Chapter 30 — Throwing the Ball Through the Rain

A year later, the basketball field still has cracks, but the roof is no longer leaking in the east corner. The new backboard was installed using public funds, community funds, and court rental hours were specified. Wide aisles, tool warehouse with catalogs, scoreboards with people to check. The women's team no longer has just one name on the roster; There are three time slots each week for juniors, girls clubs and free players.

Nhien has returned to the field as an assistant coach. Her knee doesn't allow her to play like before, but she teaches how to warm up, how to report pain, and how to leave the field without feeling embarrassed. Mai Chi was accepted into the provincial youth team and still comes back to practice with the team when scheduled. Phong plays defender and sometimes fixes the backboard because he can't ignore a loose screw. Bap created a set of filming rules that were borrowed by other clubs.

An recruited every weekend and became a reserve player for the provincial team. She hasn't played much yet, but has learned how to be patient, how to ask questions and how to pass to others. Every time she returned, she wrote a line in the yard book. Today's line is: “A ball goes further when not held alone.”

On the opening day of the new rainy season, the team held a friendly match with Phu Van. The weather had just stopped and the field surface reflected streaks of light. The children sat on the low basket, the adults stood on the sidelines, Nhien held the assistant whistle, and Mai Chi made a video call from the practice session. The camera was placed in a corner where it was not filmed, but the audience did not agree. Phong checked the wire, then gave An a towel.

An entered the yard, no longer the girl who returned to see a place that was about to be lost. She was part of that place, with those who asked, corrected, recorded, retracted, empowered and entered. The friendly match did not have an electronic scoreboard; They use handwritten boards so everyone can see clearly. When An passed to a sixth grader who threw the first shot, the ball hit the rim and fell. The little guy bowed his head, intending to apologize.

An raised her hand to catch the ball and said: "It's okay. Throw it back, then look to see who's empty."

Rain began to fall outside the roof. In the yard, the sound of running shoes, the sound of bouncing balls and laughter intertwine. No one narrated the match for them. Each person chooses their own position, calls their own signal and steps across the six-meter line of fear. The rainy season is still coming, but the basketball field has learned to open.

An returned from the selection session with a trial schedule and an error in writing the wrong name on the file. She called the organizers and asked to correct them before signing. The old coach said she could join the reserve team and practice three times a week in the city. An looked at the stadium schedule and saw that there were still two sessions where she could be on duty and one session where she could participate remotely. She accepted a one-month trial, not giving up her role at home.

Mai Chi also returned, with no final results yet but with many new exercises. She taught the team how to relax their shoulders, then Nhien forced them to rest when their legs got tired. Phong installed a small sign stating the opening hours for the new season. Bap updated the shooting rules, adding lines about children and passerby rights. Vy led the sixth grade group to warm up without An's prompting.

In the filing cabinet, Thu Ha has a separate compartment with confirmation of the scope of use. No one locked her story into a secret; they lock the document to protect the rights of the person who gave it. A map of the course's history is hung next to the future plans. An inconclusive landmark is still listed as “unverified,” and that does not make the map any less valuable.

On the final day, the council announced that the yard had achieved its six-month testing target. The yard maintenance agreement was renewed, with funds to repair the roof and a student representative seat at the quarterly meeting. Ms. Hanh said that chair is not a reward, but a way for users to continue to speak up. An looked at Nhien, understanding that handing over did not mean leaving the story.

In the evening, the team played a small match. An passed to Lam, Lam passed to Vy, Vy passed to Mai Chi, Mai Chi missed. The whole team laughed, then ran back to defend. A sixth grader asked An if she was sad because of her missed throw. An said a little, but there is much more to do. What are you asking? An pointed to the schedule board, where the person on duty was checking the gate and where the group of children was lining up the ball.

The rain came again, falling outside the new roof. In the yard, the ball bounces evenly through different hands. No one stands in the middle to receive all the light. A place that was once about to become a parking lot now has calls, questions and the sound of people knowing how to stop when someone is in pain. An stepped over the six-meter line, not to prove she was not afraid, but to pass the ball to the empty person.

After the small match, the team sat down to read the comments for the month. Some people want more lights, some people want to reduce the noise, some people ask if the adult class can play on Friday nights. They cannot do everything at once. Tran divided into things that are safe, things that need a budget, and things that can be tried right away. Huyen suggested testing the reflective sign, Phong checked the materials, Nhien scheduled an evaluation date.

Mai Chi makes a video call from the provincial youth team. She showed off a new ball, but also complained that practicing made her tired. An asked what she wanted the team to help her with. Mai Chi said just don't arbitrarily reserve a seat when she's not there. Nhien added that the field is open to everyone, Mai Chi can register like anyone. Mai Chi laughed, saying that was only fair.

Phong handed over the warehouse key to Lam under the supervision of Ms. Hanh. Lam read the procedure and asked who to call when the power went out. Phong answered according to the list, did not say "just call me". Edit the instructions to include the room number on duty. Looking at the handover scene, An knows a story ends well not when the characters keep everything, but when they know how to hand it over properly.

Nhien put the captain's armband in the storage box, along with the other colored armbands. She doesn't keep it private, just records the usage history. An asked if she was sad. Nhien said it was sad, but the ice would still be clean for the next person. She plans to take a coaching course, wanting to help young players report pain sooner. An said one day they would open a class together.

An begins the audition month. She practiced in the city three times, returned to the field for two days, and took one day off. One day she was tired and asked to change the schedule. The team did not ask her if she still loved the field. They asked her if she had drunk water. One time she missed a shot, the coach asked her to continue playing. An continued, not calling the slip a final answer.

At the end of the rainy season, An stood at the yard door. The new lock has been manned, the image copyright board has been replaced, the drain has been cleared, the crack is still there but there is a sign. She heard the sound of a ball and someone asking "can I film?". The question echoed through the yard, then one person replied "let me think". An smiled.

The rainy season doesn't end with a perfect throw. It ends with everyone knowing who the court belongs to, who gets in, who gets out, and who gets to stay to fix a backboard. An holds the ball and passes it through the space. The receiver catches it, looks around and passes it on.

Three months later, the board announced the shared model would be retained for the entire school year. The yard has not been completely repainted; They kept the marked cracks, added handrails and replaced the culvert. The rule board has two copies, one with large letters and one with low hanging letters. The schedule is updated every week, with the name of the person on duty and the phone number in case of trouble. There was no inauguration ribbon, just an earlier opening morning than usual.

Nhien returned to the field with a lighter brace. She hasn't played yet, but stands on the sideline and calls the signal. Mai Chi returned from the auditions, bringing with her a new way of passing. Phong handed over the tool book to Lam, then asked for an hour to play on his own. Bap doesn't turn away from anyone without asking. Huyen brought the sixth grade in, spoke slowly and let them choose color cards. People who used to stand in different positions now form one queue without jostling.

An received the news that she was retained on the city team for next season. She read, smiled, then opened the yard calendar before answering. There are two overlapping sessions. She texted the coach to change the session, and at the same time sent Tran a list of tasks she would hand over. Nhien looked over and asked An if she was scared. An said yes, but fear now has a name, a time, and someone to handle it with. If Nhien says so, just go.

On the last afternoon of the season, An stood under the tightened basketball board. The rain was drizzling, the field's surface reflected a streak of gray sky. A child asked if she could try throwing it. An asked if he wanted to stand near or far, if he wanted someone to pass or if he wanted to throw it himself. The child chose to throw, but the ball hit the rim and bounced out. The child bent down to leave, but Huyen gave the ball back and asked whether she wanted to try one more time. She nodded.

The second time, the ball went over the net. No one shouted too loudly. Nhien held up the circle, Phong gently tapped the board, Bap recorded the time, and An took a step back to let the child receive his own applause. She understood that the rainy season had taught them what a victory could not: sometimes the way to love a place is to make it safe enough for others to throw the first shot themselves.