Yuuto woke to the pale gold of morning spilling through his curtains, soft and gentle, spilling across his cluttered desk and the floorboards with a warmth that made the world feel alive again. For a second, he just lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to shake off the hazy memory of last night. The pain the sudden, screaming agony in his knee the glowing blue screen, the voice that had spoken without a mouth, the impossibility of it all.
He let out a small laugh, rubbing his face with the back of his hand.
"Oh man… what a dream. Getting a system? That's the kind of thing that only happens in manga or web novels."
His knee still throbbed faintly beneath the blanket, a dull, insistent reminder that reality hadn't completely faded. He flexed it slightly, careful not to provoke sharp pain. The ache answered back, grounding him.
"I wish it was real…" he muttered, voice quiet.
[Affirmative.]
Yuuto froze, his eyes snapping open. The voice wasn't in the room. It didn't come from his phone or the muted TV in the corner. It was… inside him. His heart hammered.
"…What?"
[Yes, Yuuto.]
His chest tightened, and his stomach flipped as he jolted upright. "Wh–who's there?!"
[Basketball Career Recovery Protocol Online.]
A blue screen shimmered into existence right above his bed, hovering in the air as clearly as if it were a physical monitor. The morning light did nothing to dim its glow. Yuuto's mouth went dry, throat constricted, eyes wide with disbelief.
"No way…" he whispered, voice cracking.
[Yes way.]
The events of last night returned in a flood—the unbearable pain, the desperate pleading, the promise of another chance. Yuuto's lips parted in a shaky breath.
"This… this wasn't a dream… It's just like… the systems I've read about in webnovels…"
The glowing panel pulsed softly, almost in response, the light reflecting off his wide eyes.
[Correct.]
[Would you like to see Player Stats?]
Yuuto blinked. His pulse jumped painfully in his throat. "P–Player stats? Like… an actual status screen?"
[Yes.]
His fingers twitched against the sheets. The realization pressed down on him, heavy and thrilling. He swallowed hard, whispering, "…Then… show me."
The blue screen shifted instantly, reorganizing itself into crisp white letters. Lines of data appeared, almost too surreal to comprehend.
[Player Stats]
Name: Yuuto Kai
Age: 17
Height: 5'10" (178 cm)
Weight: 157 lbs (71 kg)
Physical Attributes
Strength: 8
Agility: 7
Endurance: 6
Stamina: 5
Recovery: 12 ★ (boosted due to Rehabilitation Protocol)
Willpower: 10
Basketball Skills
Shooting: 6
Dribbling: 7
Passing: 8
Defense: 7
Speed: 6
Court Vision: 9
Clutch Mentality: 8
Special Note: Injury detected (Right Knee – Healing). Movement temporarily restricted.
Yuuto stared, mouth slightly open. "They… they even know my basketball skills… Shooting, passing, court vision… all of it."
The system responded immediately.
[Correct. Rehabilitation is not only about healing. It is about evolving. Your body will recover. Your game can grow.]
Yuuto clenched his fists, chest tightening with fear and excitement intertwined. "If this is real… then I can come back stronger. Stronger than before…"
He stared at the glowing panel, throat dry. His right knee throbbed faintly, a cruel reminder that his future had been supposed to end here. Yet the screen told another story.
[Special Note: Injury detected (Right Knee – Healing). Movement temporarily restricted.]
Yuuto's gaze lingered on the line, and for a moment, the familiar pain flared again. He gritted his teeth, pressing the sheets into his palms as his breathing quickened.
"I… I don't want to lose this. I don't want to lose basketball. Please… please don't take it from me."
The room was silent, and for a moment, he felt the weight of that plea hanging in the air. Then the screen pulsed.
[Your fear is acknowledged.]
[Your determination has been recorded.]
[Activating: Rehabilitation Protocol – Phase 1]
A warmth spread from his knee, dull at first, then sharper, like tiny sparks weaving through his muscles and ligaments. Yuuto gasped, biting back a cry as the initial pain surged, then slowly ebbed away, leaving behind a strange, almost weightless sensation.
[You will recover faster than expected.]
[But recovery is not enough.]
Yuuto's hands trembled, but not from fear. Something else stirred in his chest hope. He leaned back on the pillow, eyes fixed on the glowing words.
"So this is real… A system. A second chance."
His knee still ached when he moved, but the pain felt different now. It wasn't the pain of an ending. It was the pain of a beginning.
The screen pulsed once more, as if smiling at him, and then flickered, fading gradually as the sun crept higher. Yuuto blinked, breathing out slowly. His chest felt lighter, his thoughts sharper. For the first time in weeks, he allowed himself to imagine a future one where he could run, dribble, pass, shoot, and play again.
First Step Back
Knock. Knock.
"Yuuto?" His mom's voice was soft but firm on the other side of the door. "Time to get up, honey. We need to get ready for rehab. The doctor's waiting."
Yuuto blinked. The faint glow of the system panel had already disappeared from his vision, leaving only the pale light of the morning. For a moment, he wondered if last night had been some fevered hallucination… until the whisper came again.
[Good morning, Player Yuuto.]
His heart jumped. The system was real. Still here.
"I'm up," he called back, sliding out of bed. His knee twinged faintly, but it wasn't the sharp, stabbing pain from before just a dull ache, manageable with careful movement.
He dressed in loose shorts and a hoodie, crutches within reach. Opening the door, he met his mom's eyes, soft and warm but determined.
"That's my boy," she said, smiling. "You're strong. Let's get this knee better, okay?"
He nodded, forcing a grin. Inside, he felt like two people stacked together the scared boy who had lost everything, and the hopeful one who had been handed a second chance.
The ride to the rehab center was quiet except for the hum of the engine. Yuuto stared out the window, watching sunlight dance across the streets, trees, and cars. He could almost imagine himself weaving through defenders instead of traffic, pivoting, shooting, passing playing. The memory of the glowing panel from last night lingered like a distant star: stats, skills, quests. A game-like world had merged with his reality.
When they arrived, the wide rehab room sprawled before him like a court. Mats lined the floor, exercise machines gleamed in neat rows, balance boards were scattered strategically, and therapists moved between patients, adjusting postures, giving encouragement, counting reps. His stomach tightened. This was his new court. His new battleground.
And then it happened.
[Daily Quests Generated.]
A new panel shimmered before him, floating in the air just like the night before.
[Daily Quests – Rehabilitation Protocol]
Reward: +1 Stamina, +1 Recovery, +1 Basketball (Dribbling)
Bonus (if all cleared): +1 Willpower
Yuuto froze, eyes wide, a whisper escaping his lips. "Daily quests… for rehab?"
[Correct.]
[Your body will heal through training. Your spirit will grow through consistency. Every day is a chance to level up.]
He gripped the handle of his crutch tighter, pulse hammering. This wasn't just getting his knee back it was a game, a challenge, a way to rise stronger than before. Each rep, each step, each moment of pain would forge him anew.
The therapist, Mizuki Sato, approached, clipboard in hand, her ponytail bouncing slightly. "Yuuto? Let's start easy today, okay? Just some gentle stretching and balance exercises."
Yuuto exhaled slowly, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "Yeah," he said, stepping forward with a renewed sense of purpose. "Let's start."
As he began the first warm-up, the faint pulse of the system whispered inside him: a constant reminder that this was no ordinary rehab. This was a chance to become better, faster, stronger, to turn the pain into power, to turn setbacks into stepping stones.
And for the first time in what felt like forever, Yuuto felt like he wasn't just surviving. He was leveling up.