Rivals? Rivals!

The official start of Inter-High is one week away, and to say that everyone participating is busy would be an understatement. Schools prepared for months, and athletes even started practicing years beforehand, then again, practice never ends, unless you’re out of high school and decided to stop playing basketball. Though, to most, that would be ridiculous.

There are a lot of things that people are looking forward to seeing once the event start. Aside from the regular plays, there’s also the match among the kings, but in the end, it’s always the king of the south, Gwangju High, against Yongsan International, the school proclaimed to be the best in Seoul.

However, for the past years, Yongsan had always been the champion, both in Inter-High and Winter Cup. Which makes it reasonable for the team to be highly respected, their ace player and captain, Shin Hoseok—who prefers to be called Wonho—is in his senior year, which makes this season his last play. And that adds to the team’s resolve to be the remaining champion.

“Don’t worry too much, we’re going to win.” He laughs lightheartedly, seeing the serious expressions on his teammates’ faces.

Yugyeom, a freshman who was good enough that he’d been able to join the first string, says, “We can’t be too sure, hyung.” They’re currently in the gym, having a fifteen minute break that’s ending too soon for their liking. “I heard that Gwangju High recruited a strong player this year. Apparently, the kid played internationally. Hm, it was in Boston, I think?”

Wonho shrugs, seemingly unaffected. “Doesn’t matter where he used to play, He’s in South Korea now, and in here, we are the champions.” He stands up, takes one last swig of his water and claps his hands to get the attention of the team. “Alright, break’s over! First string, resume with the footwork drills! Second string, practice passing, and dribbling, go!” Orders after orders were heard, but no one complained. The news about the new recruit from Gwangju seemed to be an additional motivation for the team.

You better be as good as what they say. Wonho grins to himself as he jogs towards his team, joining the others in training.

--

Practice ended at seven in the evening.

Before they separate ways, going to the convenience store for some cold treats had been a habit for Wonho and his team, and that night was no different.

“Ahh, why am I paying for you guys?” It was more of a complaint and less of a question, though a smile forms on Wonho’s face when he hears the childish laughter of his teammates. He enters the store, makes a beeline towards the ice cream section, and was about to slide open the freezer when he noticed a short guy standing in front of a shelf filled with candies, which happened to be just beside the ice cream freezer.

The boy looked serious and confused at the same time, lower lip jutted out and a finger tapping his chin. From his position, Wonho can hear the boy humming to himself.

And maybe it was curiosity that made Wonho clear his throat, loud enough to get the boy’s attention. “Uh, are you okay there?” The boy blinked, tilting his head to the side as if he didn’t understand what Wonho said, and, much to Wonho’s amusement, it was proven right when the boy asked him if he could repeat it in a rather polite way even.

“Oh!” The boy smiles, and scratches his cheek. Wonho guesses it’s a gesture the boy makes when he’s embarrassed. “I am okay, thank you for asking. I am sorry for I am not good with speaking ‘normal’ Korean just yet. It has been a lot of years since I last spoke the language, thus, I am rusty.” He chuckles softly, his tone surprisingly deep despite his youthful face.

Upon closer inspection, Wonho did notice the foreign atmosphere surrounding the boy. If he may add, Wonho finds the boy cute, adorable even, what with his lightly flushed cheeks and too formal way of speaking (he’s lowkey bitter since his juniors rarely speak to him politely).

Wonho smiles reassuringly, sliding the freezer open to take out a bunch of papico ice cream (later, he’d deny that he’s being stingy, and insist that sharing is caring) “It’s alright, I understand you anyway.” Closing the freezer, he looks back at the boy only to see him reaching out for a box of gummy bears, standing on his tippy toes.

The ace player stifles a snicker at the amusing sight, and decides to help the other. Handing the box to the boy, whose name he still doesn’t know, he smiles. “Is this the reason why you looked grumpy earlier?” he didn’t know why he even bothered asking, last time he checked; he’s not that nosy, especially to strangers.

But he’s a cute stranger, from head to toe, completely your type. Is what Wonho’s hoe-ish mind says, and the more reasonable side of him argues with a, but he’s still a stranger nonetheless.

The boy’s answer broke his inner monologue. “Embarrassingly, yes, I was thinking about how I could reach it, since I am not tall enough.” He shakes the box a little. “Thank you for the help--?” he trails off, and Wonho was quick enough to follow, to understand that the boy is silently asking for his name.

“Oh, right. The name’s Shin Hoseok, if you’re from around here, you’d know who I am.” Well, he didn’t mean to sound like he’s bragging, wait, he actually kind of does, since he’s subtly trying to impress the cute boy. “I’m—“

“Ah! Yongsan’s ace player? It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, though it is funny to meet you in a place like this.”

Before Wonho could stop himself, he’d already asked, “Are you a fan?” to which he got a fit of (unbelievably cute) giggles in return.

“I’d like to say yes, but that would be weird coming from me. We are supposed to be rivals after all.”

Rivals. Wonho scoffs at the idea. Wait … rivals?

“…You play basketball? You? Play? Basketball? You?!” Won