Chapter 16 — The Arrow That Missed the Mark

Part IV — Missing Target

The Tet holiday passed quickly, and when the second semester began, the Provincial Student Archery Championship also officially kicked off, gathering the strongest teams from all regions of the province, taking place through many rounds lasting three weeks at the provincial gymnasium. This is the biggest tournament that Thanh Tam has ever participated in, with a scale and level of competition far exceeding the previous regional tournament.

"The first round will take place next Saturday," Mr. Kien announced at the club meeting at the beginning of the new year. "This is the knockout round, if you win you go to the next round, if you lose you stop playing. Our team's opponent in this round is quite strong, having reached the semi-finals last year, so you need to prepare mentally carefully."

That news made the team's training atmosphere much more tense than during the preparation period for the regional tournament. Thanh Tam clearly felt the pressure increasing day by day as the competition day approached, even though she tried to apply all the psychological control techniques that Nam Khanh had taught her.

What made the pressure even higher was the fact that Thanh Van, after hearing about this important round, decided to take another leave of absence to watch her sister compete, this time with more careful preparation - she also invited a few old friends who had competed in archery in high school, people who also knew "legendary Ly Thanh Van" of Ly Thuong Kiet school, to come and cheer.

"I invited some old friends to come and watch for fun," Thanh Van said over the phone when telling Thanh Tam the news, her voice full of excitement, not realizing the weight of that information for her sister. "They were very excited when they heard that I entered the provincial tournament. Everyone wanted to see the Ly family's youngest daughter compete."

Thanh Tam tried to respond in a cheerful tone, but after hanging up the phone, she sat silently for a long time, feeling a heavy pressure she had never felt before creeping into every thought. Not only her parents, not only Thanh Van, but now also her old friends, who will certainly observe her with the lens of comparison between "legendary Thanh Van's sister" and the legend himself.

"Are you okay?" Nam Khanh asked during practice that afternoon, noticing the unusual tension in the way Thanh Tam held the bow, her hands tightening more than necessary right from the first warm-up shots.

"I'm fine," Thanh Tam replied quickly, a familiar reflex of always trying to appear steadfast in front of others, even though in her heart she knew clearly that she was not fine at all.

Nam Khanh looked at her for a moment, his eyes full of worry but did not question her further, just gently reminded her. "Remember to keep to your routine. Don't let anyone out there make you forget what you've been practicing for all these months."

"I remember," Thanh Tam replied, trying to nod firmly, but inside, a vague worry had begun to take root deeper than she thought, creeping in every night before the competition, making it harder for her to sleep than usual.

The night before the competition, Thanh Tam lay in bed, unable to sleep even though she tried everything - listening to soft music, re-reading old notes in her notebook, even trying the relaxing breathing exercises that Nam Khanh had taught her. But her mind kept returning to the image of Thanh Van and her old friends sitting in the stands, their eyes following her every move, implicitly comparing with the legendary image of yesteryear.

She took out her phone, intending to text Nam Khanh to share her worries, but then put it down, telling herself that she needs to learn how to overcome weak moments like this on her own, and can't always rely on others. It was a thought that, looking back, she realized was the first step in a bigger mistake — isolating herself as soon as the pressure started to mount, instead of reaching out for the support she had learned to accept over the past several months.

The next morning, when Thanh Tam woke up, her head felt heavy due to lack of sleep, and her eyes were slightly dark even though she tried to apply light makeup to cover it. Mom immediately noticed her daughter's unusual fatigue during breakfast.

"Did you not sleep well?" Mom asked, her voice filled with worry.

"I'm just a little nervous," Thanh Tam replied, trying to smile to reassure her mother, although the feeling of insecurity in her heart still did not subside at all.

On the way to the provincial gymnasium with her whole family, Thanh Tam looked out the car window, trying to breathe regularly according to what she had practiced, but the feeling of anxiety still stuck with her, heavier than in any previous competition. Little did she know that, just a few hours later, this simmering anxiety would explode into something much worse than she ever imagined.

The provincial gymnasium appeared before her eyes, larger than any other competition venue she had ever been to - a high dome, multi-storey stands, and a sea of banners spread across the gate welcoming teams from all over the province. The bustling atmosphere of the opening day made the feeling of being small and overwhelmed in Thanh Tam's heart even more evident, completely different from the confidence she carried when entering the regional tournament just a few weeks ago.

"It's here," Yen Thao exclaimed when she met Thanh Tam at the entrance area, hugging her best friend tightly. "You look so stressed. Did you not sleep well?"

"I'm just a little worried," Thanh Tam replied, trying to smile, but Yen Thao, with her familiar sharpness, immediately noticed that something was more wrong than usual in her friend's eyes.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Yen Thao asked again, her voice really worried. "You look more tired than usual."

"I'm fine," Thanh Tam affirmed, although her voice was somewhat forced. "It's just that this tournament is bigger, the opponents are stronger, and Ms. Van also brought her friends to watch, so I'm a little pressured."

Yen Thao was about to say something more, but at that moment the organizers' loudspeaker rang out to announce that the teams were preparing to enter the warm-up area, interrupting the conversation. "Okay, you go warm up. Your family and I will sit in the nearest stands. Come on, Tam!" Yen Thao said, patting her friend's shoulder in encouragement before separating.

In the warm-up area reserved for the teams, Thanh Tam stood next to Nam Khanh and Binh, trying to perform familiar stretching exercises, but her hands kept shaking slightly every time she raised her bow to test the position, an unusual sign that both Nam Khanh and Binh noticed but no one asked directly.

Around, other teams were also warming up, the sound of the team coaches exhorting tactics, the sound of bows and arrows clashing, all blending into a tense atmosphere typical of an important competition day. Thanh Tam looked around, saw many unfamiliar faces, many different colors of uniforms from schools in the province, and the feeling of being small and out of place in a playground much larger than what she was used to made her heart feel even heavier.

"Fifteen minutes left in the match," Nam Khanh reminded, his voice trying to remain normal even though his eyes still did not leave Thanh Tam. "Do you need anything, water, or just sit down and rest for a while?"

"I'm okay," Thanh Tam replied, her voice a bit more urgent than usual. "I just need to focus a little."

She turned her back and walked out to a small, deserted corner, trying to breathe deeply according to the exercise she had practiced hundreds of times, but this time, no matter how hard she tried, her heart rate still refused to slow down, and in her mind, the image of Thanh Van and her old friends sitting somewhere on the stage kept appearing clearly, overwhelming all efforts to focus on the familiar process that she had tried to build over the past months.

She closed her eyes, trying to remember the calm feeling of that rainy afternoon practice session, the natural feeling when the arrow left her hand following the loose technique that Nam Khanh had taught, but those memories now became faint and distant, as if they belonged to another Thanh Tam, a Thanh Tam who had never faced such great pressure. She opened her eyes, looked down at her hands, saw them trembling slightly, and a familiar fear, seemingly left behind many months ago, now emerged stronger than ever, like an undercurrent just waiting for the right moment to strike.

"Thanh Tam, it's time," Binh called from afar, his voice still maintaining his usual optimism even though his eyes were a little worried when he saw his teammates' pale faces.

"I'll be right out," Thanh Tam replied, trying to force a smile, then followed Binh and Nam Khanh towards the shooting range, where her team's first match at the provincial tournament was about to begin, carrying in her heart a mixture of confusing emotions that she had never experienced with such intensity during her journey with this sport.