Bryan led Dranred into James's private room. Inside, Rosette and Estelle were already there, sitting near the hospital bed. James lay with one leg in a cast, his face pale but alert. When the door opened, all three turned toward the newcomer.
"How are you?" Dranred asked quietly.
"Red?" Rosette whispered when she recognized his voice. Dranred's eyes flicked briefly toward her, then back to James.
"So, did you come here to see if I can still play in the next game?" James asked sharply.
"James!" Rosette and Estelle said in unison.
"Fine," James muttered, giving up. "I'm okay. The doctor said it's just a strain from overexertion." He looked up at Dranred again. "Or did you come to make sure this doesn't weigh on your conscience?"
Dranred's jaw tightened. "Is that really what you think of me?"
"Isn't it?" James shot back, meeting his gaze.
"James, please," Estelle said, standing up and moving closer to her brother. "You've seen he's fine. You can go now," she told Dranred coolly.
"Estelle," Rosette murmured in protest.
"It's okay," Dranred said softly. "I just wanted to see if you were alright." He turned back to James. "It looks like I don't have to worry." He gave a small nod and began to step back. "I'll be going—"
"No. Stay."
Dranred stopped. Everyone looked at James, surprised.
"There's something I want to talk about," James said. "Estelle, can you get the envelope from my bag?"
Estelle frowned but obeyed. She reached into the bag and froze when she saw the familiar envelope.
"That's—" Dranred began.
"It is," James interrupted. "It hurts my pride to accept help from you, but I guess this is the right thing to do—for Rosette."
"James…" Rosette whispered, her voice trembling.
"More than my pride, my sister means more to me," James continued. "And if swallowing that pride means she gets her eyesight back, then I'll do it. It's hard to admit, but it's the truth."
He looked at Dranred squarely. "You have my consent for Rosette's eye operation."
Rosette suddenly stood up, moved to James's side, and took his hand. Tears shimmered in her eyes as she turned to Dranred.
"Don't misunderstand," James said firmly. "I'm not giving my consent because I've forgiven you. I'm doing this for her."
Inside, Dranred felt a quiet rush of relief. Whatever James's reason was, it didn't matter. What mattered was that Rosette would finally have the chance to see again.
"Then we can set the schedule for her operation," Dranred replied, turning toward Rosette. He couldn't help but smile as his thoughts drifted ahead — imagining her sitting in the stands, watching him and James play together once more. If the surgery could happen soon, she might even make it to Game Seven. All he had to do now was make sure they got to Game Seven. The thought alone filled him with determination.
With Peter's help, Dranred immediately began arranging the surgery. He wanted only the best doctors for Rosette — specialists with proven skill and experience. Nothing less would do.
James was discharged from the hospital shortly after, choosing to stay by his sister's side throughout her treatment. He accompanied Rosette to the medical center where the operation would take place, still walking with a slight limp from his own injury but refusing to let her see his discomfort.
Dranred followed them there, watching quietly from a distance as they spoke to the doctors. A mix of relief and gratitude welled up inside him — relief that Rosette would finally have the chance to regain her sight, and gratitude that James, despite everything that had come between them, had chosen compassion over pride.
For Dranred, that was victory enough.
James arrived at the hospital with Estelle and Bryan. When Dranred saw him, he immediately noticed the crutches under his arm — a painful reminder of what the doctor had told him earlier: James shouldn't push himself to play basketball again. The X-ray results weren't good. If he continued, he risked not only his career, but the use of his leg for life.
James knew his condition, but pride wouldn't let him accept it. How could his career end now, just when his dreams were within reach? And standing in front of him was Dranred — the one rival he'd always wanted to defeat. The irony burned inside him.
"Don't be scared, okay?" Estelle said softly, squeezing Rosette's hand as they approached the operating room.
"You'll be fine," James added, forcing a smile.
Rosette nodded. "Red," she said quietly.
"Yes. I'm here," Dranred replied, stepping closer.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"Save those words for after the surgery — when you can finally see again," he said with a gentle smile. Rosette's lips curved in return. The thought of seeing her brothers — and Dranred — after so long filled her with a joy she couldn't hide.
"Please take care of her," Dranred told the doctors. They nodded before wheeling Rosette into the operating room.
The hallway outside fell silent. They sat waiting — James clutching his crutch, Estelle fidgeting with her necklace, Bryan watching the clock, and Dranred staring at the red light above the OR door, praying it would soon turn green.
Meanwhile, at the Falcon's training facility, Drake had just received a call from James's therapist. The news hit him like a cold wave — James wasn't supposed to play anymore. His leg couldn't handle the strain. If he kept going, he might never walk properly again.
Drake couldn't believe it. James was their key to victory, the one who could match Dranred's intensity. Without him, beating the Phoenix seemed impossible.
"He knows the risk," the therapist said. "You need to convince him to stop before it's too late."
But in Drake's mind, the thought twisted. Stop James now? Not when they were one win away from the championship. He hadn't fought this far just to watch their dream slip away.
If James wanted to play, Drake wasn't going to stop him — no matter the cost.