March 20th.
The orthopedic clinic near Suidobashi, a place that has seen too many athletes come through with the same quiet hope and the same reluctant patience.
Ryoma sits on the examination chair with his right hand resting on a cold tray, fingers loosely curled, swelling noticeably reduced compared to weeks ago but not gone.
Dr. Hayashi studies the latest X-rays under the light, glasses sliding slightly down his nose as he leans closer.
"The inflammation has improved," he says calmly. "That's good news. But the fractures are still there. They haven't fused yet."
Ryoma exhales slowly, already expecting it. He flexes his fingers a fraction, stopping short when a dull ache answers back. It's no longer sharp pain, just a reminder that the bone remembers what happened.
Nakahara steps forward, hands tucked into his jacket sleeves. "How much longer?" he asks. "The doctor in Australia said six to eight weeks after the fight."
