Chapter 19 - Last Game at the Hive
Chapter 19: Last Game at the Hive
The Hive still smelled the same.
A strange mix of floor polish, sweat, and old shuttlecocks. The kind of scent no amount of disinfectant could erase. It clung to the court like history.
Aleem arrived first. Naturally. He stood by the doorway of Sports Hall 3, hands in pockets, just… watching. The court was empty, but alive with ghosts. That corner where Crystal tripped over her own shoelace. The line where Ivan served with embarrassing precision. The echo of Isabelle’s laugh, ricocheting off the ceiling beams after every lucky point.
He stepped in slowly, feeling the wood give a soft creak under his shoes. The same court where four strangers once became something more.
ABIX was home again.
They trickled in one by one.
Crystal, ponytail high and racket slung over her shoulder, pretending she was ready for the Olympics.
Ivan, late as usual, claiming he’d forgotten the way until someone reminded him they always met at Hall 3, not Hall 2.
Isabelle, quieter than the others, but with a smile that said I needed this.
They warmed up lazily—half-hearted stretches, light taps over the net, Crystal complaining that her wrist had “aged since the last match.”
But then the first real serve flew.
And suddenly, time collapsed.
It wasn’t 2025 anymore.
It was Week 2 of Year 1. It was sweaty shoes and inside jokes. It was “eh change court” and “don’t serve so hard lah!” and “WAH lucky shot!”
They played like nothing had changed.
And also like everything had.
Between Games
They took breaks on the sidelines, passing around water bottles and wiping their faces with old NTU towels.
“You guys remember our first game?” Crystal asked, lying flat on her back, staring at the ceiling.
“Isabelle couldn’t even hold the racket properly,” Ivan said with a grin.
“I was nervous, okay,” Isabelle muttered, nudging him with her foot.
Aleem chuckled. “You hit me in the face with your first return.”
“I still say that was your fault for standing too close.”
Crystal sighed. “I miss those days.”
A pause.
Then Aleem spoke. “We’re still here.”
“Yeah,” Crystal whispered. “But not for long.”
They all knew what she meant.
This wasn’t a permanent rhythm anymore. Meetups had to be scheduled, not spontaneous. Conversations were often typed out instead of spoken. Life had stretched them in different directions.
But this—this court, this game, this shared breath between rallies—it brought them back to center.
To a version of themselves that would always exist within these lines.
The Final Rally
“Last game?” Aleem asked.
“Make it count,” Ivan said.
They played in pairs—Aleem and Isabelle vs. Crystal and Ivan.
It wasn’t clean. It wasn’t even fair.
Crystal tripped twice. Isabelle somehow aced a cross-court smash. Ivan got distracted by a moth. Aleem nearly pulled his shoulder trying to reach a drop shot.
But when the last point landed—when the final score didn’t even matter—they all stood at center court, panting, laughing, glowing.
“We’re getting old,” Crystal said, grinning.
“We’re getting better,” Aleem corrected.
And then he reached into his bag.
Pulled out a small, clear acrylic plaque.
One word etched into it.
ABIX.
No date. No quote. Just the name.
“Just thought we should leave something behind,” he said.
They didn’t say anything at first.
Then Isabelle took it from his hands, held it up to the light, and nodded.
“We should.”
The Goodbye That Wasn’t One
They placed the plaque in a quiet corner behind the bleachers. Hidden, but not too hidden.
A secret for anyone curious enough to look.
Not for recognition.
But for remembrance.
When they finally stepped out of the hall, the sun had dipped below the trees, casting long shadows across the path. But their own shadows moved side by side.
No one said goodbye.
Because this wasn’t the end.
Not of them.
Just of a chapter they would always carry.