Chapter 11 — The Arrow That Missed the Mark

Part III — Regional Tournament

Teacher Kien posted the official lineup list on the club's notice board one morning in early November, and Thanh Tam stood in front of that board for a long time, his heart pounding when he saw his name in the three-person team representing the school participating in the team event — along with Nam Khanh and Binh.

"The team lineup includes Do Nam Khanh, Ly Thanh Tam, and Tran Quoc Binh," Mr. Kien read out loud to the whole club in the meeting that afternoon. "The three of you will compete in the three-person team event, while also participating in your own individual event. This year's regional tournament has two rounds — the qualifying round takes place in the next two weeks, and the regional final round will take place a month later, for teams and individuals who qualify. The results of the final round will determine which teams and individuals qualify for the Provincial Student Archery Championship at the end of the second semester."

That news made the atmosphere in the club meeting room become lively, excited chatter rang out everywhere. Thanh Tam glanced at Nam Khanh and saw that he was also looking at her with encouraging eyes, and Binh jumped up and down with joy, patting the shoulders of both his new teammates.

"The three of us are a team," Binh grinned. "It will definitely be fun."

"You talk like it's not worth going out," Thanh Tam said, although inside he couldn't help but smile at Binh's infectious optimism.

"Competing should be fun," Binh replied, shrugging his shoulders. "Too much stress will only make your shooting worse, right, Khanh?"

"That's right," Nam Khanh nodded and smiled. "From now until the qualifiers, I will focus on private training for my teammates on Wednesday and Saturday afternoons, in addition to the normal club schedule. I want all three of us to get used to the rhythm of real competition — shooting in rounds, under time limits, with pressure from the surrounding audience."

The first practice session under the new schedule took place that Wednesday afternoon, and Nam Khanh had prepared a scenario to simulate actual competition conditions — a stopwatch next to each shooting line, a two-minute limit for each volley of three arrows, and he also invited a few other members of the club to observe to create the feeling of an audience.

"It sounds a bit strange," Nam Khanh explained when he saw Binh's slightly confused expression before this elaborate preparation, "but the feeling of competing is very different from normal practice. If I don't get used to the pressure of time and the eyes of viewers from now on, on the actual competition day, my psychology will easily be disturbed."

Thanh Tam stood in position and clearly felt the difference right from the first seconds - the countdown clock ticking in her ears, the eyes of a few people watching behind her, all created an invisible pressure that she had never experienced in regular practice sessions. She raised the bow, trying to apply the same practiced procedure—breathing, pulling the string, anchoring, letting go—but her hands trembled slightly when she heard the timer tell her there were thirty seconds left.

The first arrow flew, landing in ring seven, much lower than her usual performance. She bit her lip, trying to stay calm, reminding herself of what Nam Khanh once taught — not letting one bad shot affect the next. She took a deep breath, fired the second shot, this time into ring nine, and the third shot into ring eight.

"Not bad for the first time practicing under time pressure," Nam Khanh commented after all three completed their first set of shots. "All three kids' average scores are a little lower than normal, that's normal. The important thing is that I learn this feeling now, so that on competition day, I won't be surprised."

The training session continued with many more simulated firing rounds, and gradually, all three began to get more used to the time-pressured rhythm. By the end of the session, Thanh Tam's score had stabilized and returned to near normal levels, although she still felt a certain amount of tension every time the countdown timer sounded.

"The feeling of competing in real life is definitely much more stressful than this," Thanh Tam said to Nam Khanh as they were packing up after practice, her voice a bit worried.

"That's right," Nam Khanh admitted, not hiding it. "But do you remember what I said? It's not about losing fear to shoot well, it's about learning how to shoot well despite still being afraid. Pressure will always exist in any competition, what you can control is how you react to it, not the pressure itself."

Thanh Tam nodded, those words became a familiar guideline that she always repeated to herself whenever she felt confused. She looked at Nam Khanh, saw the constant calm confidence on his face, and wondered if she could achieve such a stable mental state before the actual competition day.

That evening, returning home, Thanh Tam received a text message from her mother relaying a conversation from the family chat group, in which Thanh Van wrote: "Mom, I heard that Tam is about to compete in the regional tournament? I will try to arrange to visit home on that occasion, I haven't seen her compete live in a long time."

Reading that text message, Thanh Tam felt a familiar contradiction rising in her heart - half happy because her sister cared and wanted to come cheer for her, half worried because she knew that Thanh Van's presence, even though it came from love, also meant that she would have to compete under the eyes of the person she had always implicitly compared herself to for many years.

She put down the phone, sat quietly for a moment at the desk, trying to sort out the messy emotions in her heart. Part of her wanted to text and tell her mother not to let Van come home, afraid that the pressure would make her perform worse. But another, deeper part, really wished her sister could witness the journey she had gone through in the past few months — not just the scores, but the whole process of learning to see herself differently.

She opened her notebook and wrote down her confused thoughts. "Sister Van said she'd come back to watch me compete. I don't know whether to be happy or worried. Maybe both. I think this will be a real test — not just of archery technique, but of whether I've truly learned to separate the love of family from the pressure of comparison. I hope I'm ready, but I also know, maybe I'll only know for sure when I'm standing in front of the shooting line, with Ms. Van sitting in the audience."

She closed the book and lay down on the bed, her heart still mixed with many different emotions. The regional qualifiers are only two weeks away, and Thanh Tam knows that short period of time will be an important stepping stone, not only to hone her technique, but also to prepare her mentally for a much bigger challenge that lies ahead — the challenge of competing under the eyes of the sister she spent her entire childhood admiring and comparing herself to.

The next morning, before class, she told Yen Thao about Ms. Van's message, sitting on the classroom hallway steps while waiting for the drum to start class. Yen Thao listened, her face slightly thoughtful before speaking.

"I think this might be a good opportunity," Yen Thao said, her voice considering. "Not for you to prove anything to Ms. Van, but for her to see how much you have changed. Before, you joined this club because you wanted to prove yourself to her. Now, if she comes back to watch, you have the opportunity to show her a completely different Thanh Tam - not a Thanh Tam trying to catch up with her shadow, but a Thanh Tam walking on her own path."

"Sounds good," Thanh Tam replied, sighing lightly. "But I'm afraid that when I stand in front of the shooting line and see her in the crowd, I'll return to the old Thanh Tam - the Thanh Tam who only knows how to clench her fists and blame herself every time she loses her mind."

"You just remember what Khanh taught you," Yen Thao said, patting her friend's shoulder encouragingly. "You've come a long way, Tam. Don't let an old fear make you forget all you've learned."

Yen Thao's encouragement helped Thanh Tam feel more confident, and she brought that mood with her to the practice session that Saturday afternoon - the second competition simulation practice session of the week, this time with increased intensity and time pressure to prepare more closely for the upcoming qualifying round.

During the training session, Mr. Kien was also present to observe and give additional feedback to all three team members. He paid special attention to Thanh Tam, stopping to watch her shoot a series of three arrows before speaking.

"You've improved a lot compared to a few months ago," the teacher commented, sounding satisfied. "I still remember when you first joined the club, if you lost your mind for a moment, your face would fall. Now I see that you still react when you shoot the wrong way, but you recover much faster and don't let that emotion carry over to the next shot."

"I'm still trying," Thanh Tam replied, smiling, feeling warmed by the teacher's sincere comment.

"That's enough effort," Mr. Kien said, nodding. "I believe our team will do well in the qualifying round. The most important thing is to keep this spirit, don't let outside pressure shake what you have built over the past few months."

Those words of encouragement, along with the companionship of Nam Khanh and Binh, helped Thanh Tam enter the final two weeks of preparation before the qualifying round with a much stronger mindset than she had imagined when she first heard about the tournament. Although the worry about Ms. Van's presence still remained, she began to believe that, with careful preparation both technically and mentally, she could face the challenges ahead with a better version of herself.