“You’re a high schooler, you serve,” the male said blandly, his gaze sweeping over Gu Jin.

Gu Jin’s hand, holding the ball, tightened. The other party’s words clearly implied that he was not a high school student.

He looked up at the male, a slight curve on his lips: “Let’s play rock-paper-scissors. I don’t want to take advantage.”

The male raised his eyebrows, as if surprised, then scoffed, “Alright, let’s play rock-paper-scissors. Alternating serves, first to five points, how about it?”

Gu Jin nodded and raised his hand, making a gesture.

Their hands paused in the air, then fell simultaneously—Gu Jin threw cloth, and the male threw rock.

“Looks like luck is on your side.” The male tossed the ball to Gu Jin, retreating to the defensive position. “Serve it up. Let’s see what the number one high schooler in Kanagawa Prefecture can do.”

Gu Jin caught the ball, his fingertips gently tapping its surface.

The afternoon sun grew more intense, the court’s concrete surface scorched hot, and a dry, hot air permeated the atmosphere.

He dribbled and started, the basketball making a steady thumping sound on the ground, as if striking the prelude to this competition.

The male’s defense was solid, his center of gravity extremely low, arms spread wide, firmly blocking Gu Jin’s breakthrough routes.

Gu Jin tried to change directions left and right, but the other party’s footwork always followed closely, without the slightest flaw.

Suddenly, Gu Jin stopped short, abruptly pulled the ball in and jumped. The male immediately followed, jumping to block, their shadows overlapping instantly on the ground.

Just then, Gu Jin’s wrist gave a slight flick, and the basketball arced through the air, evading the male’s block and precisely falling into the hoop.

“A floater? Not bad.” The male landed, wiped the sweat from his face, his eyes burning with even greater fighting spirit. “My turn.”

The moment the male received the ball, his fingertips seemed to have suction cups; the basketball spun lightly in his palm, then shot out, skimming the ground.

The dribbling speed was astonishingly fast, not driven by brute force, but by the extreme precision of his fingertip control over the ball—each tap landed perfectly in a defensive gap, the basketball like an orange lightning bolt, brushing past Gu Jin’s ankle.

Gu Jin immediately moved sideways to block, but the other party’s footwork was faster than his dribbling. A behind-the-back dribble, using the momentum of a turn, actually slipped through his armpit.

By the time Gu Jin turned around, the male had already driven into the restricted area, slightly arching his back in the air, flicking his wrist to loft the ball towards the hoop.

The basketball grazed the backboard, steadily dropping into the net.

“1:1.” The male curved his lips as he landed, spinning the ball on his fingertips. “How’s that touch, still impressive?”

Gu Jin said nothing, picked up the ball, and dribbled a couple of steps.

That last layup indeed had an absurd touch; the spin angle of the ball when it left his hand was almost designed to hug the inside rim, clearly an instinct cultivated from years spent on the court.

It was Gu Jin’s turn to serve. This time, he didn’t give the other party a chance to get close, dribbling two steps before suddenly stopping short and jumping for a pull-up jumper.

The male’s block was like a shadow, but Gu Jin’s release point was higher than expected. The basketball, with a strong backspin, swished through the net.

“2:1.”

The male suddenly accelerated the moment he received the ball, his dribbling rhythm becoming erratic, sometimes like a fierce storm, sometimes abruptly pausing.

Gu Jin’s defensive center of gravity was swayed left and right by him, and in a moment of distraction, the other party suddenly accelerated and changed direction, his shoulder almost brushing Gu Jin’s chest as he darted under the basket. Instead of a layup, he paused in the air for half a second, waiting for Gu Jin’s block to commit, then flicked his wrist to scoop the ball in from the side of the backboard—a stylish reverse layup.

“What a master!” Gu Jin’s eyes narrowed slightly, a storm raging in his heart!

“2:2.” He shook his wrist as he landed, a bead of sweat from his temple dripping onto the ground, creating a small dark spot.

For the next two points, the two men seemed to be locked in a fierce contest.

The male’s dribbling became even more elusive, his ball-handling so good it was as if he and the basketball were one. The ball spun against his wrist during changes of direction, and it seemed glued to his fingertips during breakthroughs. Several times, Gu Jin’s fingertips touched the ball’s surface, but he evaded them with a subtle wrist movement, forcing a path through the defensive gaps.

Gu Jin responded with superior physical conditioning and shooting consistency: a strong drive followed by a Euro step layup, and a baseline turnaround jump shot.

4:3.

It was the male’s turn to serve. He took a deep breath, his dribbling rhythm slowed, but his eyes shone with astonishing intensity.

Suddenly, he executed a wide change of direction followed by a behind-the-back dribble, almost shaking Gu Jin off by half a step, then fiercely accelerated towards the hoop.

Gu Jin gritted his teeth, chasing on defense. Both jumped almost simultaneously, engaging in a fierce aerial contest.

The male performed an in-air pump fake to evade Gu Jin’s first block, and just as he was about to shoot, Gu Jin, with his exceptional hang time, managed to raise his arm further, his fingertips finally touching the ball!

The basketball flew out of bounds. The male landed, pounding the floor in frustration.

On his second serve, the male shot directly.

“4:4.”

Gu Jin panted, his chest heaving violently.

This was the opponent with the best ball-handling he had ever seen, without exception.

For the final point, Gu Jin stood with the ball outside the three-point line.

The male’s defensive center of gravity was even lower, his eyes locked onto Gu Jin’s every move.

Gu Jin suddenly accelerated for a breakthrough, dribbling with his left hand towards the restricted area. The male immediately moved sideways to block, and the two met in the air again.

This time, Gu Jin did not choose to shoot.

Facing the male’s block, he suddenly pulled the ball behind his head, his body almost twisting into a bow in mid-air, then erupted with astonishing power, grabbing the ball with both hands and slamming it fiercely towards the hoop—

“Bang!”

With a deafening roar, Gu Jin, over the male’s body, slammed the basketball into the hoop!

As they landed, both staggered.

The male stood in place, looking at him with a smile in his eyes, and tugged at the corner of his mouth: “5:4… You won. That was a truly satisfying game!”

Gu Jin wiped the sweat from his face, looking at the other party: “Now can you tell me who you are?”

Hiejima Den bent down to pick up the basketball that had rolled to his feet, tapping the sweat-covered surface a couple of times with his fingertips, then suddenly looked up and laughed, the curve of his eyes still holding the lingering warmth of their recent contest: “My name is Hiejima Den. In a few days, you’ll see my name in the newspapers.”

Gu Jin had just caught his breath, and at his words, raised an eyebrow, reaching up to wipe the sweat from his temple: “I’ll remember that name.”

“Oh, by the way, Gu Jin,” Hiejima Den suddenly pulled a marker from his backpack and handed over the basketball he was holding. “Could you sign it for me?”

Gu Jin was stunned, looking at the basketball and pen offered to him, and couldn’t help but curl his lips: “Huh? You’re not going to say you’re my fan, are you?”

“It’s for my younger brother.” Hiejima Den tapped the basketball with his fingertip, a softer tone entering his voice. “He’s still an elementary school student, but he looks up to you as an idol.”

“Your brother?” Gu Jin took the pen, its barrel a little slick from the sweat in his palm.

“Yes, his name is Hiejima Shin.” Hiejima Den gazed at the distant streetscape, his voice a little softer. “He watched me play since he was little, but he never showed any interest.

Last time, he happened to catch your solo game in the Public Welfare Cup on TV, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the screen. Ever since then, he’s been holding a basketball every day, contemplating it, saying he wants to play like you when he grows up.”

Gu Jin’s hand, holding the pen, paused. He suddenly felt that much of the aggression from that last dunk had dissipated. He lowered his head and signed his name on the side of the basketball. In the rustling sound of the pen tip gliding across the ball’s surface, the faint sound of wind blowing through distant leaves mingled.

“Tell him for me,” Gu Jin handed the signed basketball back, his fingertips gleaming in the sunlight, “to shoot beautiful shots, he first needs to master the fundamentals.”

After they both left, Gu Jin smiled, then suddenly froze.

Hiejima Shin? Likes playing basketball because of me?