A month passed in a steady loop.
Mornings belonged to schoolwork. Darius sat at the kitchen table with his laptop open, the quiet hum of the fridge behind him. Every so often, the clink of dishes came from the sink where someone rinsed a cup or plate. The house was calmer during the day, the kind of stillness that made the scratch of his pen or the click of his keyboard sound louder than they were. Sunlight came in through the window over the sink, cutting a bright rectangle across the table and catching the edge of his notebook.
When the assignments were done, the Hustle System took over. Push-ups. Squats. Planks. Ball-handling drills. Every day. No excuses. The System tracked every rep, every second, every improvement.
The changes were small but visible. His hair had grown out a little, curling at the edges. His shoulders were broader, his arms more defined. He'd gained a little height — just enough to notice when he looked in the mirror. His movements were sharper now, less hesitation in his footwork, more control in his hands.
That afternoon, Malik came home from school. The front door swung shut behind him with a heavy thud. He dropped his backpack by the couch, kicked off his sneakers, and stretched until his back popped. Then he sank into the cushions with a sigh that carried the weight of the whole school day.
"Yo, Darius!" he called out.
No answer. The house stayed quiet.
He stepped into the backyard, where Grandma sat in her lawn chair, shelling peas into a wide metal bowl balanced on her lap. The faint smell of earth and fresh vegetables hung in the air.
"Where's Darius at?" Malik asked.
She didn't even look up. "Park. Playing basketball."
Malik rolled his eyes. "Kid's obsessed lately."
Grandma shrugged, still working. "Mm-hm."
"I'll go get him," Malik said.
She waved him off without looking, like it was the least important thing in the world.
Upstairs, Malik swapped his school clothes for a T-shirt and shorts, laced up his sneakers, and headed out.
The park was warm with late-afternoon sun. The court's asphalt was cracked in places, the paint faded to pale lines, but the rims still stood. A couple of kids sat on the swings nearby, talking quietly. The smell of cut grass drifted in from the field behind the court.
Darius was there, moving with a rhythm Malik hadn't seen before — tighter dribbles, quicker footwork, a smoother release on his jumper. The ball hit the rim and dropped through with a clean snap of the net.
Malik leaned on the fence for a moment, watching. "You're getting better," he called out.
Darius caught the ball, spun it in his hands, and grinned. "I'll get even better."
Malik stepped onto the court. "Yeah, you will."
The System's numbers had been climbing — speed, stamina, shooting — but Darius knew it wasn't enough. Not without real games. Not without pressure.
Malik noticed the look on his face. "What's wrong? You're killing it."
Darius shook his head. "I'm improving, yeah. But it's not enough. I need to play for a team. Real competition."
Malik blinked. "You're serious about basketball?"
Darius gave him a look like the question was ridiculous. "What did you think?"
"I thought you were just messing around. Passing time."
Darius dribbled once, hard. "Nah, man. I want to play ball."
Malik shrugged. "Then wait until high school. It's just six months until summer, and before you know it, it's high school."
"That's six months," Darius said. "Six months of barely improving. I want to join now."
Malik frowned. "Most junior basketball programs are in the city. That's an hour away, so I don't know what to tell you, bro."
"Think Mom would let me join if I asked?"
Malik laughed, realizing he was serious. "Mom and Dad aren't wasting gas driving you every day just to play basketball."
"I could go by myself."
Malik tilted his head. "Not sure about that."
"What if you joined too? It would make it easier for them to say yes."
Malik groaned. "I don't want to play like that."
Darius kept at him. "Come on, man. Just join me. You don't have to do too much — you're just tagging along."
Malik finally sighed. "Fine. But you owe me."
That night, the family gathered for dinner. The table was crowded, voices overlapping, plates passing from hand to hand. The smell of grilled meat mixed with the tang of barbecue sauce and the sweetness of cornbread cooling on the counter. Malik and Darius kept glancing at each other, nudging their heads like they were passing secret signals.
Uncle Theo noticed. "Alright, what's going on with you two?"
The table went quiet. All eyes turned to Darius. He swallowed, then spoke. "Mom, Dad… I was wondering if it was okay with you if I joined a basketball team. With Malik."
His father didn't hesitate. "I'm fine with it."
His mother leaned forward. "Where is it?"
"I don't know yet, but probably the closest one to the neighborhood," Darius said quickly, glancing at Malik for backup.
His mother looked at Darius, then at Malik. "You'll be okay traveling alone, just the two of you?"
"Yes," Darius said.
She sat back, thinking. "I'll think about it."
Darius and Malik exchanged a look.
Theo chuckled. "Didn't think you'd be serious about basketball, to be honest."
"What do you mean?" Darius asked.
"I thought it was just for you to pass time," Theo said.
Darius didn't respond and shrugged.
"That's what I thought too," Malik added.
Later, Darius lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. The faint sound of the TV came from the living room. His parents stepped into the room.
His mother knocked softly on the door. "How's my boy doing?"
"Good. Just thinking, that's all." He sat up from where he'd been lying.
He caught the look on her face. "What's up? Everything okay?"
She sat on the edge of the bed.
"It's nothing… it's just—" She paused. "Honestly, I'm scared, you know. That day of the accident, I truly thought I lost you out there, Darius. I didn't know what to do. You were basically gone, kept alive by machines in the hospital. Those four years… life was just empty. I didn't know how to move forward. I almost gave up, but Grandma…" She chuckled softly. "Grandma told us not to give up. She told us to pray. And we prayed. Every day. The day I saw you open your eyes… you don't know the relief I felt. I cried myself to sleep that night, but it was the happiest I'd been in years.
"Seeing you grow stronger every day has been a blessing. I can't lie — seeing you want to do things like this makes me happy. But I'm also scared. I know you're getting older, and you'll have your own wants and needs. But I'm scared to lose you again. I don't want to see anything happen to you. So when you asked about joining the basketball team, my first thought was to say no. But I'd rather let you live your life than let my fears stop you from living it. I just had to tell you that."
"Mom." Darius scooted closer and put his hand on her shoulder. "You don't gotta worry about me. I'll take care of myself."
"Okay," she said softly, tears starting to fall.
She stood to leave, but Darius got up and hugged her from behind. "But I'll always need you in my life, Ma. I'll always need you to protect me."
She smiled, resting her hand on his arm, still crying quietly in the doorway.