nevertheless || yuzuru hanyu

one - your head is the worst depiction of hell

"Can you hear me?" were the first words that she was welcomed with. She furrowed her eyebrows and continued to blink her eyes until she could slowly see her worried mother hovering over her.

When her vision looked less like an out of signal television, she avoided her mother's gaze and instead looked around the room. Slowly, her senses were being more active, she could hear everything one by one, and eventually, all together.

She could hear the beeping of the monitor beside her, she could her mother's breathing, she could hear her own heartbeat and even the smallest ringing that was somewhere deep in her mind.

Gabriella looked rather confused by her surroundings, so much that she tried to ask about what happened to her, but even so, there was no understandable word that came out as she opened her mouth. It was all broken sounds that didn't make sense to anyone but her.

"What are you saying, dear? Tell me one more time." Her mother said, still hovering above her, desperately waiting to hear what her daughter wanted to say.

So once more, Gabriella tried to speak. "What happened to me, mom?" She asked, a lone tear falling from the side of her eyes as she slightly panicked. But like the first time, the sounds she released were inaudible, she knew she was asking the right question, but she was in no position to have her question heard.

That was four months ago, but the experience still haunts her as if it was a work of yesterday.

It felt as if she was locked inside a brick wall, except she could see and hear everything, but couldn't react the way she wanted to. She couldn't ask audible questions, she could barely even move.

It's quite ironic, isn't it? Vividly seeing the things you want to forget.

But that was life, filled of ironies. There is nothing to do, but accept it.

And so life went on for Gabriella, but she never touched anything related to Badminton ever since she woke up four months ago.

She would occasionally walk to the nearest badminton centers to watch other people playing.

Though she claims that she didn't want to play anymore, it was obvious through the way she observed the game and the player's posture that she was still deeply interested in the sport.

Her reactions were always so different.

One day they walked in during a match between an eleven year old and a sixteen year old, and Gabriella was enjoying the game more than the parents of the girls who played.

Another time, they walked in when two men were playing the sport, she was very much interested by them, the way they moved, their rallies, their posture, their grip, just about anything that catches her eye, she was intrigued by. But then a tear would come by her eyes, and her cousin who usually comes to watch with her would witness her lone tear.

"Is something wrong?" Her cousin always asked, but every time she answered, "Of course not." then she'd chuckle and stand up from the benches to, 'walk outside and breathe some fresh-air.'

That was definitely a lie.

Just like romantic loving, there would things that would remind you of your lover. If it ended bitterly between the two of you, there would be the occasional sadness that visits when you see couples happily talking on the streets, or when you read a romantic novel or watch a drama about love. That was her love for Badminton. It was truly her first love. When she watches people have fun and focus so greatly on the sport, she remembers herself.

She misses it so much, she missed holding her racket, she missed serving, receiving. Just playing in general, she missed it all. And when people play, it's like a tape recorder repeatedly showing her all the happy and sad moments she shared with the sport.

However, there were also those lingering nightmares. Whenever you're reminded of the good things, its like the mind is immediately programmed to make you remember the bad things. It's almost as if it didn't want you to rest... or be happy.

So, though there were a lot of good memories, the bad ones came back as fast as the good ones came.

Even through attempts of washing away the traumatic feeling, it always stays, always lingering.

She had been asked by her coach to return a little more than once, but everytime she came up with an excuse to get away from any requests.

About that time, he'd give anything to get Gabriella back on the team because he felt that it was what she truly wanted. So, instead of trying to force her to join, he sent her to another country to maybe try and reconnect with the sport once again.

He sent her to Canada to officiate and coach in his training center located there. He was worried as it might hurt her more, but he's willing to take the risk for her. He truly believed that she just needed to clear her mind.

As for Gabriella, she agreed as it was the only way she could be close to doing what she loved, at least right now.