"LISTEN TO ME!" she cried out. The entire court went deathly still. Players from both teams froze mid-motion, and the chatter in the bleachers cut off as if someone had pulled a plug. Everyone stared at the boy in the center of the court, stunned by the sudden, undeniable power in his chest. Se-na herself felt the vibration lingering in her throat, her eyes widening.
She hadn't expected the sound to be so massive. It wasn't just a shout; it was a roar that seemed to draw from the very bottom of Ra-ik's lungs, a deep, resonant boom that tore through the cavernous gymnasium. The sheer volume of it was shocking, because she hadn't even used that much energy. She knew being a boy of youth the pitch would be low but hadn't realized that the voice could be so... absolute. It was a voice that didn't ask for attention; it simply took it. The echo of the voice persisted for a minute maybe as it sent a ringing in her own ears. It was clear that his voice was built for commands, vibrating in the floorboards and rattling the glass of the backboards.
She pulled her lips into a thin, straight line, cleared her throat, which felt like it was still humming from the effort and continued in a more measured tone this time speaking lightly. "But if I play poorly and we lose today's match, do not pin it on me! I am telling you now, I am not in peak physical shape today. My... coordination is compromised."
"Yeah, yeah, sure!" Seon-ho grinned, entirely unimpressed by her words once he recovered from the shock of her voice.
"It's not the first time you've used that excuse, Ra-ik," another boy chimed in, tossing a ball at her chest.
"What?" Se-na caught the ball by reflex, the orange texture rough against her palms.
Before she could argue, Seon-ho clapped his hands sharply. "OK! Take your positions!"
As the whistle blew, something strange happened. Se-na's mind was a whirlwind of panic, but Ra-ik's body didn't care. As the ball was tossed for the tip-off, her legs moved without her permission. It was exactly like suturing, when her hands would smoothly move through a complex arterial repair while her brain was thinking about what to have for dinner.
Muscle memory was a terrifying thing.
A player from the opposing team lunged for the ball, but Se-na or rather, Ra-ik's frame was already there. She pivoted on a dime, her sneakers squeaking with a sharp, rhythmic precision. Her hands moved with a fluidity she had never known nor experienced. She wasn't thinking about the game; she was just watching the court like a surgical field, seeing the gaps in the defense like veins waiting to be clamped all while standing in the gallery.
She dribbled the ball between her legs, executed a perfect crossover, and launched a three-pointer that touched nothing but the net.
Swoosh.
"Whoa! Not in shape, huh tiger?" Seon-ho yelled, running past her to high-five her.
Se-na stared at her hands in genuine shock. She was the MVP. Every time she touched the ball, it felt like she was part of a dance she didn't know the steps to, yet her feet never missed a beat. The heat of the game began to seep into her. The flushing of her skin, the rush of adrenaline, the raw, unadulterated camaraderie of the boys screaming her name…it felt good. Too good.
In the final seconds, with the score tied, the ball ended up in her hands. The clock was a red blur of numbers that were ticking five, four, three. She couldn't think anything she was just moving here and there past the players, drove through the paint, dodging a defender with a spin that would have been impossible in her old body, then leaped into the air, feeling the incredible, gravity-defying power of the young athlete's frame. For a split second, she was suspended in the air, the world moving in slow motion. There was pin drop silence as everyone was holding their breaths. Then she saw the basket and in an invisible movement she laid the ball in with a gentle flick of the wrist just as the buzzer let out a long, mechanical scream.
The ball rolled around the rim for an eternity before dropping through the net.
"GOAL!"
The whole court burst into a chaotic explosion of sound. It was like a dam breaking. The bleachers shook as people jumped to their feet, and the shouting was so loud it felt like it was vibrating inside Se-na's head.
"WE DID IT! WE DID IT! WE DID ITTTTT!!!!!
The boys swarmed her, a tidal wave of sweaty jerseys and joyous yelling. For a moment, the professional wall Se-na had built around her soul for thirty-two years simply vanished. She was laughing, her face bright and dripping with sweat. She found herself grabbing Seon-ho and the others, pulling them into a messy, jubilant group hug. She was shouting, high on the victory, feeling a sense of pure, uncomplicated joy that the real Maeng Se-na otherwise would had never allowed herself to experience.
After the game, Se-na went to the locker room, showered, and changed into a fresh pair of school clothes. Her muscles were humming with a pleasant ache, and a small, lingering smile was still fixed on her face as she walked out of the gymnasium.
The evening sun was low, casting long, golden shadows across the deserted grounds. She took a shortcut through a quiet, shadowed corner of the campus, her head down, eyes closing every now and then as she savored the relaxation of the post-game high.
She turned the corner near a brick storage shed, still smiling, when she saw a figure huddled in the shadows.
It was her. The younger, fifteen-year-old Maeng Se-na.
The girl was leaning against the wall, her ponytail slightly messy, her expression one of deep, simmering resentment. She looked around to make sure the coast was clear, and then, with a practiced movement of her wrist, she pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes from her pocket.
Se-na's smile died instantly. Her blood ran cold as she watched her younger self bring a cigarette to her lips and strike a lighter.
"No way..." Se-na whispered, her voice trembling. "Its that time???"
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