Chapter 384: Ghost of the Past

Two days. That’s all that was left before the big match. Two days before Nash would step back onto that court and face the assholes who threw him away like a piece of trash a few months ago.

Practice for the evening had just finished, one of the last real team sessions before the big day, and you could already feel the tension in the air. The whole vibe felt heavy, like something huge was about to go down.

Most of the girls were heading to the locker rooms, laughing and arguing, looking exhausted but in a good way.

Nash hung back for a second, grabbing the last few loose balls. That’s when Rei walked up to him. She had a towel around her neck and was still panting a bit from the workout.

"Good practice," she said, stopping right next to him.

"Yeah," Nash replied, tucking a ball under his arm. "We’re ready."

Usually, Rei would just leave, but this time she lingered. She looked a bit hesitant, which was weird because she’s usually the most confident person in the room.

"You know," she said, her voice getting a bit playful, almost teasing, "it’s been a while and I’m still waiting for my turn."

Nash raised an eyebrow, looking amused.

"Your turn?"

"Since the Jade Gardens," Rei explained with a little smirk. "Technically, you still owe me something."

Nash laughed a bit and crossed his arms.

"Wait, since when were you even on the menu? I thought that wasn’t your thing. Plus, you had your chance that night, remember? In the locker room with everyone else. You didn’t dive."

"I don’t want my first time to be like that," Rei shot back, not backing down, a smile still on her face. "In the middle of a crowd, in all that mess. Not my style."

Nash looked at her for a second, and something clicked in his head. He knew Rei, he had already seen her preferences, so he knew she hated the idea of being "weak" or needing a man, and her pride was basically a wall she built around herself. But that pride had been stepped on too many times. First, she had to bow to him, and then at the Jade Gardens, she’d been put in a position where she was totally exposed in front of him.

Nash figured he knew exactly what was happening here. He thought Rei felt like she had to pay him back. Like a debt. He figured she felt obligated to let him fuck her as a "thank you" for everything he’d done for the team and for her personally. It was the same kind of "debt" Victoria had carried, that feeling that if someone does something for you, you owe them your body.

And honestly, Nash didn’t want that. Not from her. Not because she felt she had to.

He waved the idea away with a quick gesture of his hand.

"Nah, it’s chill. You don’t have to force yourself to get laid with me, Rei," he said. "Seriously."

Rei frowned, looking confused.

"Force myself?"

"Yeah," Nash said with a smile. "I get that you probably feel like you owe me because of everything. But you don’t have to sleep with me just because you think it’s a requirement. Come on, I’m not gonna keep saying it, but you guys know me. I’m a bandit, but I’ve got some damn principles."

"Wait," Rei said, her eyes widening. She realized where this was going. "That’s not what I—"

"It’s fine," Nash cut her off. "I appreciate you wanting to do it, but really, you don’t need to."

"Nash," Rei tried to fix the misunderstanding, her voice getting urgent. "That’s not what I meant! I’m not forcing myself, I actually wanted to—"

"Ah, come on, don’t push it. I already said we’re not doing that," he repeated, giving her a little pat on the shoulder. "You’d basically have to pull a Hina for that to happen. Stop forcing yourself, we good?"

Those words hit her like a truck. Rei felt something tighten in her chest, and her face got hot with embarrassment. She wanted to scream at him, to yell about how badly she wanted it, but her arms just went limp at her sides.

Nash, being a bit oblivious, thought the silence meant she was relieved. He thought he’d just freed her from a burden she didn’t want.

"Alright," he said with a smile, picking up the last ball. "Go take a shower. We’ve got a big day tomorrow."

He walked off toward the lockers, totally unaware that he’d just shut down her attempt to actually offer herself to him.

Rei stood there alone on the court, biting her lip. She wanted to say something, to chase him down and tell him, that he was an idiot, that she actually wanted him to fuck her, but her pride stopped her. She couldn’t bring herself to beg or justify it. So she just stood there, feeling a dull pain in her chest, letting the misunderstanding hang in the air.

Meanwhile, in his shitty apartment in Sector 8, Roam was sitting on the edge of a bed that was practically falling apart. He was holding a crumpled piece of paper.

It was a flyer he’d found under his door, mixed in with a bunch of other trashy ads for quick loans and cheap bars. But this one caught his eye.

Immediate hiring — Warehouse worker, Sector 11. No experience needed. Training provided.

He read it once. Then twice. He didn’t even know why he was still staring at it.

A warehouse worker.

He tried to imagine it. Him, hauling heavy crates all day, taking orders from some boss who didn’t know he used to be a captain. Someone who didn’t know he used to play in the Under League and dreamed of seeing his name on the big screens of the Underground.

He suddenly crumpled the paper into a ball and hurled it across the room.

"Fuck!" he hissed, standing up fast, his breathing ragged. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

He stood in the middle of the room, hands shaking, trying to calm down. But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t see himself doing that. It wasn’t that he thought he was too good for the work... or maybe just a little bit, but it was more that he didn’t know how to do anything else. Since he was twelve, since he first touched a ball on a cracked court in Sector 8, this was all he ever wanted. He wanted to be someone. He wanted people to respect him and a crowd to scream for him.

He’d watched Nash make it. Nash started with nothing, actually, less than Roam had, and now Nash had everything Roam ever wanted.

That should have been a sign that it was possible. That the dream wasn’t dead. Instead, it just felt like a slap in the face. He’d kicked Nash out because he saw him as a threat, and now that one choice was costing him his whole career.

Never.

No, fuck that! Never again!

He grabbed his gym bag. He needed to sweat. He needed to feel a ball under his hand, even if it didn’t mean anything anymore. He wanted to be like some movie character, discover a secret talent or get hit by lightning and magically become the best of all time.

Anything was better than giving up.

The trip to the Dust Dogs’ court only took a few minutes. The wood was cracked and the hoop was bent. It was basically a ghost town; there was even a sign saying the place was being demolished soon.

He trained for hours that night. He was disciplined, pushing himself hard—shooting, dribbling, sprinting until his muscles burned and his shirt was soaked in sweat.

He didn’t even know why he was doing it. Everyone knew the match was already decided. But he refused to walk onto that court without at least trying one last time. Maybe the very last time ever.

The next few days flew by. The whole Underground was buzzing. Every street corner, every public screen, every bar, everyone was talking about the match. Nobody thought the Dust Dogs had a chance. The only question was how badly Blacklist was going to crush them.

The game was set at the Central Hangar. It was a massive building made from old warehouses. It could hold thousands of people on metal bleachers. It wasn’t the fancy new arena Victoria had built for Blacklist, that one was still being finished for the season finale against Colossus—but the Hangar was enough to hold the massive, bloodthirsty crowd.

Match day finally arrived. You could feel the electricity in the air; the walls of the arena almost seemed to vibrate.

In the Blacklist locker room, things were surprisingly chill. Nash was sitting on a bench, tying his laces with total focus. He felt a weight on his shoulders, though he couldn’t quite explain it.

Saya’s plan had turned this from a simple game into a revenge story. It was a way to slam the door shut on the past.

He stood up and looked at the thirteen people around him.

"Listen up," he said, his confidence coming back. "Technically, we could play this game with our eyes closed. But today isn’t just another game."

He took his time, thinking.

"There are people out there who believed in us from day one. People who had our backs when nobody else did. This match is for them. We’re going to give them a show. Everyone who wants to see Blacklist as a real team, everyone worried about Baby-Boom... we owe it to them to go out there and cause a total bloodbath."

The team murmured in agreement. Nia stepped up and gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder with a little smile.

"And also," she added, "for our captain, so he can bury his old demons in a big fireworks show."

Everyone laughed, and Nash finally smiled, feeling some of the tension leave his body. He looked at his team, determined and ready.

"Alright," he said. "Let’s go."

Across the complex, in the Dust Dogs’ locker room, it was a totally different vibe.

Saya was leaning against a locker, looking bored.

"Come on," she said, breaking the silence. "Just give it your best. Even if it’s just for show."

Nobody answered. They got dressed in total silence, avoiding each other’s eyes. You could practically feel the team falling apart.

Roam watched them, and his chest felt tight. This wasn’t a team. It was just a group of strangers. Had they ever actually been a team?

Well, it didn’t matter now.

He stood up and stepped into the middle of the room. "Wait," he said, his voice a bit too loud. "Before we go out. I’ve got something to say."

A few people looked at him, looking skeptical.

"I know what you’re all thinking," Roam started, his voice shaking a bit before he steadied it. "I know we’re supposed to win. And I know most of you already have one foot out the door. This team hasn’t meant anything to you in a long time."

He looked at every single face in the room. For the first time in weeks, they were actually listening.

"I’ve spent the last few days wondering what the hell I’m gonna do after this," he continued. "I even found a warehouse job ad. No experience needed." He let out a bitter laugh. "I almost took it, seriously. I almost accepted that’s all I’m worth."

Vargas and Tylo looked at each other, surprised that the king of clowns was actually being honest.

"But I can’t," Roam said louder. "Because this sport is everything to me. It’s been everything since I first touched a ball on some crappy court. I know it’s not the same for you. I know this team has given you nothing but headaches and humiliation."

He looked at Rin, the twins, and Kej. Rin tried to act like she didn’t care.

"But we were a team once. A real one. Before everything went to shit. We sweated and bled together. We pushed each other when we had nothing left." His voice cracked. "No matter what happens out there today, no matter the score, I just want us to be united one last time. Just once. Even if it’s the last time we ever wear these damn jerseys."

The silence that followed was heavy. Heavier than any loss they’d ever had. It was heavier than the times Saya and Rin had to sell their bodies to get by. Tylo looked down, clenching his jaw. The twins looked thoughtful; one of them nodded slowly. Kej straightened up, a little spark of life returning to his dead eyes. Even Vargas, in his wheelchair, looked caught off guard by Roam’s honesty.

Saya stayed leaning against her locker, arms crossed, her brow furrowed. She didn’t like this. She hated how the sincerity was making things "complicated."

"Nice speech," she said with a half-smile. "Funny how it happens right when the match is already fixed."

The moment of unity shattered instantly.

"I’m guessing it’s not fear of Nash that’s giving you this team spirit," Saya continued, rubbing her fingers over her lips. "Like, imagine losing to the guy we kicked out like a dog less than a year ago. Losing to the guy we called ’shrimp’ in front of the whole neighborhood." She laughed coldly. "That kind of loss kills you. For real."

Nobody said a word. That was just Saya, she couldn’t let Roam have a single win. She loved the tension she just created; she savored it.

"Anyway," she shrugged. "It’s chill. Go out there and give it your all. We’ll take whatever happens."

The tension stayed in the air, thick and uncomfortable. Roam, his jaw tight and his moment ruined, headed for the door.

"Let’s go," he said simply.

The two teams walked out of their locker rooms at the exact same time. They headed down the long hallways toward the court, the roar of the crowd getting louder and louder.

Nash led his group, calm and composed. The girls were behind him, determined and relaxed, they moved like a single, deadly organism.

On the other side, Roam led his broken team. His steps weren’t as sure, but he kept his head high, pretending he wasn’t terrified. He didn’t realize they were basically walking straight into a slaughterhouse.

The two hallways met at the tunnel leading to the court. Suddenly, the blinding light of the spotlights and the scream of the crowd exploded in front of them.

And right there, in that light, the two groups came face to face.

Nash stopped dead.

Roam stopped too.

For the first time since he was kicked out, Nash was staring right at his old team.