On the outdoor basketball court, following the sound, Zack's eyes landed on a young Black guy wearing a white T-shirt, with big eyes and a wide nose. Almost instinctively, he blurted out, "L-Little Shorty?"
At those words, the young man seemed to be flooded with old memories.
After a moment of stunned silence, Zack chuckled awkwardly and said, "Sorry, Chris, I forgot you don't like that nickname."
Truth is, the moment their eyes met, Zack had already recognized him.
But since the original owner of this body also knew the guy, Zack had instinctively called out the old nickname without thinking.
Luckily, the young man didn't seem to mind being called "Little Shorty."
After a brief pause, he looked up at Zack. "Is that really you, Zack? You, uh…"
Patting the extra weight on his belly, Zack grinned. "You wanna know why I ended up like this?"
The young man, named Chris, nodded.
Letting out a long sigh, Zack said, "It's a long story."
Over the next few minutes, Zack gave Chris a rough rundown of what he'd been up to the past couple of years.
When he mentioned that he'd let himself go due to giving up on himself, Zack noticed a flicker of regret cross Chris's face.
"So, you're saying you want to lose weight to win back the trust of the team's coaches?" Chris asked after hearing Zack's story.
Zack nodded. "I've recently had a wake-up call and realized a lot of things. I've let down so many people who had high hopes for me.
"I shouldn't have run away from setbacks. And it wasn't until just a few days ago that I realized how much I *love* basketball.
"I crave playing, competing. So, to make that happen, I've gotta get my weight back to a normal range first."
No way around it—since he'd inherited this body and its memories, Zack had to carry some of the baggage, whether he liked it or not.
After all, he was the one in charge of this body now, wasn't he?
"It's awesome that you're thinking like this, Zack.
"Honestly, back in your senior year of high school, we were all really worried about your mental state," Chris said with a smile, looking at a Zack who seemed like a completely different person from before.
Then, after a pause, Chris stepped closer, sizing Zack up. "I can't help much with the weight loss.
"But if you wanna work on your game, I'm down to help anytime.
"Oh, and by the way… I guess I should start calling you *senpai* now.
"Because starting next semester, I'm joining the Wake Forest Demon Deacons!"
*Senpai*, huh?
In that moment, Zack's heart swirled with mixed emotions.
Because the young man standing before him, named Chris, was none other than the legendary point guard god from his memories:
*Chris Paul.*
And also, in the high school memories of "Zack," the teammate with the "low basketball IQ" who played too selfishly on the court.
Yup, "Zack's" high school, West Forsyth High, was the same one Chris Paul attended.
And just as Paul had said, "Zack" had been his *senpai* since their high school days.
As for why Paul was remembered by "Zack" in such a way…
A single memory flashed in Zack's mind, and the truth became clear.
In that memory, during an intrasquad scrimmage at West Forsyth High, Paul was dribbling past halfcourt, repeatedly calling for a pick-and-roll from his *senpai*, "Zack."
But back then, Paul was short, and as a freshman, he'd been stuck training with the second team. Naturally, he couldn't get the attention of "Zack," who was already on the varsity squad.
Left with no outlet to pass, Paul had no choice but to take the shot himself.
And "Zack"?
After Paul took the shot, he threw his hands up in frustration, shooting Paul an impatient glare.
Recalling this, Zack fell silent for a long moment.
Standing nearby, Paul looked at his *senpai*, who seemed so different now, and said, "Zack, back in my freshman year, I was always jealous of you guys—jealous of all you tall dudes who could fly around the court.
"No way around it; basketball's a big man's game, right?"
Looking down at Paul, Zack knew those words came straight from the heart.
Because if his memory was correct, unlike those NBA stars who were already acting like Michael Jordan in their own high school stories, Chris Paul didn't make West Forsyth's varsity team until his junior year.
For his first two years of high school, Paul—often teased as "Little Shorty" by teammates for his height—had to train and play with the reserve team, despite already having solid skills and game awareness.
In his sophomore year, seeing how hard Paul worked, West Forsyth's coach, Ruston, had planned to promote him to the varsity team and give him some limited minutes. This would've given Paul a chance to play alongside his older brother, Charles "C.J." Paul, before his high school career ended.
But when faced with this rare chance to play "brother basketball" with C.J., Paul didn't even hesitate—he turned it down.
Coach Ruston was baffled.
In his eyes, this wasn't just the only chance for the Paul brothers to team up in high school; it might've also been one of the few opportunities for Chris Paul to play in official games during his high school career.
After all, even if Paul had a growth spurt in his junior year, who could've predicted that a guy barely around 180 cm tall would go on to achieve what he did?
But that's just who Chris Paul was.
Once he set his mind on something, he wouldn't budge.
In Paul's view, rather than relying on his brother's connection to snag some scraps of playing time, he'd rather keep grinding his skills to prepare for the day he could earn a real spot on the varsity team.
*Even if a storm rises, never give up on life.*
Sure, the Paul in Zack's memories might've had flaws in the eyes of others.
But you can't deny that Paul's relentless, never-say-die spirit carved out his own place in the tall-man's world of the NBA.
On the outdoor court, after chatting with his *kohai* for a bit and exchanging phone numbers, Zack—having his first close encounter with an NBA star from his memories—suddenly felt that losing weight didn't seem *that* daunting anymore.
After all, didn't most NBA stars earn their ticket to the league through relentless grinding?
Well, except for that one guy in the future who got handed an NBA spot by his dad for some father-son basketball.
"Next, I've gotta hurry up and master my new shooting form during practice."
That day, after this fateful reunion with his *kohai* Paul, Zack returned to his dorm and noticed something:
The little demons that used to hover around him when he was hungry had been replaced by a flock of tiny angels holding cups of motivational chicken soup.
That night, before drifting off to sleep while ignoring his hunger, those angels kept brainwashing him:
"Losing weight? No big deal. You're gonna be a legend in the NBA!"
"Feeling hungry? Think about basketball. Isn't hooping way better than scarfing down junk food?"
"Go to sleep already! Tomorrow, you're training with the point guard god, Chris Paul!"
That night was the best sleep Zack had since arriving in this world.
And the next morning, as he looked in the mirror, Zack could tell his condition was visibly improving.
"Now, let's get to work!"
Clenching his fist, Zack, joined by the tiny angel versions of himself circling around, hyped himself up.
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*(End of Chapter)*