Basketball System: Rebound of the Underdog

A thousand thoughts ran through Kai's mind.

So, it wasn't sabotage after all.

As Mr. Liang ordered him to shoot once more, Kai focused on Fernando's movements more intently.

His eyes were glued to Fernando's every movement—nonchalant, grumpy, and never showing much emotion except for constant displeasure.

The ball left Kai's hands, and there it was—the observation he merely guessed a few moments ago coming to life.

Fernando's hands, steady as they tried to seem, held a slight tremor when he adjusted his rifle. It was faint, just a momentary fumble, but it was there.

And Kai didn't miss it.

His fists clenched, glancing at the torch basket at the far end of the gym.

It was a pretty long distance—impressive, really, how he'd managed to sink it every time.

Mr. Liang was impressed by his consistency, too. However, he was displeased that they had never once lit the torch on fire, so that feeling was quickly overshadowed.

As expected, Fernando missed the shot.

With that, Kai prepared to shoot the ball once more.

At this point, Kai had practiced the shot so often that his body moved instinctively, the trajectory burned into his muscle memory. He had nailed it so many times now that even the subtle arc and the flick of his wrist felt natural.

It was a consistent trajectory—one that should be easier to shoot.

But Fernando…

Kai turned his gaze back to the older man, who had his rifle resting against his shoulder, expression sour as ever.

The distance Fernando had to hit was longer than Kai's. About fifty meters. A shot that needed to fire mere milliseconds after Kai's throw, meeting the ball perfectly mid-air to ignite the torch basket.

The timing was impossible if the shot wasn't precise.

And the problem that Kai concluded was that Fernando's shots were always early.

The fire would shoot through the air and fizzle out before it could connect with the ball's rubber surface.

Kai's brain churned with possibilities.

"If there was a way to make my shot faster," Kai muttered under his breath.

If he could just throw the ball with a bit more speed, then maybe Fernando wouldn't need to fire so early. Maybe it would buy him that sliver of time—those critical milliseconds that made all the difference.

Kai opened his mouth, ready to suggest something, but Mr. Liang's sharp voice cut him off.

"Alright, that's it!"

The words echoed through the gym. Mr. Liang clapped his hands together, startling everyone.

Fernando didn't even look up as he started to pack up his rifle, his movements deliberate and slow.

"Wait!" Kai stepped forward quickly, holding the ball close to his chest. "We need more time to figure this out—just one more round."

Mr. Liang turned to him, his brow furrowed so deeply it looked as if it might swallow his eyes. "We've already wasted enough time. I have other performers waiting for me, Kai. I can't dedicate my entire day to this circus act."

"But we're close," Kai insisted, desperation heard in his voice. "If you just let us try a few more times, I think we can—"

"Kai." Mr. Liang's tone was final, his eyes hard. "It's over. There are only so many hours in a day, and we have an entire opening ceremony to prepare for. I can't wait for you two to get it right."

Kai's mouth opened to argue, but Mr. Liang was already turning on his heel, his footsteps echoing as he marched toward the exit. "Wrap it up," he called over his shoulder. "We're done here."

Kai stood in stunned silence, the rubber basketball pressing against his chest. The door to the gym slammed shut, leaving behind a silence that felt even heavier than Mr. Liang's disappointment.

Slowly, Kai turned to Fernando, hoping to at least convince him to keep practicing. But the old man was already at his bench, disassembling the rifle with steady hands.

"You're packing up?" Kai asked, his voice quieter now.

Fernando didn't respond. He didn't even glance his way. The only sound was the faint clink of metal as he broke down his equipment and placed it neatly into his bag.

Kai watched him, frustration boiling in his chest. How could Fernando just give up like that? Didn't he care? Didn't he want to figure this out?

"Hey," Kai said, stepping closer, "we're not done yet. We still have time to practice. The opening ceremonies is the day after tomorrow, and we have no time to practice tomorrow because the other delegates are already arriving."

Fernando's hands stilled for just a second before he resumed packing, the silence heavy between them. Finally, he spoke. "There's no point."

Kai's brows knitted together. "No point?"

Fernando didn't answer. He zipped up his bag and slung it over his shoulder, walking past Kai without so much as a glance.

"Wait!" Kai's voice rang out sharper than he intended, causing Fernando to pause mid-step. "Don't you care at all? If we mess up, it's not just me who looks bad—it's you, too. Your reputation's on the line."

Fernando's shoulders tensed. For a moment, Kai thought he might turn around, but the older man just let out a faint, bitter laugh. "Reputation? I've got nothing to prove to anyone, kid."

And with that, Fernando walked out of the gym, leaving Kai standing alone.

Kai let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He looked around the empty gym, at the silence Fernando had left in his wake, then down at the ball still in his hands.

It felt heavier now, as though the weight of the entire ceremony rested solely on him.

His eyes drifted to the backboard and the torch basket above it. Then, his gaze dropped lower, landing on the faint bullet marks scattered across the walls and floor. They were everywhere—tiny black smudges that marked every single miss Fernando had made.

Kai stared at them for a long moment before glancing back at the ball.

Slowly, he tilted his head to the side, his mind racing.

'If the problem isn't me,' he thought, his fingers tightening around the ball, 'then maybe I'm still the one who needs to fix it.'