Sunlight filtered through thin, cheap curtains, painting long stripes of light across the white sheets. Genzo lay on the bed, his eyes half-closed, listening to the birds calling to each other outside the window. Somewhere in the distance, a car honked, someone laughed, someone swore, the usual noise of a big city. But here, in the room, it was quiet. Almost too quiet.
Next to the bed stood a glass of water. Ordinary, plastic, with a crack at the bottom. Genzo had been looking at it for several minutes but couldn't bring himself to pick it up. His arms were heavy, as if filled with lead. He yawned, stretched his whole body, feeling his vertebrae crack, and slowly sat up.
His leg no longer hurt.
The cast had been removed yesterday. The doctor said the fracture had healed, but it would be better to stay under observation for a couple more days. Just in case. Genzo didn't argue. He was used to not arguing with doctors.
He pulled back the curtains.
Light flooded the room, bathing everything in warm gold. Outside, the sky was clear, almost without clouds. The trees outside the window had already begun to turn green, and sparrows sat on the branches, chirping loudly about something of their own. Genzo smiled.
- Good day, he said quietly.
The door opened. A doctor entered, a short, elderly man with gray hair and large round glasses. He held a chart in his hands and was writing something, not looking up.
- Good morning, Genzo-kun, he said. How are you feeling?
- Fine, Genzo replied. My head doesn't hurt, my leg doesn't hurt. Even good.
- Sleep?
- Slept soundly. The birds woke me up.
- That's a good sign, the doctor smiled, looking up from the chart. When a person hears birds, it means he...
He didn't finish.
The door burst open with a crash, hitting the wall. A guy stormed into the room. Tall, thin, with short-cropped yellow hair and angry eyes. He was dressed in white clothes and heavy boots. The doctor gasped, stepped back, but the guy grabbed him by the shoulder and shoved him aside.
- Get the fuck out of the way! he barked.
The doctor hit the wall with his back and froze, pressing the chart to his chest. His face turned white.
The guy stepped into the center of the room and stopped, staring menacingly at Genzo. It was Takumi. Genzo recognized him immediately, he had seen him a couple of times in Kaoru's company. The type who always stood slightly behind and stayed silent. Now he wasn't silent.
- You, you bitch! he shouted, pointing at Genzo. You thought it was over? Thought you'd just get away with it?
Genzo looked at him calmly. Not scared. Not angry. Just looked, the way you look at someone speaking a language you don't understand.
- What are you talking about? he asked evenly.
- Don't play innocent! Takumi stepped forward. You know what you did! You ruined everything! Everything we built! Kaoru is furious!
- Kaoru? Genzo smirked. - What do I care about Kaoru?
- You bastard! Takumi clenched his fists. You think you're tough? You think you beat everyone? You're just a weakling who hid in a hospital!
- I was getting treatment, said Genzo. If you haven't noticed, I had a fracture in my leg. Or do you think I broke my legs on purpose just to avoid seeing you?
Takumi growled.
- Don't get smart with me! You know what I mean. We're not done.
Genzo sighed. He picked up the glass of water, took a sip, and put it back down. The calmness irritated Takumi more than any shout.
- You're talking nonsense, said Genzo. I don't know what you've made up, but I have neither the time nor the desire to listen to it.
- Shut up! Takumi roared. You fucking pathetic...
- Takumi, Genzo interrupted, and his voice grew firmer, either you say something relevant or you leave. I'm not going to listen to your shouting. If you want to fight, I'm not in shape. If you want to threaten, I don't care.
Takumi froze. His eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched. He stared at Genzo, and in his gaze was such a mix of anger and confusion that Genzo almost laughed. But he held back.
- You'll regret this, Takumi hissed through his teeth.
Takumi stood for a few more seconds, breathing heavily. Then he turned and walked toward the door. At the very threshold, he stopped. He didn't turn around.
- Know this, he said, it's not over. Kaoru has a plan. She won't forgive you. And none of us will forgive you.
- Say hi for me, said Genzo.
Takumi twitched his shoulder and left, slamming the door loudly behind him. The doctor was still standing by the wall, pressing the chart to his chest, breathing heavily.
- Genzo-kun... he began.
- It's fine, said Genzo. He's just... fucking crazy.
- Should I call security?
- No need. He's gone.
Genzo smirked. Kaoru has a plan. Interesting. What kind? He didn't know. But for some reason, it didn't scare him as much as it should have. Maybe because he had already been through enough not to be afraid of anything else. Or maybe because he knew: Kaoru had never been his enemy. She was just... different.
He sighed and looked out the window. The birds were still singing. The sun was shining. A good day.
About two hours later, Genzo decided to go for a walk.
He couldn't sit still. The room was stuffy, and even the open window didn't help. Genzo pulled on an old black hoodie, slung a small bag with some things over his shoulder, and walked out into the corridor. No one stopped him.
The cast had been removed yesterday. The doctor said the fracture had healed, but it would be better to stay under observation for a couple more days. Genzo remembered his words: The leg is fine. But don't overwork it. Walk slowly. No running. No heavy loads. Genzo nodded and pretended to listen. The doctor smiled, but there was doubt in his eyes.
Walking out of the hospital, Genzo stopped at the doors and looked at the sky. It was bright, blue, with light white clouds. The air smelled of freshness and greenery. Somewhere around the corner, children were playing, laughter and a ringing voice calling someone by name could be heard. Genzo smiled.
He took a few steps forward, enjoying the feeling of freedom. His leg barely hurt. Only occasionally, with sharp movements, something shot in the bone, but it was bearable. He walked slowly, breathing in the spring air, and felt almost happy.
And then someone grabbed his shoulder.
Genzo spun around sharply, ready for anything, but saw a familiar face. A guy. Tall, fit, with short hair and a confident posture. Genzo didn't recognize him at first. Then memory clicked, and he exhaled.
- Shinya?
The guy smiled. Wide, open, friendly.
- Hey, Genzo. Didn't expect to see me?
- Honestly, no, Genzo admitted. You... you've changed.
Shinya nodded. He really had changed. Two years ago, he was completely different: thin, pale, with red eyes and constantly trembling hands. He had been in Kaoru's gang, sold drugs, and hung around shady places. Now, standing before Genzo was a healthy, clear-eyed young man who smelled of freshness and sports.
- I left, said Shinya, as if reading his thoughts. Kaoru. The gang. All that filth. Two years ago.
- And how?
- It was hard. But I managed. Found myself in basketball. You won't believe it, but I played for a local team. Not professionally, but it felt good. And my head is clear now. Don't pump myself with crap anymore.
Genzo looked at him and felt something warm spreading inside. He rarely saw people who actually turned their lives around. Usually it ended in another relapse or prison. But Shinya looked like he had truly found his way.
- I'm happy for you, said Genzo.
- Thanks, Shinya lowered his gaze, then raised it again. I know you're probably surprised. But I wanted to tell you something. You were right.
- About what?
- That there's always a choice. I didn't believe it then. Thought I was stuck forever, that there was no way out. But you told me: If you can't change the world, change yourself. And if you can't even do that, then fuck it all. I remembered. And I tried.
Genzo smiled.
- I didn't think you'd remember.
- I remember everything. Even what I didn't understand at the time. I just needed time.
They fell silent. Behind Shinya, the city was noisy, somewhere children laughed, and the wind carried the scent of flowering trees.
- Been here long? asked Shinya.
- Almost a year, Genzo replied. Fracture in my leg. Took the cast off yesterday.
- Was it hard?
- Been worse.
- Always the same with you, Shinya grinned. You don't even get gloomy in the hospital.
- What's the point of being gloomy? Genzo shrugged.
Shinya looked at the sky. Then glanced at his watch. The smile on his face slowly faded.
- Listen, Genzo... he began, and his voice grew quieter. I have something to tell you.
- What?
- Yesterday, we played against a Russian team. Professional. Scouts, coaches, the whole deal. I thought it was my chance. My ticket to the big game.
He paused. Ran his hand over his face.
- We lost. Badly. I blew it. Missed the deciding shot, lost a pass at the end, let the team down. They looked at me, and I knew, they'd never take me. Never.
Genzo was silent.
- Today they told me I'm not cut out for professional sports, Shinya continued. Started too late. Spent too many years in that gang filth. My body's not right, reflexes aren't right, psychology's off. I lost my career. Forever.
He smirked, bitterly, without joy.
- And now I'm leaving. For good. Tomorrow. To another city. Starting from scratch. Maybe I'll find a job. Maybe I'll just disappear.
Genzo looked at him. At his drooping shoulders, his empty gaze, his hands that were no longer confident.
- I'm sorry, said Genzo.
- Don't be, Shinya shook his head. It's my fault. I chose this path. Now I live with the consequences.
He looked at Genzo. Something like gratitude flickered in his eyes.
- But I wanted to see you. Before I left. Just so you know: I tried. I really did. And even though it didn't work out, I tried.
- That's what matters, said Genzo. You tried. You just... didn't have time.
Shinya nodded. Slowly, thoughtfully.
- Thank you, Genzo. You always knew what to say.
- Don't mention it.
They shook hands. Shinya smiled one last time, a little sadly, but sincerely.
- Good luck, he said.
- Good luck to you too.
Shinya turned and walked away. Fast, decisive, like someone who doesn't want to look back. Genzo watched him until his figure disappeared around the corner.
He stood and thought about how quickly a dream can shatter. One bad game. One missed shot. And how hard it is to find yourself again afterward.
The sunset came slowly.
The sun was setting behind the rooftops, painting the sky in orange and pink tones. The clouds burned with gold, and the wind grew cooler. Genzo stood at the hospital entrance, leaning on the railing, and looked at the city.
He had been in this hospital for a long time. Almost a year. Or a little less. The fracture in his leg just wouldn't heal. But now it was all behind him.
He remembered that he would soon turn eighteen. May 19th. He knew the date, his mother always reminded him a month in advance. She said: You're becoming an adult, Genzo. Now you're responsible for yourself. He didn't know if he felt like an adult. But he knew that it was his birthday, and he wanted to spend it not in a hospital. At least once.
And he also remembered Renji. Whom he hadn't seen in a very long time. They hadn't met even once in an entire year.
Renji's birthday was also coming up soon. He never gave the exact date, said he didn't like holidays. But Genzo remembered: Renji had once mentioned that his birthday was at the end of spring. Around the same time. And Genzo knew he had to go to that event. On the last day.
He already knew the school where Renji studied. He knew everything: the name, the address, what classes Renji had, who his teachers were, who his friends were. Renji had told him all of it, casually, as if it didn't matter. But Genzo remembered every word. Because for him, it mattered.
He thought about how he would meet Renji. What that conversation would be like. What he would say. Whether they could become what they once were again. Or if time had changed too much.
He looked at the sunset and felt a strange calm spreading inside him. Tomorrow was a new day. He would leave the hospital. Return to normal life. And maybe, finally, understand what he needed.