The morning sunlight streamed through Yuuto's window, golden and unrelenting. Dust motes floated in the air, drifting lazily as if mocking how fast his heart was already racing. The warmth on his skin should've been comforting, but instead it felt sharp, like the light itself was pushing him forward.
Today was another rehab day. Another chance to fight.
Yuuto swung his legs over the side of the bed, wincing as his right knee stiffened like rusted metal. The ache was constant now, dull but nagging. He grabbed his crutches leaning by the dresser and pulled himself upright, shoulders trembling at the familiar strain on his arms.
Just as he steadied himself, a faint glow shimmered in the corner of his vision.
[ System Notification: Daily Quest Available]
Quest – "Discipline of Recovery (Day 2)"
Stretching: 15 minutes Balance Training: 10 minutes Dribbling (seated): 100 repetitions Breathing Control: 5 minutes
Reward: +1 Stamina +2 Control 10 EXP
Yuuto exhaled shakily. Yesterday had nearly broken him. The stretches tore at his joints, the balance drills humiliated him, and the ball work left his palms raw. But when the system chimed "Quest Complete," something inside him had ignited like a tiny flame refusing to be smothered.
He gripped the crutches tighter, whispering under his breath.
"Again. I'll do it again."
The hospital's rehab wing smelled faintly of antiseptic and lemon cleaner. Fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting a pale glow across polished floors. Yuuto's therapist, Ms. Sakamoto, waited at the gym section tall, lean, and sharp-eyed, with her hair tied in a practical bun. She held a basketball under one arm, raising an eyebrow as he approached.
"You're back," she said flatly, though there was a flicker of surprise in her voice. "After yesterday, I expected you'd be begging for a day off."
Yuuto forced a smile. "If I want to play again, I can't rest. Not yet."
Ms. Sakamoto studied him a moment, then tossed him the ball. "Still think you can do this?"
The ball smacked into his hands with a weight heavier than he remembered. His arms trembled slightly as he caught it, but his grip held firm.
"Yes," Yuuto said, sweat already beading at his temples. "I know I can."
They began with stretches.
Yuuto sat on the padded mat, carefully extending his injured leg forward. The moment he leaned into the stretch, pain lanced through his knee like fire. His jaw clenched, breath hissing through his teeth.
"Breathe," Ms. Sakamoto instructed, crouching nearby. "If you lock up, you'll only make it worse."
He inhaled shakily, exhaled, then pushed a fraction further. The fire burned brighter. His vision blurred, but he forced himself to hold.
Fifteen minutes felt like hours, every second a war between his body and his will. When the timer beeped, his shirt was plastered to his back, his hands trembling as he pushed himself upright.
Balance training came next.
They moved to the railings along the wall. Yuuto set his crutches aside, gripping the bar with both hands. His right leg quivered the moment he put weight on it. Sweat rolled down his cheek as he tried to stand tall, tried to trust his body.
One second. Two. Three
His knee buckled. He grabbed the railing desperately, his chest slamming against the cold metal. Breathless, he nearly cursed out loud.
"Again," he muttered.
"Yuuto"
"Again!"
He pushed himself up, jaw tight, refusing to let the tremor in his leg dictate his limits. Ten minutes of wobbling, collapsing, catching himself against the wall. By the end, his arms were shaking, but he'd lasted a full count of twenty seconds without falling.
Then came the dribbling.
Ms. Sakamoto handed him the ball again as he sat on the bench. "One hundred repetitions," she said. "But don't force it. Stop if you need to."
Yuuto smirked faintly, eyes burning. "Stopping isn't an option."
He started.
The first bounce echoed sharply, filling the rehab room with rhythm. Thud. Thud. Thud. Each impact sent vibrations through his sore palms, sweat dampening the rubber. His back hunched, arms pumping steadily.
By the thirtieth bounce, his shoulders ached. By the fiftieth, his forearms screamed. His body wanted to quit, but his mind refused.
[System: Progress… 57% … 64% … 82%]
"Keep going," Yuuto whispered to himself. "Don't stop. Not now."
Ninety. His chest heaved, breaths shallow. His grip slipped, and the ball nearly rolled away but instinct surged through him, and he snatched it back mid-roll.
Ninety-five. His therapist stepped closer, concern in her eyes. "Yuuto, that's enough"
"One more!" he rasped.
On the 100th bounce, he slammed the ball harder than intended. It ricocheted up wildly, nearly flying out of reach. His reflexes kicked in faster than even he expected and he caught it cleanly, ball snapping into his palm.
A soft chime rang in his ears.
[System: Quest Complete ]
[Reward Gained: +1 Stamina | +2 Control | Passive Skill Unlocked: Iron Will (Lv.1)]
Yuuto's head jerked up, breath ragged.
"...Wait. A new skill?"
Golden letters unfolded before his eyes like banners unfurling in the wind:
Passive Skill: Iron Will (Lv.1)
When close to failure, stamina consumption decreases by 10%. Pain tolerance increases slightly.
Yuuto stared, wide-eyed. He flexed his trembling fingers, then squeezed them into fists. The ache in his muscles was still there but duller, easier to bear. His breath steadied.
It felt like chains had loosened around his body. For the first time since the injury, he didn't feel fragile. He felt… tempered.
Like iron pulled from fire.
He whispered, almost in disbelief. "Iron Will…"
Ms. Sakamoto frowned. "What are you mumbling about?"
Yuuto shook his head quickly. "Nothing. Just… I feel different. Stronger."
She studied him closely but didn't press. Instead, she gave a rare smile. "If you can keep that attitude, maybe you'll surprise even me."
That night, Yuuto lay in bed, the ceiling fan spinning slowly above him. His knee throbbed with the same dull ache, but the pain felt strangely… lighter. Endurable. Like it no longer owned him.
The system's numbers weren't just numbers. They were proof. Proof that he was moving forward, one step at a time.
He curled his hand into a fist, pressing it against his chest. His voice trembled, but his words were steady:
"I'll walk on the court again. No matter what it takes."
The system chimed softly, almost like a whisper in the dark:
[Hidden Progress: "Path of the Comeback" – 2%]
Yuuto closed his eyes, exhaustion pulling him under. But this time, he didn't fall asleep with fear in his chest.
He fell asleep with fire.