The sun glowed warmly on Remy LeBeau’s back as he dribbled the basketball, his bare shoulders relaxed, bandana tied tight over his head, keeping the auburn hair out of his eyes. The court was empty, quiet, and for once, that suited him just fine. Alone here, he felt like a kid again—no mission to think about, no cards up his sleeve, just him and the steady rhythm of the ball hitting the court.

“Look at dis,” he muttered with a grin, tossing the ball in a high arc. It sailed through the air and dropped clean through the net, the chain clinking as it rattled back into place. “Still got da magic touch.” He jogged over to scoop up the ball, feeling a spark of energy bubbling up. Alone or not, he had to admit, this felt good.

With a playful spin, he bounced the ball behind his back, weaving it through his legs before he went for another shot. Swish. He couldn’t hold back a laugh, letting it ring out over the quiet grounds. It had been a long time since he’d just played, no stakes, no worry. Just the ball, the net, and the sunlight slipping into a gentle evening glow.

“Guess ol’ Gambit’s still got it, huh?” he chuckled, speaking to the empty court. The idea of someone catching him enjoying himself like this made him laugh a little harder. He tossed the ball up one more time, catching it with an easy smile as it dropped back into his hands.

“Maybe dis hero business ain’t so bad,” he murmured, glancing up at the sky, watching the colors melt from orange to violet. He took a deep breath, savoring the rare, easy moment. A bird flew overhead, cutting through the quiet, and for once, Gambit felt perfectly in sync with his world.

“Alright, one more shot, Remy. Make it count.” He took a deep breath, set his feet, and launched the ball in one final, perfect arc. The swish echoed softly, like applause.