After the final bell, my plan is simple: escape before Kai finds me. I’ve already mapped the route—back stairwell, shoe lockers, freedom.

Unfortunately, Kai is faster. Literally.

“There you are!” His voice booms down the hallway like a spotlight. A couple of guys look up, and I immediately duck my head, wishing I had invisibility powers.

He jogs up, still in his blazer but already carrying a duffel bag slung over one shoulder. His grin could blind a man. “Come on. You’re coming to practice.”

“No.”

“Yes.” He grabs my sleeve before I can bolt. “You promised.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did. With your eyes.”

I stare at him flatly. “…What?”

“Exactly.” He doesn’t let go, steering me down the hall. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to play. Just watch. I’m amazing. You’ll see.”

By the time we reach the gym, I’ve given up resisting. It’s easier to let him drag me than to cause a scene. The gym smells like polished wood and sweat. Guys are already warming up, bouncing basketballs that echo too loud in my ears.

Kai waves at them, then points me toward the bleachers. “Stay. Don’t disappear. I’ll know.”

I slump onto the bench, pull my hood up, and scroll through my phone. Background noise, I tell myself. Just noise.

But then Kai starts moving.

He’s not lying—he really is amazing. For someone his size, he’s fast. He weaves between teammates, dunks like gravity is optional, laughs when someone shoves him in mock frustration. His voice carries across the court, loud and bright, and people respond to it like it’s second nature.

I hate to admit it, but I can’t look away.

“Who’s the ghost?” one of his teammates asks during a water break, nodding toward me.

Kai grins. “That’s Neru. He’s with me.”

The words slam into my chest harder than a ball to the ribs. With me.

I pretend not to hear, head ducked, but heat crawls up my neck.

Practice goes on, and I find myself… not bored. The rhythm of the game is hypnotic, and Kai keeps glancing up at me, like he’s checking to make sure I’m still there. Every time, he smiles. Every time, I look away.

When it’s finally over, Kai trots up, sweaty and beaming, hair sticking to his forehead. He tosses a towel around his neck and leans over me. “So? Impressed?”

“You’re loud.”

“That’s a yes.” He laughs, shoving me lightly on the shoulder. “Thanks for staying. Means a lot.”

I open my mouth to deny it, but the words won’t come out. Because the truth is—I did stay. And for reasons I don’t understand, I don’t regret it.

On the way out, Kai falls into step beside me, like always. His bag thumps against his leg, his hair is a mess, and he’s still glowing from the game.

“Next time,” he says casually, “I’ll teach you.”

I snort. “Not happening.”

He just grins wider. “Bet you a manga volume it will.”

And just like that, I realize I’ve somehow been drafted onto his team—even if I never set foot on the court.