Dear Rival

{Chapter 18}

Shan's POV.

The whistle shrilled again. We moved at the same time two shadows closing the distance. I caught his shoulder; he twisted and countered. The mats thudded softly under our steps. It was supposed to be a light exhibition, but the rhythm between us had shifted. It didn’t feel like classmates sparring anymore; it felt like something that had been waiting since the first day we met.

William’s fist stopped just short of my ribs. I blocked too late, and the impact sent me half a step back. The crowd roared. I answered with a quick straight punch that tapped his chest harder than intended. He grinned, a flash of challenge in his eyes.

“Relax, boys!” the referee warned.

Neither of us answered. My breath came fast, his did too, but neither of us wanted to give ground. Each exchange was faster jab, block, sidestep. He clipped my shoulder, I tagged his arm. The gym’s noise faded into a dull thrum, all I could hear was the echo of our feet and the rush in my ears.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tanya tense. She had stopped pretending to be calm. Keisha said something to her, but she didn’t respond. William noticed the same thing, and his grin faltered for half a second. That hesitation was all I needed I pushed forward, driving him back until the referee stepped between us.

“Enough!” the whistle blew sharp. “Both of you, take a step back.”

We did, breathing hard. The referee’s eyes flicked from me to William. “Light contact, remember? This is a school festival, not a championship.”

“Yes, sir,” we both said automatically.

The crowd clapped some disappointed, some thrilled. It wasn’t a clear ending, but it had been the kind of match people would talk about later. William offered a hand; I hesitated, then shook it. His grip was steady, firm, but his eyes searched mine for something apology, maybe, or warning. I couldn’t tell.

“Good match,” he said finally.

“Yeah,” I managed.

When I looked toward the benches again, Tanya was still watching. She tried to smile but the ice pack slipped from her hand. I walked over without thinking, ignoring the pat on the back from Aiden and the noise around us.

“You shouldn’t stand so soon,” I said.

She looked up at me, a little defiant even with the faint bruise on her cheek. “And miss you acting all serious? No way.”

“You call almost fighting serious?”

“I call it stubborn.” She smiled weak, but there. “You’re both impossible.”

For a moment neither of us spoke. The nurse beside her was packing away bandages, pretending not to listen. William joined us a minute later, towel around his neck, a tired grin on his face.

“Guess it’s a draw,” he said lightly.

“Guess so,” I answered.

Tanya rolled her eyes. “You boys and your pride. Next time, try not to scare the entire gym.”

Keisha laughed softly behind her. “Yeah, you two looked like you were about to start a movie scene.”

I rubbed the back of my neck, suddenly aware of how quiet the crowd had become now that the next event was being set up. “You okay?” I asked Tanya again.

She gave a small shrug. “Just a little dizzy. Nothing serious.”

“Still—”

She cut me off with a grin. “You look more beaten than me, Villafuerte.”

It startled a laugh out of me, small but real. The tension eased, the air felt lighter.

“Come on,” she said, stepping down from the bench carefully. “Let’s not make the teachers think 10-Crimson is full of troublemakers.”

“Too late for that,” I said.

She tilted her head, amused. “Then at least we’ll be the interesting ones.”

Her friends started teasing from a distance, calling her name, waving snacks they’d bought from the stalls. William offered to walk with her, she shook her head. “I can manage. Go cool down before you faint.”

I watched her go, still holding the ice pack, still pretending she wasn’t hurting. Maybe she really wasn’t. Or maybe she was just better than anyone else at not showing it.

The referee clapped my shoulder. “Good control there at the end. Keep that up next time.”

“Thanks,” I said automatically, though my mind wasn’t on his words.

Across the gym, Tanya turned once, caught me staring, and raised an eyebrow. “What?” she mouthed.

“Nothing,” I mouthed back.

She grinned, faint but teasing, the kind of smile that said everything was fine even when it wasn’t. And just like that, the noise of the festival came rushing back the laughter, the shouts, the next match being called. I let out a long breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

The air inside the gym buzzed louder than before. Sweat, rubber soles, and the faint smell of adrenaline mixed with the sound of the crowd chanting both our names “Shan! William! Shan! William!”

The first round earlier had ended in chaos Tanya getting hurt, Veronica’s disqualification, and the boys’ spar round stopped midway because of the tension. But now, the emcee was back on stage, mic in hand, grin wide.

“Alright, everyone! You asked for it one last rematch! Representing 10-Crimson: Shan Villafuerte and William Bautista!”

I rolled my shoulders, the familiar rush sliding back in. My palms tingled the kind of buzz you only feel when you’re standing across someone who can actually match you.

William was already stretching, that same calm smile on his face. But there was something new in his eyes determination, maybe. Or a quiet message: this time, we’re finishing it properly.

Tanya was sitting near the front row beside Keisha, her right hand wrapped with a cooling patch. She looked fine now, but the worry in her gaze was hard to miss. When she caught me looking, she mouthed silently, “Don’t go overboard.”

I grinned partly to reassure her, partly to tease.

William walked closer. “You sure you’re up for this, Mr. President?”

“Always,” I said, offering a half-smirk. “You?”

“Born ready.”

The referee signaled us to take our stances. The gym dimmed slightly as the lights focused on the ring. Every sound sneakers squeaking, whistles blowing, classmates whispering faded until it was just him and me.

The whistle cut the air.

William struck first fast, sharp, like lightning. His form was clean, I barely dodged the first jab. He wasn’t the type to underestimate anyone, not even someone he’d smiled at two seconds ago.

We exchanged strikes quick taps to the chest and arms, no heavy blows. The crowd oohed with every move.

I caught his next kick, twisted slightly, and stepped back before countering with a feint. He blocked barely.

“Still holding back?” William taunted, breath steady.

I chuckled. “Wouldn’t want to embarrass you in front of Tanya.”

His smirk flickered that one got him.

He lunged again, more aggressive this time. His style was clean but forceful, a mix of practiced form and sheer willpower. The kind that came from wanting to prove something not to himself, but to someone watching.

I ducked under his swing and landed a tap to his shoulder just enough for the ref to call it a point.

“One and zero! Villafuerte takes the lead!”

Whistles. Tanya’s voice somewhere in the noise.

William grinned. “Not bad.”

He moved again, faster. I could tell he was analyzing my rhythm now, syncing with every dodge and counter. The fight had shifted less about pride, more about testing each other.

He landed a clean hit to my ribs. I winced but stayed firm.

“One and one!”

We reset. Both breathing harder. Both grinning.

The ref called for the final minute.

I could feel it that quiet connection between rivals who understand each other without needing words.

Something changed in his stance. He stepped in, executed a quick pivot, and aimed a strike that would’ve landed clean on my chest. If I hadn’t seen it coming.

I sidestepped, caught his wrist, twisted just enough for balance, and tapped his shoulder again.

“Two and one! Villafuerte!”

But William didn’t back down. He grinned wide, genuine and rushed again, ignoring the clock. I mirrored him, both of us moving in perfect rhythm until the final whistle blared.

Time stopped.

We froze both mid-stance, both breathless.

The ref raised my hand. “Winner Shan Villafuerte of 10-Crimson!”

Cheers roared. Our classmates stood up, waving their red banners and screaming.

Keisha yelled something unintelligible from the front row, Jc beside her pumping a fist in the air. Shell and Aiden high fived. Cath screamed like she was in a K-drama finale, while Denise smiled quietly, clapping.

Tanya just… smiled. That kind of smile that wasn’t loud, but it reached her eyes.

I looked back at William. He was still catching his breath, sweat glistening down his forehead.

Then he laughed softly and offered his hand.

“You got me this time.”

I clasped it firmly. “You almost had me.”

He shook his head. “Nah. That last move classic Villafuerte.”

The referee stepped aside as the crowd’s noise softened into cheers and claps of respect.

William turned toward Tanya’s direction, then back at me. “She was right, you know.”

I blinked. “About what?”

“That you don’t go overboard.”

I chuckled. “Guess she knows me too well.”

For a second, I thought I saw something flicker across his face a mix of understanding and realization. Then, he grinned again, wider this time, and patted my shoulder.

“Good game, bro.”

“Good game.”

We walked off the mat side by side. No rivalry now just two guys who gave it everything.

As we neared the benches, Tanya stood up, still clutching her wrapped hand.

“Nice fight,” she said, voice calm but teasing. “You two didn’t need to look like you were filming an action movie, though.”

William laughed. “You mean we didn’t?”

She rolled her eyes, smiling. “You both owe me milk tea after this.”

“Deal,” I said, before realizing I’d spoken at the same time William did.

Our voices overlapped. Tanya blinked, then laughed that soft, melodic laugh that somehow made all the bruises worth it.

“Okay,” she said. “Make that two milk teas.”

Keisha walked over with the others following. “Crimson really showed them, huh?”

Cath was grinning ear to ear. “Obviously. Did you see Shan’s dodge? That was straight out of a drama!”

Aiden elbowed me. “Don’t lie, bro. You were showing off because Tanya was watching.”

I coughed. “Shut up.”

Everyone burst out laughing.

William leaned closer. “Don’t worry, man. If it makes you feel better… I was too.”

I shot him a look, half threat, half-smirk.

He just grinned proud, easygoing, like a true teammate now.

The emcee announced the next event, the festival music resumed, and the crowd slowly shifted toward the food stalls outside.

But for me, the world stayed still for one second longer the sound of Tanya’s laughter, William’s friendly grin, the hum of the crowd echoing against the gym walls.

Rivalry. Friendship. Maybe something more tangled than both.

I exhaled, brushing sweat from my forehead.

And when Tanya met my eyes again, I could’ve sworn she mouthed, “Told you not to go overboard.”

I smiled. “Couldn’t help it.”