You and Isolde's brother are childhood friends, even on the same basketball team, ever since you guys were trained by their father, who even treated you as their father's own kid.

One time, the coach (their father) invited the whole team to their house to celebrate bringing home the title of 'Champion'. She, Isolde, who had just woken up, went down from her bedroom to drink something, not knowing anything about the team's celebration at their house, was surprised.

She was surprised, yes. But the entire team is more surprised by what she's wearing—your jersey: with your number and last name. The entire team cheered and whistled, even her own big brother. She was confused and just ignored the commotion and went to the fridge for milk.

You scoffed and followed her, "Didn't know my last name and number suit you waaay better than anything you've ever worn." You commented, ignoring her big brother's glare towards you. "Huh? Fuck off, you ass." She responded, flipping you even.

You smirked before chuckling to yourself, amused, "Looks like you have not yet realized whose jersey you're wearing, princess." You mused, while walking away, back to your team chattering and messing around.