「 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐑𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐫 」𝘸. 𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘫𝘪𝘮𝘢

prologue | ☆

As the second year in middle school came around, I was getting ready to apply for high schools, and of course, I wanted to have the best education offered in the Tōhoku region. I studied vigorously, day in and day out, regularly visiting the library and asking my upperclassmen for help. Everything was in order to get into the infamous Shiratorizawa Academy, located at the bustling capital in Sendai of Miyagi Prefecture. Sure, applying for a sports scholarship for badminton would have secured me a spot at the prestigious private school. However, I didn't want to rely only on a badminton scholarship. After two years of painstaking studying, sleepless nights, and shuffling through an avalanche of paperwork required for applying for a sports scholarship at Shiratorizawa, I finally received the long-awaited letter of acceptance in the mail.

- - -

I enter the vast school campus, ready to get a uniform tailored to my size. Walking with friends and discussing what lies ahead in the next few years, we find the way to the nurse's office where they're taking measurements. The school's private tailor asks for me to stand upon a stool, to raise my arms like the monumental statue of Christ the Redeemer in the city of Rio de Janeiro. After everything is calculated, I walk back home, dropping off my friends at their houses along the way. In a couple of days, I will officially be a first-year at Shiratorizawa Academy, my ultimate dream high school. I catch myself smiling like a fool.

A few days later, I walk to the Iwanuma City General Gymnasium and Athletic Field with my mixed doubles partner.

"I'm glad we both got into Shiratorizawa," Riku smiled.

"I am too," I turn to face him. We both walk into the vast building and a blast of cool air spills out from the automated doors. We enter the badminton courts and see our other friends stretching halfway across the gym, one of them waving.

"Hey guys," Taiga smiled as I put my bags down.

"Let's play a doubles game when you're done stretching," Rinoa suggested.

Riku and I stretched on the cold and polished gym floor, doing 20 seconds of each stretch. Once done, I grabbed my Yonex Astrox 88S racket and did warm-up drills with my friends. After about 10 more minutes, I felt ready.

"Let's see whose serving," Rinoa took a birdie and hit it straight into the air. It landed on the ground, spinning a few times, and pointed to her team.

"Yeah, let's go!" Taiga exclaimed as he pumped his fist into the air, and I see Riku groan next to me. I clicked my tongue as we stood in ready position on the 6.1 by the 5.18-meter court, waiting for the birdie to reach us.

Although it was just a practice game, we treated it as if it were a real one. Riku and I were already on the second set and tied with Rinoa and Taiga, 19 – 19. Whoever got to 21 first, wins. We won the first set, and all we have to do is be successful in one more to win the match. It's my turn to serve, and I feel the pressure build. It's like my brain is pumping against my skull, making me more alert, everything outside the court falls away and puts us in center court. I hold my racket in my dominant left hand and the birdie with my right hand in front of my racket. With one swift motion in the wrist, I made the birdie soar right above the net, landing perfectly in front of Rinoa's feet where she's unable to hit it back. I clench my hand and take a deep breath. Every point is a mini-win, where all mini-wins are the ultimate wins.

"Just one more y.n., we got this," Riku encourages me. As my teammate and I rotate, I raise the birdie in the air, signaling the match point for my team. I take a deep breath and get into a serving position, staring intently at where I want the birdie to land.  I sent it flying right over Rinoa's head. She's unable to hit it, and I see the birdie land in the court.