Basketball System: Rebound of the Underdog

Fang didn't know where it started.

However, now that he was older, he felt that it was from the very beginning.

As soon as he was born, Fang was considered exceptional.

The 'good one.'

It was something that plenty of people had said outright.

"You're so lucky with your son. He's so well-behaved. He doesn't make a noise."

"He excels in his grades. He's quiet and does not make any fuss, unlike the other children."

"He's doing well and will continue to do well in the future!"

As soon as he was introduced to Earth, it seemed like the world just expected him to be okay.

His mother liked to tell the story of how, unlike his twin, he didn't cry when he entered the world.

"You weren't difficult at all," she'd say, ruffling his hair, her voice laced with fondness.

But he could never tell if that fondness was for him or for the ease he brought her.

His twin, however, had arrived struggling—tiny, frail, and immediately a source of concern. From that moment on, their lives took different tracks, even if no one saw it that way.

Fang didn't cry because he couldn't.

It's just that he didn't need to.

His twin's condition was the priority, and rightfully so, Fang reasoned. How could he compete with that? His brother was the one who needed the attention—the special care.

His parents never meant to overlook Fang, but slowly, they did.

Every achievement Fang reached was brushed aside, not because it wasn't impressive, but because it was expected.

"Great job, Fang," his father would say, glancing at the report card filled with straight A's. Then, he'd turn his attention back to his brother, who had struggled to pass his classes.

"You're just so good at everything," they'd add with a smile, a smile that didn't linger long enough to feel warm.

Fang couldn't help but notice that the praise was always quick, fleeting. A pat on the back, a "well done," and then the moment would pass. Meanwhile, his twin—who worked so hard and fought against limitations Fang couldn't imagine—was showered with words of encouragement. His struggles were met with concern, his smallest victories with celebration.

Maybe Fang should've understood.

He was older, after all—by at least a few minutes, that is.

He should have been proud and even empathetic.

But there was a part of him that didn't understand—that couldn't seem to understand.

A part that felt an unfamiliar bitterness when his parents doted on his brother for simply trying.

It wasn't his brother's fault—Fang knew that. Yet, sometimes, he couldn't help but wonder: why couldn't he be the one to struggle, to be noticed for just existing?

When Fang would win first place in a school competition, his parents would say, "Of course you did." When his twin managed to walk a few more steps in therapy, it was like the world stopped. He got it, really. He did. But every now and then, Fang thought, would it be so wrong if someone was a little more surprised by his success?

He wasn't sure if it was jealousy or longing. He couldn't tell if it was just a child's selfish wish to be held a little tighter or praised a little longer.

But it stayed with him. Fang had always been the "good one," but sometimes, he wished he could be something more.

Something less predictable.

Something worthy of more than just a passing smile. Find more to read at My Virtual Library Empire

Something worthy of...their presence.

"Fang!"

"Fang, come to your senses!"

The audience murmured among themselves as they watched the star player of the Huolan Guardians root his feet on the ground as the shot clock continued to tick.

"What is he doing?"

"He seems...absent-minded."

"Can someone check if Fang is okay?"

From the very back of the bleachers, someone looked very concerned, wanting to get up but not being able to do so.

"It seems like Fang Liu has a lot on his mind," Hailey chimed in a hushed tone.

"There's only four seconds left on the shot clock."

The Shizi Dogs on the court were also perplexed. It was to the point that they couldn't even steal the ball.

Just because he looked...pitiful.

Even Yuze, who definitely shouldn't pity anyone in his current state, stopped in his tracks and gazed into the younger man's eyes.

The shot clock buzzer was heard across the court, causing Fang to snap back to reality. He was about to pass the ball to Tingtai, but the referee signaled for him to pass the ball to him instead.

His eyes widened, and he looked around the court. With that, he glanced at the timer, only to see that the shot clock had ticked down.

"What," he muttered. Did he just let himself go absent-minded while the game was still ongoing?

The crowd continued discussing what had happened, with most of them questioning Fang's skills. Kai's eyebrows furrowed as he received the ball.

A lot of thoughts bombarded his mind.

He already had a hunch about what had happened to Fang and what he was thinking about.@@novelbin@@

It was something that only he knew in the team—something he kept to himself, for he only accidentally found out.

It was also the reason why Kai couldn't hate Fang despite his ever-hostile treatment of him.

It was one night when Kai was on his way home. The buses had been on strike late in the evening, and he didn't have anyone to fetch him, nor did he have any money to take a cab.

So, he wheeled himself back home.

However, who would have thought he would stumble upon a great revelation—of Fang talking to his twin in the middle of the sidewalk?

Fang was pouring out his heart and soul to his brother for always being the center of attention.

This was when Kai realized why Fang always acted that way.

And it was because his brother was the same as him.

With his back facing Kai, he still saw how Fang's brother was in a wheelchair.