The Glass Slipper Upgrade

Morita had a suspicion he was going to regret what he was about to say, not that he had any real choice. He looked up from his charts and met both Reiko’s and Ayaka’s eyes, pausing for a beat before delivering the news.

“I believe we can move to a boot,” he said, already bracing himself. “But only gentle pressure on the foot.”

Ayaka’s arm shot up before he even finished the sentence. Morita was certain she would try to run before she walked. Reiko, meanwhile, had a deep, quiet appreciation in her eyes.

“Thank you, Morita‑sensei.” She bowed her head with genuine gratitude.

Morita closed his eyes for a moment. He could not even count on the coach to keep the athlete in check this time.

“Remember, gentle pressure,” he repeated, fully aware it was probably futile.

The nurse brought in the boot they had measured for her weeks ago, the one stamped with all the national team logos. Reiko smiled the moment she saw it; she had been the one insisting Ayaka needed the reminder that she was still part of the team.

Morita had Ayaka sit on the examination table. He carefully cut away the soft cast that had been holding her back. Ayaka immediately beamed at Reiko; the excitement in her eyes was impossible to hide.

He probed her foot again. She barely reacted; she had grown so used to this routine that it hardly registered anymore. The swelling had gone down considerably. Good. He nodded once, then guided the boot onto her foot. It slipped on as neatly as a glass slipper.

“How does that feel?” he asked, still supporting her heel.

“Great, sensei,” Ayaka said, practically vibrating. “Hey, do you think we can get another one and put blades on the bottom?”

Morita did not even look up. He was far too busy to be dragged into her world today; the number of athletes needing clearance seemed to multiply as the Olympics approached.

“Okay. Try to stand, not walk. Just enough pressure to balance yourself.”

Reiko helped Ayaka down from the exam table. The whole room seemed to hold its breath as she placed her foot on the floor. Ayaka lifted it a few times, almost like she was reacquainting herself with an old friend.

“Feels good, Morita‑sensei,” she said, wiping at fake tears of joy.

The urge to put her back in a cast tugged at him again. He reminded himself to be professional, even if no one else in the room seemed interested in that approach.

“Next, I want you to grab these bars and try to walk,” he instructed. “Use the bars to keep the pressure light, but put some pressure.”

Ayaka grabbed the bars and immediately started forward with far too much enthusiasm.

“Slowly. Gently,” Morita reminded her.

Ayaka caught the nurse smiling at his growing frustration and could not help laughing. She slowed down, trying, for once, to follow directions.

“Slow, gentle, slow, gentle,” she chanted under her breath, as if saying it aloud would keep her from sprinting.

Morita was satisfied with the result as he marked her chart. After a moment of consideration, he simply nodded.

“Let’s get you back on the table.”

Reiko stepped forward immediately to help Ayaka. “Why? Is something wrong?” The worry in her voice almost dampened Ayaka’s good mood.

“No, no,” Morita reassured them. “Everything looks good. Just some final checks and instructions.”

Just in time, Ayaka’s smile stayed intact. Morita noticed that small detail and allowed himself a faint smile as well. He finished his notes, then gently took her foot again and removed the boot.

Another round of inspection. Ayaka, in her head, assured him she was a top‑grade product — at least when it came to skating. Morita prodded a bit more firmly this time, not enough to hurt, but enough for her to notice the difference.

Once he slipped the boot back on, he began explaining the essentials: how to put it on and take it off safely, how to walk, how often she could walk, and how much pressure was acceptable. More instructions than Ayaka had confidence she could remember.

“You might want to write that down and give it all to Reiko‑sensei,” she said, not bothering to hide her concern.

Reiko immediately offered Morita the pen and notebook she carried everywhere. He took a deep breath, accepted them, and began writing everything out.

“Reiko‑sensei, remember to give Kanae a copy,” Ayaka added.

The power dynamic between the three of them made the medical staff wonder, not for the first time, who was actually in charge.

Reiko bowed deeply to the doctor again. “Thank you. This means so much.”

Morita reminded her gently, “This is just one step in the process. I still do not expect her back on the ice until September; late August at the earliest.”

“Late August, got it.” Reiko scooped up Ayaka’s belongings as they prepared to leave.

“At the earliest,” Morita repeated, sounding more defeated than he meant to.

He had come into this battle ready to surrender, so he was not surprised by how quickly he had lost control. He watched the two of them make their way out of the office; Ayaka practically glowing, Reiko already planning the next stage.

At least his next patient would be easier to deal with.

Ayaka waved excitedly, practically dancing on one leg as she tried to show Kaito her new boot. Morita rubbed his eyes so he could pretend he had not seen her. Kaito waved back, a big smile spreading across his face.

“Hayasaka‑san,” a nurse called out.

Kaito stood and headed toward the doctor’s office, still feeling a quiet happiness at seeing Ayaka without her crutches. As he stepped inside, Morita said, “Shut the door, please.”

Kaito turned to close it, pausing for a moment to watch Ayaka waddle away down the hall.

Kaito gave the doctor his usual stiff bow. “Good morning, Morita‑sensei.”

“Good morning, Hayasaka‑san.” Morita forced a friendly tone, hoping to keep Kaito open. “How are you feeling today?”

Kaito rotated his arm to show its mobility, a feat he could not have managed a week ago. He then rubbed his arm after the workout.

“Much better, sensei,” he said. “Better than it has been these past few days.”

He wanted to get back in the pool, but he found it hard to lie to the doctor. He always ended up telling the truth. The truth was that he could tell it was not fully healed.

Morita glanced at Kaito’s chart one last time before standing. “Alright, please sit on the table for me, Hayasaka‑san.”

Kaito sat on the exam table and waited patiently as Morita moved around the desk. The doctor took his arm and rotated it, checking the range of motion. It was improving nicely; not ready for full practices, but close.

Morita returned to his desk and began writing a note to Daichi, informing the coach that Kaito was allowed to do light laps for now. He signed the paper and held it out.

Kaito pushed himself off the table and took the note, his face lighting up when he saw he could swim again. Morita smiled; he knew he would not have to remind this patient to follow doctor’s orders.

Kaito bowed once more. “Thank you.”

It was the second sincere thank you he had received in a row. Maybe being busy today was not so bad.

Morita watched as another happy patient left his office, admittedly less expressive than the last one.