Hall Of Fame System

"You can't take part in the match, Mr Kein. You have two choices, return to the field until you are fully recovered or you can join your friends now and go home without a leg. How's about that?" a nurse looked furious and annoyed every time a patient whined about leaving the room.

A young man named Nicolas Kein seemed unhappy with the answers and questions. Right now all he wanted was to get back to training as a basketball player, which he had dreamed of since he was a child. Moreover, he could not participate in crucial matches because of a knee injury.

Nicolas Kein is known for being an even-tempered yet soft-spoken young man. His personality is loved by his coach and teammates. But not a few found him boring and unlike any other living being.

"Mr Kein. I apologise for having to say that for the first time during my time as a nurse. I completely understand your passionate feelings, but you must understand your condition and health. Your career will be ruined if the injury to your knee gets worse. I'm not lying, but the doctor told me he will do his best to heal and restore your performance as quickly as possible.

"It's not a matter of you losing your chance. It's how you can handle your emotions that can be quite troublesome for the nurses here."

A long sigh escaped from his nose. Nicolas Kein tried to understand and comprehend that what the nurse said was right and for the best. After all, after seeing the look on the nurse's face, he allowed her to speak up again.

"I'm sure there is something else to say."

The nurse suddenly became gloomy. She didn't seem to have the heart to say this but it had to be done.

"We... We got news from your family... to tell you. That your... family... has been declared dead... due to a plane crash." The nurse lowered her gaze. She couldn't bear it and didn't want to witness the kind of expression Nicolas Kein was showing. Despite not being part of his family, the nurse experienced a sense of empathy when she heard the terrible news ringing in her ears.

Nicolas Kein did not open his mouth. He seemed to want to run and head for his home, but he couldn't like he was shackled by some kind of chain on his leg. His heart was beating faster and faster, his body temperature was suddenly hot and cold and finally, his eyes filled with tears.

"Nurse. I don't care about the match. But can I go back to my home and see them one last time?" His voice sounded hoarse and heart-wrenching, his hands trying to hold back the tears trying to release his emotions.

"Of course, Mr Kein. Of course. I'd be the devil if I kept you from meeting your family. Let me help you." The nurse looked helpless after hearing the news of their deaths.

After placing her hand on Kein's neck, the nurse took him to the emergency driver's office. During on the road, Nicolas Kein was unaccompanied by anyone other than the driver who was busy ahead of other motorists. Because of their speed, some policemen on duty planned to chase them. However, the siren was sounded to signify that the ambulance was carrying a patient.

The driver didn't entertain him at all and focused on the crowded road at night. The horns of other drivers had complained about the world being too small for them while on the other hand, a young man looked blank and heard nothing but the voices of his family joking at the dinner table.

Nicolas Kein was just not ready to see his family when their lives had already left their bodies and would never return. His face was flushed as if he needed some space to calm his mind but the road conditions were not favourable.

"Sorry, sir. Our journey has been delayed a little longer than we expected. Please take a short nap before reaching your home. Keep your head and heart cool."

Kein was grateful that the driver made an effort to calm him down, but telling him to go to sleep? What kind of crazy person could fall asleep when they heard that their beloved family had died? Even Kein, who hardly ever forgot his dreams, was now empty and meaningless when the person he looked up to in pursuing sports had to leave.

His head leaned against the windscreen as he looked at the upset and hurried faces. In shock, he could not even remember anything other than his memories with his family before he was diagnosed with a six-month knee injury. Always lying on a hospital bed and was prohibited from strenuous activity until he fully recovered.

Arriving at the front of the house, Kein could see many people crowding around his house. Some of them were close friends, while most of them were people he didn't know and had barely met.

The driver pressed the horn to shoo away the guests who blocked the driveway. He even shouted.

"Get out of the way! I have Nicolas Kein in my car!" Suddenly, they dispersed and made way for the wide-open door of the house.

Getting out of the car with the help of the driver, Kenn walked with armpit crutches in his left hand. His face stared at the door with no regard for the guests who were also condoling the death of his family.

"He's a tough boy. I don't see any tear marks on his face."

"No one knows. It's possible that he had a flat face and didn't care about his father's death."

Those words really broke his heart. But for now, he wanted to see his family in front of his eyes right now. There were three crates in the centre of the large room. Two large crates were for his father and mother, while one small crate was for his five-year-old sister.

'Dad. Mum. Sofia. I'm back. I'm sorry I couldn't make you happy while you were alive. I didn't expect to come to a time when success was right in my eyes but had to be cancelled when I was injured. I'm sure if at that time I..." Kein was unable to continue. This time his tears were flowing like a leaking dam.

His chest was ten times more tight since he first heard of his family's death. He literally could not inhale oxygen or air to stabilise his lungs. His right hand squeezed his chest along with a moan of pain that attracted almost all the guests in the house.

As many people watched, only one person approached him. The steps sounded so heavy and hurried as if they were chased by time. But that was nothing new to Kein. He knew his uncle very well who had also participated in taking care of Kein when he was twelve months old. Kein always called his uncle 'Uncle Roberto', even though the person called by that name never accepted the call.

A broad finger gently tapped Kein's shoulder. His uncle had not come here as Anthony Kein's next of kin in the greeting session. But his arrival was to try to calm down the nephew who would live without the love of his biological family.

'Don't take it too hard, Nicolas. You are a strong young man. Uncle will always be with you and fulfil your needs.'

That sounded very helpful to Kein and it wasn't just bullshit. But somehow it wasn't supposed to be said when he was having trouble expressing his emotions beyond tears. Kein just wanted them back to life, his leg healed, and a crucial tournament in his career that his family would watch.

However, all of that was fiction and none of it materialised.

The night had passed, and getting the chance to see his family's faces, the three crates were transported in three different ambulances to a cemetery only ten minutes away.

His uncle tried to get Kein to go to the family funeral, but he simply did not want to.

'Go away, Uncle. I can't bear to see my family buried under the feet of millions of lying human beings.'

Roberto could not force his decision and left Kein in the quiet, dimly lit bedroom. He was the only one who hadn't slept all night and preferred to chat with his family one last time.

There was no energy left and Kein could no longer hold his eyes. His body would collapse if he was forced to cry any longer without eating or drinking for a full twelve hours. Finally, his body seemed to be telling Kein to rest immediately to normalise his body condition.

As he drifted off into a dark and uneventful dream, his mobile phone was already receiving notifications that were piling up but still being ignored. One of them was a message from a contact named 'Damiaan'.

(We're sorry, Kein. We couldn't bring you victory last night).