Basketball System: Rebound of the Underdog

Fang's heart stopped when he saw who it was.

Minyu.
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In his wheelchair.

His dad stood behind him, and his mom was next to his dad, her arm looping through his.

The court seemed to fall silent, the post-game chatter fading into nothingness.

The Huolan Guardians, still lingering by the bench, turned their heads in surprise.

None of them had known Fang had a brother. No one had ever heard him mention family. They only knew he came from a well-off one based on his clothes and items.

And yet, there they were—Minyu, his dad, and his mom—walking toward him as though they had always been a part of this picture.

Kai, on the other hand, also watched from the middle of the court. He heard what Minyu called Fang. "Bro," he muttered.

And then, it hit him. Was Minyu the faceless brother that he met in the past?

Fang's breath caught in his throat. His feet felt glued to the floor, refusing to move.

'What are they doing here?' he thought.

His mind raced. They'd never come to any of his games before. Not even once since he entered high school.

Fang felt a strange, twisted sense of humiliation burn in his chest.

As they reached him, Minyu looked up at Fang with a shy, uncertain smile, and their dad took a step forward. Fang felt his stomach tighten with nerves. He hadn't been this close to them in so long.

"Why are you guys here?" Fang's voice was rough, unsteady. He didn't know what else to say.

His dad didn't answer right away. Instead, he stepped closer, and before Fang could process what was happening, his father wrapped him in a hug.

A real hug.

Fang froze. His father wasn't the type to hug him. In fact, the last time his dad had hugged him might've been years ago.

But now, as his father's arms tightened around him, Fang felt the warmth, something unfamiliar and strange settling into his chest. His throat tightened, and for a moment, he couldn't breathe.

His mother followed suit, gently wrapping her arms around the two of them. She held Fang like she hadn't in years, and Fang—stunned and confused—couldn't remember the last time he had felt this. This closeness. This warmth.

And something inside him cracked.

"We're sorry," his father said. "We're so sorry, Fang."

Fang stiffened, pulling back slightly to look at his dad's face, confused. "For what?"

"For letting you be," his mother said softly. "For letting you be good, and calm, and alone… for so long."

The words hit Fang like a punch to the gut. His parents' faces were filled with regret and sadness but with love, too.

"We thought… because you were good at everything, that you were fine," his father continued, his voice breaking slightly. "We thought that because you were so calm, that you didn't need us as Minyu did."

Fang felt his chest tighten even more, his heart clenching at their words. A part of him had been waiting to hear this for so long, and yet now that the words were here, he didn't know what to do with them. His head lowered, and his hands clenched into fists.

"I'm used to it," he whispered as a reply.

His mother's hand touched his cheek, tilting his face up to meet hers. There were tears in her eyes, and her thumb brushed softly across his skin.

"You don't have to be used to it, Fang," she whispered. "You don't have to be strong all the time. We should've seen that."

Fang's chest heaved with a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. His heart ached in a way that was both painful and relieving. He felt years of pent-up anger, frustration, and sadness bubbling beneath the surface.

"I didn't even win," he muttered, his voice thick with bitterness. "I couldn't even do that."

But his father shook his head, gripping his shoulders firmly. "It doesn't matter. Winning, losing—none of that matters to us, Fang. What matters is you."

Fang's world felt like it was crumbling; the carefully built walls he had constructed over the years were starting to collapse. He had spent so much time believing that his worth was tied to his success, to being the best, to win so that maybe, just maybe, his parents would see him. But here they were, telling him that none of that had ever mattered.

It was then that Minyu spoke, his voice soft and hesitant. "Thank you."

Fang turned to look at his younger brother, who was still sitting in his wheelchair, looking up at him with gratitude, which made Fang's throat close up.

"For what?" Fang asked, his voice hoarse.

"For telling them to let me go to school," Minyu said. "For always being a good brother… even when you didn't have to be. For protecting me even if you don't show it."

Fang blinked, taken aback. His mind flashed back to all the times he had spoken up for Minyu and fought for him when their parents had been too overprotective.

Fang felt his pent-up anger and jealousy toward Minyu start to dissolve. It wasn't Minyu's fault. None of it was.

"Minyu's the reason we're here," their mother said softly, her hand still resting on Fang's cheek. "He made us realize how much we were missing… how much we were missing you."

Fang swallowed hard, the emotions overwhelming him. He glanced over at Kai, who stood a few feet away, watching the scene unfold with a small, knowing smile on his lips.

For the first time in a long time, Fang felt seen. Truly seen. And as his parents and Minyu stood by his side, he realized that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as good as he thought.

He still needed this.

Rui, standing a distance away, watched the whole scene unfold. His blood ran cold.

"Bro? Minyu?" he muttered. "That guy is Fang Liu's brother?"

When Rui thought he still had a small chance to make it back to the team, then that chance was ruined.