Bab 75: Chapter 75: Victory & Redemption

But he didn't let it faze him. He had expected this. Arjun was always aggressive at the start, pushing hard to force his competitors to chase him.Rohan knew better than to take the bait. He stayed where he was, keeping Arjun within sight but not wasting energy on trying to catch him yet. The race was long, and he needed to conserve his strength for the final push.By the second lap, the pack began to spread out. The weaker runners fell behind, leaving only the top contenders in the lead group. Rohan could feel the intensity building around him, the pressure mounting as the race progressed. His legs burned with effort, but it was a familiar burn, one he had learned to embrace. This was where the mental training kicked in. He focused on his form, on his breathing, on the feel of the track beneath his feet.As they entered the third lap, Rohan made his move. He shifted gears, increasing his pace and closing the gap between himself and the leaders. His body responded, his legs driving him forward with renewed energy. He could hear the crowd growing louder as he pushed past one runner, then another, until he was right behind Arjun.The final lap was upon them.The bell rang, signaling the start of the final lap, and Rohan could feel the intensity skyrocket. His heart pounded in his chest, his legs burning with the effort, but his mind was clear. He had been here before—this was the moment that would define the race. The crowd was on its feet, the noise deafening as the two rivals rounded the first turn.Arjun was still in the lead, his powerful strides carrying him forward with the same confidence that had won him so many races. But Rohan was right on his heels, his body moving with precision, his eyes locked on the finish line ahead. He had timed his push perfectly, and now, it was time to finish strong.As they entered the back straight, Rohan surged forward, pulling up alongside Arjun. The crowd roared as the two runners ran side by side, their strides perfectly matched. For a brief moment, it felt like old times—their rivalry, their determination, pushing each other to the limit. But this time, there was something different.This time, Rohan wasn't chasing.He was leading.With 200 meters to go, Rohan found his final gear. He pushed harder, his legs screaming in protest, but he ignored the pain. He could see the finish line now, the white tape stretching across the track, and he knew that this was his moment. Arjun, sensing Rohan's surge, tried to respond, but Rohan had already made his move. He was too strong, too fast.With every ounce of strength left in his body, Rohan sprinted toward the finish line, his arms pumping, his breath coming in ragged bursts. The crowd's roar was deafening, but Rohan blocked it out. All that mattered was the finish line.And then, in one glorious moment, he crossed it.The sound of the crowd erupted around him, but Rohan barely heard it. He slowed to a stop, his chest heaving, his body trembling with exhaustion. But he didn't care. He had done it. He had won.Rohan looked up at the scoreboard, the numbers confirming what he already knew: he was the national champion once again. He had beaten Arjun, he had beaten the doubts, and he had proven to everyone—most importantly, to himself—that he was truly back.

Rohan stood there for a moment, letting the reality of his victory sink in. The pain in his legs faded to the background as adrenaline surged through his veins. He could hardly believe it. After all the months of struggle, the fear of never returning to his former glory, here he was—standing victorious at the National Championships.

As he walked off the track, the noise of the crowd was overwhelming, a cacophony of cheers and applause. But amidst the chaos, he heard something more meaningful: his name, chanted by the spectators. "Rohan! Rohan! Rohan!" It was a sound he hadn't heard in years, and it filled him with an indescribable sense of pride.

He spotted Ms. Mehra waiting at the sidelines, her expression as stoic as always, but her eyes gleaming with pride. When he reached her, she didn't say much—she rarely did—but the way she nodded was all the validation Rohan needed.

"You ran a smart race," Ms. Mehra said, her voice calm but with a warmth that Rohan rarely heard from her. "You didn't just rely on your speed. You out-thought him. This wasn't just about coming back—it was about showing what you've become."

Rohan smiled, wiping the sweat from his face. "I learned from the best," he replied, his voice filled with gratitude. Ms. Mehra had been with him through it all—through the injury, the rehabilitation, the tough love, and the moments of doubt. She had pushed him, believed in him when he struggled to believe in himself.

"Enjoy this moment," she said, her tone shifting to one of gentle warning. "You've earned it. But this is just one race. There's a lot more to come, and now the target on your back is even bigger."

Rohan nodded, knowing full well that the road ahead was still long. But for now, he allowed himself to bask in the victory. He turned to look at the stands, where his family stood. His parents, Rahul, and a group of close friends were waving and cheering, their smiles wide and beaming with pride. The sight of his family brought a lump to Rohan's throat. He had spent so long wondering if he'd ever get back to this moment, and now, he was able to share it with them.

He made his way over to them, and as soon as he reached the barrier, his mother threw her arms around him, tears streaming down her face. "I'm so proud of you, beta," she whispered, holding him tightly. "You've come back stronger than ever."

His father's eyes shone with pride as well, though his handshake was firm, restrained. "You did good, son. I always knew you had it in you."

Rahul clapped him on the back, grinning ear to ear. "Bhaiya, you were amazing! You didn't just win—you dominated that final lap. Arjun didn't stand a chance!"

Rohan smiled at his brother's enthusiasm, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. "Thanks, Rahul. But this was just one race."

"Yeah, but it was the race," Rahul insisted. "Everyone saw it. You're back, Rohan. The whole country knows it now."

The weight of those words settled over Rohan. He was back. The injury that had nearly derailed his career, the doubts, the fears—they no longer had power over him. He had conquered them all, and he had done it in the most public way possible.

As the family celebrated together, Rohan glanced back at the track, where Arjun still stood near the finish line. Arjun had run a good race, as always, but today, he hadn't been fast enough. The usual air of confidence that surrounded him had faded, replaced by a look of frustration.

Rohan approached him, feeling a mixture of respect and empathy. Their rivalry had always been fierce, but it had also pushed both of them to be better. Without Arjun, Rohan wasn't sure if he would have been able to rise to the level he had reached today.

"Good race," Rohan said as he came up beside him. "You pushed me harder than anyone else."

Arjun looked at him, his jaw tight, but he nodded in acknowledgment. "You ran well, Rohan. Better than I expected."

There was no malice in Arjun's voice, only the begrudging respect of a fellow competitor. They had both been through too much to hold on to petty rivalries. Both of them knew what it took to reach the top—and what it felt like to fall.

"I'm sure we'll meet again," Rohan said, extending his hand. "And next time, it might be your turn."

Arjun hesitated for a moment, then shook Rohan's hand firmly. "Maybe. But don't expect me to make it easy for you."

Rohan laughed. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

With that, the two parted ways, the rivalry between them still intact, but now with a deeper level of mutual respect. They both knew the battle was far from over. There would be more races, more moments where they would test each other's limits. But for now, Rohan had the victory.

---

Later that evening, after the celebration had wound down and the adrenaline had finally begun to fade, Rohan found himself alone, sitting on the edge of his hotel bed, staring at the gold medal in his hands. It was heavier than he remembered, not just in weight but in meaning. This wasn't just a medal—it was a symbol of everything he had fought for. The months of pain, doubt, and relentless effort had all been worth it.

He thought back to the dark days after the injury, when he had questioned whether he would ever race again. The long hours spent in rehab, the fear of reinjury, the slow, agonizing process of rebuilding his body. And yet, through it all, he had persevered.

Rohan placed the medal on the bedside table and lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He felt an overwhelming sense of peace wash over him. He had proven that he could come back from anything. And now, with this victory behind him, he was ready to look forward to the future.

He wasn't done yet. Not by a long shot. The National Championships had been a huge victory, but it was only the beginning. There were still bigger races ahead—international competitions, world championships, and one day, the Olympics. The journey wasn't over.

But tonight, for the first time in a long time, Rohan allowed himself to rest. He had earned it.

As sleep began to pull him under, Rohan smiled, knowing that the best was yet to come. He was back, and the world was watching.