3 Points

The glaring red numbers counted down, every nanosecond mounting upon her shoulders as she swung around and grabbed the ball.

Bodies closed in around her like one entity, a shark in the water, maw wide open. So many bodies; so little time. The next five seconds would cement her destiny.

12 to 11.

This is it.

Her hands pressed against both sides of the ball. She couldn’t think, couldn’t hear anything. The red-rimmed net swayed in the horizon, seemingly miles away from where she pivoted at the edge of the center circle. A din of voices rose and fell around her.

Bodies. Bodies everywhere. They’re too close now—she can hardly breathe. She needed to breathe. She had to break free.

She breaks away—it was a miracle, but it’s not enough.

Free, free—three seconds. This—this is it, she dimly told herself as she began to race toward the net.

Two.

She wasn’t going to get closer. A three pointer was her only chance. It was now or never.

One.

The ball sailed across the air from far beyond the three-point line, the hope of her entire team trailing behind it.

The force of her shot sent her forward, falling on her knees, head up as she watched. The rumble of footsteps came up from behind her.

The ball hit the rim, spun—she held her breath, her heart hammering a million miles a minute—and fell.

Out.

The ball hit the ground with a thud.

It was over.

The buzzer blared, and she collapsed, slamming her first on the ground as she tried to fight the tears, the intensity of her disappointment threatening to drown her right then and there.

They’d lost.

And it was all her fault.

They would not qualify for the finals.

And it was all her fault.

Above her, voices and limbs moved about, tugging her into hugs and telling her how proud they were. Lies that made the room unbearably hot. Her tears burnt a trail across her cheeks over and over, reminding her of her own weakness.

She couldn’t breathe, not when her disappointment smothered the air right out of her lungs, right there on that court. No matter how many breaths she told, she couldn’t gulp down enough air. Every breath burned.

God, how she hated to cry in public.

She closed her eyes. Tried to drown out the noise, the voices, and the colours. Arms and voices enfolded her so completely—they meant well, she was sure, but god, she just needed to ing breathe.

Suddenly, she was outside. It was a cold November, and she was still in her uniform. And yet she wasn’t cold. Instead, she was enveloped in a warm winter jacket—white. It wasn’t her own. It smelled like fresh rain.

It was her favourite scent in the world.

Her heartbeat slowed. Her arms fell against her sides, and she took a deep breath, allowing herself to melt into the white jacket.

“Hyejin,” came a sweet voice by her ear, “you were wonderful.”

Hyejin shook her head, but a pair of warm hands caught her cheeks and stilled her. “Listen to me”—Hyejin swam in the chocolate eyes before her—“you tried your best. And you were amazing.”

Hyejin sniffed and tried to nod as convincingly as possible.

Those warm hands cradled her cheeks. “I’m so proud of you.”

“W-Wheein, I...I let everyone down.”

“Never,” Wheein whispered, wrapping her arms around her neck. “You could never let me down.”

Hyejin sniffed, a fresh wave of tears falling freely now that she was alone with Wheein. She buried her face into the crook of Wheein’s neck, grateful for the safe arms steadying her as she shook with emotion.

“My brave, strong, captain,” Wheein cooed gently.

Hyejin shook her head, tried not to picture the disappointment on her team’s faces. The younger kids—they looked up to her so much and...and...how could she fail them so miserably?

“Hyejinie, look.”

Wheein kissed her temple, then tilted her chin toward the window in the door. Hyejin looked up reluctantly, afraid to meet anyone’s eyes if they happened to be looking inside—the humiliation still burning fresh in her mind.

What she saw instead, however, was a sea of red and white, their uniforms intermingling as the teams shook each other’s hands. Some girls had their phones out and were exchanging contact information, while others were hugging like old friends.

“It was a splendid game,” Wheein said, grinning. “And you're the one who brought them all together. It's...it's amazing, Hyejin. It really, really is.”

Hyejin nodded mutely, then took a deep breath. She raised her eyes to meet Wheein’s, her heart thumping at the glittering pride she found inside her dark pupils. Thank you, she wanted to say. A million thank yous. God, even that didn’t scratch the depth of her gratitude for this girl. Words were so empty after a while.

So, she pressed her lips onto Wheein’s, and smiled when she sighed against her. For now, that was enough.

“Guess you’re ready to go back inside?” Wheein laughed, her breaths escaping in white puffs.

“Mm, one more,” Hyejin mumbled. She pulled her in once more by the hip and kissed her deeply, and, suddenly, she felt lighter.

When she finally broke the kiss, she swept the white jacket off her shoulders and draped it over Wheein. She pulled it tight against her, hoping her expression could convey even half the love and gratitude she felt.

Wheein’s smile broadened as she took her hand and laced their fingers together. “Okay, let’s go.”

End.

Notes: Hello all! I haven't updated in a while. Work has been crazy busy, and I've been trying really hard to finish the latest chapter of Freedom-Bound. It's surpassed the word count of the previous chapter but godDAMN it's still not done. 

I apologize for how short this chapter is. Truly, I just needed to get this scene out of my head. I watched our students play the other day and this devastating scene made me really teary. I felt her pain from across the court and...man, it I was something else. It was truly, truly amazing though and I can never forget it. So, of course, trash me decided to turn it into a quick fic.