The rehab center was unusually quiet that morning. The distant echo of basketballs bouncing in other gyms usually a rhythm of life was strangely absent. The polished floor reflected the pale sunlight that filtered through tall windows, streaks of gold slicing across the hardwood.
Yuuto leaned against the wall, crutches tucked neatly beside him. The basketball rested just at his feet, tempting him like an old friend he had almost lost. His fingers twitched involuntarily. His heartbeat sped up, a percussion in his chest that matched the silent rhythm of the empty room.
Today, there were no chairs. No crutches. No safety net.
This was it.
A soft chime pulsed in his vision.
[System Notification]
Side Quest Available: "Dribble with Determination"
Attempt to stand without crutches (3 tries) Dribble 30 times while maintaining balance No falling allowed
Reward: +1 Dribbling | +1 Willpower | Chance to Unlock: Basic Handles
Yuuto swallowed, his throat tight. "No falling, huh… guess that means this is going to hurt."
He pushed off the wall, one hand gripping the ball, the other bracing against his thigh. The knee under him trembled like a sapling in a storm. Every fiber of his leg protested.
"One step… come on…" he whispered.
Pain shot like lightning, sharp and sudden, radiating from his knee up into his hip. Yuuto's body betrayed him, and he collapsed back onto the chair, chest heaving.
[Progress: 0/3 Successful Stands]
He let out a shaky breath. Sweat trickled down his temples and neck, stinging his eyes. His knuckles whitened around the basketball.
"I'm not stopping here," he muttered, voice raw. "I can't stop."
The silence of the gym pressed against him. It felt heavier than the pain, as if the empty room were testing his resolve. He tightened his grip on the ball, flexing his fingers as though sheer willpower could steady his trembling legs.
This time, he placed the ball on the ground first, using it as a tentative support. Slowly, carefully, he planted his foot, then the other. His knees wobbled, arms outstretched as if balancing on a high wire.
"Stand. Just… stand…" he muttered, sweat matting his hair against his forehead.
The floor swayed beneath him or maybe it was his vision. He felt every micro-muscle in his legs screaming for relief, his core trembling under the effort. Five seconds passed. Then six.
And he stayed upright.
Until gravity betrayed him. His knee buckled, and he crashed back into the chair.
Yet a soft chime rang in his ears.
[Progress: 1/3 Successful Stands]
Yuuto laughed between breaths, a shaky, breathless sound that was half relief, half disbelief. "That counts…? I'll take it."
By the third try, his jaw ached from clenching, teeth grinding. He forced himself upright, both hands gripping the ball, muscles trembling but refusing to yield.
"Balance… balance… don't quit…" he muttered repeatedly.
Seconds stretched into minutes. Thirty seconds passed. His vision blurred from sweat and effort. His chest rose and fell in ragged rhythm.
Then a minute.
And he was still standing.
The sense of victory was almost surreal, as though he'd reached a summit without leaving the ground. The ball rested heavy in his hands, an extension of his resolve.
[Progress: 3/3 Successful Stands]
Yuuto exhaled deeply, his breath shaking in his chest. The quiet gym suddenly felt alive. He could hear his heartbeat, loud and defiant, echoing in the polished floors.
The real test began now. The ball in his hands felt heavier, more real, more alive than before. He crouched slightly, lowering the basketball, fingers spread wide for control. The first bounce was tentative.
Thump.
The ball returned obediently to his palm.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
By the tenth dribble, his knee burned, a dull heat radiating through his leg, demanding surrender. His arms quivered from holding his stance and controlling the ball simultaneously.
By the twentieth, sweat blurred his vision. His chest felt tight, his lungs begging for air, but his mind remained razor-sharp.
"Thirty… I can do thirty…" he whispered to himself.
Each bounce became a drumbeat of determination. A testament that he wasn't broken. That he could still fight.
The thirtieth bounce echoed loudly, reverberating in the empty gym like a battle cry.
[Quest Complete ]
Reward Gained: +1 Dribbling | +1 Willpower
Skill Unlocked: Basic Handles (Lv.1)
Golden letters floated before him:
Basic Handles (Lv.1)
Grants 5% smoother ball control when stationary or in light movement Increases resistance against losing the ball under pressure
Yuuto's chest rose and fell violently. His hands trembled around the ball, slick with sweat. He had dribbled. Really dribbled. Not in a chair. Not in his dreams. On his feet.
A grin spread across his face, exhaustion mingling with triumph. "This… this is real," he whispered. "I'm back. Step by step."
The gym seemed smaller now, the floor less intimidating. For the first time, the empty hardwood wasn't a reminder of what he'd lost it was a canvas for what he could build.
The door clicked open. Ms. Tanaka stepped in, carrying resistance bands, and froze. Her eyes widened at the sight of Yuuto, drenched in sweat, gripping the ball, standing unaided.
"Yuuto… what did you just do?" she asked, voice a mixture of disbelief and caution.
Yuuto turned slowly, grinning through exhaustion. "I… took my first step back."
Her lips parted as if to scold, but she caught herself. The fire in his eyes was undeniable. Instead, she sighed softly. "Then let's make sure you don't burn yourself out too soon," she said, taking in his posture and the sweat-matted hair.
Yuuto nodded, ball clutched to his chest, feeling the pulse of the system within him.
[Hidden Progress: "Path of the Comeback" 10%]
For the first time in weeks, he wasn't just following orders in rehab. He wasn't just going through motions. He was playing basketball again.
Even seated dribbles had taught him control, precision, and patience but standing, balancing, and moving? That was freedom. That was progress. That was life returning.
He rolled the ball between his hands, fingers tracing the familiar grooves, feeling the texture and weight. His leg still throbbed with fatigue and pain, a reminder that he was only human. But it no longer scared him.
"I'm coming back," he whispered into the empty gym. "One step at a time. One bounce at a time. No excuses."
The sun outside streaked across the polished floor, catching the basketball in a halo of gold light. Yuuto smiled, standing tall.
For the first time since the injury, the court felt like home.