The Name That Haunts

Three days after his first win, Rai's name started appearing in places he didn't want it to. Not on the scoreboard, not on the school announcements—but on his phone screen.

It all started with a 28-second video. In it, Rai jumped and smashed a shuttlecock with a sharp "tak!" sound that echoed through the hall of the Semeru Sports Hall. Taken from a corner of the stands by a student from an opposing school, the video was captioned:

"Reza Aksara's son is making a comeback? His smash is no joke…"

A few hours later, the video had been liked thousands of times on the social media of surrounding schools. Retweeted. Sent to alumni groups. Tagged to local badminton media accounts. And of course—made into gossip.

Rai found out from Tama.

"You went viral, bro!" he said, dragging a chair next to Rai's table in the canteen. "Did you see this? Here, your smash video has been shared on the @SmashNetID account. The comments are really busy!"

Rai only looked up briefly from his fried rice.

"How crowded?"

"It was crowded. Some were amazed, some said you lost your father's style. Someone wrote: 'Be careful not to let the scores be fixed again.' Crazy, huh?"

Rai put down his spoon slowly.

Tama immediately stopped laughing. "Eh… I mean… they're just talking nonsense. You don't have to think about it."

But Rai had already gotten up from his seat.

"I'm not hungry anymore."

That day, throughout the lesson, Rai felt like he was walking through glass. Eyes followed his every step. In the corridor, there were students whispering and staring. In class, even the Japanese teacher made a strange comment: "Aksara-san, I hope you don't 'fix' our exam results…"

Some of his friends laughed. But not Rai.

Ayaka realized it faster than the others. When the afternoon practice started, and Rai came without enthusiasm and even forgot to tie his shoelaces, she immediately put the practice on hold.

"What's wrong?" Ayaka asked sharply.

"I'm just tired."

"Nonsense. You're walking like you've run out of gas, but your body is still able to do it. It's not muscle fatigue."

Rai remained silent, staring at the ground.

Ayaka waited. But when there was no answer, she said, "If you keep quiet, they'll win."

Rai turned his head. "Who are they?"

"Those who don't know you, but feel they have the right to talk about you."

Rai snorted. "They're just talking about facts."

Ayaka raised an eyebrow. "Facts? Facts they twisted. Facts they inherited from half-baked news stories six years ago. Do you think they know what happened back then?"

Rai clenched his fists. "I don't know either! I was just a kid when my father was massacred by the media! I just sat in the stands, watching everyone throw bottles onto the field! I don't know why he did that! And now… I have to bear all that?"

Rai's voice cracked.

Ayaka didn't reply. He just stared at him, silent.

Rai turned around and walked away from the field.

"I… quit training today."

That night, the sky was dark and starless. Rai returned to the school field without telling anyone. He brought a racket, but no shuttlecock. Just himself and a long shadow on the ground.

He stood in the middle of the center line, then looked up at the sky.

"It's not fair," he whispered. "Why can't I start from zero? Why does everyone have to remind me who my father is?"

Soft footsteps were heard from behind.

"Because the world is never neutral," Ayaka's voice came from the darkness.

Rai didn't turn around.

"I didn't ask you to follow."

"I know."

Ayaka approached. She sat on the edge of the court, knees bent, hands supporting her head.

"Do you know why I quit being a player?" she asked softly.

Rai turned his head slowly.

Ayaka looked up at the sky like Rai had earlier.

"Not because of the injury. Or, not just because of that. The injury was a public reason. But actually… I quit because I was afraid. Afraid that everything I built would be destroyed by one defeat."

He took a breath.

"When you came to this court, I saw someone who had a good reason to hate badminton. But also someone who… never really gave up hope."

Rai lowered his head.

"Now they're starting to know your name," Ayaka continued. "And they'll keep talking. But you have a choice. You can close your ears and let them write your history… or you can open your mouth and write your own story."

There was silence for a moment. The night wind moved softly.

"Will you help me write it?" Rai asked finally.

Ayaka turned her head. "If you're ready. But not as Reza Aksara's son. As Rai Aksara."

Rai smiled a little, the first time that day.

"What time is practice tomorrow?"

"Dawn. Before the first morning gossip comes out."

Rai laughed softly.

The next morning, @SmashNetID re-uploaded Rai's video with a new caption:

"Rai Aksara: Not a Shadow, But New Lightning on the Court."

Rai didn't see it.

He was running around the court with a racket in hand and his eyes looking ahead.

He didn't need to know what they were saying.

Because this time, he was writing his own story.