On Thin Ice

Chapter 30- falling apart

NAMJOON POV:

Even if no-one mentions it, there's a thick tension in the air. It's palpable... suffocating.

A heavy storm-cloud that's descended over the changing rooms, a hush where voices are usually clamouring, laughing, teasing.

A silence that makes the uniform sit heavier than it's ever felt, each layer feels confining, feels like it strangles some part of breath from my lungs, eyes sweeping over the team, mentally counting in each player. Even though I know who's missing, for a moment, automatically my mind does a double-take, counting through the faces, cataloguing who's here and who isn't.

His absence noted, felt in the way that the team gets geared up, kit on, but there's a distinct gap where Jimin should be.

"Is Jimin really not coming to practice?" JB asks me, hand on my elbow, pulling me to the side as the other members file out of the changing room, ears pricking with focus, eyes flickering back towards us, the same question etched into their faces. Listening in, steps slowing.

"Coach's suspended him from practice—"

"Coach says a lot of things in the heat of the moment—"

"Coach has suspended him officially. Under gross insubordination." The bite in my voice is sharper than I intend it to be, voice raised.

JB's face shifts through a myriad of expressions. Shock, disbelief, confusion and then anger.

"Coach can't do that—we're weeks away from the final game before we compete regionally. We've got that event next week to scout out the best teams in the country—"

"Apparently Coach makes executive decisions without considering the team and without considering what's at play here. I just—I'm working on it Jaebum." I mutter, the familiar bubble of anger under my skin, the fury simmering in my veins. The tightness in my spine that coils tighter at the look of sheer disbelief and frustration that flashes across JB's eyes.

Knowing full well that Coach's power-trip looked as if it could cost us.

As if the desire to win, to prove something... to Jimin, to us, was going to be at the cost of the team. Of our title this year. Of every single one of our careers.

"It might not be something you can fix by yourself. If you need the team use the team. Lean on us."

"I'll talk to Coach after this session—it's just—"

So fucking unfair.

So, so unfair.

To teach Jimin a lesson about how much control, how much power Coach holds by lording it over him.

Benched mid-game.

Pulled out of practice.

The future upcoming matches and Jimin's participation in them dangle uncertainly.

Unsure as to how far Coach intends on pushing.

Unsure as to whether Coach knows how many cracks and fissures have already begun to appear and how if he continues to push and push—he's going to make everything snap. And there'll be no coming back from a devastation of that scale without consequences. Without losses.

"He needs to put the team before his ego. Or we'll end up paying for it." JB mutters, a storminess in his expression, hand squeezing my shoulder before falling away. Falling into step beside me as we exit the changing room, head towards the ice, the whole team and the subs already gathered in front of Coach.