Chapter 121 Chapter 121

Chapter 121 Chapter 121
The celebration refused to end. If anything, it only grew louder.

Students crowded against the glass, chanting Western Helms' name until the entire arena seemed to vibrate beneath our feet. The band played the school anthem for what felt like the third time, and every few seconds another wave of applause rolled through the stands as the players completed their victory lap, raising their sticks toward the supporters who had stood by them through every setback of the season.

I lowered my notebook for the first time since the opening faceoff.

My wrist ached and my fingers were stained with ink.

I didn't care.

Some moments deserved to be lived instead of written.

Ryder skated toward the student section, lifting his stick in appreciation.

The response was immediate.

"Captain! Captain! Captain!"

He laughed, shaking his head before pointing toward his teammates instead.

The chant changed almost instantly.

"Western! Helms!"

"Western! Helms!"

I smiled to myself.

Even now...

He was making sure the victory belonged to everyone.

Coach Bennett stood a few feet away, speaking quietly with the assistant coaches. One by one, players drifted over to him.

The freshman who had scored his first Regional Tournament goal reached him first.

He looked as though he didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Coach placed both hands on the boy's shoulders.

"You remember what I told you before the game?"

The freshman nodded eagerly.

"You said to trust my training."

Coach smiled.

"And?"

A watery laugh escaped the boy.

"It worked."

Coach chuckled before pulling him into a brief hug.

"It did."

The surrounding players cheered loudly, several of them teasing the freshman until he hid his face behind his gloves, laughing despite his embarrassment.

Blake wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"You owe Captain dinner."

The freshman looked confused.

"What?"

"If Ryder hadn't passed instead of shooting..."

Blake grinned.

"...you wouldn't have that goal."

The players burst into laughter.

Ryder skated over just in time to hear the last part.

"I don't remember agreeing to free food."

"You didn't."

Blake shrugged dramatically.

"But you're getting it."

Even Coach laughed.

It wasn't loud. Just one genuine laugh.

The kind that escaped before you could stop it.

Watching them...

It was difficult to believe this was the same team that had left the ice devastated last season.

They stood differently now, Laughed differently and trusted one another differently.

My heart felt strangely full.

Mrs. Brooks stepped beside me.

"So?"

I looked at her.

"So?"

She folded her arms.

"What's your headline?"

I laughed.

"You really want to know?"

"I'm curious."

I looked back toward the ice.

Hundreds of possible headlines floated through my mind.

"Western Helms Advances to the Semifinals."

Too ordinary.

"Captain Leads Team to Victory."

Too predictable.

Then my eyes settled on Coach Bennett standing beside Ryder.

One coach.

One captain.

Months of misunderstanding finally behind them.

I smiled.

"I think I've got it."

Mrs. Brooks waited.

"'Second Chances Wear Blue.'"

She looked at me for several seconds.

Then a slow smile spread across her face.

"I'd read that article."

Warmth spread through my chest.

Coming from her...?

That meant everything. I looked back toward the ice.

The official photographer had begun arranging the players for a team picture.

"Defense in the back!"

"Taller players!"

"Captain, centre!"

The boys complained playfully as they shuffled into position.

Someone shoved Blake. He shoved them back.

The freshman accidentally stood in the wrong place.

Ryder gently pulled him into the front row.

The camera flashed.

Then again.

Laughter echoed throughout the arena.

I lifted my own camera.

Click.

Another memory frozen forever.

As I lowered it...

Something caught my eye.

Near the main entrance, just beyond the glass doors. Someone was standing there.

At first, I assumed it was a parent who had arrived late.

But...

They weren't moving. They simply stood there watching.

A strange feeling settled over me.

I frowned.

The person wore a dark hoodie pulled low over their head.

Their clothes looked wrinkled.

Almost as though they had been worn for days.

One sleeve was torn near the elbow.

Their trainers were stained with dried mud.

Even from where I stood, I could tell they were painfully thin.

For a moment, I couldn't see their face clearly.

People kept walking between us.

Parents.

Students.

Volunteers.

Each time the crowd shifted, I caught another glimpse.

The figure remained exactly where they were.

Watching the celebration, Western Helms and watching...Us.

Without knowing why, I found myself taking a slow step toward the exit.

Then another.

Something about them felt...

Familiar.

My heartbeat quickened.

No.

That couldn't be right.

I squinted, trying to see through the moving crowd.

The hood slipped back slightly.

Dark hair.

A face far paler than I remembered. Cheekbones more pronounced. Eyes sunken with exhaustion.

My breath caught.

The notebook slipped from my fingers and landed on the floor with a dull slap.

No...

It couldn't be. I blinked hard.

The figure slowly lifted their head and Our eyes met.

Everything around me disappeared.

The music. The cheers. The laughter.

All of it faded into silence.

His lips parted slightly, as though he wanted to speak.

But no words came.

Only a tired, fragile smile. One I hadn't seen in months. One I never thought I'd see again.

"…Mike?"

The name escaped my lips as little more than a whisper.

He swayed just slightly.

Like someone whose body had carried more than it could bear.

I took another step. This time, Sofia noticed.

"Aria?"

I didn't answer. My eyes never left him. Sofia followed my gaze toward the entrance.

Her smile vanished instantly. She grabbed my arm.

"...Aria..."

Her voice trembled.

"I..."

She couldn't finish the sentence.

The nearest players turned at the sound of her voice.

Blake frowned.

"What is it?"

Ryder looked from Sofia...

...to me...

...then toward the entrance.

His expression froze.

The colour drained from his face. Coach Bennett turned last.

His eyes followed everyone else's.

The arena, which moments before had been alive with celebration, began to quiet as more heads turned toward the doorway.

One conversation stopped.

Then another.

The photographer slowly lowered his camera.

The band faltered into silence. Even the announcer's voice faded.

One by one...

Every eye in the arena settled on the young man standing alone beneath the entrance lights.

Dirty.

Exhausted.

Unsteady.

Alive.

Mike looked across the ice at the teammates he had disappeared from...

...and with a voice so hoarse it barely carried through the sudden silence, he managed only four words.

"I'm...

...I'm sorry I'm late."