The sting of a humiliating first-round playoff exit with the Port Osea Divers was still fresh in her mind. Himeko wiped the sweat from her forehead, leaning against the drinking fountain outside Victoria's National Stadium.

  "Excuse me, miss?"

  A voice approached from behind, unfamiliar enough to instantly raise her guard.

  "Do you happen to know if miss Elena Vance will be attending the Olympic training today?"

  Male voice, subtly deep but not overly deep, carrying a distinct and rich tone. He asked about Elena "Elle" Vance, the reigning Finals MVP of the Victoria Divas, "the pink Diva", a massive star in the league with an even bigger "personality." He sounded like just another admirer. The exact type Elle wouldn't look at twice.

  Himeko turned, expecting to look down. Instead, her chin tilted up... way up to a man, who clad himself in a black hoodie that shadowed his face, save for a few white strands spilling over the bridge of his nose. The hoodie did little justice in holding back the silhouette of an absolute unit that he was, his wide shoulders and the thick cords of his neck flexed beneath the collar.

  For most women, this physique might have prompted a shift in tone - something polite, shy, or perhaps even flirtatious. But Himeko took her own personal privacy policy very seriously. Her eyes narrowed as her lips curved into a dismissive sneer, she gave a curt response.

  "Elena's training. She doesn't do fan meet-and-greets during hours."

  Without giving the man a chance to reply, Himeko turned and jogged away.

  Inside the stadium, noise was constant, sneakers squeaking against hardwood, balls hammering onto the floor.

  Himeko sat on a bench near the sidelines, taping up her fingers. She was focused on the task until someone blocked her light.

  "Is this spot taken?"

  Himeko looked up to see Zoe Weaver standing there, the new face of the Kora Angels. With her silvery-white hair and pale, crystal-colored eyes, Zoe looked fragile. Like she was made of glass or porcelain, the kind of girl who might shatter if she took a hard spike to the chest. But Himeko knew better.

  "All yours," Himeko said, shifting her gym bag.

  Zoe sat down, sighing, resting her cheek on her palm.

  "Intense out there, isn't it?"

  Himeko nodded, her eyes drifting to the center of the stadium where monsters - Ivanka Symphony, Jennifer Anista, Mikaela Stone alike, were warming up.

  Dead last. That was Zoe's draft pick for the Olympic squad, much to the critics' shock that she even made it. It didn't help her imposter syndrome when standing shoulder-to-shoulder with actual deities. But Himeko wasn't buying into the skepticism.

  Drafted in the bottom ten of her class, she had spent more than half her professional life as a bench warmer, a nobody. Most players would have quit. Some would have faded into the lower divisions. And the rest would have played in a foreign league. But Zoe had stayed. She had crawled her way into the starting lineup of the Angels only two years ago through sheer resilience.

  Himeko recognized that resilience as she recognized grit. In a league dominated by genetic freaks and tactical geniuses, Zoe was proof that hard work could still buy a ticket to the big show. "A dimly lit star," she was, perhaps, but a star that shone with a consistency that would last until the end of her career.

  "I snuck in through the back door, didn't I?" Zoe murmured, watching Ramona Valentine jump, vertical clearing the height of an average adult.

  "Not an imposter, Zoe." Himeko said with a firm voice.

  Zoe blinked at Himeko's words then lightly chuckled to herself.

  Before Zoe could respond, a shadow fell over them both. This time it felt much larger, heavier.

  "Sorry if I interrupted," the deep voice returned, this time Himeko had it in her memory.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Himeko looked up with an uninterested expression. Standing there, now in his prideful red uniform centered by a stylistic lettering that read "Victoria Dragons", the kit did little to hide the towering, athletic frame of the stranger from the fountain. Without his hoodie, his features were sharp, wearing a half-smile that looked a bit too comfortable for the cold shoulder she had just given him.

  Zoe's eyes went wide, her hand went up to her mouth instinctively. "Kevin... Marvant?" she breathed.

  Kevin Marvant?

  The name clicked instantly in Himeko's mind. Captain of Victoria Dragons. Reigning Men's Finals MVP. "The Fox". She had seen his faces on the billboards, commercials, energy drink cans, and highlight reels that played on loop in the gyms. She admitted to herself then that she knew exactly who he was, she just hadn't cared enough to pay attention outside.

  Kevin offered a polite nod to Zoe, but his gaze quickly settled back on Himeko, looking amused.

  "You know." He said, leaning forward slightly. "I was just asking question back there, didn't have to cut me off."

  Himeko stared back, maintaining her ground.

  "You asked for Elena, she's right there." Himeko said, nodding toward the flock of people, staff and athletes alike with Elena laughing in the center. "If you're actually a player and not a fan, go say hi."

  Kevin blinked, surprised by the continued wall of ice. He opened his mouth to speak, perhaps to explain that he didn't come with any hostile intentions, but Himeko gave him zero openings.

  She stood up abruptly, grabbing her water bottle.

  "Now," she said, turning her back on the MVP without a second glance. "I have practice to do."

  She walked onto the court, leaving the stunned superstar and the young star sitting in her wake.

  Kevin watched Himeko's retreating figure, eyebrows raised. Standing there for a moment, Kevin's hands on his hips, watching as she blended into a players' drill, focus snapping back into place as if their interaction had never happened.

  He let out a low, short whistle, then turned his gaze back to the bench.

  Zoe was staring at him, looking as though she might apologize on Himeko's behalf. But before she could let out a word, Kevin gave her an easygoing grin and took the seat Himeko had just vacated.

  "Well," Kevin rubbed the back of his neck. "That went about as well as a serve into the net."

  "I'm sorry. Himeko is... is very focused."

  Kevin waved a hand dismissively. His face softening. "By the way, you're Weaver, right? Number 14 for the Kora Angels."

  Zoe froze. Her mouth opened, then closed, shocked.

  "Y-You know me?"

  "Yea, I've watched a few of your games," Kevin said. "One against the Devils last season. Your position is great. It seems like you have excellent spatial awareness."

  Zoe's cheeks flushed. Being noticed by the whole world was one thing, but being noticed by the best was...

  "I-I'm just trying my best. It's our job, right?"

  "Mhmm," Kevin agreed. Then he tilted his head toward the court where Himeko was jumping to block a spike.

  "So. Is she always... so reserved with everyone else? Or just with me?"

  "Himeko isn't that cold," Zoe said softly. "She's actually very nice. When my shoelace broke during the tryouts, she gave me a spare pair."

  Kevin listened to her words. His pleasant smile gradually turned into thoughtful contemplation.

  "It's just... She treats the media, fans, and... well, strangers... like distractions. It's like she creates a wall, avoiding everyone. She just wants to get back to work."

  Zoe looked at Kevin again, trying to hold a giggle she didn't know if it was impolite. "I think she might have categorized you into 'obstacles to her work'."

  Kevin smiled.

  "Welp, I better get back to grinding," Kevin said, pushing himself up from the bench. "Else, we'll be strangers forever."

  Zoe smiled as she watched Kevin depart, tilting her head, wondering exactly what he meant by that.