The first game of the finals had finally arrived.
Crowds flooded the country's biggest arena, eager to witness the opening night of the championship series. On social media, Dranred was trending alongside the mysterious new player from the Falcons — the one fans had dubbed the Anti–Shooting Star, said to be the team's secret weapon against Dranred himself.
Everyone was buzzing with excitement and curiosity, wondering who this mysterious player could be and whether he could really stop the league's brightest star.
Even before the game began, the arena was already bursting with noise and color. Supporters from both sides filled the stands, waving banners and shouting chants that echoed through the massive space. The air was electric with tension and anticipation.
Before long, the Falcons' team bus arrived. Reporters swarmed the entrance, eager to catch a glimpse of the rumored new recruit. But as the players stepped out, nothing seemed unusual — the same familiar faces, no new additions.
A few moments later, Dranred's team arrived. The crowd immediately noticed the strips of tape wrapped around his fingers — something he wasn't known to wear. Whispers spread quickly. Was he hiding an injury? Would it affect his performance tonight?
"Rosette?"
Dranred froze when he saw the young woman standing in the hallway leading to the locker rooms. He looked around — no Estelle, no James. Good. Only players were allowed in this section.
He stepped out of the locker room for a moment, and when he came back, Rosette was still there.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, walking toward her.
Rosette straightened up from where she'd been leaning against the wall and smiled.
"Red." Her smile was wide and bright — and in that instant, the heaviness in the air seemed to lift.
Dranred smiled back. "If that's the kind of smile waiting for me in this hallway, I wouldn't mind running into you here every day."
"Just a while ago, I thought my stomach was twisting from nerves," he continued, scratching the back of his head. "But when I saw your smile, it felt like everything suddenly became lighter."
"Are you trying to flatter me?" Rosette asked, one hand on her hip.
"No," Dranred said quickly, grinning. "Why would I do that? But seriously, what are you doing here? Alone? Where are Estelle and James?"
Estelle had gone somewhere with Bryan, while James was in the locker room with his team. There were too many people around, and Rosette didn't feel comfortable, so she decided to wait for them outside instead.
"But you're alone here. What if—" Dranred stopped mid-sentence, catching himself as he looked at her. He knew how much crowds frightened her—ever since that night when her parents died. He had seen her hysteria himself, the way she broke down at her grandfather's house. Deep inside, he couldn't deny that he worried about her. That protective instinct… he recognized it, though he tried to convince himself it was only because he thought of her as a sister.
"There aren't many people here," Rosette said softly. "And besides, I can always scream if—"
She froze when she felt a hand gently rest on her head. Her heart gave a sudden, unexpected thump at the simple gesture.
"You should be more careful," Dranred said quietly. "Don't stay alone in places like this. Call me if you ever need company. If Estelle and James can't be with you… I'll be here."
"Red," Rosette murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. Her heart grew uneasy at his words. She didn't understand why he was acting this way—or why it affected her so much.
"Sorry," Dranred said quickly, realizing what he'd done. His hands had moved on their own, but the words came straight from his heart. He truly wanted to be someone Rosette could rely on.
He began to pull his hand away, but before he could, Rosette clasped it with both of hers and lowered her forehead to his palm, as if in prayer.
"What are you doing?" he asked, confused.
"Casting a spell," she said with a small, shy smile, lifting her head slightly.
"A spell?" he repeated, bemused.
"It's a good luck charm," she explained. "I used to do it for my dad whenever he left for work… to keep him safe." Her voice softened, and her expression dimmed with sadness. She hadn't told Dranred yet that he would be facing her brother soon. She knew he'd be shocked if he found out—and the thought of betraying her brother's trust made her chest tighten.
Dranred noticed the sudden shadow crossing her face. He thought he had just reminded her of her painful past.
"Thank you," he said gently. "I needed that." Then, in a brighter tone, he added, "Hey, remember my promise? You were supposed to get my first autograph."
Rosette smiled faintly. "Yeah, but that was years ago. I'm sure someone already has your first autograph by now." She tried to sound lighthearted, though deep down she had hoped he would keep that promise. After all the fan sign events she'd heard about, she knew it was unlikely.
"Yeah, someone took it," Dranred admitted. "I'll introduce her to you after the game."
"Okay," Rosette said, forcing a small smile. But her voice betrayed her disappointment.
"Rosette!" Estelle's voice cut through the air as she arrived with Bryan. Dranred turned toward the sound and saw them walking together.
Estelle's eyes immediately caught the sight of Dranred's hand still holding Rosette's. Even back at the hospital, she'd noticed how close the two had become. She hated to admit it—but it bothered her.
"Estelle," Rosette said quickly, pulling her hand free from Dranred's grasp and turning toward her sister.
"Let's go. We're heading to the stadium," Estelle said, taking Rosette's hand and gently but firmly leading her away from him.
"Good luck on your game," Bryan called over his shoulder to Dranred.
"Thanks," Dranred replied, his eyes following the two sisters until they disappeared from sight. He looked down at his hand—the one Rosette had held—and smiled faintly.
"Good luck charm, huh?" he murmured, still smiling as he walked toward the locker room.
Everyone turned when he entered, surprised to see him grinning. It was the first time they'd seen that expression on him.
"Looks like something good's about to happen today," one teammate whispered, and a few others chuckled.
Dranred just shook his head, still smiling, and moved toward his gear.
"How's your hand?" his coach asked when he noticed Dranred staring at it.
The rest of the team glanced his way, worried. They hadn't forgotten the injury from before the game—and without Dranred, facing the Falcons would be nearly impossible.
"Perfect," Dranred said, still smiling at his palm.
His teammates exchanged relieved looks. "Guess we were worried for nothing," their center joked.
Dranred's grin widened.
"Time to go!" the coach called out.
"Let's go!" Dranred echoed, turning to his teammates.
"Yeah!" they shouted in unison as they headed out toward the court together.