Off the Team (Bow)
| Off the Team (Bow) | |
|---|---|
| Date of Cutscene: | 14 November 2024 |
| Location: | Sports Pavilion |
| Synopsis: | Bow tanks his way off of the Archery team for reasons. |
| Cast of Characters: | Bow |
The arrow flew with a soft hum, landing just outside the bullseye, a deliberate act of modesty wrapped in precision. Bow felt the subtle shift in his grip and stance, the careful control to temper his skill rather than flaunt it. Radiant Heart Academy's archery lane was alive with the sounds of tensioned strings and quiet concentration, but for Luke Armbruster, otherwise known as Bow, it was a place where the stakes had shifted. His earlier fervor to impress had mellowed, the excitement of standing out tempered by the quiet satisfaction of simply belonging.
As his gaze shifted from the target to the onlookers, he wondered if any of his classmates noticed the subtlety in his performance, a slight deflection that showed enough skill to be competent without standing out too brightly. Those who knew him well might recognize the skill behind his restraint, the discipline it took not to simply aim for the perfect score. Bow exhaled, grounding himself in the moment, feeling a strange, bittersweet pride in his choice to fit in without overshadowing.
The coach fixed Bow with a sharp, assessing gaze, his fingers tapping thoughtfully on the papers in front of him. "I've been watching your scores lately," he began, his tone even but laced with curiosity. "Come see me after practice."
"Oh, sure!" Bow called back, preparing to find another arrow as he went through his practice routine.
Sometime later, Bow knocked on the coach's door. Once bidden to enter, he opens the door, "You wanted to see me?" he asks the coach, who gestured to a seat in front of the desk.
"Come take a seat, Armbruster." the coach offered as he flipped through some charts. "When you arrived here, you scored some of the highest scores I've seen at this school. While you need to work on your Kyūdō, your work with the short bow was excellent."
"Thank you, coach." Bow started to say, then pausing as the coach stayed him for a moment.
"But I've noticed your scores dipping as of late. And that you're having trouble with your classes. You're in remedial courses for World Geography, and your math and English scores are good, your Language Arts needs work. Is everything okay?"
Sitting there for several moments Bow thought about his answer before finally settling on the one that sat closest to the truth. "I guess I'm just a little homesick, sir." he finally admitted.
And he was. He missed Etheria, missed it with an ache so deep it almost felt like a physical wound. He missed the wide, open spaces, the wild, untamed lands that stretched out endlessly beneath skies unmarred by towering glass and metal. He missed the forests, thick with ancient trees whose branches intertwined like welcoming arms, the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze, and the soft earth underfoot, carrying the fragrance of pine, moss, and rich soil.
He missed the small, quaint villages where each person had a story, where faces were familiar, and life moved to a rhythm as natural as the rivers that wound their way through valleys and hills. The air was alive there, buzzing with magic and connection, resonating with the hum of Etheria’s heart. There was a soulfulness in those lands, a feeling that every tree, every creature, every stone and brook held meaning, history, and beauty.
Tokyo had its own kind of magic, a vibrant, electric pulse that Bow could appreciate on its own terms. But the city was loud, unyielding, and full of walls that blocked out the sky. The neon lights and crowded streets held no comfort for him; they didn’t speak the language of nature or freedom. Tokyo's beauty was fleeting, manufactured, whereas Etheria’s beauty was timeless, growing wild and unchecked, connected to something ancient and elemental.
But it wasn’t just the landscape he missed. He missed her. The one he had grown up alongside, the one whose path had become so different from his own. He missed watching over her, being close enough to protect her and share in their struggles, as they had done so many times before. Now he was an observer, forced to stand apart and play a role that twisted his insides, pretending to be something he wasn’t. The distance gnawed at him, a quiet pain that resurfaced in moments he least expected, reminders of the person he cared for yet could no longer protect. And at the same time, he was proud to watch her flourish and bloom, so far away from home and instead of hiding, she had come out on her own. It was bittersweet.
The weight of it all settled heavily on him, turning nights into stretches of melancholy spent with his violin, pouring out the ache and frustration into notes that floated through the air like whispers of Etheria’s lost forests.
He was so caught up in his thoughts, that Bow almost missed the words of his coach. "...it would do you some good."
"I'm sorry." Bow offered sheepishly. "I was distracted for a moment." he admits. "What was that?"
"I suggested that we put you in the reserves of the team. Take some time, see if you can get your head on straight. When you figure it out, you can try out again. I don't want to see you come apart because you can't focus on the present."
"Focus on the present." Bow repeated. That made sense. She asked him to be her knight from afar. And as much as that hurt, he knew he didn't have a choice. Because facing his feelings didn't seem to be going that great. "...sure. I can do that. I'm sorry I let you down." A bow of his head was offered in apology, arms at his side.
The coach gave Bow a firm nod, his expression softening. “It’s not about letting me down, Armbruster. It’s about making sure you’re ready to bring your best, for yourself and for the team. Take this time to settle whatever’s weighing on you. When you’re ready, I know you’ll come back stronger. Come by, help some of your teammates, maybe even mentor some of the younger students. It could spark your interest again."
Bow managed a small, appreciative smile. “Thank you, Coach. I’ll make the most of it.” As he left the office, Bow felt a mixture of relief and resolve. Focusing on the present would be challenging, but he owed it to himself to try.
