326 Christmas Gifts

The ripples shimmered, and the sound of water flowed gently, as the golden sunlight of winter in Kansas City filtered sparsely through the treetops, casting dappled patterns on the surface of the indoor swimming pool.

A sturdy yet slender figure swam straight along the lane, and upon close observation, one could notice that he primarily propelled himself using his upper body, his legs not exerting much force, merely faintly flapping to aid his movement.

The pace was not fast, even slow, but he remained focused, meticulously swimming with precision as if he was using every muscle in his body to feel the nuances of his exertion, his soul completely merging with the water.

On the shore, a man dressed in a dark blue hospital rehabilitation uniform followed along the lane, maintaining his focus and close observation, yet he did not speak to break the silence, leaving only the sound of swimming quietly flowing in the air.

This was rehabilitation—

Tedious. Long. Slow.