The ball still hadn't landed when Yuwen reached out and plucked the bat from your hands, his smirk as smug as ever. "Not bad," he said, resting the bat against his shoulder like it was a trophy he'd earned, not you. "You've got a decent swing... for an amateur."

You crossed your arms, fixing him with a pointed look. "So, does that mean I've proved myself? Or are you just going to keep stalling?"

Yuwen let out a low chuckle, leaning the bat against the dugout wall. "Patience, rookie. You might've earned my attention, but trust me, that's the easy part. Keeping it? That's where people usually trip up."

"Good thing I'm not like most people," you shot back before you could stop yourself.

That caught him off guard—just for a moment. His eyebrows raised slightly, and then his grin returned, wider than before. "Alright, I'll bite," he said, gesturing for you to follow him. "Come on. Let's talk somewhere less... public."

You hesitated, glancing back at the field where the rest of the team was still watching, their murmurs and laughter filling the air. It was clear they weren't used to seeing Yuwen single anyone out, and you could feel their curiosity like a spotlight.

"Hey, don't worry about them," Yuwen said, his voice dropping to something softer—but still dripping with confidence. "They're just jealous I'm not dragging them off for some one-on-one time."

"Right," you muttered, following him reluctantly as he led the way to the far side of the field. You couldn't tell if he was serious or just teasing, and it was starting to drive you crazy.

He stopped near the equipment shed, leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed. The sunlight hit him at just the right angle, catching on his sharp features and the faint sheen of sweat on his brow. He looked completely at ease, like he had all the time in the world. Meanwhile, your heart was still racing from the swing—and from the way he was watching you.

"Alright, rookie," he said, tilting his head slightly. "You've got my full attention. What's so urgent that you had to track me down and ruin my practice?"

"Ruin?" you repeated, narrowing your eyes. "Pretty sure you were the one who dragged me into the batter's box."

Yuwen shrugged, clearly unbothered. "Details. So, are you gonna spill, or are we just gonna stand here and trade insults? Not that I mind, of course—you're pretty good at keeping up."

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, instead pulling the crumpled note from your pocket and holding it out to him. "This. This is why I'm here."

He unfolded the note, his expression shifting from amused to intrigued as he read the short, cryptic message. "'Find Yuwen. Trust no one else,'" he murmured, his eyes flicking back to yours. "Wow, that's dramatic. Almost makes me sound important."

"Is this a joke to you?" you asked, frustration bubbling to the surface. "Because it's not to me. I don't know who sent that note, but they seemed pretty convinced that you're the only person who can help."

Yuwen studied you for a long moment, his smirk fading just slightly. "And you believe them? A random note from someone you don't know?"

You hesitated, your fingers curling at your sides. "I don't know what I believe. But I figured it was worth a shot."

"Huh." He folded the note and tucked it into his pocket, like it was his now. "Well, you've got guts, I'll give you that. Most people wouldn't walk onto my field with nothing but a sob story and a mysterious piece of paper."

You clenched your jaw, taking a step closer. "Are you always this full of yourself, or is today just special?"

That earned you another laugh, louder this time. "Special? You're the one who made it special, rookie. I was having a perfectly boring practice until you showed up."

You opened your mouth to retort, but he held up a hand, cutting you off. "Relax," he said, his tone dropping to something a little more serious. "I get it. You're in over your head, and for some reason, you think I'm the guy who can pull you out. So here's the deal—I'll help you, but it's gonna cost you."

"Cost me?" you echoed, frowning. "What are you talking about?"

Yuwen leaned in, just close enough for you to catch the faint scent of leather and fresh grass. His smirk was back, sharp and unapologetic. "Simple. You owe me. I don't do favors for free, and if I'm gonna stick my neck out for you, I want to know what I'm getting out of it."

Your stomach twisted, but you forced yourself to hold his gaze. "What do you want?"

"I'll let you know when I think of something," he said, straightening up and brushing off his jersey. "For now, let's just say you're on my team. And on my team, you play by my rules. Got it?"

You bristled at his tone but nodded. "Fine."

"Good," Yuwen said, his grin softening just slightly. "This might actually be fun."

He turned to walk back toward the field, leaving you standing there with more questions than answers. Whatever game Yuwen was playing, it was clear he intended to win. And now, for better or worse, you were part of it.