Reborn As A Doomsday Villainess-Chapter 55: A little nostalgia

Anya disappeared into her room for a moment, rummaging through her closet before tossing a familiar blue jersey onto the couch.

"You’re still keeping that old thing?" Qingran asked, raising an eyebrow.

Anya huffed. "Of course. Unlike someone, I actually have school spirit."

Qingran rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. She had her own uniform packed away in her bag, red and crisp like it hadn’t aged a day.

She pulled it out, running her fingers over the fabric for a moment before changing into it. It still fit perfectly, a second skin that carried memories of countless games, victories, and a few painful losses.

Anya reappeared a moment later, her blue jersey hanging comfortably over her frame. "Still fits," she said with a grin. "You ready?"

Qingran adjusted her wristbands. "Always."

Lingquan, watching from the couch, flicked his tail. [You two are taking this way too seriously.]

"My cat thinks we’re over doing it.."

Anya smirked. "It’s called school pride, little guy."

[Forgive me if I don’t see the appeal.]

Qingran picked up her duffel bag, slinging it over her shoulder. "Let’s go before the court gets too packed."

The drive to the court was filled with easy conversation and bouts of laughter, a stark contrast to the serious tone of their earlier discussion.

Anya had her feet propped up on the dashboard, spinning the basketball idly in her hands as she reminisced about their old school days.

"Remember that one game where we were down by fifteen points in the last quarter, and Coach nearly lost his mind?" Anya chuckled. "He was screaming so loud, I swear even the cafeteria ladies could hear him."

Qingran smirked. "And then I shut him up by scoring back-to-back threes."

Anya groaned. "Yeah, yeah, show-off. But don’t forget who got the final steal and the game-winning layup."

Qingran let out a low hum. "I still say you got lucky."

"Lucky?" Anya gasped in mock offense. "Qingqing, I carried that game."

Qingran shot her an amused glance before returning her focus to the road. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Anya pouted but quickly grinned. "It was good though, wasn’t it? Those games? The energy, the rush, the crowd going wild. I kind of miss it."

Qingran didn’t reply immediately. She did miss it—the thrill of competition, the strategy, the way the world narrowed down to just the court and the game.

It had been a different kind of fight, one where the stakes weren’t life or death, but it still made her blood sing.

Lingquan, lounging in the back seat, let out a slow sigh. [If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were both going to war.]

Qingran snorted. "Basketball is a war."

As they pulled up to the court, it was already packed.

High schoolers, boys and girls alike, were scattered across the concrete, playing rounds in their respective red and blue jerseys.

Some were dribbling on the sidelines, others were calling for passes, and a few were locked in heated one-on-one battles.

The sounds of sneakers squeaking against pavement, basketballs bouncing, and laughter filled the air.

The moment Qingran and Anya stepped onto the court, the energy shifted. Conversations quieted, heads turned, and all eyes landed on them.

Despite their heights, Qingran at 170 cm and Anya at 173 cm, they carried themselves with a presence that made them stand out.

It wasn’t about height. It was about confidence, experience, and the way they moved like they belonged there.

At first, the kids only stared, murmuring among themselves.

"Who are they?"

"They don’t look like students."

"But they’re in red and blue jerseys..."

It didn’t take long for someone to notice the emblem on their uniforms— Shenghua High School.

And that was when everything exploded.

"Wait, wait, wait—Shenghua?!"

"Yo, isn’t that the school that had those two insane players back in the day?"

"No way—could it be them?"

Someone practically shouted, "Gu Qingran and Kuroba Anya? The legends?!"

As if a floodgate had opened, the kids rushed over, their excitement contagious.

"Are you really them?!"

"You guys wiped the floor with everyone in the nationals back then!"

"I watched your old games online! Your synergy was crazy!"

Qingran tilted her head slightly, amusement flickering in her eyes as she crossed her arms.

She let the chaos run for a few seconds before finally answering, voice smooth and confident.

"What do you think?"

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd.

"Holy shit—it’s really them!"

"This is insane—what are they doing here?!"

Anya smirked, spinning the ball on her finger. "We figured it was time for a little nostalgia. And maybe a little fun."

The kids practically vibrated with excitement.

"Are you guys playing?!"

"Can we challenge you?!"

"I call being on their team!"

Qingran and Anya exchanged glances, then smirked.

"Sure sure, those on red, you’re on my side, those on blue, to the other side.."

As the chaos of voices settled, the group of high schoolers looked at each other before stepping forward one by one.

A sharp-eyed girl in a red jersey was the first to speak, her tone confident. "Fang Yuxi. Shooting guard. I’m fast, I’m accurate, and I don’t lose." She flipped her ponytail over her shoulder, smirking. "I want to be on Gu Qingran-jie’s team."

Beside her, a tall boy, easily the tallest on the court at 180 cm, crossed his arms. His stance was relaxed, but his voice was steady. "Liang Zhen. Center. I dominate the paint. If you need rebounds and blocks, I’m your guy." His gaze flickered to Qingran. "Count me in."

A lean boy with sharp features and a calm expression adjusted his wristbands before speaking. "Takahashi Ren. Small forward. I know how to read the game and move fast in transition." His lips curled slightly. "I’d rather be on the winning side, so Qingran-jie, I’m with you."

Qingran gave them all a once-over before nodding. "Good choices."

Not to be outdone, a lively boy in a blue jersey took a step forward, bouncing the ball in his hands. His grin was infectious. "Zhao Mingwei! Point guard. Quick feet, quick hands, and I don’t choke under pressure." He turned to Anya with a playful wink. "And I already know Anya-jie is gonna win, so I’m with her."

A girl with a focused expression and arms crossed over her chest followed next. "Song Jia. Power forward. I don’t talk much. I just shut people down." Her eyes met Anya’s. "I want in."

The last to step up was a quiet-looking girl with sleek black hair, holding a basketball under her arm. She spoke softly, but there was a quiet confidence in her voice. "Sakamoto Rika. Shooting guard. I don’t miss from the three-point line." She tilted her head slightly. "If it’s Anya-jie, I want to be on her team."

Anya let out a whistle. "Not bad. You kids might actually give us a challenge."

Qingran smirked. "Only if they can keep up."

The high schoolers lit up with excitement, the energy on the court shifting. The match was set.