Hai Minh froze mid-bite, trying to sound casual."So what? We've got plenty of skill. Plus, we've got you, right? What, international athlete losing confidence now?"
Uy Phong's tone dropped, calm but heavy."The problem isn't me. It's you guys."
"What!?" Hai Minh shouted, face turning red.
"You think I can carry this sorry team on my own?"
"HEY! That's out of line—"
He didn't finish—everyone lunged to shut him up before the nearby tables turned to stare.
Uy Phong rubbed his temples, clearly out of patience. Beside him, An Phong sat quietly, eyes flicking between Uy Phong's expression and the chaotic team.
Then Uy Phong spoke, voice cutting through the noise like a blade."Practice. Starts. Today."
Thien Hung nearly choked on his drink."Are you insane? You know what time of year it is? Finals season, man! No teacher's gonna let us skip class to play ball!"
Uy Phong shot him a look. "You don't even go to class."
"…Right. Heh. Fair point." Thien Hung scratched his head awkwardly. "Still, even if you drag me there, what about the others? Hai Minh, and those two new guys…"
A voice called out before he could finish."Oi! Someone talking about us?"
Everyone turned. Two tall figures strolled over, casual smiles on their faces.
Dat and Thanh.
Dat's grin was bright enough to light a room; Thanh walked beside him, quiet, half his face hidden behind a mask.
Thien Hung waved. "Speak of the devils! You guys got timing!"
Dat laughed. "Guess so. What's the occasion? Whole crew's here?"
An Thu chimed in eagerly. "Senpai's talking about training for the tournament!"
"Ohhh, finally." Dat nodded, eyes lighting up. "I was wondering when we'd start. Can't believe the tournament's next week and we haven't had a single practice."
Ho Nhu tilted her head, looking at Thanh. "Um, but—why the mask? Are you sick or something?"
Thanh coughed lightly. "No. Not sick."
Ngo Huy blinked. "Then why wear it?"
Thanh pointed his thumb at Dat. "Can't stand his cologne."
The table went silent—then erupted into laughter.
"Hey! Don't blame me!" Dat protested, blushing. "It's fabric softener, not perfume!"
"Yeah right," Thanh deadpanned. "Pretty sure I know what softener smells like."
More laughter burst out.
An Thu covered her mouth, giggling. "But seriously, why wear perfume to basketball practice?"
Ngo Huy nodded. "You're just gonna sweat it off anyway."
Dat grinned like a cat. "Personal preference. I like smelling good. Besides, I barely sweat—nothing to worry about, ladies."
"Ooohhh~" everyone teased in unison.
Then Uy Phong's cold voice sliced through the laughter."Done chatting? Any thoughts on what I just said?"
The noise died instantly.
"Huh? Thoughts on what?" Dat blinked, genuinely confused.
"No comment," Thanh replied flatly.
Uy Phong gave a short nod, eyes sweeping across the group."Good. Practice starts today."
He stood, slinging his bag over one shoulder. Before leaving, he glanced back at An Phong."I'm heading out. Tell the teachers for me, yeah?"
An Phong frowned slightly. "Fine. Just—take it easy, alright? You literally got discharged this morning."
Something softened in Uy Phong's gaze; a faint curve tugged at his lips."Yeah."
One word, and he was gone—his tall figure disappearing down the hallway. The rest of the team soon followed, leaving An Phong alone at the table.
He stared at the empty seat beside him for a moment, exhaled quietly, then turned toward his classroom.
***
Later — the court
Once roles were set, the gym filled with motion and sound.The squeak of sneakers. The rhythmic thump of the ball. Shouts echoing off the walls.
In the bleachers, An Thu, Ngo Huy, and Ho Nhu were on their feet, cheering like superfans.
"Hai Minh! Pass it!" Thien Hung yelled.
"Got it! Assist coming up!" Hai Minh shot back, charging forward.
Thanh moved into position behind him—tall, steady, like a moving wall—opening the lane for Hai Minh to drive straight to the hoop.
Easy shot, Hai Minh thought, grinning. This one's mine.
But then—
A whisper brushed his ear."Wide open, huh?"
A chill raced down his spine. Before he could react, the ball was gone.
"GIVE THAT BACK, YOU THIEF!" Hai Minh barked, face flushed.
Dat just laughed, dribbling fast and loose, the picture of mischief."No hard feelings!"
He darted forward, tossing the ball mid-stride."Uy Phong! Incoming!"
In a blur, a shadow leapt up.
WHUMP!
A clean slam dunk. The floor quivered when Uy Phong landed.
Dat jogged over, grinning, hand raised. "Yeah~ 5–0 already!"
"Mm." Uy Phong's palm met his with a sharp clap.
They both turned toward the other team.Each face told a different story—one sulking, one seething, and one completely unreadable.