The Voice Of Doubt

The walk back to the locker room was the longest walk of Eren's life.

Confetti rained down from the stands onto his back. All over his suit.

Some pieces of glitter and paper got into his hair.

Like the tournaments, this too was a long standing tradition.

They celebrated the opening contest almost as much as the final bout. The beginning and the end side by side.

Despite the throbbing in his head and the pain at his side, a part of Eren still could not believe he had opened the games, that he had won, too.

Maybe I am dreaming, He thought. Maybe Drake hit me so hard that I am still in a coma.

He feared that he would wake up any time from then, swaddled in a hospital gown, gasping for air with oxygen starved lungs.

But he trudged all the way to the locker rooms and nothing happened.

No awakening. No drawing on the air for breath.

The announcer's voice kept booming over the intercom and Eren dragged his unwilling body, wondering where the exhaustion had emerged from.

The doors clo