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The plan was simple, really.
It was not his, but Sound had it all memorised. His coach and manager repeated it almost like a mantra each time he spoke with one of them. It went exactly like this: change his place of education, join their badminton team, and therefore be able to practise the said sport during school hours, improve his skills relatively quicker than before without wasting time, continue building his name as one of the fastest rising in rankings athletes of his age. Plain and easy. Stupidly facile.
Up until it wasn’t anymore.
It all starts on his first day at the new school. He’s currently walking through the busy corridor, blissfully unaware of the whispers and louder talks around him as the music in his earphones is blasting at the full volume as per usual. Probably not the healthiest habit, but whatever. He’s very fit and active, and also has a really good diet that he (almost) always sticks to. He can let himself risk some deterioration of his hearing.
Only when he reaches his destination, which is the office, does Sound turn the music off and take his airpods out of his ears. Immediately after he’s done with that, he enters, bowing and greeting the school counsellor once she catches sight of him.
“Good morning,” the woman says back, gesturing for him to walk up to her desk. The young athlete quickly complies. “You’re the new student, right?” she asks.
Sound nods. “Yes, I am,” he confirms, afterwards realising he should probably tell her more than that. “My name is Saran”.
The counsellor hums at him before he can say anything else, clicking something on her computer that makes the printer beside her work. “Here’s your schedule, and here’s the list of our school’s clubs, though I guess you already know which one you’re going to join,” she smiles, pointing at his racket bag that’s slung over his shoulder, balancing out the weight of his backpack that’s hung on the other one.
Sound takes the two sheets of paper, quickly scanning them with his eyes. “Thank you,” he says, afterwards excusing himself and walking out. He looks at his wristwatch, seeing he still has more than ten minutes before the first lesson starts. He decides that since he’s already out on the hallway, he might as well go to the bathroom and refresh himself a little. He wants to look his best while introducing himself to his new classmates, and he should also regain his confident composure that got a little lost among the seas of people.
As he starts walking again, the instant regret of not putting his earphones back on hits him. Everything is utterly loud and annoying, and something he definitely didn’t miss throughout the week he didn’t attend school because of all the formalities he needed to take care of in order to be able to transfer.
Fortunately, the restrooms weren’t too far, and once he closes the door behind himself, most of the noises fade out. After realising he’s alone, he lets out an audible sigh and shakes his head, walking up to the sinks. However, he doesn’t even get to open the tap before one of the stalls is pushed open, and a tall silhouette appears next to him. Sound needs to fight off a groan, as he hoped for a minute of being just by himself. But he will probably get it when the guy finishes washing his hands, right? Right, yeah. The young athlete nods to himself mentally, finally bending down a little bit to start the water.
His focus barely has the time to be successfully turned to his hands, because all of the sudden, there’s a sense of terrible coldness on both sides of his neck, followed by somewhat of a breeze hitting him there, only making the freezing feeling even worse.
It’s only the fact that it took him by complete surprise why he didn’t react immediately, but now that he’s out of his initial shock, Sound catches what turns out to be a wet hand that was still placed on his nape, tugs on it, and twists it around so that whoever is the cause of this whole situation ends up crashing against the wall which was previously behind them.
“What is wrong with you?!” the stranger yells, though he quickly yelps in pain when Sound only tightens the grasp he has on his limb.
“I should be the one asking that question!” the young athlete shouts back, matching the other’s attitude. “Is messing with new students something you do for fun?!” he asks, not letting the black-haired boy escape.
“Wait,” the apparently taller of them says, his tone suddenly normal. “You aren’t Gun,” he mutters under his breath, probably more to himself than to anyone else.
Sound’s nostrils flare up as his annoyance grows. Just how damn stupid that guy is? “Yeah, no shit, asshole!”
“Aow, I just mistook you for my friend!” the stranger begins defending himself, and somehow, it manages to aggravate Sound even more. “And it’s not like something happened to you! If anything, you’re the one hurting me! Fucking let me go already!” he fusses as he continues trying to free himself.
The young athlete only scoffs, but finally releases the other boy. He doesn’t even as much as spare him another glance before walking out of the bathroom, his plan to refresh his look be damned.
Win groans as he plops himself into his seat in the classroom, rubbing circles into his arm that’s still hurting a little. His friends must’ve noticed that he’s grumpier than usual, as they immediately turn to look at him.
“Did something happen?” his seatmate, Por, asks, pointing at the hand Win is cradling.
The black-haired boy sighs, letting the limb fall back to his side. “Nothing. I just ran into some idiot,” he grunts, not keen on telling the story of how he for some reason thought the said idiot was the person sitting diagonally from him. They aren’t even a little similar. He doesn’t even want to know how he managed to do that.
Gun is halfway through opening his mouth, but before he can start speaking, the teacher enters, and everybody returns to their places. He only pats Win on the shoulder and turns around to face the board as he should.
The class is, however, nowhere near silent, as not-so-quiet whispers can be heard from practically every desk. The reason is that the teacher isn’t standing alone, but with a student by her side.
“This is Saran,” she says, pointing to the boy beside her. “He will be studying with you from now on. Please, make him feel welcome”.
The new student smiles, the expression confident in its manner. He bows a tiny bit and greets everyone with a simple ‘hello’.
“Shit!” Win gasps, poking Gun’s back to get the shorter boy to turn around. “That’s Sound Saran! One of the greatest badminton players of our age in the country!” he explains, taking his phone out and showing a video of Sound’s latest match in which he effortlessly defeats his opponent in two straight sets without losing even as much as ten points in total. “Explains why he seemed familiar earlier…” he mutters, not expecting anyone to hear.
His dear friend, however, has apparently acquired the sense of flawless hearing all of the sudden, as a wide grin spreads on his face. “So, you two already know each other? That’s great, Win! You will go ask him to join us!” Gun beams, and Por nods vigorously.
“No way! I won’t be asking him shit!” the black-haired boy huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Come on, Win! You know we need him!” Gun whines, pouting his lower lip out. “If we get him to join our team, our problem would be totally solved!” he points out, hoping to convince the taller boy. “We don’t know how much more patience the student council has left for us, and we would need to somehow promote our club to gain a new member…” he trails off, nipping on the inside of his cheek.
“He’s right,” Por hums with a nod. “And then we’d have to see if they have even ever held a racket in their hands before! That’s so exhausting, don’t you agree?”
Before the tallest of them can reply, their teacher speaks up again. “Take whichever available seat, Saran,” she instructs, afterwards walking up to her desk to start taking attendance.
While she’s busy turning on the computer, the new student looks around the classroom to spot an empty place. Only then does Gun realise that there is one right next to him, and so he quickly cleans his things out of the way. He then tries to catch Sound’s eyes, hoping that he will be able to convince the athlete to sit with him by flashing a friendly smile.
This does seem to do the trick, as Sound starts approaching the desk. Gun crosses his fingers, praying that the new student won’t walk away all of the sudden. Fortunately, that isn’t the case, and soon, the boy is standing right in front of him. “Can I sit here?” he asks, obviously out of nothing other than politeness.
“Yes, yes, sure! Come on, make yourself comfortable, friend!” Gun grins excitedly, lively gesturing with his hands. “My name is Gun, I’m the captain of the school’s badminton team,” he introduces himself, watching as the other’s expression shifts a little.
“I’m Sound. And I’ve actually been meaning to ask about that, so it saves me one conversation,” he says. “How do you recruit people here? What do I need to do in order to join?”
“Oh, then it must be nothing other than fate bringing you to sit here!” the captain beams, ignoring Por’s remark about it being the only available spot in the classroom. “Our rule is that in order to join, you just must enjoy playing the game. We don’t take in people who do it only to impress potential significant others,” he jokes, still trying to decode Sound’s expression.
The new student frowns. “Aren’t there any try-out matches?” he questions, visibly confused.
“Well…” Gun trails off, not sure how else to begin explaining. “Our team isn’t quite popular, most students prefer to join the rugby or football ones,” he says, deciding that being honest is the best option. “We’re actually quite desperate for a new member at the moment, as we need six participants to be able to join the next round of Shuttle Wave. And I’m confident we will be able to win by having you on our team”.
It’s unmistakable how Sound’s frown deepens, but before Gun can realise his poor choice of words, it’s already too late. “So, you want to leech off of my abilities?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
That’s the moment when Win eagerly joins the conversation. “Mind your words, asshole! Not everything is about you!” he snaps, halfway through getting up on his feet before Por drags him back down by the arm.
Sound turns his gaze to eye him rigidly. “I wasn’t talking to you,” he points out, afterwards turning his back to Win again.
“You jackass! How dare you-” the black-haired boy starts getting even more agitated, raising his voice as he tries to get the new student to face him again.
“Pawin, am I disturbing you?” the teacher’s voice comes, and Win immediately sinks back into his chair. He shakes his head and apologises quietly, immensely glad that the mathematician lets it slide as she goes back to taking attendance.
Needless to say, he doesn’t get to comment on the small snort that escapes Sound’s mouth.
A few hours later, when the bell for the lunch break finally rings, the Chinzhillas decide to send their one and only peacemaker, Por, to try and explain things to Sound once again. The shortest member of the team obviously agrees, willing to help in every way he can. After a quick scan of the cafeteria, he spots the otherwise empty table at which the athlete is sitting. He approaches it, already forming the whole conversation in his head.
“...so, what do you say?” Por asks at the end of his speech, tone careful but not exactly hesitant. He, however, crosses his fingers under the table, hoping that he managed to convince the athlete.
Sound merely raises an eyebrow at him, wiping the corner of his lips with a napkin before speaking. “I already said that I want to join. I don’t understand why you repeated everything the captain told me”.
Por’s eyes widen and he blinks quickly a few times with a smile, but he doesn’t get to say anything more as Sound stands up and leaves the table.
As the classes end for the day, the Chinzhillas unhurriedly make their way together to their locker room as always. They don’t expect to find Sound already there, changed into his sport clothes and stretching in place.
“You’re early!” Gun grins at him cheerfully, being as usual the one to try and break the ice at any given situation.
“What do you mean? Classes finished almost ten minutes ago,” Sound says dryly, having paused his exercises to do that. He watches as the team’s captain opens and closes his mouth, afterwards huffing out an annoyed breath of air.
“What are you displeased about? You could’ve just asked about our schedule,” Win comes to stand up for his friend, smirking in satisfaction when Sound falls silent. Serves him right. No way Win’s going to let that bastard talk that way to anyone he cares about!
The athlete, however, is quick to wipe the expression off of his face. “Can you stop butting into other people’s conversations?” he questions, thoroughly irritated, but keeps that fact away from his voice.
Sound’s indifferent tone makes something in Win utterly snap. “I wouldn’t need to butt in if you weren’t such a damn asshole all of the time!” he exclaims, and half a second later, he finds himself taking a few steps forwards with an intention to push the athlete’s shoulder, but Gun stands between the two before the conflict can escalate further.
“Come on guys, let’s get changed,” he says, looking around the locker room to catch everyone’s eyes for a second or so. He then walks up to his locker and unlocks it. “I’ll tell you the plan for this week while we’re here,” the captain smiles, watching as his teammates all start doing what he asked.
In Win’s opinion, this almighty Saran should consider himself lucky that Gun is so damn nice. He sends another stink eye at him before he takes out his clothes. He still can’t believe that his idol is such a bitch in real life. All of his media and public appearances so far suggest he’s a very nice person. Win guesses this only proves how fake those internet identities can be.
The silence in the room doesn’t last long, as after a mere few seconds, Gun speaks up to explain what they’re going to be doing throughout the next few days. He talks about his idea for the School Activities Fair that will be held at the end of this week. He wants them to play a few show-off matches, so that they can sell tickets to raise some money and also promote their team. It’s not something that requires a lot of preparation, but it definitely is a good idea to practise a little for it.
After receiving thumbs up for the idea, Gun’s already present smile widens. “Okay, then! Should we start the training now?” he asks, seeing that everybody is already done changing.
The Chinzhillas erupt into excited confirmations, such as: ‘let’s do it!’, ‘of course!’, and ‘we’re ready!’. They all start following the captain out to the courts, but as soon as he tugs on the door handle, a loud ringtone goes off in one of the lockers.
“Sorry guys,” Por apologises sheepishly. “Let me take this real quick, okay?” he says, running up to take his phone out and pick it up. “Hello, mom? Yes, I’m at practice now. Yes, I will be home soon. Kisses! Yes, alright. Bye bye!” he hangs up, and turns back to his teammates. “I’m done. Let’s go!”
Sound did click his tongue while the conversation was still ongoing, but he didn’t bother to comment on it. It was just a short call, after all. Nothing worth getting too annoyed about. They are going out to begin the training now, and-
“Hey hey, wait for me! I need to go to the bathroom. I’ll be back!” Win announces hastily, afterwards exiting the locker room but turning in the opposite direction from the hall. Sound lets out a long sigh, but sits down like everybody else.
“Well, that will take a while,” Phat points out resignedly, leaning his head against the wall. “Oh! Por, didn’t you say something about a new smoothie recipe you wanted to try out?” he asks, suddenly very energetic.
“Yes!” the shortest member of Chinzhilla springs up from the bench, beaming sweetly. “I bought fresh ingredients in the morning! I can make it for us!” he exclaims, clapping his hands. The others break out into cheers, making Sound’s eye twitch slightly.
Fifteen minutes later, they are already mostly done with their drinks, and there’s this brief whisk of regret bubbling inside of Sound. Their scent is heavenly, and maybe slurping on something cool would help him calm his irritation. He switched schools in order to be able to have more training opportunities and new opponents he could spare with. Not to spend his free afternoon sitting in a locker room with some unorganised bunch. He is really on the peak edge of snapping, and just then, Win comes back, which absolutely does not help as things only continue going south from then on.
It’s fine at the beginning. All of the Chinzhillas put their glasses away, no matter if they were empty or not. They even scold the tallest member for taking so long, and just as Sound thinks they are finally going to go out to the courts, another person stops the rest.
“We forgot the Holy Chinzhilla!” their captain gasps, afterwards quickly going to take what seems to be a plush of a mouse wearing sunglasses and they all pay respects to it. Sound is very reluctant, but puts his hands together anyway. His repulsed expression, however, stays as it was. “Okay, okay. We can really go now, yeah?” Gun asks eventually, his tone suggesting that the question is rhetorical. He waits to receive a few nods, and finally-
“Guys, it’s time for my tutoring classes,” Phat announces, turning around to go back to his locker. A collective groan noises through the room, and the bespectacled boy jumps to defend himself. “You can’t blame me! It’s not my fault!”
Sound has to put in a lot of effort to keep himself at bay when various accusations keep falling. Their captain fortunately steps in to rationalise again, offering that they can practise in full squad tomorrow. But then Yo informs tomorrow happens to be his dad’s birthday, and then Por says that the day after is their sacred movie day. So Friday it is, but what they failed to note is that Friday is also when the School Activities Fair will be held, and suddenly, Sound loses whatever was left of his patience.
“Oi! What the hell is up with you?!” the athlete snaps, letting out a sharp breath through his nose as he steps closer to them. “You dare to compete in Shuttle Wave when this is how you train?!” he almost shouts, resulting in the team’s captain walking up to him.
“Relax, Sound. Can’t you see they have personal matters to take care of?” Gun tries to reason with him calmly, but it’s to no avail.
“You’re also at fault here, Gun. You spoil them too much! That’s why nobody wants to pay attention to your team,” Sound says, and he can already see Win approaching them. Fighting off the very excessive eye roll seems pointless.
“Hey! You better watch what you say, dickhead!” the tallest of them warns, more than ready to bring this superstar down to the ground if necessary.
Sound doesn’t even try thinking of a response other than: “You shut your mouth”. His composure is long gone anyway. There’s no reason in trying to regain it all of the sudden. If anything, everybody here should be grateful that the presence of that idiot alone didn’t make him yell at the top of his lungs. Yet. “How about you all show me if you can play right first?! The captain should point out your mistakes in order to bring out the finest potential in each member. Has Gun ever done that? Or are you fucking flawless and don’t even need to practice?!”
The locker room falls fully silent, and the only noise heard is Sound’s scoff. He really needs to have a word with whoever on his management team thought this was a good idea. If anything, he’s only losing his time and nerves here, and that’s certainly not what was supposed to happen.
They all watch when Phat makes a move and starts changing back into his normal clothes, and soon, everyone begins doing the same. Not even a word is uttered, the tension so thick that a knife might not have been enough to cut through it.
As soon as Sound walks into his house, he goes to his room and immediately dials his manager’s number. He’s very frustrated about the whole day’s bullshit, and he definitely doesn’t want to have any more of it. He doesn’t care if it’s inconvenient for them to switch his place of education once again; if they want to have their prodigious athlete in his best shape, they better pull him out and away from this school and its lousy students.
“Hello, Sound?” a voice comes from the other side of the line, snapping him out of his agitated thoughts. He takes in a breath to calm himself, not wanting to accidentally snap at his manager, and curtly explains the reason why he called.
“Look, nong… I’m your manager, and I should be doing what’s best for your career. If getting you out of this school is still your wish after what I’m about to tell you, then be assured I’ll take care of that,” she eventually says once Sound is finished talking. It’s quiet for the next few seconds, and she inhales softly. “I know neither of you have made the best first impressions, but… don’t you think this is a good occasion for you to make some friends?” she asks carefully.
The hesitance Sound feels before speaking up again makes him realise how much the whole of today was an utter failure. He was subconsciously excited to meet other teenagers who play badminton, but aren’t success-driven snobbish assholes like all of the opponents he has met so far.
Like he, himself is.
His lips press into a tight line as he says the thought that’s been buried deep in his head ever since he walked out of the locker room not so long ago. “But they hate me”.
“Have they outwardly said those words?” his manager questions in a tone that tells him she’s smiling. And the silence that meets her tells her the answer. “Maybe try giving them a few more days, hm? If it’s still terrible by the end of the week, we will find you another school. Okay?”
Sound, once again, doesn’t reply immediately. He knows his manager is already used to it, so he doesn’t worry about her getting annoyed. He instead occupies his mind with thinking back to what he witnessed today.
The way all of the Chinzhillas were always ready to and did stand up for each other. The fact that they didn’t get upset with one another, even though there were so many reasons to do so. Even his first encounter with Win proved that they are used to being playful in each other’s presence. And, in all honesty, even watching that from aside felt so… nice. It showed the many great perks of friendship. Perks he is missing out on.
And to know he could have it, too, if only he wasn’t so difficult today? It quite frankly hurts. It is a locked far away ache, but it still is there. But Sound quickly realises that he absolutely won’t convince his manager to pull him out of this school by tomorrow. He guesses that he might as well make an attempt to do something about his relationship with the Chinzhillas. Even if it requires him to put his ego aside for a while.
Last night’s phone call with his manager made him think a lot, and so now here Sound is, early on his second day at Niyomsil High. He takes his place in the second to last row, glad that the first Chinzhilla to enter the classroom today is his seatmate, and also the one he wants to speak with.
He waits until the captain sits down and takes his things out before speaking. “Ai’Gun, can we talk?” Sound asks, preparing himself to swallow his pride for a while. “I wanted to apologise for yesterday,” he explains, first struggling and ultimately failing to keep eye contact.
“Oh?” Gun’s brows furrow together. “You’re fine,” he waves him off, a smile slowly appearing on his features. “I actually wanted to thank you,” he says, his gaze meeting Sound’s very confused one. “Yes! You- you were right. I do spoil my teammates too much, and if this carries on, we won’t go anywhere. I also am pretty sure your reprimand didn’t only make me think, but them as well. So, thank you, for waking us up”.
Sound is taken aback, and he doesn’t really know how to reply. A ‘you’re welcome’ would certainly be stupid. Eventually, he decides to settle with a nod. “Are we… good now?”
“Hey!” Gun exclaims, afterwards putting a hand on his shoulder. “Of course, we are! You are one of us now, man! No way anybody’s letting you go anywhere, even if you tried,” he grins, extending both of his arms. “Come on, give me a hug!”.
Sound does, and he smiles when Gun pats him on the back a few times. He can’t believe how seemingly easy it is to communicate with the shorter boy. And he couldn’t be more grateful about the fact.
Throughout the day, Sound learns that Gun spoke with Yo last night, and that he will come to the practice, and just leave early so that he can make it to his dad’s birthday dinner. The captain also asks him to be blunt and honest about everybody’s flaws on each training, so that all of the members can improve themselves. He’s a bit stressed when Gun invites him to their table during lunch, but most of that disappears when the Chinzhillas welcome him as if he’s always been there. It’s a feeling that Sound can’t exactly find the words to describe yet, but it definitely is a very pleasant one.
One of his teammates still does seem to be reluctant towards him, or at least his expression suggests so. But when Sound is about to bite into his sandwich, Win stops him, informing that there is a strand of hair on his hand close to where he’s holding his lunch. The athlete only then notices it and is able to get it away, afterwards thanking the tallest boy with a thin smile.
When the time for practice finally comes, Sound does exactly as he was asked to by Gun. He watches the Chinzhillas play against one another in various formations, and does his best to catch on the things that need to be corrected. He tells Yo to focus on improving his footwork, Phat that he often has a rather poor timing at returning shots, Por to work on service receptions, and Win-
“You rely on strength too much,” he informs, watching as the taller’s eyebrow cocks up, as if to challenge Sound to elaborate. “It may be fine now, but it will get back at you at some point. If you want to have a chance at-”
“Oi! I get it, you don’t need to criticise me more,” Win interrupts, huffing.
Sound clicks his tongue, slightly thrown off. “I’m not criticising you. I’m pointing out an issue in your playing so that you can work on it,” he says, keeping his tone level. “There is a difference”.
Win starts grumbling at him angrily, muttering insults under his breath.
The athlete ignores him for the sake of continuing the training.
“Shit, when did we become so good?” Por beams, turning to Sound after having watched a few intense exchanges between his teammates during their water break.
The taller out of the two can only smile slightly in satisfaction. There still is a very long way to go, but at least they are starting to move in the right direction. Especially-
“Why didn’t you run for that one?” he questions, folding his hands over his chest as he raises an eyebrow at the tallest member of the team. “You could’ve reached it”.
Win straightens up from his serving stance and points his racket at him. “If I could’ve reached it, I would’ve reached it!” he snaps, annoyed. “Why do you keep doting on me so much?! It’s because you think I’m slacking off, isn’t it?!”
Sound continues looking at him with the same, indifferent expression. “I didn’t say that,” he points out, watching as Win quickly thinks of a response.
“Your face says otherwise!” he accuses, afterwards turning back around to go back to his game with Gun.
The athlete can’t deny that this conversation amused him a little. But he can definitely see that whenever a similar situation occurs, Win doesn’t give up on trying to return the shuttlecock. It seems that Sound’s plan to push Win to get him to gradually unravel his full potential is working.
He scoffs quietly to himself, watching their game for a few more seconds before turning to Por. “Let’s go back to practising your serve reception”.
Friday seems to come faster than ever, and right as the second lesson ends, all students who are members of a club are allowed to go and get everything ready for the Fair. The Chinzhillas quickly make their way to the locker room and get changed into their team jerseys. Sound quickly notices how each of them have their full name handwritten on the back.
Gun takes an identical shirt like they’re all wearing out of an otherwise empty locker, and hands it to him alongside a white marker. He quickly scribbles ‘Saran’ in his neatest English writing and puts it on once he’s done. The captain smiles at him, clasping a hand on his shoulder before speaking.
“We will all play one match,” he declares. “Since we want to show off both types, I will play singles against Sound, but before that, Win and Por, you will play doubles against Phat and Yo. Is that fine with all of you?”
Everybody agrees, and after a thorough warm-up, the Chinzhillas start rallying in the assigned formations. Sound and Gun talk about their strategy to make their match really watch-worthy. They want to gather as much attention for their club as possible, after all.
During the water break, they discuss the best way to sell the tickets, and eventually settle with just doing it right in front of the gym’s entrance.
Not even thirty minutes later, the captain announces the end of their preparations, saying that he doesn’t want anybody to be exhausted before the matches. They’ve had enough time to figure out their plans, and the best they can do now is relax. Por makes smoothies for everyone, and they spend that hour and a half mostly on playing board games that are for some reason stocked in one of the locker room’s corners.
When the Fair finally begins, the tickets sell out in no time. Win denies it when Por says it’s mostly thanks to Sound and goes back to focusing on their stretching. They have a match to play, and Win is set on not only showing off in front of the people, but also on proving his skills to a certain bastard with a big ego. Some downbringing of it would certainly be satisfying.
He finds himself smirking unconsciously at the thought of Sound going silent after being asked about his flaws now. He has been working on correcting his issues, maybe to actually become better for himself, or maybe just in spite of Chinzhilla’s newest member.
“Aw, you’re smiling!” comes Por’s excited voice as he points at Win’s expression with his index finger. “What are you thinking about? Or is that a certain somebody that brought such a curve to your lips?” he teases lightheartedly.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Win immediately snaps out of his thoughts, quickly defending himself. “Nobody’s making my lips do shit!”
The shorter boy only snorts, shaking his head. “C’mon, let’s do the assisted exercises,” he says, reaching out to hold the taller boy’s hands so that they can get started.
As they walk out on the courts, Win scans the stands in search of Gun, but he quickly realises that the captain alongside Sound are going to be the judges of their match. Por, however, must not have noticed it, as he waves at somebody in the crowd. It appears that his best friend has the tendency to accidentally mistake people, as it is not the first time something like that happens.
Phat and Yo are already there, and they all exchange handshakes and good lucks. After that, Por takes his place by the net while Win goes to the back. The tallest member of Chinzhilla is then given a shuttle and soon the game starts.
The first point is scored by Win. And he can’t help looking in Sound’s direction and smirking at that bastard once their eyes meet.
Once the set is theirs and a loud round of cheers rings through, the expression on Sound’s face is oddly close to a smile.
The second set has them running around way more. Win has to reach where normally Por would and vice versa. It’s as if Phat has suddenly learned to chase people around the court with his shots, whilst Yo is calm as usual but his returning of the shuttlecocks is better.
Win isn’t able to reach the last shuttle of the set. But he tried. He did run for it, even though he knew it’s most definitely pointless. The feeling of knowing he couldn’t have done anything, however, is better than the ‘what ifs’ that make their way through his thoughts every time he decides against attempting to return.
Not having the advantage anymore made Win stressed. But also determined. He still wants to wipe it into Sound’s face after the last few practice sessions, and it is his main driving force of this match. And so, he discusses a few things with Por during their short break to ensure they both are on the same page.
They do manage to see through their teammates’ strategy, and it is quite a bit of struggle at some times, but Win and Por successfully earn the twenty one points, which means the set is theirs and they are victorious in the game.
He looks at Sound, expecting to find the shorter boy with a scowl on his face, but instead, his vision is greeted with a dimple that is accompanied by a wide smile. Completely out of the blue, his instinct is to flash him a grin. And he does. Stupidly and pointlessly, he does.
Idiotic.
Gun’s match with Sound is less dynamic, and it’s no surprise that the latter comes out victorious. Though their rallying is certainly more impressive, and the way they move around the court is also more graceful.
Win watches it all without focusing on judging it as he’s technically supposed to. He’s grateful that his three fellow teammates are doing a better job than he is at the moment.
It’s moments like this one when they’re all able to see why Gun is their captain. Sure, he’s the best leader out of their whole group, but he’s also their best player. And it shows, because not everybody can make Sound Saran feel challenged in a match. Win knows. He’s watched all of his competitions so far, after all.
He suddenly remembers why he admired Sound so much. Everything about him is just so… exceptional. From his focused expression and playing technique to his eyes and the way he wipes sweat off of his forehead with the back of his hand. It’s just too bad he’s such a damned bastard, because- shit. He’s complimenting a guy he dislikes.
The match is over, and Gun immediately crawls under the net to embrace Sound instead of giving him a handshake. They whisper something into each other’s ears, and then turn to the crowd, waving at them with full smiles. Win feels something unusual in his chest.
Shit indeed.
“We did well,” Gun grins once they are back in the locker room, “Great job, everyone!” he praises, holding his arms out for a group hug. Sound is hesitant at first, but Por and Gun are quick to pull him in.
“Ugh, that’s enough guys,” Phat says after a couple of seconds. “We are all sticky with sweat. It’s disgusting”.
The whole team agrees, and so they step back away. “Let’s go shower and then for some dinner! Everybody down?” Por asks, causing a round of cheers to erupt. “Great!” he beams, clapping his hands.
“Whoever takes the longest has to pay!” Gun shouts, already rushing off to the bathrooms, causing the Chinzhillas to panic and quickly gather their things to go do the same. Sound smiles to himself, hurrying to make sure he’s not going to be last.
It’s safe to say that his manager won’t need to spend her weekend trying to find him another school.
Saturday and Sunday roll by quickly as per usual, making Monday come inexplicably fast. They had a test on the last lesson, so the training being right after it served as a great prize.
“Okay, so! I thought it over throughout the weekend, and I have decided our three doubles pairs for this round of Shuttle Wave!” Gun says excitedly and opens the notes app in his phone.
“Wait,” Sound halts him. “You didn’t say anything about playing doubles”.
Before the captain can reply, Win already does. “Why? Don’t tell me you’ve never played doubles before,” he scoffs, raising his eyebrow at the shorter boy.
“I have, obviously,” the athlete defends himself, rolling his eyes in irritation.
“Are you saying you can’t do it, then?” the tallest member of the team continues pressing, but Sound’s answer is silenced by Gun clearing his throat loudly in order to gather everyone’s attention again.
“Phat and Yo, you will play together. I was really impressed with your match at the Fair, and even though you lost, I’m sure that we can improve a lot of things during the two weeks we still have left to train!”
The two teammates look at each other and shake their hands, promising the captain that they will do their best. Gun nods at them with a grin, and then turns his gaze to the shortest member of Chinzhilla. “I will pair up with Por,” he says, proceeding to explain why. “I’m good at receiving the serve, and I think your stability will match my flexible style”.
Por hums, nodding a little after. “Yeah, that makes sense,” he agrees once he thinks about it, beaming at their captain.
“Good!” Gun mirrors the expression. “And now, lastly, Sound and Win. You will be our last pair,” he announces, looking at them and awaiting the reaction.
Win is first to voice his dissatisfaction. “Aow, why do I have to be paired up with him?!” he whines, pointing at the shorter boy. “And why did you separate me and Por? You just said we’re the team’s best doubles pair a few weeks ago!”
“Yes, but that was before Sound joined us,” the captain says. “I considered other options, believe me, but out of the whole team, your playing will complement his best. And I need to do whatever that has the biggest probability to bring us victory,” he clarifies.
After a few more grunts of displeasure, Gun decided they should try standing at the same side of the net. They left the shooting machine for Phat and Yo to work with in the meantime, so that everybody was being productive.
Fifteen minutes and a lost set on Sound and Win’s side later, Por and Gun exchange knowing looks.
“Are you stupid or dumb?!” comes the professional athlete’s clearly frustrated shout. “That one was clearly mine to take! The point would’ve been ours if you didn’t butt in and let me take care of it!” he accuses.
“Oi, asshole!” Win snaps, walking closer to the shorter boy. “You kept on returning every shuttle before they even had the chance to reach me! So shut the hell up and don’t you dare start a problem about this with me!”
“I’m not starting a problem with you! You’re the one who’s at fault!” Sound accuses, already fuming with anger.
Win takes the final step forwards and pushes the shorter boy’s shoulder. “If you can't shut your mouth by yourself, maybe I should do it for you with my foot, huh?!” he yells, halfway through raising his leg to do just that when he is stopped.
“Hey!” Gun shouts, quickly running to separate them before the situation is unmanagable. “Calm down. Your play isn’t bad, per se, you just…” he trails off, looking at Por to seek help from him.
“Lack coordination!” the shortest boy fortunately comes to the captain’s rescue, and they both sigh in relief when Sound and Win merely huff before taking a step away.
“Look, Sound,” Gun turns to fully face the said boy. “You don’t need to return every shuttle. You have to trust Win with some shots,” he starts explaining calmly, doing his best not to aggravate any of the two further as he does. “And, Win, don’t make things more difficult for him. You are supposed to work as a team”.
“It was rather obvious that we won’t play well together,” the professional athlete points out. “Is that all the advice you have thought of?” he sneers.
“Well-” Gun starts, but doesn’t continue, which answers Sound’s question.
“Okay, we have come up with a perfect plan!” Por exclaims first thing when they see each other in the morning, his beam present despite the ridiculously early hour. When the two confused Chinzhillas face him with questioning expressions, the shortest member elaborates. “Your issue is that you can’t coordinate with each other, right?” he asks rhetorically, looking at Sound and Win who nod. “Exactly! So, the best way for you to work well together is to get you to bond!”
Win scoffs, folding his hands. “I don’t want to bond with him,” he informs, earning himself a smack from the team’s captain. “Ow, what was that for?!”
“It was to shut you up, Winny, because,” Por explains, his smile somehow widening even more. “We already have a date scheduled for you two!” he informs, clapping his hands excitedly.
“Have you ever considered that I may be unavailable?” Sound questions, stuffing away the shock he felt at first. “My schedule is always fully packed”.
“Oho, look at you, big star!” Win huffs mockingly, annoyance filling his system to its very brim. “See? The almighty Saran can’t be even bothered to sacrifice an hour of his precious time! Why do you want to pull me into this?”
Sound’s nostrils flare up. “I said that because they’ve already decided the time beforehand!”
Gun grins, gently patting his seatmate’s shoulder. “Now, now, let’s calm down, friends,” he says. “Don’t you worry even the slightest bit! Your date can definitely take place, as it will be tomorrow during our training time!”
“So, I have to spend quality time with that idiot and miss practice?!” the professional athlete snaps, and is just about to get this utterly idiotic idea out of their teammates’ heads, but is cut short by the captain.
“No, no! This will be your practice!” he clarifies, only earning himself two deathly glares. “Look, what you two currently lack is the ability to work as a pair. And you simply just need to become friendly with each other!”
Sound raises an eyebrow. “I’m not up for that,” he informs, tone level yet repulsed.
Win scoffs. “Oh, then I simply won’t come! Problem solved,” he folds his arms over his chest.
“Sh shh shhh… peace and quiet,” Por shushes, stroking his seatmate’s arm. “Peace and quiet,” he repeats, waiting for the right moment to speak again. “And both of you are coming. No trying to shirk allowed!”
“Yeah? How are you going to check? Are you going to ditch practice to watch over us?” the tallest of them challenges with his eyes, but his best friend doesn’t react, already more than used to Win’s ‘scary’ looks.
Por smiles at him for another time. “No, silly!” he shakes his head, clasping his other hand on Win’s shoulder. “Gun already asked auntie Gim to do that. She’ll tell us everything, so nobody misses their training!”
Win groans loudly, his head finally hitting the desk, and Sound merely eyes him from the side, just as Por says: “So! Tomorrow at three o’clock at auntie Gim’s milk bar”.
Their dinner date was rather uneventful. They managed to eat mostly in silence, mainly out of respect for their friend’s mom’s business, and only broke out into a (relatively quiet) verbal fight two times. It should be fine, but Sound is pissed. He is fully aware that no matter how much bonding exercises he’s forced to do with that idiot, his skills in doubles won’t get any better.
And thus, he has decided to take the matters into his hands and simply train on his own. All he needs is the shuttlecock machine and his racket. He will only stay on the front lane of the court’s half, and decide which shots are his to return and which he’s supposed to trust his partner with.
Easy as that.
He will come in the next day on practice, watch Por and Gun’s reluctant expressions, stand on the same side of the net with Win and show them the effects of his extra training. He will prove his skills and feel that special kind of satisfaction when they praise him.
But first, he still needs to stay at the gym for another few hours. Sound can see the sky already darkening through the big windows, and he finds himself letting out a sigh. His earphones ran out of their battery, because he somehow forgot to check if the charger was working before he went to sleep last night.
Well, whatever. He should get started to have this over with as fast as possible.
Win’s pretty much upset that this whole bonding thing he was forced to attend made him miss practice, as he really feels the need to let his emotions out today. And what’s better than unleashing it all on the poor shuttlecocks with the use of his well-worn out racket?
And so, he makes the decision to go and train by himself. He doesn’t want to be home at the moment, anyway, knowing that his dad would make him spend the evening in his garage.
When he arrives, the lights in the gym are on, and soon, he finds the person who’s the reason for that.
“Practising doubles requires two players standing on the same side of the net, you know?” Win says proudly, watching as Sound continues either returning the shuttles or holding back from doing so whenever the machine shoots them out. He doesn’t get any reply, and he can only snort to himself before grabbing a racket out of the school’s stash and joining his doubles partner.
Win isn’t exactly sure how long they continue practising. He doesn’t even know how many times they collect the shuttlecocks in order to fill the machine again. But he’s certain that Sound is way more bearable when he’s quiet like this. It’s almost like he’s relaxed when the only noise apart from their game is the occasional squeak of their shoes against the floor.
It’s not that their coordination is great now all of the sudden. But there most definitely is some sort of an improvement. Maybe Por was right, after all, and-
Before Win gets the chance to get mad at his thoughts, Sound hisses out in pain, cradling his left wrist in his other hand. “Shit”.
“What happened?” The taller out of the two asks, frowning as he leads Sound away from where the flying shuttles can hit them. He notices how the athlete keeps massaging the spot, which is unmistakably turning at least a little red. “Fuck, did you get injured?” he curses, trying to see for himself.
Sound pulls his hand away from him. “It’s nothing,” he reassures. “It sometimes happens when I overexert my hand,” he explains. “Can you get me the cold spray from my bag?”
Win nods, and quickly makes his way to the benches. He unzips the bag and pushes the towel Sound has there aside so that he can find what he’s looking for easier, but his eyes catch-
“You’re… gay?” Win’s tongue works before his brain does, making that question slip out of his mouth before he has a chance to do anything about it.
Sound freezes for a good second or so, wondering- shit, his pride pin. How could he forget about it being there? Great. Fucking terrific. “Yeah?” he shrugs eventually, manoeuvring his tone to seem like he’s totally unruffled by the fact he’s just outed himself, even though he’s currently sweating while anticipating the taller boy’s further reaction.
“Oh, cool,” Win notes, and finally fishes out the spray. He then walks back to Sound, but instead of giving him the bottle, he gently grips his injured hand. “Let me,” he says, proceeding to slowly colden the place. “We should stop for today”.
The shorter boy agrees, nodding. They clean up after their practice and walk outside of the school’s building. Sound quickly realises how much of a terrible decision not taking a shower before going home was, as his skin immediately covers in gooseflesh.
It gets even worse when they discover it’s raining. Heavily, at that. And it’s times like right now when Sound is pretty convinced that the universe dislikes him. Fortunately, he always carries his umbrella with him, so he takes it out and opens it. He’s about to start walking, but Win clears his throat forcibly, and for whatever reason, it makes him stop.
“Your hand hurts. Let me hold the umbrella for you,” the taller boy grins, already holding his hand out so that Sound would give it to him.
The athlete, however, can see right past that smile of his. “No way. You’re just doing it to make me share it,” he says, noticing how Win’s expression changes into a one of bewilderment.
“Of course, I am!” Win nods. “I don’t want to get soaked, idiot!” he snorts, getting behind Sound under the umbrella and successfully prying it out of the shorter boy’s grip.
“That way, we will both get drenched, my umbrella is small,” Sound points out, and not even a second passes before he’s being embraced tightly from behind. Instantly, heat rushes into his whole body, redness spreading not exactly evenly across his face, and he doesn’t even get to wonder why the fuck he’s reacting in such a way.
“Now, neither of us will get wet,” Win says proudly, tightening his hold on Sound for good measure. He doesn’t get any sort of reply, and so he decides to ask: “Is something wrong? Or are you simply shy?” he teases, wiggling his eyebrows.
“The hell? I am not!” Sound all but exclaims, the tone of his voice making him seem quite offended at the very least.
“Why is your heart beating so fast, then?” the taller boy questions, putting the palm of his free hand on the left side of Sound’s chest.
“What-” the athlete quickly takes it away, afterwards proceeding to answer. “I literally spent the last three hours training! How do you expect it to be calm?!”
Win laughs, putting his chin on the shorter boy’s shoulder. He then squeezes their bodies tightly together. “Right, sure,” he nods. “We should get going, huh?”
Sound starts walking without uttering another word. He also denies spending half of the night lying in bed with his eyes wide open while thinking of this occurrence.
The next day of practice has both Por and Gun beaming in pride when they see Sound and Win’s progress. But the athlete doesn’t get to feel the satisfaction he wanted to when they get praised, because his doubles partner admits that they trained together last night.
He can only suppress a groan when the expression of their captain changes into a shit-eating grin. And he can only suppress a yell of agony when he learns that they now will be sent for another ‘date’, since the first one worked so well.
Fucking thank you, Pawin, is the message that his glare sends. At least that’s the sentence ringing through his mind when he fires it.
He ignores the sensation in his stomach when the taller boy scrunches his nose, as if to sarcastically say ‘You’re very welcome, Saran’.
The said date turns out to be a trip to the photographer’s on a Friday evening. Why? Well, while Sound and Win were out on a dinner at the beginning of the week, the rest of the team happened to encounter the vice-president of the student council, who took pictures of them. And Por is very set on collecting every memory of the team in his scrapbook, so he absolutely needs photos of all their doubles pairs for this round of Shuttle Wave.
And so here Sound is, waiting for Win who was supposed to meet him in the public park near the studio around ten minutes ago. He does his best to ignore his growing with each passing second irritation, but it all pretty much is pointless once Win finally shows up.
In the afternoon, Sound received a text from Gun that said: ‘Dress nicely!’, and so he did. He is wearing one of his favourite shirts, a deeply yellow one, which can be considered both proper and casual. He has a pair of black trousers to go with that, and some silver jewellery to match the buttons of his shirt. Nice and neat.
Win, on the other hand, apparently didn’t receive a message of similar content. Or perhaps he did, but he thoroughly ignored it, seeing as he’s in a light purple hoodie with Patrick the Star on it and eye-fucking blue sweatpants. Great.
“What are you wearing?! Are you a rapper wannabe or something?” Sound asks first as soon as the taller boy is within the range of hearing, deciding to spare him the talk about the importance of punctuality.
Win’s brows furrow. “Something I won’t look ridiculous in while holding a racket, asshole!” he shoots back, making sure that Sound sees how he scans his outfit thoroughly. “Who fucking exercises in shirt and slacks?!”
The shorter boy clicks his tongue. “We aren’t training, are we?!” he snaps. “We’re supposed to be looking neat and presentable!”
“They took their photos during practice!” Win points out, watching as the other raises an eyebrow at him. He rolls his eyes. “Do you think their carry fucking tuxes in their schoolbags or what?! Everybody must’ve been captured in their sports clothes!”
Sound opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes to his mind. His face goes red as a wide grin spreads on Win’s own.
The taller of them eventually snorts, breaking the silence. “C’mon, mr. Neat and Proper. We don’t want to be late, do we now?” he wiggles his eyebrows teasingly, still not receiving an answer.
(Their photoshoot was preceded by Por calling Win to make sure both of them were going to smile widely for the camera. And it really took a lot of effort for them to stop their arguing before entering the studio, and even more so to look happy to be there.
The photographer either didn’t give a flying fuck, or simply decided not to comment on them throwing insults at each other through gritted teeth of their forced smiles while the pictures were being taken.
Sound prefers to deny the fact that his heartbeat picked up on pace when Win threw an arm over his shoulders at some point.)
Denial and ignorance, however, can only last long if they are regarding something that isn’t plaguing one’s thoughts most of the time. And this? This can’t seem to stop occupying Sound’s mind ever since it first happened when Win hugged him under the umbrella some moons ago.
The “this” in question being his heartbeat basically starting to skyrocket whenever Win initiates any sort of physical contact with him. Sound cannot for the life of him figure out why the hell does it happen, even though it takes over his brain at literally every living minute when he doesn’t have anything that bothers him more at the moment.
Therefore, Sound does what he’s best at. Overthinks and over-analyses.
The facts are that he indeed was still affected by running around on the court that rainy evening. He also was, and still is, genuinely confused as to why he got so… flustered . It was technically just a hug. The Chinzhillas hugged him many times, including Win himself in the group embraces. It has never made Sound react in such a way before.
So why was that certain hug different from every other one? And why was it something from which on each touch he receives from Win sends a spark of electricity through his veins that forwards to his heart speeding up?
Even though Sound practically sacrifices all the time he’s awake to try and figure it out, it is only a few nights later when the realisation hits him like a ton of bricks. Or three, but whatever. Screw the idioms, he has always disliked them, anyway.
But he has also always disliked Win, and now it turns out he has a crush on him.
Oh fuck, even admitting it in his own thoughts is so embarrasing and stupid.
At this point, Sound is pretty sure he’ll go insane. If he hasn’t already, that is. Just how in the goddamned fuck did he manage to develop a crush on Win of all people? Can’t it have been Gun? Couldn’t it have been Por? Hell, even the secretary of the school’s student council would’ve been better! Why Win?
Why is it the guy who annoys him to the point of cracking a smile? Why is it the person who he sees so much potential in that he dotes on him twice as much as he does on the rest of the players? Why is it the boy who randomly initiates skinship and gives the warmest of embraces to his touch-starved self?
Why is it Win, who very much resents him?
Sound doesn’t know what else to do other than pick up his pillow and scream his lungs out into it. For once, he’s glad that he’s home alone. He definitely wouldn’t be able to explain himself if he were to wake somebody up with that shout.
Should he tell someone? Gun, perhaps? Yeah, maybe the captain would spare him the agony and separate their pair so that he can be miserable while trying to get over his newfound feelings in peace. Yes. That will be a smart, rational, and overall good move.
Or so Sound thought.
“Falling for your doubles partner?” Gun laughs when they stay behind after practice to lock everything up the next afternoon. “Damn it, that’s so cliche!” he all but bites on his fist, his shit-eating grin utterly uncontained.
“Shut up,” Sound groans, a flash of total regret going through his system. He’s not going to hear the end of the teasing now, is he?
“I will not!” Yeah. Obviously. “Enemies to lovers, huh?” the shorter boy nudges him with his elbow, the scowl it earns him not changing anything about his expression. “So, how do you plan on telling him?” the captain questions.
Sound’s eyes go full-on wide. “How do I-” he stutters, blinking three times in disbelief. “Have you gone insane?!” Questionable. But he himself most definitely has by now.
Gun shrugs. “Well, what else can you do?” he asks rhetorically, but then takes in a dramatic gasp. “Oh my god, Sound! Are you going to write him a letter? No, wait! It must be a song!”
The taller boy has long abandoned the rational need to measure the absurdity of his friend’s words. “What the hell, no!” he runs his hands down his face. He thinks everything through once again while doing that. “I won’t tell him at all”.
“Ah okay, I understand,” the captain nods, and Sound feels an immense amount of relief. He lets out a sigh to calm himself, but then, Gun speaks up again. “You want him to confess to you first! I got your back, friend! We will create a perfect situation!”
Sound doesn’t even have the energy to say anything to him. He has officially given up.
The next morning, they are greeted by yet another one of the absurd ideas to get them to bond. And currently, Sound and Win are walking through the school hallways, their midsections tied together by a loose rope that allows them some freedom, but not enough of it to let them step away from each other for more than a few metres.
Why? Sound presumes it’s most definitely because of his revelation from yesterday, and he has decided that trying to argue with Gun and/or Por is pointless by now, so he gave in, while Win is always willing to go along with his friends’ bullshit. Especially when Por pouts at him if he doesn’t agree.
“Why do I have to be tied to you?” Win groans, letting his head fall backwards dramatically, only for it to end up lying against Sound’s side. Oh well. It’s comfortable enough.
“You think I want to?!” the shorter boy snaps, his voice oddly panicked for a complaint, and attempts to shrug him off. “And get the hell off me!” he commands, and oh, how he’d like to just strangle Gun for intentionally putting him in such a situation.
“It’s early in the morning, why are you yelling?” the black-haired boy whines, pressing his face further into Sound’s shoulder. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, not responding to the next remark that leaves the shorter boy’s mouth.
“It’s fucking eleven, idiot!”
Before the training started, Gun decided that they can move around well enough to play a practice match while tied like this. And Win hates to admit that their coordination has actually gotten really good in a span of mere weeks.
But it is indeed the truth. He and Sound are somehow able to not get into each other’s way, and even actually be of help while on the court. Rope or no rope binding them together, they are in fact working well together. Even though so many of their training sessions begin, end or are interrupted with some arguments, Win sees the big improvement.
What he doesn’t see, however, is the reason why Sound is acting so cold again all of the sudden. And not only towards him, but Gun and their other teammates, too.
It was alright just yesterday. Hell, even in the morning everything seemed fine. Did he miss something? Or was that bastard acting up on his high ego again? Well, whatever the reason, Win realises that he doesn’t enjoy it even one bit when Sound is seemingly pissed.
He goes up to ask their captain about it once Sound all but storms out of the locker room after the practice ends, having beforehand closed his locker with definitely more strength than usual. Win isn’t satisfied with the answer he gets, which is something along the lines of: ‘Just leave him be’.
He’s forced to click his tongue at Gun, and before the shorter boy has another chance to speak, Win is already out to follow Sound in order to find out what the fuck is up with him.
Because of that, he misses Gun’s face breaking out into a grin, as well as his crescent-shaped eyes when he pumps a fist into the air.
“Ai’Sound!” Win shouts, having spotted the said boy and not wanting him to continue walking away. Fortunately, he turns in his direction and stops in his tracks, though there is a frown plastered onto his face.
“What do you want?” the shorter out of the two of them asks once Win is standing in front of him. He clicks his tongue when the only response he gets is a raise of an eyebrow. “I need to hurry, so be quick”.
“Why? Wait, wasn’t your manager supposed to pick you up?” the taller boy asks, as he remembers Sound mentioning something about his individual practice being rescheduled.
“She was,” the professional athlete nods, confused as to why Win memorised such a thing. “But her car broke down, and I need to go on foot. So, be quick, I don’t want to be late,” he explains, tapping his foot against the ground impatiently.
The taller boy’s brows furrow. Then, he’s struck with a realisation. “I have a ride, though,” he informs, pointing at his motorcycle that’s parked a few metres away from them. He doesn’t even wait for Sound’s answer before grabbing his right hand and dragging him there, afterwards fishing out the additional helmet.
“I never said I wanted to go with you,” the shorter of them points out, about to turn around to leave when he’s once again stopped. He huffs in annoyance, but doesn’t try to struggle against Win’s hold.
“Oi, quit whining and get on,” Win smiles, putting the helmet on the shorter boy’s head. He then gently adjusts the size of the strap. “Does it fit?”
Sound finally gives in and nods, and then waits for the taller boy to get on the motorcycle before mounting it himself. He makes sure his bags are placed securely on his back. He tells Win that he’s ready to go, but they don’t hit the road until Win makes sure he’s holding onto him tightly.
“Tomorrow’s the last day before the competition,” Win speaks up some time into their drive, only getting a hum as a response. “It’s a good thing that both the practice and the round are in the evening, don’t you think?”
The shorter boy shrugs. “It’s fine. I’ll just need to finish my own training early so I can make it here on time,” he says, scoffing when Win offers to pick him up. “If I trust you with that, both of us are going to be late”.
“Wanna bet, asshole?”
Just as he said, or rather bet he will, Win is there to pick Sound up at five p.m. sharp the next day. The latter counts this unusual punctuality as a miracle, and he even considers complimenting it, but decides against it in the end when the traffic makes them late.
When they finally arrive at the school, Sound expects everybody to be already after or at least during their warm up. He doesn’t even want to think about his expression of bewilderment on his face as the first thing they see after entering the locker room is a working grill.
“What are you guys doing?” he asks, not understanding why they are having a feast at a time they’re supposed to be training. He’s late once, and that’s what greets him?
“Aw, come on! One more day of practice won’t make us much better,” Gun waves him off while stuffing his mouth with another spoonful of vegetables. “We should spend this time relaxing”.
“ And bonding,” Por adds, winking at them. Win sends him a glare that makes the shorter boy recoil slightly, though that’s only for them to know. “Just sit down!” he instructs cheerfully, pointing to the two unoccupied pillows on the ground.
Phat seems to have connected some dots only when they are halfway through taking their places. “Why did you arrive together?” he questions, his eyes squinting in suspicion.
His question goes by without any sort of an answer.
Later that night, Sound is, once again, lying in his bed and overthinking instead of sleeping. He’s pretty nervous about tomorrow’s round of competition, and if that wasn’t enough, he also can’t stop thinking of his pitiful… infatuation .
Because, truth be told, as soon as they are done with the matches, Win most probably won’t set a foot into his orbit ever again. It’s so obvious that the tall boy is just spending time with him to be of help to Chinzhilla, and also to please Por and Gun.
He considered confessing. It’s technically better to rip off the bandaid and get rejected right away instead of suffering in silence for who knows how long. But Sound hates rejection. It’s too down-bringing of a feeling for him to be able to deal with.
But then again, Win seems to be worthy of taking that risk. Sound doesn’t think he’s ever been feeling this… happy? Is it even the right word to use here?
He sincerely doubts it, but before he can figure out a better one, his phone starts ringing, and Sound almost drops it on his face when he sees who’s calling. Almost being the keyword, as he doesn’t think he’d be capable of handling his racing heartbeat, flooding with thoughts mind and the pain that would certainly cause all at once.
Sound stares at it for a few more seconds before realising he should answer it before it’s too late. And so, he takes a very deep breath in an (unsuccessful) attempt to calm himself, afterwards finally swiping on his phone to pick it up. “Why are you callin-
“Can I come over? My family is being loud as hell, so I can’t sleep. And we have to be up early if we don’t want to be scolded by our almighty Saran,” Win says immediately, not even allowing him to finish the sentence.
Sound feels his blood boiling. Screw his very unfortunate crush on the guy. “You are speaking to me, jerk!” he huffs.
“Fuck! What are you doing with Por, asshole?!” Win all but yells, though there is genuine confusion tinting his voice.
“I’m not with him, dumbass! You dialled the wrong number!” Sound shouts back, even though the nervousness didn’t leave him even one bit.
“What the-” Win stutters, taking the phone away from his ear to check, and when the displayed contact is indeed “bastard <3”, and not “bestie <3”, he lets out a loud groan, blaming his sleep deprivation for deteriorating his vision. “Ugh, fuck me. I’m hanging up, then-”
Fuck it, this might be his only ever chance to have a one-on-one sleepover with his crush. A once in a lifetime thing, or whatever they call it. Therefore, Sound rushes to say: “You can come over, though,” before Win ends the call.
There are a few seconds of silence, but eventually, the taller boy sighs and replies with: “Send me the address, then,” and hangs up right after Sound does.
Only then does it hit him what he has just done. Sound holds his phone close to his chest, fearing his heart might jump out of his chest any second now.
Not even fifteen minutes later, Win is in front of Sound’s house with nothing but a small backpack and his racket bag. The shorter boy wordlessly lets him in, and then leads up to his room. He watches Win shrug off his jacket and loose pants while sitting on the bed, totally not letting the fact they are about to be lying mere centimetres away from each other affect him.
Finally back to being only in his pyjamas, which are shorts and an old shirt, Win walks up to where the other boy is and plops himself down next to him on the edge of the mattress. “So…” he trails off, successfully gaining Sound’s attention, afterwards lying on his back across the bed. “Why did you invite me over?” he asks.
The athlete sighs, thinking for a while before giving his answer. “For the same reason you came,” he decides to say, finally lying down next to Win when he sees the taller boy’s furrowed brows. “I can’t sleep,” he clarifies.
“Your bed is so comfortable, though,” the taller of them points out, melting further into it. “And the blissful silence! How can you have trouble falling asleep here?” he questions, the tone of his voice suggesting that he expects an answer.
The shorter boy shrugs. “I guess it can get too quiet,” he tells truthfully, catching eye contact with the other boy.
Win’s features scrunch up. “Ohoo, you are spoiled!” he says, afterwards making a move that allows him to sit up again. “Ever heard of a phrase that tells to enjoy the silence?”
Sound scoffs. “If you glorify it so much, why don’t you shut up more often?” he asks, purely rhetorically, though the expression that appears on the taller boy’s face because of it is absolutely priceless. He soon starts laughing, and Win calling him ‘jerk!’ only adds up to his amusement.
A few minutes later, they finally lay down properly under the covers. Sound has already brought an additional blanket before Win arrived, and he may or may not be regretting that decision right now as the taller boy is currently as far away on the bed from him as it is possible.
But Win’s also turning left and right, and all of his movements are creating so much unnecessary noises. It is very aggravating, but Sound decides to try and endure it for the sake of not wanting to raise his voice anymore tonight. His attempts, however, don’t last for long as he snaps: “Stop thrashing around, dammit!”
“Aow, it’s not my fault you don’t have a bolster! I can’t lie properly!” Win whines, for some reason unruffled by the shorter boy rolling his eyes to the sky. Sound supposes it may be because he couldn’t see it properly in the darkness of the room.
“Weren’t you scolding me for being spoiled just a while ago?! Suck it up and go to sleep,” he says, turning his back to the taller boy once again.
“Oi! You weren’t able to sleep because it was too silent for you! You don’t get to complain now!” Win points out, but doesn’t get any sort of an answer. It annoys him to the point of his nostrils flaring up as he figures out what to do. “You know what? Fine,” he nods, afterwards scooting closer so that he’s able to throw his leg across Sound. “Now that I have my impromptu bolster, I can lie still. Goodnight”.
While he was thinking about Win lying close to him mere minutes ago, Sound did not even think about the effect it may have on him. He also didn’t dare to imagine them cuddling. But whatever the fuck happened and his eyes are now wide open while his heart threatens to escape his chest, and oh, how he prays that Win can’t fell nor smell the sweat he suddenly feels all over himself and-
“Ai’Sound?”
The boy in question is immediately pulled out of his thoughts, and he instantly does what his senses tell him to. He once again snaps. “You were supposed to go to sleep,” he says through gritted teeth, trying his best not to let the panic influence the tone of his voice. “So? Why didn’t you?”
“I was about to tell you that your hair smells nice, but I guess you don’t want the compliment,” Win all but mutters under his breath, hoping that his tone is suggesting that he might be sulking. “But that’s fine. You don’t deserve it, anyway. Let’s sleep”.
Sound guesses he only falls asleep because the tempo of his heart manages to exhaust his whole body.
In the morning of the competition, Sound finds himself more stressed than usual at such times. His stomach is in knots, and he’s about to check the time, as he didn’t hear his alarm ringing, when an arm pulls him back down.
“Sleep more, it’s early as hell,” Win manages to utter with his groggy voice, not letting go of Sound even once the shorter boy is lying again. “We will lose because of you if you run out of energy by the afternoon”.
Somehow, those words make his eyelids feel sticky again. And he quickly falls back into his slumber, the half hug heavy with a pleasant weight.
In order to compete in the next round, the teams need to be victorious in at least two of their three doubles matches. The Chinzhillas currently have one victory and one loss, as Por and Gun unfortunately didn’t manage to beat their opponents. It obviously means that it all depends on their last double pair.
And Sound has to thoroughly ignore the tender manner of Win’s hold on his left hand as they stretch together before their match. He should be focusing on the fact that whether they will get to compete in the next round fully depends on the outcome of their game, and not on the butterflies going wild in his stomach, for fuck’s sake!
But when they are done with the exercise, Win doesn’t let go of his hand. Instead, he gently starts rubbing circles into his wrist. And oh, it’s so nice and relieving, even though it fortunately doesn’t hurt him at the moment. It’s more because the caress is grounding, and it makes him utterly stop thinking for a while and just breathe.
“Thank you,” he says after a minute or so, watching as a bashful smile spreads on Win’s lips. The taller boy lets go of his hand, clearly embarrassed, successfully bringing a grin to Sound’s face.
Then, it’s time.
The first set is theirs, and they get it relatively smoothly. Their opponents weren’t too much of a challenge, and Win would even go as far as say that they were sort of intimidated by him and Sound.
Speaking of whom, his doubles partner is seemingly in his usual, good form today. With that firm yet gentle bounce to his footwork, as well as those finishing strokes he uses to score the points. It’s the Saran he knows from the countless youtube videos and matches shown on the TV. The Saran he has always admired.
Until he came to their school and destroyed all of his internet facades. Until Win has grown to detest him.
But that feeling of resentment is long gone now. But this still isn’t the Saran he has idolised for who knows how much time. Now, it’s Sound who is a teenager just like him and their teammates. He’s a normal person with flaws, a normal person who can screw up and not be perfect all of the time. And perhaps that’s another reason why Win wants to know him more.
Unfortunately, them leading on the scoreboard doesn’t last for long after that, as their opponents manage to take the next set. It was a close call, but…
Win looks at the score table of their currently ongoing, third and last set. 29:29. He tries not to think about it, but it is a fact that the pair that scores the next point will also get the victory.
He quickly shakes his head and wipes his sweaty palms on his shorts, afterwards firmly grabbing his racket and letting his eyes slip shut for a second or two to calm down a bit before he serves.
Deciding he’s fine, Win finally starts the game by sending the shuttle to the other side of the net. Their opponents return it without much effort, and the rallying begins. The shuttlecock is now flying back and forth, waiting for one of them to slip and fail.
Eventually, as it is going to their side of the court again, Sound smoothly scoots over to allow it to reach Win. He probably figured that it would’ve hit the net had he returned it himself, so he put trust in him to take care of it. Win can feel Sound’s eyes on himself as he runs for it.
He outstretches his hand that holds the racket, he swings it.
He misses the shuttle.
They… lost.
Shuttle Wave is over for Chinzhillas, all because of him-
“Out!” the judge shouts. “Set and match for Pawin and Saran from Chinzhilla!”
What?
Sound’s face breaks out into a grin, and he approaches Win, extending his hand for a handshake. “We won,” he says, smiling full and wide. “We did it, Win, we-” he stops when the taller boy refuses to take his hand, and his expression instantly falls down.
Before he gets the chance to question it, he’s pulled into a tight embrace. His already fast from the physical effort heartbeat only picks up on speed, hammering hard against his own chest and now also Win’s.
Only when Win buries his face in his shoulder does Sound realise he isn’t hugging him back yet. He quickly raises his arms and wraps them around the black-haired boy to fix that. He then also lets himself close his eyes, ignoring how uncomfortably sweaty he feels for a brief while.
Suddenly, all of the crowd’s cheers are silent to him. It’s only them and their hug now, nothing more, nothing less.
“How’s your wrist?” is the first thing Win asks once they are alone in the locker room after the awards are given out. He walks up to take Sound’s hand into his own, thoroughly scanning it for any redness.
“Aw, are you worried about me?” the shorter out of the two of them coos teasingly. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m right as rain. Those pretty gold medals are the best proof, are they not?” he questions, pressing the metal against his lips with a smile.
But just as Sound is about to let go of it, Win raises his hand to hold it still in between their faces. It feels as if the time stops for a while there. One of them wonders whether his loud, rampaging heartbeat can be heard by the other.
Then, the taller boy leans in. The manner is firm yet hesitant, but the desired action is successful in the end.
Their lips touch the cold medal, and the sensation is definitely a pleasant opposite to the hotness they feel in their faces
It lasts for quite some time. Might be a few seconds, might be a minute. They pull away nervously regardless, one of them high on the awareness that this is real, the other sprinkled wholly with a beautiful blush.
The shorter of them grins. Fully and widely as he takes his hand away from the medal.
“What was that? Are we filming an MV for Tilly Birds’ song?” he teases with a laugh. “Put that thing aside and kiss me properly, idiot,” Sound says, his gaze challenging.
Win complies and does exactly that.