๐พ๐ Training Montage: Sweat and Sparks
The countdown to Regionals had officially begun.
Two weeks. Fourteen days of relentless, soul-squeezing, muscle-burning grind.
โ๏ธ Morning Madness โ Basketball
At six sharp, the Gubat-Iriga basketball squad hit the pavement like a small army. Shoes pounded the ground like war drums as the rising sun burned overhead.
"Lap ten or bust!" Coach Dan hollered, holding a thermos of mystery liquid that definitely wasn't just coffee.
Dane led the pack, slicing through the court with dizzying crossovers and surgical precision. Each drive looked easier. Each layup more precise. Karl and Marlon trailed behind, muttering complaints through gasps of breath.
"Is he even human?" Karl wheezed.
"Nope," Marlon croaked. "He's Alona-powered."
๐ธ Afternoon Fury โ Badminton
By three, the gym echoed with the sharp pop-pop of shuttlecocks slamming through the air.
Alona trained until her arms turned to jelly. Her legs moved like memoryโfast, fluid, automatic. Her footwork had become less like dancing and more like flickering in and out of reality.
"She's not running," Coach Cely whispered to herself, jaw slack. "She's warping."
Clarisse was the only one who could keep up. Their daily sparring sessions had evolved into artโfast, graceful, and savage. They didn't speak much, but when they did, it was pure sports poetry.
"Again," Clarisse said, already serving.
"Already?" Alona huffed.
"You hesitated," Clarisse replied.
"You blinked," Alona shot back.
"Fair."
Coach Tonton wandered in during one of their duels, sipping coconut water with an umbrella straw. He watched for ten seconds, turned to Coach Cely, and whispered, "I'm sweating and I'm not even moving."
๐ง "You're Sweaty." "You're Worse."
One humid afternoon, Alona collapsed onto the bench. Her ponytail clung to her neck. Her shirt stuck to her back like it had formed a union with her spine.
Dane wandered in from basketball scrimmage, drenched in sweat and looking like a walking sauna. They locked eyes.
"You smell like death," Alona mumbled, half-laughing.
"Death smells better than you," Dane shot back.
They both burst out laughing, heads tilted back, tension forgotten.
Behind the curtain, Karl and Nina ducked like spies behind the ball cart.
"They've entered the flirty insult phase," Karl whispered.
"Phase Three," Nina confirmed, scribbling in her notes.
"Phase Four is shared snacks."
"Phase Five is forehead touches."
"Phase Ten?"
"Wedding invitations."
Up in the bleachers, Mira leaned in toward Jomar. "You owe me โฑ100. I told you it was mutual."
๐ง Gossip Among the Rackets and Rebounds
By Friday, the gym was buzzing louder than a finals buzzer.
"Dane gave her his water bottle."
"They walked under one umbrella!"
"He let her serve first at sparring. That's romance in sports language."
On the tennis court, someone had drawn a chalkboard labeled:
Dane + Alona Development Arc, complete with stats, stick figures, and a doodle of a shuttlecock holding hands with a basketball.
Even volleyball got involved. Mila shouted, "Phase Four confirmed!" every time they were spotted within a meter of each other.
๐ฐ Coaches' Chaos
In the coach's office, it was less of a meeting and more of aโฆ betting ring.
Coach Dan leaned on the whiteboard with a grin.
"โฑ500 says it happens during Regionals."
"โฑ500 says he chokes," Coach Tonton said coolly, sipping tea like a gossip samurai.
"โฑ500 says Alona chokes him," Cely added without blinking.
"โฑ500 says Leia wins again," Leia smirked, arms crossed.
From outside the slightly ajar door, they could hear distant laughter.
"Was that them?"
"That was them."
Coach Cely casually started tallying wins with chalk under "Alona crush escalation arc."
๐ Final Shot: Under the Lights
Late evening. The gym was quiet, flooded in warm, tired light from the overhead floodlamps.
Everyone else had gone homeโexcept for Dane and Alona.
No drills. No banter. Just quiet.
Dane held out his towel without a word. Alona blinked. Took it.
Their fingers brushedโbriefly, then again, accidentally on purpose.
On the bleachers, Nina silently screamed into her hoodie while Yumi scribbled in her top-secret shipping log:
Phase Four UNLOCKED:
โ๏ธ Shared Towel
โ๏ธ Accidental Touch
โ๏ธ Mutual Blushing (Very high probability)
From behind the curtain, Coach Tonton peered through with binoculars.
"We're approaching Phase Six," he whispered.
"Which is?" Coach Cely asked, appearing with popcorn.
"Undeniable hand-holding or one of them fainting."
Coach Dan tiptoed in, glanced down at his bet slip.
"Five hundred on the confession happening right before the finals."
"Coward," Leia whispered. "I bet post-victory kiss."
Outside, Dane laughed softly as Alona tried to hand the towel back.
"Keep it," he said. "You'll need it tomorrow."
"Because of more training?"
"Because I'll make you blush again."
She didn't respondโonly threw the towel in his face with a grin.
From the shadows, Mira gasped.
"Phase Five has begun."
"Someone alert the group chat."