joy.
Your standing next to the boy's team, since both teamed cleared out and won the entire match. Yet you don't really know who's standing next to you. All you know is that they're stiff and smell really nice. You think black hair falls down his face and he moves to stare at you but you are unable to meet his gaze.
People are congratulating you on your performance, but their words feel empty, meaningless against the backdrop of your own sadness. You try to drown out the noise of their cheers, but it's as if you're trapped in a bubble of silence, unable to connect with the world around you.
As the photo is snapped and the moment is immortalized, you can't help but feel a pang of longing. You wonder if it will ever return, if you'll ever be able to recapture the magic of those fleeting moments on the court. But for now, all you can do is hold onto the trophy in your hands, its cold metal a stark reminder of the emptiness that lingers within.
୨⎯ ♡ ⎯୧
When you clocked into work today at the cafe, you were greeted with cake balloons and a streamer blasted in your face. "Ahhhh! Congratulations on winning your Interhigh Nationals!!"
Mrs. Mori's voice carries through the large building, catching the attention of people who are inside; she doesn't care, so her husband apologizes to her. "A little quieter, honey?" Mr. Mori begs in his glory. You wonder when the last time you saw him was because he looks so different standing in front of you right now.
"No."
"Okay, anyways, congratulations on your win. I heard you crushed it out there. They even wrote about it on the cover of Tokyo Daily." Mr. Mori's eyes crinkle in the corner as he gives you his usual dashing smile. There are no more grays in his hair, and he has gotten tanner now. Always a fine gentleman.
"Really? On Tokyo Daily?" you ask, a bit surprised that you ended up there. It was the city's major magazine publisher and you had to have a big story to end up in it. It was also published and shared in several other cities. Mrs. Mori nods her head, "Take out the magazine! Take it out!"
