“Lindy inbounds and runs to the left corner circling around the perimeter, followed by Lung. Hannah, to Alice, guarded by Kofi. Saya can’t tail Hannah, they’re going for a three!”

The play, just like most in times like this, was simple. Lindy gave the ball to Hannah, she pretended to go into isolation before passing it to Kate, in the meantime, the center finished going around the baseline, receiving the ball from Kate as soon as she reached the wing, amidst those movements the Point Guard moves behind Kate, the Shooting guard sets a simple screen, just enough to slow down Yuki.

Thankfully, everything went perfectly, she got the ball, spanned it around her hands and got into her shooting form, all of it in less than a second, years of training making their presence known, as the ball left her hands, she could already feel it, this is going in.  No player can truly explain how, but with enough experience, there are just moments when you simply know.

While the ball is still in the air, Hannah is already turning away, moving to defense, her teammates stay behind, waiting for a rebound that never comes, the three-pointer hits and she can finally breathe again. The sound of some fans on their rival’s court cuts the silence, the yell of the announcers almost overshadows the whistle of the Seagull's timeout.

“She’s unbelievable, truly I can’t eve—”

“She has 57 points that’s—”

“Insane, I had my doubts—”

“I didn’t”

“Well, yes but that’s not a normal shot.”

“Even now, she doesn’t smile, she just left—”

“She did turn away while the ball was going in, a little Steph Curry in her veins an—”

“Wow, wow, there’s a lit—”

“A fight? Oh boy, that’s grea—”

“Awful, it’s awful Kelly.”

As soon as the coaches began walking into the court, Hannah was looking down, heading back to her bench when a shoulder met her own, the pure strength of the other player made her step back, looking up, she met Ashley’s eyes, a glare so filled with anger that it would normally send Hannah away, but at the moment this isn't her normal self, still filled with adrenaline and some stupid sense of pride, she holds the taller girl’s gaze planting her feet on the floor and waiting for her to move out of the way.

In a murmur, Court asks, “What? Want an autograph?”

Ashley scoffs, putting one hand on the blonde’s shoulder she pushes her away while saying, “Got one lucky shot and now you think you’re tough?”

Usually, Hannah would ignore that, she doesn’t talk back, she doesn’t hit back, she should just answer in the court, not bother with childish fighting, she should keep her head down and move on, make the most of this one minute she can rest and listen to the defense stops the coach is going to come up. But every cell in her body screams for her to fight back, say something, yell something, do something. For the first time in her 8 years in the WNBA and 4 years in college, she doesn't just say something back, she focuses on the best way to hurt her opponent, after spitting her mouth guard on her hands she looks up again, letting out a loud, bitter and low remark, “Why the hell are you talking like a starter? Go sit your sorry ass on the bench and wait for the actual players to carry you.”

The people on the Seagull’s bench stop talking, and all of the players going back that were moving to their staffs also stop to look at the source of the insults, Ashley moves quickly, approaching with eyebrows arched down, breathing heavily she pulls Hannah closer by the collar of her shirt, nostrils flaring and lips trembling, she yells, “What’d you just say to me?”

Hannah lets out a slight laugh, pending her head to the side like she is curious, “Not only do you suck at basketball but you’re also deaf? Is that why you can’t follow a play”

“Yo, guys, let’s chill!” Yuki is the first one to get between them, slightly touching their chests, quickly trying to separate the two.

But before she can push them back, she is the one being pushed away by Lindy, a full game of being outplayed finally reaching its boiling point, the Center is not trying to stop the fight or protect her teammate, she just really wants to punch Saya, but she needs to avoid an ejection, so she pretends like she cares by saying, “Why don’t you get your Jack Skellington-ass back to your side and leave my point guard alone.”

“Jack Skellington?”

Taking advantage of the free lane since Yuki was taken away by another player, Ashley shoves Hannah back, throwing her on the floor, players and staff swarm them, there is a moment where she begins to get up, ready to keep the fight going, but those same people keep her from actually pursuing anything physical holding her back while moving her to her bench, not trying to lose their best player.

As time passes, she can’t hear a single sound besides the ringing in her ear, the screams of the fans and the yelling of her teammates are all muffled, she can’t notice the faces of the people as she sits down on the bench, there is almost a barrier between herself and the world. Trying to search for the basketball she notices how foggy her vision is, trying to clean her eyes she notices how she doesn't feel her own hands letting out all of the air in her lungs she notices how she has no more strength to move.

But the world doesn’t stop, even though Hannah can’t watch the free throws they still happen, the referee still holds the ball outside of the left sideline ready to give possession back to the Seagulls. Still down by one, still with 19 seconds to make a play, still ready to crush Hannah’s dreams.

When the inbound happens and their movement begins, Court is not brought back to reality when Kofi pushes her while trying to get free, or when Ashley moves behind her, the one thing that brings her back to reality is when Yuki gets the ball.

Hannah loves basketball, she studies every facet of it, and something she learned at the beginning of her journey is that most of the game is decided in a psychological battle, the amount of time you choose to dedicate to training, your mental state as the match begins, everything is set by where your head is. Every possession lives and dies by what the player feels. Hannah spent years studying other players, from the roleplayers to the superstars. She has pages upon pages with information about them, but there is only one that has her full attention.

Yuki Saya is her best friend, only friend, rival, enemy, biggest supporter and best disincentive. When Yuki won Rookie of the Year, Hannah cried, but she was happy that she lost to someone who deserved the praise. When she lost in the first round to the Seagulls Hannah cried, but Yuki just played better, she wanted more, so that was fine.

But in her third year, when they were more than just colleagues, Hannah noticed that Saya didn't want more, she did the bare minimum to get better at basketball, there was no passion just duty, it was almost like a job she didn't like and was naturally amazing at, yet, in some games there were glimpses of the same fire that Hannah has, moments when she moved faster when she actually tried to play defense and offense she turned into the scariest player Hannah has ever faced.

Prodigy, chosen one and blessed. All of them have been used to describe Yuki Saya. Lazy, irresponsible and bust have also been used to describe her. As she handles the ball at the top of the perimeter a worried Lindy guarding her, not one of these descriptors appears in Hannah’s mind, there is just one screaming word swerving on her mind: Danger.

They are all in danger. They made her angry. She actually wants to win now.

The first step to the right is quick, an unusual explosion of speed as she drives to the high post, Lindy watched hours of her game, and she knows that there is a layup coming, so she backs down, closely following the taller woman, but instead of moving to the basket, she keeps going right, almost reaching the baseline, there is no time for a pass, there is no time for a good shot. Hannah knows that.

4 seconds on the clock, a 20-footer, her back to the basket while being smothered by a defensive player, and now, there was another hand trying to stop her movement, Hannah left her own woman and was now trapping the Center at that spot. In five seconds, she’ll win it. Yuki is trying this time, but there’s no time. There's no time.

She first heard the exhale of the taller girl, then, the sound of her sneakers turning, a fade-away jumper almost at the three-point line, that's not a shot she takes. She never does that, Hannah shouldn't have been ready, but she was, she was already jumping with her hand held up high, trying to get even the smallest touch in the ball, Lindy was not as fast, but she was still there. They were both playing the best defense of their lives. They made the shot the hardest it could ever be.

Hannah turned around to look at the shot while they were both in the middle of their contest, she couldn't even gain the benefit of the doubt, almost like the universe was taunting her, it was all net. It didn't even touch the rim, ignoring the celebration of the crowd and the buzzer indicating the end of the game, the shot didn't even make a sound.

She's pushed away by one of the Seagull's assistants, she can't bring herself to look up, she can't move. Hannah feels like she is stuck in place, staring at the place where Yuki shot the game-winner and now there is just an agglomeration of people covering the player’s body with hugs, screams and just a sense of happiness that feels alien to Court.

When she finally does move, it's only because her coach is urging her to get to the locker room, the music of the stadium slowly dying down as they leave the court. All of the team, from coaching staff to starters move quietly, each thinking about something different. When they finally reach their designed seats, the silence stops, replaced by the sounds of clothes moving, lockers opening and a quiet cry.

The sweat is mixing with her tears, she can't keep her lips can't close because they don't stop trembling, just like her leg, even her hair feels like it's pushing her head down, droplets of water paint the floor, her fluids mark the seat. Hannah is usually always worried about her hygiene but now that she is disgusting she doesn't care about her looks, there is just the game on her mind. Even while deep in thought, she still tried to keep her crying to nothing more than a muffled sound, but it still caught the attention of her teammates.

Sitting across from her, Lindy lets out a bitter snort, “are you actually crying? Stop being a sore loser, we’re gonna get them next year”

Hannah looks up, meeting the eyes of her teammates, her vision blurred, her chest still moving up and down with every second, putting all the strength she can muster on her sentence, she says, “I’m not going to be here next year. And if you can't win with me, you certainly are not winning without me.”

“Dude, we get it, you're good, but your ego is way bigger than you,” Alice argues on the corner.

Hannah ran a hand through her hair, closing her eyes for a second before explaining, “I’m not trying to be disrespectful. All I'm saying is that I am the best player here and even when I have the best game of my life and we still can't win, so without me, it's gonna be even worse.”

“Girl, didn't you sign for 4 years? You still have one more in the contract, stop trying to put us down.”

Hannah lets out a sigh, the tiredness of having to explain herself overwhelming her, pushing herself off her seat, she wobbles to the door, “For me to put you guys down we would need to be at the same level, please stop comparing us, we're not the same.”

She doesn't wait for her teammates to argue back, the door closes before she can hear their words, without thinking, she begins to walk away from the locker room, the Seagull's celebration is still going, their muffled screams feel like a twisted reminder of what she lost, their laughter turns into the worst mocking sound she has ever heard.

She really won't be here in a year.

“So…? How does it feel to play with Yuki after all these years of this rivalry? Are you confident that y'all are contenders?”

All of the cameras turn to her, she feels her face itch, she hates the makeup, she hates public speaking, hates being the center of attention, the knowledge that her words are going to be twisted, the fact that they are going to edit her face for their thumbnails, but surprisingly, the thing she hates the most is something she can control. The amount of lying she has to do.

Putting on a fake and contained smile, she lies, “Oh, yeah, it's going great, but we aren't a team fighting for a title, we are one of the favorites. Trust me when I say this. We are winning the championship.”