One-on-One

The next evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, its golden light stretched across the city, casting long shadows over the outdoor courts.

Once again, Moyun was there, drenched in sweat, perfecting his footwork and executing one fadeaway jumper after another.

His focus was unwavering—at that moment, it was just him and the ball.

As expected, Shiro showed up once more.

He stood quietly on the sidelines, watching every move Moyun made, a hint of admiration flashing through his eyes. He quickly realized that Moyun's style was almost a mirror image of Kobe Bryant's. Seeing that, Shiro nodded slightly.

"You're a big Kobe fan, huh?" Shiro finally spoke as he approached.

His voice was calm yet carried an undeniable presence, the kind that made others instinctively listen.

Moyun didn't respond. Instead, he executed another shoulder fake into a fadeaway. The ball arced beautifully through the air and splashed through the net—pure perfection.

Shiro chuckled. He could tell that this guy had his own pride, his own reasons, and wouldn't be easily swayed. So, instead of pushing, he switched gears.

"I'm Kawakami Shiro, from the school's basketball team."

Hearing the introduction, Moyun finally stopped. He looked up at Shiro, his expression unreadable, before replying in an indifferent tone, "I know you. The ace of the Generation of Miracles."

It was the first thing he had said to Shiro, but his voice remained distant and detached.

"And you?" Shiro asked.

"…Xu Moyun. Same year as you"

The moment Shiro heard that name, his eyes lit up. Without hesitation, he switched to fluent chinese.

"You're from China?"

Xu Moyun's eyes flickered with surprise. "Yeah… Didn't expect you to speak chinese."

Shiro smiled. "China is an amazing place. I took the time to learn."

Of course, that was just an excuse. In truth, he had been chinese in his past life. But there was no way he could tell Moyun that without sounding like a lunatic.

Fortunately, Moyun seemed to believe him. His expression softened, and the air of cold detachment around him faded slightly.

Shiro took this opportunity to make his move.

"You've got skills. Ever thought about joining the team?" he asked directly. "If you're interested, come find me."

But Moyun immediately shook his head. "Not happening."

Shiro wasn't surprised by the rejection, but he was curious. "Why not? Something holding you back? If it's a problem, maybe I can help."

Moyun paused before answering, "No real reason. Just don't want to" His tone was polite but firm.

Shiro nodded, respecting his decision. "Fair enough. If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me."

He hesitated before throwing out another offer.

"There's a big match coming up in Tokyo — a showdown between two Generation of Miracles players. Want to go watch?" His eyes were full of sincerity. Truthfully, he just wanted to get to know Moyun better, maybe even convince him to join the team.

Moyun hesitated before responding, "I'll think about it."

It wasn't that he didn't want to go. He loved basketball, loved watching top-tier players battle it out. But he also had to be careful—his mother disapproved of him playing, believing it would distract from his studies.

Shiro could sense his reluctance, but he wasn't giving up that easily.

"You've got serious skills. How about a one-on-one?" he suggested, flashing a teasing grin. "You straight-up rejected me yesterday, so you can't run this time."

Moyun tensed. If he got too into it and started sweating, his mother might notice when he got home.

His mother had never been supportive of his basketball ambitions. She tolerated it in middle school, but since entering high school, just getting a few shots up on an empty court felt like a luxury.

Moyun was torn. On one hand, he didn't want trouble at home. On the other, the fire inside him — his hunger for competition — was impossible to ignore.

He glanced at Shiro, who was watching him closely, as if he already knew what was going through his mind.

"Don't worry, we'll just keep it light" Shiro said, casually patting his shoulder. "Nothing too intense."

Moyun felt his resolve slipping.

Then Shiro added, "Or are you scared?"

It was a classic trash talk move, but Moyun didn't bite. His expression remained cool as he replied, "That won't work on m."

Even so, his eyes betrayed him — there was a glint of competitive fire. After all, he was still just a high schooler. And Shiro wasn't just any player — he was the top-ranked player from middle school, the ace of the Generation of Miracles.

Deep down, Moyun wanted to test himself. He wanted to know how he measured up.

Finally, after a moment of silence, he exhaled and said, "Alright. Let's see what you've got."