CHAPTER THREE: TOURNAMENT SPIRIT

The gym buzzed with excitement. Streamers swayed from the ceiling, team banners waved proudly in the crowd, and the sharp sound of shuttlecocks slicing through the air echoed across the court. It was the start of the regional badminton tournament—and although Xianne wasn’t part of the official lineup, her heart was more than present.

A month ago, when the final roster was posted and her name wasn’t on it, Xianne smiled anyway. It stung, yes—but not enough to erase the pride she felt when she saw Jasper’s name among those who made it. He worked hard. He deserved it. And she would be there, not with a racket in hand, but with full support in her heart.

“Let’s go! San Lorenzo Hawks, fight!” Xianne cheered at the top of her lungs, waving her handmade poster high in the air. It featured a cartoon version of Jasper, complete with his signature hoodie and a little shuttlecock flying by. Her best friend clapped beside her with matching painted cheeks.

Even from across the gym, Jasper noticed. He smiled—half amused, half grateful—and gave her a small salute with his racket. She grinned and mouthed, “You got this.”

The game began. Jasper’s movements were sharp and steady, a mix of strength and strategy. Xianne’s cheers grew louder with every point he scored. When he dove for a save or nailed a smash, she stood up from her seat, yelling, “Yes, Jasper! Let’s go!”

Her energy was contagious. The rest of the team’s supporters joined in. Some even waved small flags Xianne had printed the night before. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t on the court—she was still part of the team, and everyone could feel it.

During timeouts, Jasper would jog to the bench, panting but smiling. Xianne handed him water without a word, just a wink. He took a deep breath and said, “Thanks for being here.”

She just nodded. “Always.”

Throughout the day, Xianne became everyone’s sunshine. She wiped the sweat off teammates’ brows, tied someone’s shoelace, brought snacks, and snapped goofy photos of the team during breaks. Every laugh they shared, every “you got this” whispered before the next match—it all made her feel she hadn’t been left behind.

When San Lorenzo advanced to the semi-finals, the entire team huddled mid-court, screaming with joy. Without hesitation, Jasper reached for Xianne’s hand and pulled her into the circle.

“You’re part of this,” he said firmly, looking straight into her eyes.

And she believed him.

As the team jumped and chanted together, Xianne felt her eyes blur with happy tears. Maybe this tournament wasn’t about medals or rankings. Maybe it was about heart, friendship, and being seen—even when you weren’t holding the racket.

She looked around at her teammates, her friends, and at Jasper—laughing, tired, but proud.

And right then, she knew: she may not have won a match today, but she had never felt more victorious.

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