"You're getting better," Yoongi observed, managing to only sound partially surprised.
Jungkook watched the net grow still after the last basket had gone in before looking over at Yoongi. "You think so?"
Yoongi nodded. "You've been making a lot more of your shots, and you've been starting to make some of the more difficult ones. You're getting some of the muscles you'll need, and if you keep training, you'll build up more of that muscle mass. Then everything we've been doing so far will only get easier."
Jungkook liked the sound of that. Practicing an hour late with Yoongi everyday on top of normal practice meant that his arms were completely sore when he got home. He'd started flicking light switches up with his foot (when his mom wasn't around) because reaching up for anything sent more pain down his arms. But he could feel the muscle Yoongi was talking about (and he'd started taking peeks at his arms in the mirrors lately to see if they were growing), and he liked the feeling of strength that he was starting to gain. "Do you think Namjoon will let me shoot in the next game?"
Yoongi snorted. "It's not really Namjoon's call to make. If you're in an open position on the court and you've got a chance at getting the shot off, then it's your own call. Your shots are looking good, and – barring an unexpected visit from your dad that leaves you stumbling around on the court like a three-legged giraffe in a wheelchair – I'd pass to you if you were open."
The words left a slight flush on Jungkook's face. That was high praise from Yoongi. Jungkook hoped he would live up to it in the next game. "Then I need to get faster, right? So I can get open?"
Yoongi nodded, his hair flopping around on his forehead. Jungkook had noticed it getting longer, but Yoongi had made no attempt to change it. Jungkook had the unconfirmed feeling that Yoongi had made more of an effort on his appearance when he'd been on the real basketball team and had a girlfriend. "That's one of the next steps. If you don't get open, then it doesn't matter how well you can shoot because you'll never get the opportunity. But it's not just speed, it's agility too. Especially when we have to maneuver around in these wheelchairs. We aren't used to that motion, and trying to navigate around other players on the court is unfamiliar too, right?"
Jungkook nodded. He'd nearly collided with some of the opposing team yesterday, but they had all been in much better control than he had been and had smoothly slipped around him. "So speed and agility."
Yoongi nodded and tilted his head, eyes squinted. Jungkook knew that as his Thinking Face. It meant that Yoongi was trying to figure out what was the most effective way to train. Jungkook had honestly been surprised to find out that Yoongi was actually a really good trainer; he hadn't expected the cantankerous older boy to be patient or good at instruction, but for the most part, he'd been great at both of those things. Minus a few side comments when Jungkook screwed up. "Time's almost up for today, but I have a few ideas about drills we can start running tomorrow," Yoongi said, turning back to the bench to grab his things but stopping, his hands rubbing the hand rails back and forth. "Last thing for today – five laps. First one to finish gets- I don't know yet. Some sort of prize."
Jungkook snorted but lined up next to Yoongi. "All right, I'm game."
Yoongi gave a countdown – 3, 2, 1, Go! – and then they were both pushing as fast as they could with sore arms down the length of the court. Jungkook felt like he was flying, but he knew Hoseok would laugh at him before lapping him twice at the speed he was going. He and Yoongi were about even for half a lap before Yoongi started pulling ahead, and in the end, Yoongi beat him by almost a full lap. Still, Jungkook finished the last lap before rolling over to his stuff, panting with exertion.
"We're going to do that...at the end of...every practice," Yoongi informed Jungkook, trying to appear as though he wasn't equally exhausted.
Jungkook just gave a nod, which took less effort then speaking. They packed up their wheelchairs, and by the time they were heading out to Yoongi's car, they'd both regained most of their breath. "What do you win exactly?" he asked, curious.
Yoongi paused, his hand on the driver's side door handle, before he slipped into the car, Jungkook imitating him on the opposite side. "Today was just a practice race," he decided as he inserted the key into the ignition. "Tomorrow will be real. Then there'll be a prize."
"Uh huh," Jungkook said, trying to hide his grin because he knew Yoongi would get grumpy. Somehow he knew that there definitely would have been a prize if Jungkook himself had won, and that if Yoongi won tomorrow, there'd probably be another excuse as to why that race didn't count either.
It was strange, how he was starting to warm up to Yoongi. He couldn't tell if it was him who'd changed or Yoongi, but he didn't despise him anymore. Before, he'd been dreading an entire season with the older, but now he was wondering exactly how many weeks their season would be and if they'd still be able to play after it officially ended.
The thought of the season ending reminded him of why he'd joined in the first place, and he immediately felt sick to his stomach. He looked out the passenger window so Yoongi wouldn't notice how pale his face had gotten all of a sudden. How could he have forgotten? He hadn't thought about the accident in almost a week. How could he have failed to remember the pain and trauma he'd caused, that he could have been the reason behind someone like Jimin or Hoseok?
He didn't understand how he could have let that tragic fact slip his mind. Immediately after the accident had taken place – immediately after he caused the accident; he hated letting himself think of it in ways that absolved him of culpability – he'd been obsessed with it. Wondering about the other boy, what would happen to him. Wondering about himself, if this one event made him a bad person or if even good people had blind spots. Wondering if his mom would ever trust him again. Wondering if the other boy's mom would ever forgive him.
The answers he'd come up with hadn't been pleasant.
And now he had to wonder if it was okay to not always be thinking about what might be his greatest sin, if it was okay to enjoy himself occasionally or take a break from the guilt that felt like an anvil sitting on his chest, snapping his ribs one by one and slowly crushing the vital organ beneath.
This might be the first time that Jungkook realized, really realized, that getting a stupid sheet of paper from the judge signed by Namjoon wouldn't absolve him of anything, wouldn't fix any of this – the boy he'd broken, the mothers he'd wounded, the guilt he carried. He'd originally thought of the community program as a means to an end, a solution – but now he was seeing the band aid for what it was. Namjoon's signature wouldn't fix anything. Completing the program wouldn't fix anything.
Jungkook didn't know if he could go on his whole life with this guilt...
...but he didn't know how to get rid of it.
He was quiet for the rest of the ride, and although he could tell that Yoongi noticed his abrupt shift in mien, he said nothing. He dropped Jungkook off as usual, and Jungkook stayed in the driveway long enough to watch Yoongi drive off before going inside to an empty house.
--updated 07/16/20--
