Han sighed. "But think—if we hold tryouts early, wouldn't that be unfair to those who came to learn?"
Jun added, "I have already said that."
Some students chuckled, breaking the tension. Even Chaewon wanted to laugh, though he kept his head.
Han cleared his throat, embarrassed. "Does anyone still have an issue?"
"No, Hyung, we understand now," one replied. "But… can't we at least move the tryout a little earlier? We're all passionate, but not everyone shares the same fate."
Han spoke firmly. "This is part of the process. Even at work, people train in internships before being trusted with real responsibilities. That's what we're doing—you're learning from each other, finding out if you belong here. Many students have already quit. But you stayed."
Chaewon muttered, "Maybe they just didn't want to take the risk."
Han glanced at him, surprised he spoke. "Chaewon, you were an idol. You know better than anyone—training, surviving the process, passing the trial. Isn't it the same?"
That struck a nerve. Chaewon's eyes dimmed. "Exactly. I know how painful it is when you train together, become friends—and then some move on, while others are left behind. How do we celebrate when someone's dream gets taken away by us?"
The room went silent. Han stepped closer, locking eyes with him. "Fine then. Let's settle this with a match. If I win, tryouts stay as planned. If you win, we'll hold them tomorrow."
Chaewon smirked faintly. "Deal."
News spread quickly, and within twenty minutes the court was packed. Everyone cheered for Han.
The match began. Han's speed, precision, and effortless control stunned the new members. He scored four times in twenty minutes, pulling every trick—crossovers, behind-the-back dribbles, spins. Chaewon was gasping for breath, sitting down to drink water, while his friends whispered in awe.
"He's unbelievable. He could take on all of us alone."
Across the court, Han rested calmly, smiling at them. Not even winded.
"Let's make it easier," he told Jun. "One shot. If they score once, they win."
Jun relayed the message, and the members cheered, pushing Chaewon forward.
The game restarted. Chaewon was still breathing heavily when Han casually dribbled between his legs.
"You're not paying attention," Han teased.
Chaewon shook his head. "How can I, when your beautiful hair is so distracting?"
Han froze, startled. Chaewon seized the moment, stole the ball, and sank a perfect shot.
The hall erupted. The club members lifted Chaewon on their shoulders, celebrating. Han stood silently, watching him with a faint smile.