I adjusted my headset, breathing deeply to calm my nerves. This was it—the championship match. Everything we had worked for led to this moment.

To my left, Sitetampo was already focused, his fingers drumming lightly against the desk. Moya, on my right, was stretching his arms, rolling his shoulders back as if to shake off any tension.

"This is it," Sitetampo said, his voice steady. "We play like we've trained, and we've got this."

Moya smirked, shooting me a glance. "Y/n, ready to carry us?"

"Me? You wish," I shot back with a small laugh.

He chuckled, and even Sitetampo's lips twitched into the faintest smile. Despite the tension, it felt good to have these moments of levity.

"All right," Sitetampo said through the comms as the match lobby loaded in. "We stick to the plan. Moya, keep them guessing. Y/n, play aggressively but watch your back. I'll handle mid."

"Got it," I replied, locking in my character.

Moya's voice came through with his usual confidence. "Let's remind everyone why we're the team to beat."

The countdown began, each second pulling us closer to the starting bell. The roar of the audience faded into the background as my focus zeroed in on the screen in front of me.

The match opened with a flurry of action, our opponents pushing hard to establish dominance. They were aggressive, relentless, and well-coordinated, but we were ready.

"Moya, rotate to mid!" Sitetampo called out as the enemy began a coordinated assault.

"On it!" Moya replied, his movements swift and deliberate.

I went left, taking out one of their players with a clean shot before retreating to cover.

"Nice move, Y/n," Sitetampo said, his tone calm but encouraging.

We managed to hold the line through the first phase, our teamwork keeping their advances in check. The game was tight, but we were in control—barely.

Midway through the match, the enemy team switched up their strategy, catching us off guard.

"They're pushing right!" I called out, my eyes scanning the map.

"I see it," Moya said, repositioning to counter their play.

Sitetampo's voice was steady as he adjusted our strategy. "Y/n, move up. We need to put pressure on their backline."

I nodded, my fingers sliding across the screen as I executed the maneuver. The crowd roared as I secured a key elimination, creating an opening for Moya to capitalize on.

"Nice one!" Moya said, his grin audible through the comms.

With the pressure mounting, our opponents made one last desperate push, trying to reclaim control.

"Moya, cover me!" Sitetampo called out as he moved into position for the final objective.

"Got your back!" Moya replied, his defensive play giving Sitetampo the breathing room he needed.

I went left again, taking out another player and cutting off their retreat.

The final moments were a blur of action, my heart pounding as we worked together to secure the win.

When the victory screen flashed, the arena erupted into cheers. I pulled off my headset, the rush of adrenaline making my hands tremble.

"We did it," Sitetampo said, his usually calm voice tinged with satisfaction.

Moya whooped, throwing an arm around my shoulders. "I told you we had this!"

I laughed, shaking my head at his enthusiasm. "You did all right, I guess."

As we stepped off the stage, the weight of the win began to sink in. It wasn't just about the trophy or the recognition—it was about proving to myself that I belonged here.

Later that evening, as the team celebrated, I found a quiet spot near the edge of the venue, needing a moment to process everything. The sound of laughter and clinking glasses carried from the lounge, but I let myself soak in the quiet.

Sitetampo appeared beside me, his steady presence grounding me as always. He didn't say anything at first, just stood there, his hand brushing gently against mine.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice calm and reassuring.

I nodded, letting out a small laugh. "Yeah. I think I finally am."

He tilted his head slightly, studying me with that familiar, quiet intensity I had come to rely on. "You were incredible out there. You proved everyone wrong. The doubters, the critics—every single one."

"I didn't just prove them wrong," I said softly, my voice steady with a conviction I hadn't felt before. "I proved it to myself. That I can do this. That I deserve to be here."

"You've always deserved it," he said, his voice unwavering as he reached for my hand. "I've always known that. I just wanted you to see it too."

For a moment, I looked at him, the weight of the tournament, the doubts, and the endless questions that had haunted me finally fading into nothing. "I was scared," I admitted. "Scared that I wasn't enough. Scared that I'd let you down. But now... I'm not scared anymore."

"You never had to prove anything to me," he said, his tone firm yet gentle. "But I've never been more proud of you."

His words settled deep within me, erasing the last remnants of my fear. Smiling, I squeezed his hand, the warmth of his touch anchoring me. I leaned my head against his shoulder, allowing myself to relax fully for the first time in months.

This wasn't just the end of a tournament. It was the beginning of your new career.

The doubts were gone. The harsh critics didn't matter anymore. I had my team, my victory, and, most of all, I had him.

Together, we turned and walked back toward the celebration, our steps light and unburdened. Whatever came next, I was ready—because for the first time, I truly believed in myself.



A/N: guys i'm sad to say that this will be the last chapter of the story.. though i might start a new one AFTER my exams, i start my exams thursday and i'll be finished next week on friday. FYI suggestions for a new story are always welcome!!! :D