Chapter Text
Practice was already in session when Lu Guang entered the basketball court. He lifted his arm in greeting when Cheng Xiaoshi called his name, then picked his way over to the bleachers to find a place to sit and observe. He easily found a spot and settled into it, notebook on his knees and pen in hand; the picture of a normal high school student doing their homework.
On the court, the boys in the team were running drills. Lu Guang watched them through his bangs, making careful notations in the margins of his math worksheet. His eyes kept straying to the tall, imposing man coaching the team—Coach Zhang—as he noted down any suspicious interactions between the man and his students.
When he and Cheng Xiaoshi had been first year students, they’d only heard vague rumors about the man and the way he treated the team. It wasn’t until last semester, the beginning of their second year, when Lu Guang witnessed the truth of those rumors firsthand.
He’d elected to join a culture club instead, but Cheng Xiaoshi had signed up for the basketball team as soon as he could. For the first few weeks, things had been normal. Then Cheng Xiaoshi’s enthusiasm for the team started to fade. He started showing up to school with minor injuries, saying he’d gotten them in practice. Too many injuries, in Lu Guang’s opinion.
So here he was, quietly observing practice under the pretext of waiting for his friend.
“Hey!” Coach Zhang had finally noticed Lu Guang and strode toward the bleachers. “Practice is closed. If you’re not on the team, you have to vacate.”
“C’mon, Coach,” Cheng Xiaoshi said, butting in before Lu Guang could say a word. “He’s just waiting for me. I told him he could wait here, since his club’s been canceled.”
Coach Zhang frowned down at Cheng Xiaoshi, then up at Lu Guang. “Is that right?”
Lu Guang shrugged. “More or less.”
“Well, practice is still closed. I’ll tell you what, though. Why don’t you join us for a short game, once we finish drills? If anyone asks, we can say you were trying out for the team.”
He hesitated. He could play basketball, of course—he couldn’t stay friends with Cheng Xiaoshi if he couldn’t hold his own—but he had no desire to get on the court. But if it meant his investigation was otherwise cut short….
“Really?” Cheng Xiaoshi’s face lit up when Lu Guang stood up. “You’re gonna play with us?”
“Guess so,” he replied, stuffing his notebook back into his schoolbag.
“Got your gym clothes?” the coach asked. Lu Guang nodded. “Good. Get changed and get back here, and we’ll get in the game.”
Cheng Xiaoshi started to follow him, still gushing about the chance to play together in front of the team, but Coach Zhang held him back. He forcefully turned Cheng Xiaoshi back to the court, calling out for the team to start on the next set of drills.
He changed quickly and made his way back to the court, stopping to watch the last of the drills. Everything seemed normal so far, but Lu Guang supposed that Coach Zhang wouldn’t show his true colors to an outsider so easily. He’d probably have to join the team if he wanted to know the truth—or convince Cheng Xiaoshi to tell him everything.
“All right, bring it in,” the coach called. “Now, we’ve got an uneven number of students, so I’ll be joining you for this game. Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you,” he added with a laugh when a few of the players started whispering. “Cheng Xiaoshi, you want your friend on your team?”
“Oh, yeah!” Cheng Xiaoshi rested an arm on Lu Guang’s shoulders and grinned at his teammates. “We’re gonna wipe the floor with you guys.”
Lu Guang rolled his eyes, but didn’t comment as the coach went about dividing them up into two teams. The coach blew his whistle to start the game, and Lu Guang settled into his position to wait for Cheng Xiaoshi’s usual signals.
The first time Cheng Xiaoshi passed him the ball, Coach Zhang slapped it out of the air. “You’ll have to do better than that,” he taunted, running down the court as Lu Guang tried to keep up. The man was big and fast, and when he suddenly stopped to pass to one of his students he brought his elbow up and caught Lu Guang in the chest.
“Ooh, sorry about that,” Coach Zhang said—not sounding the least bit sorry. “The game moves fast, kid. You’ve gotta pay attention.”
Lu Guang glowered at the man as the game rolled on. Cheng Xiaoshi had the ball again, running up the court toward their basket. Lu Guang raced to follow him, but Coach Zhang ran into him and sent him sprawling. The coach didn’t even bother to apologize this time, just intercepted the ball again and took the game back down the court.
“You okay?” Cheng Xiaoshi asked, taking Lu Guang’s arm to help him to his feet.
He nodded, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. “Let’s just get this over with.”
The game continued in the same vein. Thanks to the coach’s interference, Lu Guang never managed to touch the ball. He found himself blocked, run into or over, and knocked down more times than he could count. Once, he could have sworn that Coach Zhang intentionally stuck his foot out to trip him—though, of course, he couldn’t prove anything.
“And that’s the game,” the coach announced as one of the players on his team sunk an easy two-pointer. “Good job, guys. Hey, Cheng Xiaoshi, your little friend’s got some talent.” He placed a hand on Lu Guang’s head, acting overly familiar in a way that made Lu Guang’s skin crawl.
“I told you,” Cheng Xiaoshi said with a grin. He wasn’t as breathless as Lu Guang, though his shirt was soaked through with sweat.
“Too bad you couldn’t really show your stuff up there, but you sure kept on my tail,” Coach Zhang continued.
Lu Guang rolled his eyes. That hadn’t been intentional; the coach had been on him the entire game. He hadn’t been able to take a step without Coach Zhang blocking him or knocking him down.
“Tell you what. While the rest of the boys run a couple laps to cool down, how about you show me some free throws?” the man suggested. He waved the rest of the team off, including Cheng Xiaoshi, and rested a hand on Lu Guang’s shoulder to steer him over to the free throw line.
“I’m not really trying out for the team,” he protested.
“Just for fun,” Coach Zhang insisted. “Come on, show me what you got.”
He rolled his eyes again, but didn’t reply. The coach stood behind the net with a basketball in his hands. He bounced it a few times, then bounce-passed it to Lu Guang, who caught it. His free throw bounced off the rim, and he frowned when the coach chuckled at that.
“Maybe not that great, huh?” the coach jeered. He passed again, throwing the ball hard enough that it made Lu Guang’s hands sting. “You know, your pal has some real skill. I’d hate to see someone like you holding him back.”
He made the second shot, but when he looked for the coach’s reaction, a third ball was already flying at him. Then a fourth. Then a fifth. They kept coming, faster and faster, and he lost any focus or method to his free throws. Lu Guang was just wildly throwing at the basket, trying to pull his hands down fast enough to catch the next ball. He missed one and it caught him in the chest, and before he could pull himself back together another one caught him in the face.
Lu Guang stumbled back, landing on his backside, feeling the warm rush of blood gushing out of his nose. Coach Zhang advanced on him, but instead of helping him up he grabbed a handful of the front of Lu Guang’s shirt and shoved him all the way down.
“I know what you’re doing here, you little shit,” Coach Zhang sneered, leaning in so that his face was inches from Lu Guang’s. “You’re in that nosy asshole’s class, right? Xiao Li? Did he put you up to this?”
He shook his head, but the man just yanked him up a few inches to slam him down again. “Think you’re gonna report me, huh? Tattle to the principal or your parents, and you’ll make big bad Coach Zhang go away? Well, think again.” He punctuated his words with another slam against the floor of the court. “If you try anything, the only one going away is you. It’ll be your word against mine, and a coach’s word carries a hell of a lot more weight than one insignificant art student. Got it?”
When Lu Guang didn’t answer right away, Coach Zhang slammed him against the floor again. “I asked you a question,” he sneered.
“I got it,” Lu Guang finally whispered. The coach grunted and shoved away from him, pushing himself up.
“Go clean yourself up. Wouldn’t want all that blood to scare the others, right? Oh, and kid? You didn’t make the team.”
Lu Guang slowly climbed to his feet, one arm clutching his side. His back and head ached from their collision with the floor, and he kept his head down as he stumbled toward the locker room.
But his thoughts were surprisingly clear. Xiao Li was his homeroom teacher, and he hadn’t known the man had his own suspicions about the coach.
This wasn’t over, not by a long shot. He just had to find a new angle of attack.