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Description
Summary: Alfred was curious for Matthew’s collection of basketball medals. What he didn’t expect was finding what he was looking for: Not one, but a team of powerful players, the so-called Generation of Miracles.

“Whoa!” Alfred exclaimed. “Your house is huge, Mattie!”

“Thank you.” The shy Canadian replied. “And this is my room,” he added, opening another door, motioning him to enter. “I’ll bring us something to drink, is there something you’d like in particular?”

“How about a milkshake?” he asked, earning a nod from Matthew.

“I’ll be back in a minute” the other said, “so please don’t mess with anything, alright?”
Alfred nodded back, but of course he wasn’t going to. He was already drawn to a self filled with small trophies and medals.

The curious thing about that particular self was a framed photograph, turned down. The American reached his hand and took it from its place, removing with his hand the gathered dust.

He could see a group of five, no, six people –he had almost missed poor Matthew. It was taken in a basketball court. Three of them were blonds. Two had a silvery blonde shade of hair, and the last one had brown ones, long, and tied in a ponytail. They were cheering, and holding a cup. They seemed so happy.

He didn’t realize Matthew had returned with their milkshakes.

“Heh, sorry.” He said, embarrassment showing in his face. “I just saw all those medals you keep and I couldn’t help myself.”

Matthew offered him his drink. “This is my old basketball team. This is from my second year in the team, and in middle school.”

“Whoa, really? Were they good?”

Matthew nodded. “We won three years in a row. Always with a great difference in score, too.”

“Can you talk to me about them?”

“Sure, I don’t mind.” He replied with a shrug, pointing first at the tallest of the three blonds. “That’s Francis. He joined the team later than the rest of us, in his second year.”

“What was his playing position?”

“Small forward.” He replied, moving to the guy with the ponytail. “That’s Yao, our Shooting Guard.” He continued, moving to the silver-haired giant. “That’s Ivan, our Center.” His hand flew over to the other light-coloured boy. “And that’s Gilbert, our Power Forward. Same as you, right?”

Alfred nodded with a wide smile. “Yeah!” but focused his gaze to the last person in the photograph he didn’t know his name, the second shortest. “And who’s this?”

“That’s Arthur, our Point Guard and Captain.”

“Captain, seriously?” Alfred yelled in surprise. “But he’s like, so small!”

Matthew shook his head. “158 isn’t small for someone in middle school, Alfred.” He replied. “I was five centimeters shorter than him back then.”

Alfred grew more curious about the lean, small –in comparison to someone like Ivan, at least- Captain.

Matthew noticed it as well, and continued. “Arthur was the team’s Captain ever since his first year, and he’s a great strategist.” He complimented his former Captain. “But after that year,” his tone changed, while pointing at the photograph, “we all started to change. We drifted apart. They all went to play for different high schools now.”

Silence.

“Hey, Matthew, how well do you think I’d go in a game against them?”

“Honestly? I’d think they’d completely destroy you.” He replied bluntly. “At least as you are now.”

“I can get better, you know!” he argued. “I will get better, and beat them!”

“I know, and this is why I have decided.” He replied, taking the frame and putting it back to its original place. “I’ll help you achieve that challenge. To my team, they were the light, and I was the shadow. The light shone bright, and the shadow grew.”

Matthew stopped and drank from his milkshake. “I will become your shadow.” Matthew continued. “And together, we can win against them.”

Alfred grinned. “Yes!”

(tbc?)

Description
Summary: Alfred was curious for Matthew’s collection of basketball medals. What he didn’t expect was finding what he was looking for: Not one, but a team of powerful players, the so-called Generation of Miracles.

“Whoa!” Alfred exclaimed. “Your house is huge, Mattie!”

“Thank you.” The shy Canadian replied. “And this is my room,” he added, opening another door, motioning him to enter. “I’ll bring us something to drink, is there something you’d like in particular?”

“How about a milkshake?” he asked, earning a nod from Matthew.

“I’ll be back in a minute” the other said, “so please don’t mess with anything, alright?”
Alfred nodded back, but of course he wasn’t going to. He was already drawn to a self filled with small trophies and medals.

The curious thing about that particular self was a framed photograph, turned down. The American reached his hand and took it from its place, removing with his hand the gathered dust.

He could see a group of five, no, six people –he had almost missed poor Matthew. It was taken in a basketball court. Three of them were blonds. Two had a silvery blonde shade of hair, and the last one had brown ones, long, and tied in a ponytail. They were cheering, and holding a cup. They seemed so happy.

He didn’t realize Matthew had returned with their milkshakes.

“Heh, sorry.” He said, embarrassment showing in his face. “I just saw all those medals you keep and I couldn’t help myself.”

Matthew offered him his drink. “This is my old basketball team. This is from my second year in the team, and in middle school.”

“Whoa, really? Were they good?”

Matthew nodded. “We won three years in a row. Always with a great difference in score, too.”

“Can you talk to me about them?”

“Sure, I don’t mind.” He replied with a shrug, pointing first at the tallest of the three blonds. “That’s Francis. He joined the team later than the rest of us, in his second year.”

“What was his playing position?”

“Small forward.” He replied, moving to the guy with the ponytail. “That’s Yao, our Shooting Guard.” He continued, moving to the silver-haired giant. “That’s Ivan, our Center.” His hand flew over to the other light-coloured boy. “And that’s Gilbert, our Power Forward. Same as you, right?”

Alfred nodded with a wide smile. “Yeah!” but focused his gaze to the last person in the photograph he didn’t know his name, the second shortest. “And who’s this?”

“That’s Arthur, our Point Guard and Captain.”

“Captain, seriously?” Alfred yelled in surprise. “But he’s like, so small!”

Matthew shook his head. “158 isn’t small for someone in middle school, Alfred.” He replied. “I was five centimeters shorter than him back then.”

Alfred grew more curious about the lean, small –in comparison to someone like Ivan, at least- Captain.

Matthew noticed it as well, and continued. “Arthur was the team’s Captain ever since his first year, and he’s a great strategist.” He complimented his former Captain. “But after that year,” his tone changed, while pointing at the photograph, “we all started to change. We drifted apart. They all went to play for different high schools now.”

Silence.

“Hey, Matthew, how well do you think I’d go in a game against them?”

“Honestly? I’d think they’d completely destroy you.” He replied bluntly. “At least as you are now.”

“I can get better, you know!” he argued. “I will get better, and beat them!”

“I know, and this is why I have decided.” He replied, taking the frame and putting it back to its original place. “I’ll help you achieve that challenge. To my team, they were the light, and I was the shadow. The light shone bright, and the shadow grew.”

Matthew stopped and drank from his milkshake. “I will become your shadow.” Matthew continued. “And together, we can win against them.”

Alfred grinned. “Yes!”

(tbc?)