I stared at the phone number on my screen.
It was such a simple action.
Just make the call.
And yet, for some reason, it felt incredibly difficult.
I took a deep breath.
Looked at the number again.
Moved my thumb—then stopped just before pressing it.
“Wait… hold on.”
I wasn’t even sure what I was waiting for.
Maybe I just needed to think it through one more time.
So I went back to the reviews.
“Clear explanations.”
“No pressure.”
“They really listen.”
They all sounded similar,
and somehow, that made them more believable.
But there was one thing that bothered me.
“Kind staff.”
That phrase kept appearing.
Kind is good. Of course it is.
But in my life experience,
“kind” sometimes came with a hidden ending:
“…and here’s the expensive option we recommend.”
Humans learn from experience.
Just then, Misaki leaned over from behind.
“Still thinking about it?”
“Yeah… it looks good, but…
there are too many comments about them being kind.”
She frowned.
“What does that even mean?”
“I don’t know… kind people tend to say ‘we recommend this’ at the end, right?”
“That’s just normal human behavior.”
Fair point.
She looked at the screen and said,
“Why don’t you just call and ask?”
“Well… yeah…”
“It’s just a consultation, right?”
“Probably.”
“Then just ask. No risk.”
She was incredibly simple in moments like this.
And strangely, that helped.
I adjusted my grip on the phone.
This time, I pressed the call button.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
My heart rate climbed for no good reason.
It felt like calling for a job interview.
No—more than that.
This was about my body.
“Thank you for calling ○○ Clinic.”
A calm female voice answered.
For a moment, I froze.
Everything I had prepared disappeared.
“Uh… well… my knee… kind of went… ‘bikí’…”
There it was again.
“Bikí.”
A brief silence followed.
Then, gently:
“You experienced a sudden sharp pain in your knee, correct? When did it start?”
Perfect translation.
My vague “bikí” had just been professionally upgraded.
I felt a little relief and began explaining—
the run, the pain, the lingering discomfort,
the fear of stairs.
She listened carefully, asking only what was necessary.
No pressure. No rush.
“I think it would be reassuring to examine your knee in person.”
It felt natural.
Not like a push—just a suggestion.
“So… about PRP…”
I asked cautiously.
“Yes, we offer PRP, high-concentration PRP, and stem cell therapy.
However, the best approach depends on your condition,
so we would explain everything after an examination.”
Clear. Simple.
Not “choose from our menu,”
but “we’ll find what suits you.”
That alone changed everything.
“Then… could I come in?”
I didn’t even realize I had decided.
The appointment was set quickly.
This week. Sooner than I expected.
After the call, I stared at my phone.
Nothing had healed yet.
The pain was still there.
And yet—
“How was it?” Misaki asked.
“They were… normal. In a good way.”
“That’s exactly what you want.”
She was right.
I sat down slowly and exhaled.
For the first time since the pain started,
I felt like I had taken a step forward.
But at that moment,
I had no idea—
that the “consultation” waiting ahead
would be far more real
than I imagined.
Next: Episode 5
“First Consultation: What the Doctor Told Me”
—Before any treatment, I needed to face the reality of my knee.
