Snap!
Yako snapped her fingers.
"Hm?"
Reiko frowned. "What was that about? The proposal's thick enough to choke a horse—did she just give up on reading it altogether? Then why the dramatic finger snap?"
Before Reiko could ask, a figure emerged from the corner of the gym, as if materializing from thin air.
"Miss Masako"
The man bowed respectfully to Masako, then nodded politely at Reiko.
"Thank you for coming, Mr. Okada" Araki said kindly before standing to pour herself a cup of tea, also handing one to Reiko.
But Reiko's eyes were fixed on the man called Mr. Okada.
Okada had already picked up the proposal, sat down on the edge of the sofa, pulled a pair of glasses from his pocket, and began reading word by word.
Reiko blinked, baffled, and glanced at Araki leaning against the wall, silently asking what was going on.
Sipping her tea, Araki said casually, "Mr. Okada is my father's personal attorney. I borrowed him to review the contract for us—I can't read through all this fine print without getting a headache."
Okada chuckled softly. "Please don't say it like that, Miss Masako. It's an honor to work for the Araki family."
Reiko's eyes widened. Memories clicked into place.
"Wait… could you be that Okada Motota? Tokyo's top lawyer twenty years ago? The one they called Japan's Number One?"
Okada set the proposal down, scratching his stubble with a wry smile.
"What's this? Even a young lady like you's heard of my old stories?"
Reiko nodded, half in awe.
Two decades ago, a lunatic had tried to rob an armored truck—snatched 2 billion yen! Caught red-handed, evidence piled to the ceiling, the court sentenced him to 18 years without blinking.
And then came this man—this legend. Okada found a single slip in the witness testimony, a crack in the timeline, and boom—case overturned, defendant acquitted. The guy walked free.
After that, Okada became the guy for impossible cases: high stakes, sky-high fees, zero shame. Didn't matter if you were a gangster or a murderer—if you paid enough, Okada got you off the hook.
But fifteen years ago, after one last impossible case… he vanished. Like he'd been erased from the earth.
Some whispered he was dead.
Okada laughed gruffly.
"Back then I was too young, too greedy… chasing money, forgetting everything else."
As the saying goes: A man dies for wealth like a bird dies for food.
When a brilliant lawyer sells his soul to defend evil, the law might stay silent—but enemies don't.
Reiko suddenly understood why this legend was now working for the Araki family—the only ones powerful enough to shield him after making so many enemies.
Araki clapped her hands sharply, snapping everyone back.
"Enough nostalgia. Mr. Okada, time to work."
Okada straightened up instantly, focus returning as he combed through the proposal with surgical precision.
Reiko swallowed. This was the man who found cracks in "ironclad" cases. If there was a trap in the fine print, he'd find it.
Half an hour later, Okada closed the file, removed his glasses, and told Yako:
"No problems. Terms are fair. No hidden tricks."
Reiko exhaled in relief.
"Thank you, Basketball Federation."
Araki dismissed Okada with a nod, then turned back to Reiko, her eyes softer now.
If the proposal had tried to swindle Kota, Reiko might not have left this gym alive today.
Araki finally spoke: "Our sincerity's clear, isn't it?"
Reiko smiled confidently.
But Araki wasn't done.
"One more thing. Kota has no bias against your country… but can you promise your federation, your youth team, everyone will have no bias against him?"
The room fell quiet.
Racial prejudice—nasty, common, often ignored.
Reiko hesitated. She'd expected this question, but it was still tough.
"Honestly… no, I can't promise everyone will like him," she admitted. "But I can promise this: if he goes abroad, our country will protect him better than anyone else."
Truth always beats empty promises.
Araki nodded slowly. "Fine. Second condition: he's too young to live alone. He needs someone to handle his daily life over there."
Reiko blinked. "Uh… that's… not really in the rules."
"Rules aren't the problem" Araki said firmly. "I can't follow him myself. He needs someone trustworthy. Preferably family."
Reiko suggested weakly, "A… housekeeper, maybe?"
"No" Araki cut in. "He doesn't speak the language. I don't want some stranger tricking him. Find someone you trust."
She handed Reiko a check.
"I'll pay for everything—salary, expenses. Extra's yours."
Reiko grabbed the check, ready to rip it dramatically and storm out in protest at the insult—
Then she saw the number.
"…Deal, Araki."
...
"I'm home"
The door to the Shark Gym swung open.
Kota shouted this out of habit the moment he stepped inside, but he instantly regretted it.
On the couch sat Reiko, her eyes darting rapidly between Araki and Kota with a strange look.
If Reiko remembered correctly, in Japan, people usually shouted that kind of thing when they got home.
Could it be… these two…?
Reiko's expression went blank as her brain started filling in the blanks with its own story.
Araki calmly picked up a disposable cup from the table and took a slow sip, but judging by how much the cup bent, she was clearly less calm than she looked.
"Cough, cough."
Kota cleared his throat awkwardly and slowly walked over to sit next to Araki. If he wasn't mistaken, the woman across from him was probably the interviewer Araki had set up for him.
Weird… she looks kind of familiar.
Reiko finally snapped out of her daze, and seeing Kota studying her face, she smiled politely.
"Hello, Mr. Kota. I'm Tajima Reiko, but just call me Reiko."
Kota nodded. "Nice to meet you, Miss Reiko. I'm Kota. Call me whatever you want."
Reiko shook her head, correcting him, "You've got it wrong, Mr. Kota. This isn't our first meeting."
She even winked at him playfully, keeping up the "cute girl charm offensive".
Unfortunately for her, Kota didn't react at all. He just squinted, studying her face carefully, before realizing,
"Oh, you're that reporter who interviewed me before, right?"
Huh? Not working?
Reiko was surprised. Most high school boys would be at least a little flustered under her charm, but this guy? Nothing.
Her eyes flicked over to Yako, and then it all clicked.
"Yep, that's right. You've got a good memory, Mr. Kota."
Despite all her inner thoughts, Reiko kept a warm, professional smile. Years as a reporter had trained her well.
Araki glanced at the clock on the wall, stood up, and stretched.
"You two talk. I'm going to make dinner."
She nudged Kota's leg with her foot. "What do you want to eat?"
"Steak."
"Denied. You've been cheating on your diet too much lately."
"What?! That's unfair!"
Ignoring his protests, Araki walked into the kitchen. She only asked out of habit—what he ate was obviously up to her.
Across the table, Reiko watched all this with wide eyes. Her jaw dropped, and even her reporter smile slipped for a moment.
She knew it. These two… there had to be something going on!!!
"Miss Reiko? Miss Reiko?"
Noticing her blank stare, Kota waved a hand in front of her face.
Reiko snapped back to reality and gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Mr. Kota. I didn't sleep well last night."
She quickly pulled herself together, placing a document in front of him.
"This is the proposal from our Basketball Association for recruiting foreign players. Please take a look."
She paused, then added, "Araki has already reviewed it."
Kota nodded casually and opened the proposal, pretending to read it seriously.
But whether it was in this life or the last, he was still just a student who hadn't been beaten down by society yet. Sure, he was more mature than most his age, but there were limits.
Honestly, he had no idea how to read this thing properly.
But the fact that Araki had already reviewed it put him at ease. If there was a problem, Miss Reiko here would probably already be on a plane back to Indonesia.
So, even though he didn't understand a thing, Kota kept flipping through the pages while making small talk.
"Miss Reiko, are you from China? You said 'our country' earlier."
Reiko paused. She wasn't sure what Kota's impression of China was, but then realized—this was her chance to find out.
"That's right," she replied lightly. "I'm a basketball reporter from China, assigned here by my company. The name Tajima Reiko is just one I picked for Japan. Sounds nice, right?"
But her eyes stayed sharp, watching Kota carefully. "My real name is Shi Yimin"
She spoke her real name in Chinese.
Kota's pupils shrank slightly. The moment he heard it, the Chinese characters popped into his head automatically.
So, he could understand Chinese even though he was Japanese now? Time for a little experiment.
"Shi… Yi… Min…"
He tried to say it out loud. He knew exactly how to pronounce it in his head, but his mouth had no muscle memory for it.
So he could understand it, but if he wanted to speak fluently, he'd have to learn from scratch.
Kota licked his lips, already making plans to relearn Chinese once he got to China.
Being a foreign player who could actually speak the language would be a massive advantage.
Reiko saw all the little changes in his expression and quietly breathed a sigh of relief. At least for now, Kota didn't seem to have any negative feelings toward China.
"By the way, Mr. Kota, do you have any free time soon?"
"Huh? I guess so. Why?"
"If you can, why not visit our national youth team in China next week?"
"Huh?"
Kota blinked. He didn't expect that.
Seeing his expression, Reiko smiled and explained, "Since we're recruiting you, it's only fair to let you see our national team for yourself."
"Of course, you can't officially change your nationality until you're an adult—after high school, basically. But before that, we can reserve a spot for you on the national youth team."
Her tone was sincere, like she really had his best interests at heart.
But Kota understood the real meaning: they wanted him to prove himself to China's Basketball Association.
From the game footage alone, Reiko was 100% convinced of his skill…
…but the national youth team wasn't a joke. Especially not now, when China's sports industry was finally stepping into the spotlight.
In the past, rich kids could buy their way onto the youth team. Now, those spots had become the ultimate goal for the country's rising basketball stars.
With just a few game tapes, Reiko didn't have enough ammo to convince the association to give Kota a spot.
"I get it, Miss Reiko. I'll prove myself."
Kota stretched his neck and smiled faintly.
Yesterday, after Araki told him everything, he had looked up China's basketball scene in this world and watched a bunch of national team games.
His conclusion?
They weren't hopeless… but let's just say he wasn't impressed.
China had just wrapped up its tech-boom era and was now going all-in on sports. Even elementary schools were adding more athletic training.
PE teachers, once "sick" for 364 days a year, had finally risen from the ashes!
But no matter what, progress took time.
For this new era of sports, Kota could confidently declare:
The national team was whatever. The youth team? Even worse.
Just a bunch of benchwarmers fighting for scraps.