Chapter 4 - Shattered Rackets, Tangled Hearts

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Chapter 4 – Shattered Rackets, Tangled Hearts

The badminton court buzzed with noise—the rhythm of sneakers squeaking against the polished wood, the whirr of shuttlecocks slicing through air, and the occasional barked instruction from Coach Rana. Sunlight filtered through the high windows of the school gym, glinting off the dust particles that hung in the air like floating stars.

Liya tied her ponytail tighter, her fingers trembling slightly, though she’d never admit it. Not from fear—no, never that. It was the presence of him.

Zane.

The boy who played like a machine. Cool, calculative, cold. His smashes didn’t just aim to win—they stung, like they were meant to prove a point. To make you feel something.

Too bad Liya never flinched.

She wasn’t like the others, who whispered about him in fear or awe—she stood her ground. Maybe that’s why he noticed her at all.

She’d always felt his gaze, sharp like arrows, even when he pretended she didn’t exist.

“Pair up. Mixed doubles. Zane, Liya—you’re up,” Coach barked.

Liya’s heart skipped a beat.

Seriously? Him?

She glanced at Zane, who met her eyes for a brief second before looking away with a scoff. “Try not to slow me down.”

“I’ll try not to overshadow you,” she replied sweetly, masking steel beneath sugar.

He raised a brow. For a split second, she caught the flicker of a smirk playing on his lips.

Game on.

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They didn’t talk much as they practiced—didn’t need to. Liya covered the front court, agile and precise. Zane patrolled the back, a wall of power and intimidation. The coordination shouldn’t have worked, but somehow, it did.

Until it didn’t.

A sharp smash came from the opposing team, and Liya moved to intercept. She jumped—Zane did too. Their rackets clashed midair. The shuttlecock spun sideways, landing out of bounds.

They stumbled apart, the silence around them growing awkwardly loud.

Zane turned sharply, walking off to grab a new shuttle without a word.

Liya bit her lip. Something about the way his jaw clenched, about how he didn’t meet her gaze, bothered her.

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That Evening

Liya sat in the bleachers alone, waiting for the rain to ease. Everyone else had gone. She liked the sound of rain—it was one of the few things that made her feel... peaceful.

Footsteps echoed.

Zane.

Of course.

He looked like he’d been thinking hard. His usual cold mask was slightly... off. His eyes, a rare shade of grey, seemed stormy today.

“You stayed,” he said flatly.

“You noticed,” she replied, not bothering to hide the sarcasm.

Silence.

Then, Zane looked at her, and the chill in his expression shifted. Not warm—but less guarded.

“You jumped in too early today. You always do that.”

Liya narrowed her eyes. “So do you. You just think you're always right.”

“Because I usually am.”

“And you’re full of yourself.”

“You have no idea.”

The sarcasm made her snort, and for the first time, she saw him laugh—quiet, soft, like the sound slipped out without permission.

It was disarming.

She tilted her head. “Why do you always act like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like you don’t care. Like nothing affects you.”

Zane didn’t answer right away. His fingers tapped the edge of the metal bleacher absently.

“Because it’s easier.”

“Easier than what?”

“Than letting people expect something from you.”

His voice was low, almost a whisper, like he wasn’t used to saying these things aloud.

Liya stared at him, and for the first time, something shifted inside her. Not pity—something deeper. A connection.

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Backstory: Liya

Liya had grown up in a noisy, loving home filled with chaos, laughter, and responsibility. Her mother taught music at a nearby school; her father ran a local bookstore. She had two younger brothers, and being the eldest meant she often played the role of the dependable one.

She wasn’t scared of much—because she’d had to be brave since childhood.

She fell in love with badminton not just for the game, but because it was hers. Her moment of peace, of rhythm, of identity.

The game gave her purpose.

She remembered being 10 when she first played against a boy with sharp eyes and a colder smile at a district kids’ tournament.

She lost.

That boy was Zane.

He didn’t remember her. But she remembered everything.

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Backstory: Zane

Zane’s world was quieter. He was raised in a house of silence. His father—military. Strict. Disapproving. His mother—gentle but sickly, a shadow in a corner.

He learned early that mistakes were punishable. Emotions were weaknesses. Perfection was the bare minimum.

Badminton became his escape. On the court, he wasn’t a disappointment. He was enough.

He remembered a girl—one who smiled fearlessly even after losing to him years ago. She’d said, “I’ll beat you next time.”

He didn’t forget her. He just buried the memory.

Now, she was here. Bold, bright, impossible to ignore.

Liya.

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Later That Week

The annual interschool badminton championship was announced. Tryouts would determine the final mixed pair. It was obvious Zane and Liya were the strongest contenders.

But only one pair would be chosen.

Liya stood before the board, reading the notice. Zane came up beside her, close enough that their shoulders brushed.

“I’ll win,” he said, voice smooth.

She smiled. “Then try not to lose.”

He stared at her for a moment. “What happens if we’re on opposite sides?”

Liya met his gaze. “Then I won’t go easy on you.”

For the first time, Zane didn’t reply with coldness. Just a whisper of a smile. Almost proud.

As if finally, someone saw through his armor and didn’t run.

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Friday: The Twist

Liya was practicing late again. The court was mostly empty. Just her and a few shuttlecocks.

She didn’t hear the door until it slammed open.

Zane stood there, face pale, hands clenched.

“What happened?” she asked, heart jumping.

He didn’t reply.

Just walked over and handed her a paper.

Her name.

Scratched out.

She blinked, confused. “What is this?”

“The new pair list. You're out.”

“What? Why?”

“They said... you missed the physical round. You didn’t report your attendance.”

“I was there! I signed—”

“They said the sheet’s missing.”

Liya stared at him. “Someone removed it.”

He didn’t speak.

Her heart raced. “Do you think I cheated?”

Zane looked straight at her. “No.”

Just one word. Solid. Certain.

It steadied her.

“But someone doesn’t want you on the team,” he added.

Liya clenched her jaw. “And you? What are you going to do?”

Zane looked conflicted. His father was on the school sports board. He knew this had something to do with him. With pressure.

He swallowed hard. “I'm going to fix it.”

Liya stared at him, eyes wide.

“And if you can’t?” she whispered.

Zane hesitated. Then, in a quiet voice: “Then I won’t play either.”

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The chapter ends on the edge of a storm. Secrets are swirling beneath the surface. Trust is being tested. And somewhere between shared glances and broken routines, strings of fate are beginning to weave a bond too deep to undo.

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End of Chapter 4

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