Chapter 5: Welcome to the Lion's Den

Location: Daet Provincial Sports Complex

Event: Provincial Sports Tournament

Vibes: Nerves. Sweat. Too many energy drinks. The hum of destiny.

The bus from Gubat to Daet was loud. Not in the screaming, chaotic way of field trips, but in the hum of adrenaline barely restrained. The athletes from Gubat Coastal High sat clustered in their respective cliques—volleyball to the left, tennis to the right, badminton near the back, and basketball sprawled across the middle aisle like they owned the air.

Dane leaned against the window, earbuds in, but no music playing. Just the beat of his own pulse as he watched the roads pass.

Alona, sitting across from Nina, pretended to be absorbed in adjusting her wrist tape. She caught glimpses of rival schools' uniforms as they passed by on the road. Their buses were flashier, their players louder.

"You ready?" Nina asked, voice quieter than usual.

Alona nodded. "More than ready."

She lied a little. But only a little.

The Arena – Day One

The Daet Provincial Sports Complex felt like a stadium compared to Gubat's humble courts. The ceilings were impossibly high. The lights, clinical and unflinching. The energy? Electrified.

"Don't gawk," Coach Cely whispered as they entered. "Stand tall. You belong here."

Alona straightened. She felt Nina's hand on her back—steady, always there. Beside them, the boys' basketball team stood with their coach, Coach Dan, who was scribbling last-minute plays on his palm like a war general.

"You'll see bigger courts and better uniforms," he said, eyes narrowed. "But don't be fooled. Heart doesn't wear matching jerseys."

Dane grinned. "Yes, Coach."

A whistle blew. Teams were called for orientation. Rival banners hung overhead.

Rival Schools:

Iriga Valley National (defending badminton champs)

Camarines Sur High (volleyball beasts)

Labo Technical Institute (tennis titans)

Daet West High (basketball powerhouse, home team)

They were wolves. And Gubat? Still growing into their fangs.

The Rivals Arrive

On the badminton court, a tall, angular girl with crimson ribbons tied to her racket case approached Alona during warmups.

"Alona Reyes?" she asked, polite but unreadable.

"That's me."

"I'm Clarisse Valerio. Iriga Valley."

Her grip was firm. Her smile, colder than aircon.

"I've seen your footage. You're… good."

Alona smirked. "So are you."

"Hope we meet in the finals." Clarisse walked away without waiting for an answer.

Nina let out a low whistle. "You just got rival-anime-girl-ed."

"Shut up."

"You love it."

Basketball Match – Round 1: Gubat Coastal High vs. Daet West High

Venue: Daet Indoor Arena

Crowd: Loud. Home-team biased. Booming with chants.

Vibe: Underdog vs. King of the Court

The floor was polished to a mirror sheen. Lights beat down like interrogation lamps. Banners of Daet West High Lions hung from the rafters, bold blue and silver. Gubat's jerseys looked plain beside them, but the fire behind Dane's eyes burned brighter than anything fabric could fake.

Coach Dan slapped Dane's shoulder as he pulled him aside. "You've got the wingspan. Use it. But don't chase highlight blocks—play the angles."

Dane nodded. His face was calm, but his legs buzzed with tension.

Across from him, Daet's captain, Enzo Dalisay, spun the ball between his fingers with casual arrogance. He was a third-year with national-level rumors behind his name. 6'2", athletic, slick smile. The crowd loved him.

The whistle blew. Tip-off.

Jump ball.

Enzo leapt. So did Dane.

Dane's hand swatted the ball midair, not backward—but sideways.

"Jem, now!"

The shooting guard, Jem Pascual, caught it in stride and dashed down the left lane.

First blood: Layup. Gubat leads 2–0.

The crowd stilled for a half-second.

Enzo raised an eyebrow. "So the rumors are true."

Quarter 1: Testing the Waters

Daet responded with a quick 3-pointer from the wing. Clean form, perfect arc.

Dane shook his head. Don't panic. Set up the zone.

"2-3 zone!" he called out.

Gubat shifted like a single creature—guards high, forwards tight, Dane anchoring the center like a stone wall.

Enzo tried to drive past him with a crossover.

Dane didn't bite. He backpedaled, kept his arms wide, watched the hips—not the ball.

Enzo lunged.

Dane's hand flashed. Block.

The gym exploded—but half in disbelief, half in outrage.

"Foul!" the Daet bench shouted.

The ref shook his head. "Clean."

Dane flicked the ball to Jem and hustled up the court.

Quarter 2: Gubat's Turn

Coach Dan adjusted his glasses. "Pick-and-roll. Make them chase."

Dane and forward Carlo "Big C" Mendoza ran the next play like they'd rehearsed it a thousand times. Carlo set the screen—thick and immovable. Dane used it, drew two defenders, then dumped it off behind the back.

Carlo dunked. The Gubat bench erupted.

10–8, Gubat up.

But Daet answered fast.

Enzo snatched the inbound, pushed coast-to-coast, and this time, he faked left—then floated the ball over Dane's reach.

Tie game. 10–10.

He winked at Dane on the way back. "You're good. But I'm better."

Dane smiled thinly. "We'll see."

Halftime: Locker Room Breaths

Gubat led by 3. Coach Dan paced.

"They're rattled. Stay aggressive. But I swear—if I see one lazy backcourt pass, I'll make you run laps until graduation."

Dane took a breath. His jersey clung to his back. His arms ached. But his eyes?

Sharper than ever.

"We're not here to survive," he told the team. "We're here to win."

Quarter 3: War of Wills

Daet turned up the heat. Full-court press. Traps in the corners. Elbows not accidentally thrown.

Dane absorbed a shoulder to the ribs but kept the ball alive.

He passed to Jem, cut to the baseline, received the ball again, faked a jumper, spun into the lane—

Reverse layup. Net whispered. 26–24.

Enzo responded with a euro-step past Carlo.

Swish. 26–26.

Back and forth they went. Every possession was war.

Alona gripped the bleacher rail, heart pounding.

"He's not just playing," she whispered. "He's orchestrating."

Final Quarter: Final Minutes

30 seconds left. 40–40.

Timeout.

Coach Dan slammed his clipboard down. "Run Red Seven. Alona's play."

The team blinked.

"Wait—Reyes?" Jem asked.

Coach pointed to Dane. "Ask him."

Dane looked up. "She said it works when the defense is tired. Trust me."

Inbound. Jem to Dane.

The whole court focused on him.

So he passed. Fast. Diagonal. Behind.

Back to Carlo.

Carlo feinted. Passed again.

To Jem—who was wide open at the elbow.

He shoots. Ball arcs. Time slows.

Swish.

42–40.

Buzzer.

Silence.

Then chaos.

Aftermath

Enzo approached, grinning despite the loss.

"That was a hell of a game."

"You too," Dane said, wiping sweat from his jaw.

"Hope we meet again," Enzo said. "Maybe in Regionals."

"Maybe in Nationals."

Alona waited by the tunnel.

Dane walked up to her, not smiling—but glowing.

"You were right," he said.

Alona tilted her head. "About?"

"That play."

She blinked. "You actually used it?"

He shrugged. "You're smarter than you act."

"Then you're luckier than you look."

Their fingers brushed for half a second.

Neither mentioned it.

Badminton Begins Tomorrow

Back at the dorms, Alona stared at the ceiling while Nina snored lightly beside her.

Clarisse Valerio. Provincials. New courts. New pressure.

But she didn't feel small.

She felt sharpened.

From her bag, she pulled out her racket. A little chipped. A little worn.

Just like her.

But still standing.