Chapter 123 Chapter 123

Chapter 123 Chapter 123
The celebration that had filled the arena only moments ago had vanished completely, replaced by a silence so heavy it settled over every person in the building.

Coach Bennett was the first to regain himself.

His eyes swept across the arena before returning to Mike.

Then he looked at the staff.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he called, his voice calm but carrying easily through the stunned arena. "Thank you for supporting Western Helms today."

Every head turned toward him.

"I know all of us have questions."

He paused, glancing briefly at Mike.

"But this is one of our students."

"Right now, he doesn't need an audience."

"He needs help."

The firmness in his voice left no room for argument.

He turned to one of the event coordinators.

"Please begin dismissing the spectators."

The coordinator nodded immediately. Within moments, announcements echoed through the speakers.

Students slowly began making their way toward the exits, though many looked back repeatedly.

Parents whispered among themselves.

The band quietly packed away their instruments.

Even the photographers lowered their cameras, understanding that this moment no longer belonged to the tournament.

It belonged to Mike.

I watched as the arena gradually emptied.

The noise faded little by little until only the Western Helms players, the coaching staff, the school nurse, Mrs. Brooks, Sofia, Mr. Harris and a handful of school officials remained.

Coach Bennett looked at Ryder.

"Help me."

Without hesitation, Ryder slipped one of Mike's arms over his shoulder.

Blake took the other side.

"Easy," Blake murmured.

"We've got you."

Mike tried to protest.

"I can walk."

The words barely escaped him before his legs threatened to buckle again.

Coach Bennett raised an eyebrow.

"No."

There wasn't an ounce of anger in his voice only quiet authority.

"Today you don't get to be stubborn."

A weak, tired smile flickered across Mike's face.

"Yes, Coach."

Together, they slowly guided him down the hallway toward the locker room.

I followed a few steps behind with Sofia.

No one joked or spoke above a whisper.

Even the usually noisy freshmen walked quietly, their eyes never leaving Mike.

When we reached the locker room, Coach Bennett pushed the door open.

The familiar room suddenly felt completely different.

Only an hour ago it had echoed with victory.

Now it carried concern.

"Sit him down."

Ryder and Blake carefully lowered Mike onto one of the wooden benches.

The moment he sat, his shoulders sagged as though every ounce of strength he'd been holding onto had finally disappeared.

Coach Bennett crouched in front of him.

"When was the last time you ate?"

Mike stared at the floor.

"I..."

He frowned as though genuinely trying to remember.

"...I don't know."

Coach Bennett looked toward the nurse.
She was already kneeling beside Mike, opening her medical bag.
"I'm just going to examine you."
Mike instinctively leaned away.
"No hospitals."
His breathing became uneven.
"Please..."
Coach Bennett immediately rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"Look at me."
Mike slowly lifted his head.
"No one's forcing you to go anywhere."
His tone softened.
"But you're letting her check you over."
Mike hesitated then nodded.
"...Okay."
The nurse smiled kindly.
"Thank you."
She began cleaning the cut across his knuckles before checking the bruise on his jaw, his pulse, his breathing and the small cuts scattered across his hands.
Every few moments she frowned slightly before writing something on her clipboard.
Meanwhile, one of the assistant coaches hurried back from the hospitality room carrying bottles of water, sandwiches, fruit and protein bars.
Coach Bennett accepted them.
He unscrewed a bottle of water before placing it into Mike's trembling hands.
"Drink."
Mike looked at it.
"I'm not really—"
"Mike."
Coach Bennett's voice remained calm.
"This isn't a suggestion."
A few players exchanged tiny smiles. It sounded exactly like Coach. Mike gave a tired nod.
"...Okay."
He took a careful sip then another. He coughed slightly.
The nurse waited patiently until his breathing settled.
"Slowly," she encouraged.
"There's no rush."
Coach Bennett unwrapped a sandwich and placed it gently into Mike's hands.
"Eat."
Mike looked embarrassed.
"I'm not hungry."
Before Coach Bennett could answer, Ryder spoke quietly from beside him.
"You don't have to be."
Everyone turned toward him.
"You still need to eat."
Mike slowly looked up. Their eyes met. The pain between them was still there.
Neither pretended otherwise.
But today...
It wasn't bigger than Mike's condition. Mike lowered his gaze again.
"...Okay."
He took the smallest bite imaginable. No one hurried him or pressured him.
They simply waited. One bite became two.
Then three.
The silence in the room somehow became even more emotional.
One of the freshmen quietly walked over carrying a clean hoodie.
"You can have this."
Mike blinked in surprise.
"I'll wash it and bring it back."
The freshman shook his head quickly.
"Keep it, It's okay."
Another player disappeared into the equipment room before returning with a dry pair of trainers.
"They're a little big..."
He smiled awkwardly.
"...but they're better than soaked shoes."
Mike looked down at them.
"...Thank you."
His voice cracked again.
Before anyone could say anything else...
No one noticed Mr. Harris move.
He hadn't spoken since entering the locker room.
He had simply stood near the doorway watching.
His weathered hands hung stiffly at his sides.
His eyes never left Mike.
For months...
He had walked past Mike's empty locker every morning.
He had kept his equipment in order.
He had refused to let anyone treat Mike's space like it belonged to the past.
Somewhere in his heart...
He had never stopped believing this day would come.
Slowly...
He took one step forward, then another.
Mike sensed him before he reached him. He slowly raised his head.
The moment their eyes met...
Everything else in the room seemed to disappear.
"...Mr. Harris..."
His voice was barely a whisper. The older man's lips trembled into a smile.
Not the cheerful smile every player knew.
This one shook beneath the weight of months spent hoping.
"There you are..."
His voice cracked.
He cleared his throat, blinking rapidly.
"There you are, son."
The words broke something inside Mike. His chin quivered violently.
"I..."
His shoulders shook.
"I'm sorry..."
"I'm so sorry..."
Mr. Harris closed the remaining distance between them without another word.
He didn't care about the dirt or torn clothes.
He simply wrapped both arms around Mike.
Firmly and protectively.
Like a father who had finally been given back a child he thought he'd lost.
Mike completely broke.
A sob escaped before he could stop it.
Then another.
His shaking hands clutched desperately at the back of Mr. Harris's jacket.
"I tried..."
His words dissolved beneath tears.
"I really tried..."
"I know."
Mr. Harris gently rested one hand against the back of Mike's head, smoothing his messy hair.
"I know, son."
His own voice had thickened with emotion.
"You don't have to carry everything right now."
Mike cried harder.
"I'm sorry I worried everyone."
"You did."
Mr. Harris smiled sadly through eyes filled with tears.
"You frightened us."
His hand squeezed Mike's shoulder.
"But you're here."
He leaned back just enough to look at him properly.
"And that's enough for today."
The locker room had fallen completely silent.
One of the freshmen quietly wiped his eyes.
Another stared at the floor, blinking hard.
Even Blake turned away for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck as he swallowed.
Ryder stood perfectly still.
The hurt Mike had caused hadn't disappeared.
The unanswered questions were still waiting.
But watching Mr. Harris hold Mike with such genuine love reminded him that before the scandal...
Mike had been one of them.
Coach Bennett remained where he was.
He didn't interrupt.
Sometimes leadership wasn't about speaking first.
Sometimes it was about knowing when someone else needed the moment more.
Only after several long moments did Mr. Harris slowly loosen the embrace.
He cupped Mike's face gently.
"Oh, son..."
His voice was barely audible.
"You've lost so much weight."
Mike managed the faintest laugh through his tears.
"I guess..."
"...I haven't been eating properly."
"I can see that."
Mr. Harris's familiar fatherly firmness returned.
He smiled gently.
"Then you're not saying another word until you've finished eating."
Mike opened his mouth.
"No..."
Mr. Harris interrupted softly.
"For months I've wished for one chance to fuss over you again."
A tear escaped despite his smile.
"You're not taking that chance away from me."
For the first time since walking back into Western Helms...
A genuine smile appeared on Mike's face.
Small and weak but real.
"...Yes, Mr. Harris."
"That's better."
He squeezed Mike's shoulder affectionately before stepping aside.
I quietly knelt beside Mike with the nurse.
"You've still got dried blood on your hand."
He looked down.
"I didn't even notice."
The nurse handed me a fresh antiseptic wipe and a clean bandage. I looked at Mike.
"May I?"
He hesitated only briefly before nodding.
Carefully, I cleaned the scrape across his knuckles.
He flinched.
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay."
His voice was quiet.
"It probably hurts less than I deserve."
My hand stopped. I looked up at him.
"We're not doing that today."
He frowned.
"What do you mean?"
I gently wrapped the bandage around his hand.
"Today..."
I tied the final knot.
"...we're making sure you're okay."
I met his eyes.
"The rest..."
I smiled softly.
"...can wait."
Around the room, nobody disagreed. Not even Ryder.
Coach Bennett finally pulled a chair over and sat opposite Mike.
"Good."
His voice remained calm.
"You've had water."
"You've eaten."
"The nurse has treated what she can for now."
He folded his hands together.
"When you're ready..."
His eyes held no judgment only patience.
"...tell us what happened."
The locker room fell silent once more.
Every player. Every coach. Every heartbeat.
Waited.
Mike drew in one slow, shaky breath.
Closed his eyes.
Then opened them again.
This time...
He was finally ready to begin.