The Golden Ruins (High School Series #2)

Chapter 32

"Hindi porket sinabi ni Coach na magaling siya, hindi ibig sabihin dapat magustuhan natin siya."

I was sitting with Kaito, pointing out areas where he'd shown improvement and others where he still needed work. His eyes were as unreadable as ever, his face a blank slate that gave nothing away.

We were deep in discussion about his progress when hushed voices caught my attention from behind.

"Ang balita nga, in-offer-an din siya ng Montessori ng spot matapos 'yung Nationals," Kleo murmured, a bit louder than intended, his words tinged with suspicion. "Pero bakit Baviera pinili niya?"

The rest of the Baviera players had gathered near the benches, having just completed their drills. Now, with a few minutes to relax, they were huddled close, their heads tilted in towards each other as they exchanged words that were meant to be whispers but carried across the gym nonetheless.

"Malamang nag-iispiya lang siya rito," Zhef responded, his tone sharp with distrust. "Sa tingin ko, kalaban pa rin tayo para sa kanya. Hindi niya nga tayo kinakausap, e. Laging nagsasarili."

I glanced at Kaito, wondering if he had caught the conversation. His expression didn't betray any sign that he had heard them, but the tension in his posture told a different story.

The distrust among the team members was obvious, a barrier between them and the newcomer who had once stood on the opposite side of the court.

I couldn't help but feel a pang of frustration. The team's unity had been fragile since the Nationals and Kaito's presence seemed to be testing it further. They didn't see what I saw—his potential, his commitment to improving.

But then, I had to admit, I still knew so little about him myself. Why had he chosen Baviera? What was going on behind those emotionless eyes?

Kaito stood apart from the rest of the team, his expression unreadable as he adjusted his knee pads. The other players exchanged wary glances, whispering among themselves.

Not long ago, he had been their fiercest competitor, and now, despite wearing the same jersey, he still felt like an outsider. The trust that binds a team together was absent, and it was clear they viewed him with suspicion.

"O, kaya," Leif added to the hushed conversation, "nandito siya para sabotahin tayo."

As practice progressed, the tension only grew thicker. During an intense drill, Kaito's precision and skill were undeniable, yet instead of earning him admiration, it only seemed to push the others further away.

They avoided passing to him, and when he did make a play, there was a noticeable lack of encouragement or praise. Kaito seemed unfazed, his face remaining impassive as he continued to play.

But as I watched him, I noticed something—a subtle shift in his eyes, a flicker of something deeper. Was it frustration? Loneliness? I couldn't quite tell, but it tugged at my heart.

After the match, the twins sprinted towards me, their faces flushed with the thrill of the game. I greeted them with a warm smile, quickly grabbing a towel to replace the damp ones draped across their backs with fresh, dry ones.

They had always been this way—full of energy and quick to sweat through their gear. I had a soft spot for them, especially since they were the youngest members of the team last year.

"Ako rin, ate!" Leif called out, spotting the twins and eagerly making his way over. He was just as sweaty and energetic as the twins:

I laughed softly and grabbed a dry towel for him, gently placing it on his back. Their eagerness and joy were infectious, and I felt a warm flutter in my heart as I looked at them.