Echoing Thoughts
Author's Notes
Wrote this from a character's 2nd-pov because I didn't know what name to give him HAHAHA But hehe,,, new oc because I was stumped with all my other ocs :( These two have been in my head for a few months though, so I'm glad I can finally give them something concrete ehehe!!
Though they are my gae sport ocs, these two are purely platonic besties! It's sort of a prologue for their story! (It's something that would've been released as a bonus chapter in the middle of the series type of thing www)
“Hey, could you throw that back over here?”
You blink, raising your eyes from the words on the page to the figure jogging towards you. ‘That’? It was then that you realized a ball was rolling your way.
Your eyes chased the ball, but you didn’t bother getting up from the bench you were seated on. Not yet, at least. You could feel the other boy’s gaze on you as you both waited for the ball to come to a stop. Only when the ball bumped against your shoe did you bother to get up and grab it.
You threw it back wordlessly, with only the sound of the ball smacking into the boy’s palms disturbing the quiet atmosphere around you two.
“Thanks!”
You nod at him before settling back down on the bench and picking up the chapter book once more. You thought that was the end of the interaction, but it appears the boy had other plans. Instead of the footsteps fading away, it grew louder– closer. Until you could feel the summer heat radiating off the other boy’s body. You frown, annoyed that he kept bothering you.
What does he want?
As if the boy heard your thoughts, he answered out loud.
“That was a good pass! Do you want to play with me?” He proudly holds up the ball that is bigger than the size of his head with a grin plastered on his face. A grin that had a gap where a tooth should be.
You are seven and petty as can be; you simply ignored his presence.
The boy did not get the message apparently, as he plops down on the bench next to you and starts rambling on.
“I don’t see many kids my age at this park, so I don’t really have anyone to play basketball with. But it’s the park that’s closest to home, so I’m only allowed to come to this one. Most of the kids in the soccer club go to the one next to the school ‘cause it’s bigger.” The boy pouts as he hugs the ball in his lap. (You frown. How unhygienic.)
You hope he’ll go away if you don’t respond, so you stick your nose further into the book you bought with you. It was about a clan of wild cats trying to survive in their forest homes; it was far more interesting than the boy’s rambles.
“What’s your name? I haven’t seen you before, did you just move here?”
Despite your intentions to ignore him, you realize your plan was failing when you reread the same line. Thrice. You try to smooth out the edge of the page that you unconsciously started to wrinkle.
You contemplated leaving, but it felt too much like you were losing, so you stubbornly sat there and stubbornly refused to answer his questions.
“Oh, I guess it’s rude to ask you for your name but not give mine! It’s Si Feng! Gao Si Feng!”
“Did I ask?”
He blinked. You also blinked. You didn’t mean to blurt that out. You were planning to stay quiet until he grew tired of bothering you, but now you know that won’t happen, not with how he beamed at you despite the snarky response.
Though it seems like it took a moment for your words to actually register, because the boy’s brows furrowed a second too late.
Good. You counted that as a small victory.
“Wait a minute, why haven’t you been responding this whole time?”
“I don’t care for sports.” Or for making friends with noisy brats.
“What?! Have you played basketball before? It’s so awesome!” Affronted, he jumps off the bench and frowns at you.
“What’s so awesome about throwing a ball into a hoop?”
“The feeling you get when it goes in, duh! I don’t know what to call it, but it’s just so cool! It makes me feel so... so powerful!”
“And when the ball doesn’t get in?”
“It just makes it all the more special and cool when it does go in then!”
What kind of logic is that…
“C’mon! I’ll show you!”
“Wha- hey, let go!”
Before he knew it, the boy’s grubby fingers latched onto your arm and pulled you from the bench and towards the outside court.
“It’ll be a feeling you’ve never had before! I’m sure of it!”
Five seconds left on the clock.
The score was close, with your team just a single point behind.
Sneakers squeaked against the hardwood floor, echoing throughout the gymnasium.
Legs trembled, going numb.
Bangs damp against your forehead.
A heart beating so fast, threatening to spill out of your ribcage.
But still.
But still, your eyes are bright and alert.
You make eye contact with your teammate, your best friend, your partner, the one who’s been by your side for the past seven years.
Pass it to me.
You don’t even have to say it out loud, you know he understood.
He dribbles and swerves past one opponent, slips the ball between the legs of another, and finally– there is a clear path from him to you.
He passes the ball to you. And you catch it, just like you always do.
Suddenly, you are back at the park where you two first met, and instead of the official jerseys you don now, you are both in your casual sweats and passing the ball back and forth as you run to the hoop.
You shift your gaze to the hoop and shoot the ball. Just like you’ve done countless times.
And just like those countless times, the ball goes in.
The timer buzzes.
You immediately turn to face him, and you see the biggest grin on his face as he jogs up to you.
Instead of staying put this time, you run up to him, meeting him halfway. And then you pull him in for the most uncharacteristic hug you’ve ever initiated.
When your other teammates tease you about this later on, you feign innocence and question their eyesight.
But in this moment, you truly couldn’t help yourself.
The feeling he promised you that you would feel, you have definitely felt it before.
There was a spark of it that day when you two first met, when he forced you to stay at the court for what felt like hours until you managed to score your first basket. Your skin felt sticky from the sweat and your ears suffered from his incessant chattering (though deep down you begrudgingly agree that he was giving good tips), but when that ball fell through the hoop, all of that felt as insignificant as an ant. Of course you didn’t tell him that because that would be admitting that he was right, but it did feel good.
That spark eventually evolved into a match when you joined his basketball youth club, then a candle flame when you got into the club in junior high, and then into a ball of flames when you made it to the finals.
But you have never felt the feeling this strongly, never this intensely.
It was like a firework burst inside of you.
A buzzer beater.
You managed to pull off a buzzer beater. During the finals.
You won your team the junior high nationals because of that buzzer beater.
You– you and him, and the others, you are winners.
Champions.
You lean your forehead on his shoulder, both of you still trying to catch your breath after such an intense match. Your hands grip the back of his jersey so tight that your knuckles turned white.
“...I think I get the appeal of basketball.”
He snorts in response, smacking you on the back rather harshly. “After all these years of playing? …Well, better late than never, I guess.”
Although neither of you could see the other’s expression, you were sure you knew how he looked at that moment and that he knew how you did.
Thank you.
Of course.
You were both scouted by the same prestigious sports high school, so choosing your next stage was pretty straightforward.
Despite helping your team win in your second year of junior high and getting to the semifinals in your senior year, you both started your freshman year of high school on the bench. It was annoying, but you had to admit that your upperclassmen were skilled players. You learned a lot from observing them on the bench.
In your second year, both of you became starters because of your hard work and the skills you picked up from your upperclassmen.
The team continued its winning streak and before you knew it, tomorrow was the semifinals.
Despite the coach’s order for the team to rest the night before, you and Si Feng met at the park near your homes to play a bit. Though with you two, a “bit” always ends up with you both sprawled out on the floor and somewhat exhausted.
“...How do you think tomorrow’s game will go?” He asked as you both tried to catch your breath.
“Victory for us, of course.”
“Hah! Where do you get this confidence from? Your buzzer beater from three years ago?”
You narrow your eyes and jab him in the side for making fun of the highlight of your basketball career. It made him let out a hiss, which made you smirk.
You turned to face him, and he turned too.
“Then do you think we’ll lose?”
“...! Of course not.”
You could tell by his eyes that he meant it. You nodded and reached your fist out. He flashes you a boyish grin (no missing tooth this time) and bumps your fist with his.
You weren't lying when you said you'd win. With him, you feel invincible.
One minute left on the clock.
The score gap was noticeable, with your team in the lead with a five-point difference.
Sneakers squeaked against the hardwood floor, echoing throughout the gymnasium.
Legs trembled, going numb.
Bangs damp against your forehead.
A heart beating so fast, threatening to spill out of your ribcage.
You knew better than to let your guard down despite the large difference, so you ran even when your lungs felt like they were on fire. A small price to pay to win the nationals again.
You run through all the possibilities that could lead to another point, taking into consideration the position of your teammates and your opponents, taking into consideration their leftover stamina and their future moves as well.
You were always a calculative guy, so it didn’t take long for you to map out a plan with the highest chance of success. You glance behind and see Si Feng not too far behind, looking at you. You couldn’t help but smile as you turned and kept running forward.
Gao Si Feng may not have your exceptional talent for strategic improvisations, but he had something stronger– better, than that.
He had faith.
Faith in your abilities, in your capability, to score when you see a path.
His faith did not stem from blind hope. It was the product of years and years of playing with, and against, you. It was the product of years and years of observing you at play, analyzing all your movements, and trying to understand your perspective. It was the product of learning you, even more so than your parents and siblings.
Looking at you with piercing clear eyes, his message was loud and clear.
If it’s you, I know you’ll find a way. So use me to win.
And if you couldn’t live up to that sheer trust he had in you, then could you really call yourself human?
Your eyes shift from player to player within the three-point line as you infiltrate the semicircle. You glance behind you, and just like you thought, Si Feng has gotten a hold of the ball.
Your eyes meet his, and it feels like a thousand words were exchanged in that one glance. And it probably was, if it was Gao Si Feng and you.
He nods in response, and you both continue to run to the hoop.
You dodge a guard just in time for Si Feng to pass the ball to you. The force of that pass made your hands sting, but that didn’t deter you from shifting into a shooting position. Your opponents ran up to you, but you knew they were too late.
This angle. This speed. The position of your opponents.
It was perfect.
You shoot the ball. But not towards the hoop. Instead, it went into the waiting palms of the guy who’s been by your side for ten years. With ease, he receives the pass and jumps up, readying himself to shoot it. As if he found the right moment, he lets go swiftly.
You watch as the ball curves in the air, far out of reach from any of the defenders' outstretched hands, before smoothly falling into the basket. The score tracker buzzes, echoing throughout the gymnasium. You smile. Of course it would make it in. You never doubted it for a second.
And just like that, you’ve won the nationals yet again, with your best friend scoring a buzzer beater this time.
You would rather die than ever admit it to Gao Si Feng, but this basket has been your goal ever since you won the nationals in junior high. That indescribable emotion you felt that day should be something shared between the two of you, like everything else was. Besides, as your partner, he should at least have the same accomplishments as you, even if it took him three years to get to your level.
With that thought in mind, you turn to congratulate him, already imagining the awestruck expression on his face. Despite years of playing basketball, the feeling of a buzzer beater is second to none.
However, when you turn towards him, that was not the expression that greeted you.
Instead, Gao Si Feng was on the floor, hands clutching his knee with a tense expression and gritted teeth, as if trying to prevent himself from screaming.
Your heart drops as you feel an uncomfortable feeling appear in the pit of your stomach.
“Si Feng…?”
.
.
.
An ACL injury. Of all fucking things, it had to be that one.
Gao Si Feng truly was an unfortunate person. Not only did he bust his knee and had to get carried away on a stretcher on the day he won the nationals, but he also befriended and full-heartedly trusted the fucker who made him end up like this.
Your hands started to tremble again, so you grip the bench you were sitting on even tighter. You leaned your head back and stared up at the bleak white sky. You let out a breath and watched the foggy wisp disappear into the atmosphere.
It has been a week since that day, and you still haven’t visited Gao Si Feng.
It wasn’t like you didn’t try though. But every time you manage to make it in front of his hospital door, you can’t will yourself to turn the stupid knob. The guilt and fear cling to your legs and arms, freezing you. They clog up your lungs and make you unable to breathe.
You know you can’t run away forever. Sooner or later, you have to meet him, to admit your faults. To accept whatever he has in store for you after you took away his most precious treasure in life and left his body like this.
Every waking moment, he is what you think of. And in every dream, he is what appears. The final minute of that match echoes in your mind over and over. The regrets you have won’t go away. You should’ve waited a bit longer before passing it to him. You should’ve waited for everyone to run up to you so that no one would be near him. So that no one would knock into him on their way down, so that no one would have their stupid foot at the spot he was landing on. So that he wouldn’t be curled on the ground, clutching his knee when he should’ve been grinning at scoring a buzzer beater.
You should’ve just shot it yourself. You had the chance. The capability. It would have gone in as well. Instead, you chose to be stupid, to be sentimental.
Look what it cost him. Look what it cost you.
You shut your eyes and enjoy the darkness that envelopes you. You knew it wasn’t possible, but you wouldn’t mind living the rest of your life like this.
“Hey asshole, thanks for visiting me in the hospital.” While his words were gruff, they lacked any real heat in them.
Your eyes shoot open and immediately you see an upturned Gao Si Feng staring down at you.
You blinked.
“How are you here?”
He snorts and sits down beside you on the bench, placing his crutches to the side.
“I walked, duh. The surgery went well, and the doctor let me go home. I went to your house, but no one answered, so I thought you might be here.”
“Oh.”
“Mhm. ‘Oh’.”
Oh? What a stupid thing to say. But you couldn’t help it; you could feel the guilt clawing up your throat, forbidding you from speaking. But you knew you had to.
...Speak. Let it out. Let him hear what he has to, what he deserves to hear.
“I’m sorry.” It’s like you’re seven again and blurting out words without filtering.
With bated breath, you wait for what feels like forever for his response. In the meantime, you sneak a glance at him, but he isn’t looking back at you. He had his eyes on the horizon. You willed your eyes to follow his gaze and your heart to accept whatever he says.
“What are you sorry for?”
Why is he asking you that? Doesn’t he already know?
“...A lot of things.”
“Like?” He prompted, voice gaining a steely edge.
‘For being your friend,’ immediately came to mind, but you weren’t that out of it. Yet.
“...That last move. When I pass-” The punch you were waiting for this entire time finally came. You tasted iron in your mouth, probably from biting your tongue mid-speech. You look back at him, awaiting the second punch.
You could tell he was livid, with the way his stormy face could bring about thunder and lighting and his furrowed brows. His eyes burned fiercely, yet were still clear.
How could they still be so clear?
“Don’t you dare apologize for that.”
You blinked in response.
“Yeah you did something wrong, but that was not it.” He scowled, shaking his wrist as he sat back down on the bench.
What could be more unforgivable than causing the accident that made him unable to play basketball?
Ah, as you thought. Was it…
“...Do you regret becoming friends with me?”
He looks at you with such an outrageously incredulous expression that instantly mades you feel super embarrassed and regretful, as if having the words spoken out loud was all that was needed to dispel that fear. You felt so silly at this moment. How pathetic you must look in his eyes.
“...I was the one who had surgery recently, right? It wasn’t you? What do you keep spitting out bullshit…”
“...”
He sighed and leaned back against the bench, just like you did earlier. Your eyes follow the wispy white trail from his deep exhale.
“Hey… Do you really not know what I’m the most angry about?”
“...”
You do. At least, you think you do. But it was such a selfish and self-satisfying thought, that you don’t dare voice it out loud.
But. When he turns his gaze towards you, and you see those clear eyes, you find yourself wanting to answer what he wants to hear. What you want to say.
“...I’m sorry for not being there for you.” When you were in the hospital. When you were in serious pain. When you were lost and confused and devastated by the news of your knee. “When you needed me the most.”
You stared at his expression, capturing every minuscule movement. The way his brows smoothed out. The way his lips returned to a small, almost unnoticeable, smile. The way his face relaxed. The way his clear eyes took on a new shine.
“Hmm, should I accept your apology?”
Ah, that tone of voice... Gao Si Feng, you...
“...I’ll treat you to noodles. Ten times.”
“Just ten? Aren’t you being too stingy?”
“What do you suggest then?”
“Why don’t we just make it a year’s worth of supply?”
“Are you trying to put me and my descendants in debt?”
He barked out a laugh, and the sound of it extinguished the guilt that stubbornly clung to your being. You have never been so relieved to hear it.
Later on that day, after he redeems his very first free-noodle coupon, you walk him home. He tried to brush you off at first, but your persistence won him over.
Now, you stand in front of his gate, waiting for him to get in.
He glances back at you, before placing his hand on the doorknob. However, instead of walking in, he just stands there, facing the door.
“? Do you need h-”
“Hey, can you promise me that something like this won’t happen again?”
Oh.
“…Yes. I promise.”
“Okay. Good. Because,” he turns to look at you again, with a sheepish grin on his face.
“It’s bad enough that I lost basketball, I don’t want to lose my best friend too.”
“...!”
“So don’t ignore me like this again, okay asshole? You really did sc-” His words were cut off by an “Oof!” as you ran up to him and pulled him in for a hug.
“Yes, I promise. Sorry for the scare.”
“Jeez, give a man a warning first? Especially since I’m on crutches.” He scolds you, but he grips your back just as tightly as you grip his.
In your arms, he felt so small despite you both sharing similar figures. It made you wonder, how much weight could someone's back carry before it snaps? How much more could Gao Si Feng’s back take? It had to bear the brunt of a shattered dream, a cowardly best friend who ran away, an anguished family, and pitying teammates. How could his eyes still stay so clear after all that?
It was this day, in the dark with only the light of his porch lamp as a witness, that you made a vow to share his burdens so that Gao Si Feng would not have to go through anything alone, not anymore.
For as long as he is willing to call you his best friend, you will wear that title with pride and honor.