Kicking Fire - A Story of Mulan

XIII.

Raya

I sat on the bench, my fingers tapping a restless rhythm against my thigh, eyes fixed on the field.

The boys were in the middle of a scrimmage, their cleats pounding the grass like war drums. Alec darted past two defenders, all grace and grit, tossing a clean spiral down the field. The crowd of players roared with energy. Every movement was sharp. Efficient. Practiced.

My legs itched to move.

I couldn’t just sit here and watch anymore.

I stood, the muscles in my calves tightening as I took a deep breath. Mela and Trish were chatting nearby, stretching casually as they cooled off. I hesitated only a moment before making my way over.

“Hey,” I said, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. “You guys want to… do something?”

Mela looked up, surprised. “Like what?”

“I don’t know… drills. Something productive while we wait. We can’t waste time just sitting here, right?”

Trish tilted her head. “You mean… on the side of the field?”

“Yeah.” I nodded quickly, my pulse picking up. “Footwork drills, maybe cone work? I watched a few clips online last night—there’s stuff we can do without needing the whole field. It’s not much, but it’s something. We can work on speed, movement, balance…”

They exchanged a glance.

Then Mela grinned. “Girl, you’re serious about this.”

“I mean… I have to be.” I shrugged. “If we’re going to turn things around, we need to use every second.”

Trish stood up, brushing off her shorts. “You know what? Let’s do it.”

Mela cracked her knuckles. “You lead. We follow.”

My heart jumped.

I grabbed the cones sitting near the bench and started setting up a short ladder pattern—nothing fancy, just enough for quick feet drills and some side shuffles. As we took our places, I noticed a few of the boys glance our way. I ignored them.

We weren’t doing this for them.

We started slow—just high knees through the cones, side-to-side steps, bursts of short sprints. My body ached from earlier practice, but with every motion, something inside me clicked into place.

This felt right.

This felt like a beginning.

I stumbled through the last cone with a little too much momentum and had to catch myself before toppling forward.

“Careful there!” Trish called out, laughing as she jogged past me in her own quick-footed rhythm. “You’re leading the charge, but you’re gonna crash the line!”

I laughed too, a breathless sound from my chest as I bent over and rested my hands on my knees. “Yeah, okay—so maybe I need to be led sometimes.”

“Lucky for you, that’s what we’re here for.” Mela winked and kicked one of the cones back into place. “You’ve got the fire, girl, no doubt. But football’s got its own language. We’ll help you translate.”

There was something about the way they moved—confident, assured. While I was still finding my footing, they made it look effortless. Like they’d been playing in secret all this time, quietly refining what others never bothered to watch.

“I’m really glad you two are okay with this,” I said, jogging back to the starting line with them. “I know I barged into the team out of nowhere, and I don’t want to seem like I’m trying to… I don’t know, take over or something.”

Trish rolled her eyes. “Raya, please. You literally sparked the fire that got us on the field today.”

“Yeah,” Mela added. “Before you, we were glorified cheerleaders with shoulder pads. No offense to cheerleaders, but… we’re not here to clap from the bleachers.”

That made me smile. “Thanks. Seriously.”

“Alright,” Trish clapped her hands. “Let’s switch it up. Cone shuffle, then short sprint to that patch over there. No full-speed, just form.”

They showed me how to square my shoulders and keep my knees low while shuffling sideways. At first, I kept crossing my feet too much, and Mela pointed it out with a grin and a shake of her head.

“Try not to trip yourself. Stay light, like you’re dancing.”

“Pretty sure I’ve never danced like this before,” I muttered, but tried again.

This time, I nailed the shuffle, launching into the sprint like I was breaking past the defensive line. The wind sliced against my face, and I couldn’t help the little laugh that bubbled up. For all my awkwardness, I felt alive in that motion—raw, unpolished, but undeniable.

“Look at you!” Trish yelled. “Girl’s got wheels!”

“You see that acceleration?” Mela added. “That’s the Taekwondo legs working overtime.”

“I’m still winded though,” I gasped, bending over again.

Trish handed me her water bottle. “Get used to it. This is the kind of tired we like around here.”

We rested a bit, sitting cross-legged on the cool grass while the boys roared behind us. Alec’s voice rang out now and then, clear and commanding. I caught a glimpse of him darting between defenders, crisp and calculated like a shadow in motion.

“He’s good,” I said before I could stop myself.

Mela smirked. “Alec? Oh, he’s a beast. Kinda arrogant, though.”

“Kinda?” Trish scoffed. “He thinks the sun rises for football practice and sets when he throws a touchdown.”

I laughed harder than I meant to. “Well… I guess it shows.”

They both turned toward me with mischievous grins.

“What?” I said, eyebrows raised.

Mela leaned in. “Someone’s got a little admiration.”

“Oh no,” I said quickly, waving it off. “It’s not like that. He’s just… focused. And I respect that.”

“Sure,” Trish sang teasingly. “Focused. We’ll go with that.”

I threw a blade of grass at her, and they both ducked and laughed.

After our break, we went back to drills. This time, they showed me a catch-and-release exercise—receiving the football, controlling it quickly, then tossing it with purpose. I fumbled the first dozen tries, but Trish kept tossing it back to me with a grin, never losing patience.

“Use your fingers, not your palms. Guide it, don’t slap it,” she instructed.

I followed her advice and finally landed a clean pass to Mela, who raised her hands like I just scored a touchdown.

“Yes! See? Told you!”

I couldn’t stop smiling. “I think my arms are gonna fall off.”

“That just means it’s working,” Mela said, playfully nudging my shoulder. “Pain now, power later.”

The three of us kept rotating, encouraging one another, laughing when someone tripped or botched a move, clapping when we got it right. The noise from the main field faded into the background, like we’d carved our own little world from the sidelines—one where we weren’t after trophies or attention, just progress.

As the afternoon stretched on, the golden sunlight slanted across the turf, catching the edges of our sweat-damp hair and making everything feel a little more cinematic. Trish called out plays she’d heard the boys yell earlier, and we mimicked them, pretending we were part of some championship team.

“Guinto’s got the ball!” Mela shouted. “She dodges one, sidesteps another, and—”

I stumbled forward, barely catching myself before crashing into Trish, and we both fell into a heap, laughing hysterically.

“—and wipes out,” Trish finished through her laughter. “Crowd goes wild.”

I clutched my stomach, breathless. “Okay. Maybe we’re not championship level yet.”

“But we will be,” Mela said firmly, helping me up.

And I believed her.

We brushed ourselves off, jogging back to the bench as the boys began wrapping up their drills. My legs were sore, my arms ached, and sweat soaked the collar of my shirt.

But my heart?

It was full.

We flopped onto the bench, breathless and grinning, as the last rays of sunlight stretched long across the field. My muscles were begging for mercy, but I didn’t care. I leaned back, letting the light warm my cheeks while Trish unscrewed the cap of her water bottle and handed it to me.

“Hydrate, rookie,” she said with a grin. “We’ve only just started your football glow-up.”

I took a long sip and sighed, sweat clinging to my neck. “You guys are seriously amazing. I wouldn’t even know where to begin without you.”

“You began by stepping up,” Mela said, nudging me with her knee. “That takes guts, Raya. Especially around them.” Her eyes flicked toward the boys still gathered near the coach.

I chuckled. “Yeah, well, I was terrified. Still am, actually.”

Trish shrugged. “That’s normal. But fear only wins when you let it stop you. And girl, you? You didn’t stop.”

Mela turned toward me, a little more serious now. “Okay, so here’s the thing. If you really want to improve—like really improve—you’ve got to focus on control. Quick feet, tight catches, smoother passes. You already have speed, which is a huge advantage. But speed without control? That’s like a racecar with no steering wheel.”

I nodded, taking mental notes. “Control. Got it.”

“And confidence,” Trish added. “Not just on the field, but in your decisions. Own your space, even if you’re still learning. Especially then.”

“I can’t believe you’re giving me all this advice,” I said, smiling at both of them. “You don’t have to, you know. I just… I really appreciate it.”

“Of course we do,” Mela said. “We want the team to win. And we want you to win.”

Just then, a familiar voice called out.

“Look at you, Miss Football.”

I turned to see Irene, striding down from the bleachers with her usual bounce and mischief in her steps. She was still in her hoodie and jeans, arms crossed with an amused smile on her face.

“Hey!” I greeted her, heart lifting instantly. “You watched that?”

“Watched? I’ve been cheering in silence like a supportive ninja,” she said with a wink. “Girl, you’ve been glowing out here. I’m proud of you.”

I felt my cheeks flush with something warm and happy. “Thanks. I feel… like I actually belong. Like maybe I found something that fits.”

“You didn’t find it,” Irene said, leaning against the bench. “You made it fit. You carved it out. From the moment you stood up and said we deserve to practice, you’ve been creating your place. And now look at you. You’ve got a mini-squad and everything.”

Mela and Trish both raised their brows proudly.

“Darn right,” Mela said. “We adopt fast.”

“You guys are the best,” I said, meaning it with every word. “I don’t know where this is going yet, but… I’m glad I’m not walking it alone.”

Trish offered her hand, palm up. “Then let’s keep walking together.”

I reached out and slapped it with mine, smiling like the sky had cracked open with light.

Maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t just chasing a dream anymore.

I was building one—with them.