The walk back started quiet. The sun was low in the sky, creating long shadows on the sidewalk. The concrete had cracks from years of settling. The air smelled like cut grass and car exhaust.
Malik dribbled the basketball while walking. The ball made a dull sound each time it hit the pavement. The sound changed when the ball hit uneven areas of the sidewalk.
Darius looked at his cousin. "Why do you spend time with those guys?"
Malik kept dribbling without looking up. "They attend my school. That is the only reason. Do not read more into it."
They walked past a corner store. The metal security shutter was halfway down. The store owner stood in the doorway smoking a cigarette. He watched the street. Two children rode bicycles past them, laughing as they went.
Darius raised his hand to the side of his head. His fingers touched the surgical scar. The skin was still raised above the normal level.
Malik noticed this action. "You have been touching that scar frequently. It is not very noticeable. In a few months it will be even less visible."
Darius shook his head. "I am still going to get a headband to cover it."
Malik smiled slightly. "So they are affecting you."
Darius smiled back. "No. But it is ugly. I will need to cover it."
Both cousins laughed. The sound helped reduce the tension from the basketball game. They turned onto Darius's street while still smiling.
When they reached the house, the yard was active. The grass was worn thin in some areas from children playing during the summer. A group of young cousins were chasing each other around the yard. Music was playing from a speaker on the porch. The volume was moderate but the bass was noticeable. The smell of grilled meat came from the backyard.
Darius's mother saw them from the front steps. "You both smell like you have been in a gymnasium all day. Go shower before you make everyone sick."
Malik grinned. "This is the smell of hard work."
"Hard work smells worse than I expected," she replied.
Inside the house, the hallway was narrow. Family photographs lined the walls, showing birthdays, graduations, and older pictures from before Darius was born. The air was warmer inside and carried food smells from the kitchen. Darius went directly to the bathroom.
Hot water hit his shoulders and ran down his back. This helped relax muscles that had been tense since the basketball game began. Steam fogged the bathroom mirror. He closed his eyes and let the heat penetrate his skin. The water sound covered the noise from other parts of the house.
The Hustle System interface appeared in his mind.
Progress Update: Physical Attributes: +1 Stamina, +1 Strength Mental Attributes: No change
The improvement was small but measurable.
He remained under the water longer than necessary. The heat continued working through his muscles until his skin became pink. Outside the bathroom door, house noise increased. Voices overlapped and laughter came from down the hallway.
Dinner was prepared when he joined his family. The kitchen was brightly lit. Light reflected off plates that did not match each other. The table was crowded with family members. Elbows touched as people passed plates. Multiple conversations occurred simultaneously. Grilled meat smell mixed with barbecue sauce and sweet cornbread cooling on the counter.
His mother leaned toward him. "Tomorrow we will shop for items for your room. You cannot live in an empty space permanently."
Malik smiled. "And buy him clothes that fit properly. He has been wearing mine all week."
"Your clothes are too small anyway," Darius said.
"They fit perfectly," Malik responded. "You are built strangely."
Zaya, sitting two chairs away, spoke up. "The clothes look like they are restricting blood circulation."
Amari laughed. "Maybe that explains why you run slowly."
The table laughed together. Malik pointed his fork at the two girls. "Do not start criticizing. I will make you both run exercise laps."
"You cannot make us do anything," Zaya said while grinning.
Uncle Theo leaned back in his chair. "I will take him shopping myself if you two continue making jokes about his appearance."
"Please do not do that," Darius said. "You will make me look like I am from 1998."
This comment caused another round of laughter. Even his father smiled and shook his head.
Darius smiled and enjoyed the family interaction. The sound filled empty spaces inside him that he had not recognized before.
He was not accustomed to this type of family gathering. When he was Che, moments like this had been uncommon. He had only lived with his older sister. The thought of her appeared suddenly and clearly in his mind.
Darius asked the system silently: How is my sister doing?
The system responded immediately:
She was deeply saddened by your death. In the weeks after your passing, she received support from your college. They paid for funeral expenses and held a memorial ceremony for you. Although she feared being alone, the basketball community and friends supported her. She currently lives in Utah, owns her home, and works at a steady job after completing her college degree.
Darius felt his throat tighten. A tear ran down his cheek before he could prevent it.
His father noticed. "Why are you crying?"
Darius laughed while wiping his face quickly. "Nothing specific. Just grateful that you are all here."
His grandmother leaned closer. "We have always been here. You do not need to cry about that."
Malik smiled. "Save the tears for when I beat you in one-on-one basketball."
"That will not happen," Darius said.
The table laughed again. The moment continued, but Darius remained present in it. He felt grounded and content for the first time in a long period.