𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑷𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒆𝒌𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝑮𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒎 ❜ㅤ ⠀𓏏𓏏⠀⠀

⸝⸝ ★ 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑬𝑬

A/N — Merry Christmas! I tried to post this and the Christmas special, but I couldn't finish both in the right amount of time. The Christmas special will probably be delayed until I finish it, but it'll be short and sweet! Again, I'm so sorry, I was going to post both today, but that's your sign to stay on track. Also, sorry about my little break, I was focusing on school, but now that I'm back please enjoy this!

WARNINGS — Mention of deportation, implied death, emotional struggle, depression, high pressure situations. — IF ANY of these themes trigger you, please take care of yourself and feel free to skip sections or reach out for support. Your well-being is important.

⁺₊ ✦ ꒰ა໒꒱ ✦ ₊⁺

"I'm scared." Sofía Marquez's voice carried through the light breeze at the park as she lunged to catch the ball. She and Sergio were on a nearby field, not far from home. The sun cast long shadows across the field, and a light breeze carried the scent of freshly cut grass. Sofía's sneakers dug into the earth every time she lunged for the ball. Sofía was practicing for her season opener as both the outside hitter and captain of the Gotham Comets—a local, tight-knit volleyball team.

Even for a local league, the Comets were one of the best—known for their skill and tight teamwork. The team excelled in quick thinking and teamwork. Honestly, the Comets might have been the reason Sofía gained such a strong reputation—besides her brother, Sergio, who was a rising star in boxing.

"You're scared? Come on, Sofía, you're one of the best I've seen," Sergio said, moving into position and fixing his eyes on the ball. Sofía frowned at his words, her eyes scanning the net. Before she backed up, setting her stance, which had been wide and focused. Sofía's eyes trailed back to the ball, locking onto the ball as she gathered herself. With a swift, practiced motion, the ball was tossed into the air. Sofía didn't hesitate before she surged forward, leaping to meet an explosive hit. Her arm swung with controlled power, but her angle was slightly off. The ball hit the top of the net, bouncing back to her side.

"Yeah, well, I don't feel like one right now," Sofía says with a frustrated groan, backing up with a wince, her gaze fixed on the ball. Her hands balled into fists as frustration bubbled inside her. She hated the thought of disappointing anyone—especially Sergio. She knew she wouldn't be perfect, but every time she couldn't get a hit perfect, it was a letdown. For some reason, she felt as if she needed to be perfect. So she wouldn't let anybody down. She thought this wasn't as hard as kicking around some villains, but why did it have to be so difficult at the same time? "I can't even hit the ball right." The girl's irritation is evident; Sergio sighed at this. The breath exhaled from his mouth in disappointment as he stepped forward towards the net; the older brother gazed over his sister with a remorse-filled expression.

"Bichito, I wasn't great at boxing when I started. You're doing fine." Sergio comforted, Sofía just looked away, her foot twirling against the field. Sergio places his hand on the net.

"Yeah. Well, I didn't just start volleyball, did I? Let's play another time." Sofía replied with a grudge, her nail scratching her leg, but she paused. Wincing at her words was taken in. "I didn't mean that. I'm pathetic." The girl apologizes, her voice having a whine in it—she feels almost selfish. She always felt like she needed to succeed. Especially with something like this. So maybe that's why she usually got so worked up over volleyball; she needed to be perfect. No, she had to be. And now, she took out all of her frustration on her brother, and she hated that. She hated how she had just taken her irritation out on him. Sofía opened her mouth to speak, but her brother cut her off, his voice steady yet distant. There was a confidence in his tone, though something about it felt distracted, almost preoccupied.

"No, it's fair," Sergio tells the young girl, jerking his head to the side to signal her to pick up their sportswear, grabbing his towel that was tossed on top of his knocked bottle of water. Sergio's smile wavered as he adjusted the towel around his neck. "Let's call it a day, Bichito," he said, his voice quieter than usual. Sergio's voice mumbled as he glided the towel over his face, wiping off all of his sweat. He stood back as he watched his sister on the other side of the net begin to pick up their sportswear and bags. Once Sofía finished, Sergio moved around the net to grab onto the other half Sofía couldn't carry. "I meant it, Bichito. You're an exemplary player." Sergio told his sister, who seemed to calm down. Sofía went to adjust her backpack, seemingly oblivious to her brother's compliment, which was no surprise since it had been barely above a whisper.