AN: Thanks for the reviews. I really loved them. And hopefully the
compliments won't get to my head. LOL! My ego is already quite big. Anyway,
here is a little epilogue to wrap it up. I hope you enjoyed my story. Thank
you again and fare well. Until next time. (Which may be quite late. I have
nothing specific in mind just yet.)
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Lee stood on the podium and looked about him. The flags were ascending, slowly and solemnly. Yet the flag in the middle and highest position was not the familiar sheet of flame with the gold stars in the corner, nor the music accompanied it the aspiring march his ears had accustomed to hear. And for the first time in four years, his team, and the nation behind him, was not standing on the highest podium. The flag of Japan was the one ascending to the highest position, its usual sheet of white with the red sun in the centre. How eye-piercingly stark! Lee thought.
For a short while his mind went back to a scene in the distant past, when he was but a small boy of seven or eight. His village had purchased a 15 inches television from the city. It was set in the community room, on a ancient table of mahogany wood, almost revered because its fascinating strangeness. Adults and children alike crowded around the device; eager to watch its wonders unfold. Lee remembered distinctly the first thing he watched on TV. It was a volleyball match between China and Japan, the match to determine the champion. China lost, by three points only maybe, but a loss nonetheless. It was the same scene, Lee thought. The flag with the red sun rising to the highest, and its chauvinistic music accompanying the ascend of the sun.
How angry he had been back then! He fumed, and in his childish words declared he would grow up to be a great athlete and never let the same thing happen again. The other children chorused his opinion. But Ray, who was already radical at that tender age, did not voice his agreement. He merely tilted his head and looked at Lee meaningfully. Lee did not capture the importance of that look years ago, but he was beginning to see now.
The halt of the music brought Lee back to the present. Some meticulously dressed gentlemen were bringing up the medals. Lee recognized one as the mayor of Nanjing, the other the head of the National Sports Association. His team received their metals silently, like they always did. The Blade Breakers seemed much more enthusiastic about their gold metals, well, the three younger members of the team were at least. Ray seemed quiet, and somewhat held back. Lee did not turn and look, but he sensed a faint tension as the mayor of the city put the last gold medal around Ray's neck.
"I think most people would agree with me that you are the one who brought this scene to us, a scene we would rather not see on this day." Lee heard the mayor spoke quietly, and out of the corner of his eyes saw Ray stiffen ever so slightly.
But Lee also saw a small smile on the old man's face as he clapped Ray's hands in his own, saying, "But I see your heart is in the right place, my boy. And I loved your speech."
The audience slowly joined in a standing ovation. The applause was mediocre, not wildly joyful or ecstatic, but in a way respectful and solemn. They seemed disappointed, and maybe a shade angry, but there was a new understanding in the air. The music sounded again, echoing in the stadium. To Lee's ears, it still sounded chauvinistic, proud and stubborn, but he had heard something new there. He suddenly noticed how similar those notes sounded to the music of his own nation. There was a closeness, almost a brotherly bond. And he understood. That must be what Ray heard so long ago, through that small, black-and-white TV screen.
The applause had stopped, and people were beginning to disperse. The two hours' traffic of the stage had come to a stop. He noticed Ray there, standing with his team, and being congratulated by many people, including even Mariah and Gary. He walked towards him, and called, "Ray."
Ray turned towards him, the faintest uncertainly in his golden eyes.
Lee smiled, and said quietly, "You are good, Ray. You are very good." With that he extended his hand.
Ray smiled too, and every last remaining of his doubt and tension evaporated. "Thanks, Lee." He said, and clapped the hand of his long-time friend, who was lost to him, and found again.
There are many feuds too old to dwell on. Let go, and you shall discover a whole new world.
THE END
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Lee stood on the podium and looked about him. The flags were ascending, slowly and solemnly. Yet the flag in the middle and highest position was not the familiar sheet of flame with the gold stars in the corner, nor the music accompanied it the aspiring march his ears had accustomed to hear. And for the first time in four years, his team, and the nation behind him, was not standing on the highest podium. The flag of Japan was the one ascending to the highest position, its usual sheet of white with the red sun in the centre. How eye-piercingly stark! Lee thought.
For a short while his mind went back to a scene in the distant past, when he was but a small boy of seven or eight. His village had purchased a 15 inches television from the city. It was set in the community room, on a ancient table of mahogany wood, almost revered because its fascinating strangeness. Adults and children alike crowded around the device; eager to watch its wonders unfold. Lee remembered distinctly the first thing he watched on TV. It was a volleyball match between China and Japan, the match to determine the champion. China lost, by three points only maybe, but a loss nonetheless. It was the same scene, Lee thought. The flag with the red sun rising to the highest, and its chauvinistic music accompanying the ascend of the sun.
How angry he had been back then! He fumed, and in his childish words declared he would grow up to be a great athlete and never let the same thing happen again. The other children chorused his opinion. But Ray, who was already radical at that tender age, did not voice his agreement. He merely tilted his head and looked at Lee meaningfully. Lee did not capture the importance of that look years ago, but he was beginning to see now.
The halt of the music brought Lee back to the present. Some meticulously dressed gentlemen were bringing up the medals. Lee recognized one as the mayor of Nanjing, the other the head of the National Sports Association. His team received their metals silently, like they always did. The Blade Breakers seemed much more enthusiastic about their gold metals, well, the three younger members of the team were at least. Ray seemed quiet, and somewhat held back. Lee did not turn and look, but he sensed a faint tension as the mayor of the city put the last gold medal around Ray's neck.
"I think most people would agree with me that you are the one who brought this scene to us, a scene we would rather not see on this day." Lee heard the mayor spoke quietly, and out of the corner of his eyes saw Ray stiffen ever so slightly.
But Lee also saw a small smile on the old man's face as he clapped Ray's hands in his own, saying, "But I see your heart is in the right place, my boy. And I loved your speech."
The audience slowly joined in a standing ovation. The applause was mediocre, not wildly joyful or ecstatic, but in a way respectful and solemn. They seemed disappointed, and maybe a shade angry, but there was a new understanding in the air. The music sounded again, echoing in the stadium. To Lee's ears, it still sounded chauvinistic, proud and stubborn, but he had heard something new there. He suddenly noticed how similar those notes sounded to the music of his own nation. There was a closeness, almost a brotherly bond. And he understood. That must be what Ray heard so long ago, through that small, black-and-white TV screen.
The applause had stopped, and people were beginning to disperse. The two hours' traffic of the stage had come to a stop. He noticed Ray there, standing with his team, and being congratulated by many people, including even Mariah and Gary. He walked towards him, and called, "Ray."
Ray turned towards him, the faintest uncertainly in his golden eyes.
Lee smiled, and said quietly, "You are good, Ray. You are very good." With that he extended his hand.
Ray smiled too, and every last remaining of his doubt and tension evaporated. "Thanks, Lee." He said, and clapped the hand of his long-time friend, who was lost to him, and found again.
There are many feuds too old to dwell on. Let go, and you shall discover a whole new world.
THE END