The hospital smelled faintly of antiseptic and fresh linen, a clean scent that always carried an undercurrent of dread for Yuuto. Every corridor, every squeak of a nurse's shoes against the polished floor, reminded him of the night his world had shattered the night his knee had betrayed him. A memory flashed unbidden: the sudden twist, the pop, the helpless fall, and the cold, sterile light of the emergency room.
Still, today was different. There was a nervous fire burning in his chest, a mix of anticipation and cautious hope. Today was check-up day, the day the doctor would tell him exactly where he stood.
Yuuto wheeled himself down the hallway, the rhythmic click of his wheels echoing faintly. His arms ached from pushing, but it was a welcome ache, a reminder that he could move again. He passed patients doing light stretches, therapists guiding their hands, and the occasional squeak of crutches tapping against the floor. The scene, though ordinary for the hospital, felt charged, alive.
He stopped in front of the examination room. The door swung open, and inside stood the doctor a tall man with silver hair streaked with fatigue and eyes that had seen more injuries than he cared to count. He tapped thoughtfully at a tablet as Yuuto wheeled in.
"Yuuto Kai, right? Post-surgery check-up," the doctor said, voice calm, professional.
"Yes, sir," Yuuto replied, trying to steady his nerves.
The doctor glanced up, studying him carefully, an eyebrow raised in mild curiosity. "Let's see the knee."
Yuuto rolled his sweatpants up just enough to expose the faint scar where the surgery had been. The skin was still pale, slightly puckered in the center a permanent reminder of the trauma it had endured. The doctor's hands were firm but gentle as he pressed and flexed the joint at different angles. Yuuto winced at the pressure but was surprised at how smooth the movement felt compared to last week.
"Hm," the doctor murmured, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "Interesting."
Yuuto frowned. "...What's interesting?"
"You're recovering faster than expected," the doctor said, tilting his head. "Honestly, I didn't think you'd regain this much mobility so soon. Must be your age. Young bodies heal quickly."
Yuuto's chest tightened. Or maybe it wasn't just his age helping him heal… maybe something else was at work. The thought made a shiver run through him.
The doctor leaned back, eyeing him with an analytical look. "I think it's safe to transition you from the wheelchair to crutches. But don't get reckless. No sudden sprints. No jumping. You understand?"
"Yes, sir," Yuuto replied quickly, nodding.
There was a pause, a tension in the room. Yuuto's stomach twisted as the question he'd been holding back surfaced. "Doctor… will I ever play basketball again?"
The room went silent. The doctor sighed, closing the tablet with a soft click. "Yes… but not exactly like before. That kind of injury changes your mechanics. You'll have to adjust your style, play a different position, or…" He paused, eyes flicking toward the ceiling, "…consider another sport entirely."
Yuuto's stomach dropped. Another sport? Basketball had been his life. He clenched his fists, feeling the familiar surge of determination. "I'll adjust. I'll do whatever it takes."
The doctor regarded him for a long moment, then gave a faint smile. "That's the spirit. Now go prove me wrong."
Later, at rehab, Yuuto positioned himself between the balance bars, gripping his crutches tightly. Sweat already clung to his shirt, and the faint ache in his knee was a constant reminder of yesterday's work. Yet inside, something burned brighter than the pain: resolve.
And then it happened the familiar glow appeared in his peripheral vision.
[Bonus Quest Unlocked!]
Perform 50 assisted steps (using bars or crutches)
Maintain balance for 20 seconds without crutches
Complete 20 seated ball passes (with therapist)
Rewards: +2 Recovery, +1 Stamina, Skill Upgrade [Layups → Bronze Rank]
Yuuto's eyes widened. A bonus quest? Mid-rehab?
"Something wrong?" his therapist asked, eyebrow raised.
Yuuto shook his head quickly. "N-No, nothing."
He gripped the bars tighter, heart hammering in his chest. The system wasn't just tracking him anymore it was pushing him. Daring him to exceed his own limits, to defy expectations.
Step one. A small movement forward, deliberate, careful. His right knee flared with pain, a sharp reminder to respect the injury. Step two. Step three. The therapist counted softly under her breath, steady, encouraging. Yuuto's arms shook as he forced each step, sweat dripping down his forehead into his eyes, stinging slightly.
By the twentieth step, the knee screamed for mercy. By the fortieth, his vision blurred from exertion. But Yuuto refused to yield. Step fifty. He planted his foot firmly, adjusted his crutch, and exhaled sharply.
Ding!
A rush of warmth spread through his leg, crawling along the ligaments, seeping into the joint like tiny sparks of energy knitting everything together. The pain dulled, replaced by something sharper, something controlled strength.
Next, he seated himself, crutches folded neatly to the side, and grabbed a basketball. The therapist stood across from him, passing the ball gently. One. Two. Three. Yuuto caught it, wrists flicking, fingers spreading, palms gripping, elbows adjusting. Each pass, each controlled toss, felt smoother than the last. Muscle memory was being rewritten in real time, under the watchful guidance of both the therapist and the system.
[Bonus Quest Completed]
Rewards Earned: +2 Recovery, +1 Stamina, Skill Upgrade: [Layups → Bronze Rank]
Yuuto froze, staring down at his hands. Bronze Rank. Already? The digits, letters, and glowing bar that appeared in his mind made him realize just how much he was improving. The system wasn't just helping him heal it was evolving him.
For the first time since the injury, Yuuto allowed himself a grin. A real smile. Hope. Not fragile, fleeting hope, but solid, steel-forged determination that made his chest swell.
The therapist clapped softly, the sound cutting through the ambient hum of the rehab room. "Excellent, Yuuto. That's progress. Your control, your focus it's improving at a pace I didn't expect. Keep this up."
Yuuto inhaled, pressing the ball to his chest. "I… I feel it. My hands, my legs… everything feels sharper. Like my body's learning again."
The blue panel pulsed faintly. Consistency. Determination. Effort recognized.
"Yes," Yuuto whispered, voice hoarse but firm. "I'm not done. Not even close."
The therapist gave him a nod of approval. "Tomorrow, we'll push a little harder. But remember, you're not just recovering you're rebuilding. And that mindset… that's what's going to take you places most patients don't reach."
Yuuto leaned back, crutches tucked neatly to the side, muscles trembling but energized, knee throbbing but obedient. He let his gaze drift over the rehab room: mats lined neatly, patients pushing through their own limits, therapists moving with calm efficiency. And in the middle of it all, Yuuto felt an odd sense of kinship. This wasn't just rehab. This was training. His new court. His battlefield.
He let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "Basketball isn't over," he whispered to himself, and for the first time since the injury, he believed it.
The system hummed softly, a gentle acknowledgment. Progress recorded. Effort rewarded. Skill evolving.
And Yuuto Kai, seventeen, injured but far from defeated, knew one thing for certain: the grind had begun and he was ready.