The alarm clock was screaming like a banshee, but Takeshi's body felt like it had been hit by a truck.
What the hell—7:30 AM?
He bolted upright in bed, panic shooting through him like ice water. He'd overslept by three whole hours. Seven days of perfect 4:30 AM wake-ups, seven days of twenty-mile runs before dawn, and now he'd fucked it all up because his eight-year-old body had finally said "enough."
No, no, no. The system's gonna penalize me. My streak is broken.
For a moment, he just sat there staring at his Star Wars alarm clock, feeling like the world's biggest failure. In his previous life, this kind of perfectionist thinking had driven him insane—everything had to be exact, rigid, obsessive.
But then his mom's voice drifted up from downstairs.
"Takeshi! Breakfast is ready!"
And something weird happened. Instead of the crushing disappointment he expected, he felt... relief?
When was the last time I got to sleep and eat breakfast with my family?
In his original timeline, by age ten he'd been so focused on training that family breakfasts became a thing of the past. By his twenties, he'd been too hungover to remember what normal morning routines felt like.
Fuck it. I'll run tonight instead.
[QUEST UPDATE: Daily routine adapted - Flexibility bonus unlocked]
[New trait gained: Work-Life Balance Level 1]
Even the system seemed to approve of him not being a complete psycho about schedules.
School was... actually incredible.
Takeshi walked into his classroom and for the first time in either of his lives, he wasn't thinking about football stats or training regimens or the crushing weight of expectations. He was just a kid walking into a room full of other kids.
"Takeshi-kun!" Yuki Tanaka practically bounced in her seat, waving at him with that infectious smile. In his previous life, she'd been invisible, just another classmate he'd barely noticed. Now he could see what he'd missed. She always shared her lunch with kids who forgot theirs. How she helped the slower students with their homework without making them feel stupid. The way she made everyone feel included.
How was I so blind to the good people around me?
"Morning, Yuki-chan," he said, genuinely happy to see her.
"You look different today," she said, tilting her head like a curious puppy. "Less... intense."
Less like a tortured adult soul trapped in a kid's body, you mean.
"Just got some good sleep for once."
Math class was actually fun. When Sensei Watanabe asked about fractions, Takeshi's hand shot up without thinking.
"If you have three-quarters of a pizza and eat half of that, how much pizza is left?"
"Three-eighths!" Takeshi called out, and the whole class burst into applause when he got it right.
Since when did math make me feel good?
At lunch, instead of wolfing down his food and thinking about afternoon training, he actually listened to his friends' conversations. Hiroshi was telling this elaborate story about catching his older brother kissing his girlfriend, complete with dramatic reenactments that had everyone dying laughing.
"So I'm hiding behind the door, right?" Hiroshi whispered conspiratorially. "And they're doing that gross mouth-touching thing adults do, and I'm trying not to throw up—"
"It's called kissing, you idiot," Kenji interrupted, throwing a rice ball at him.
"Disgusting is what it is!" Hiroshi shot back, dodging the food. "Why would anyone want to swap spit with another person?"
Takeshi nearly choked on his milk. If only you knew, kid.
"Takeshi's laughing!" Sato pointed at him in amazement. "Like, actually laughing! Usually you just sit there looking all serious and scary."
In my previous life, I was so obsessed with being 'professional' that I forgot how to be human.
"Maybe I'm finally learning what fun is," Takeshi said, meaning every word.
During recess, they played a chaotic game of football that had zero tactics and maximum joy. Kids were arguing about every call, celebrating goals like they'd won the World Cup, falling over dramatically whenever someone breathed on them.
And Takeshi loved every ridiculous second of it.
This is what football should feel like. Pure happiness.
It happened during afternoon classes.
Takeshi was walking back from the bathroom when he glanced through the window of Class 3-B, and his heart literally stopped beating.
There she was.
Sitting by the window, sunlight making her long black hair shine like silk. Her chin was resting on her hand as she stared out at the schoolyard, that same dreamy expression he'd memorized a lifetime ago. Even at eight years old, she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
Oh God. It's really her.
All those feelings he'd buried, all those memories he'd tried to drown in alcohol, came crashing back like a tsunami. The air left his lungs in a rush, and for a moment, he thought he might actually pass out.
She was everything. She was my whole world.
The memories hit him in waves:
Age thirteen, nervous and sweating as he'd asked her to be his girlfriend behind the gymnasium. Her shy smile when she'd said yes. The way his heart had felt like it might explode from happiness.
Age fifteen, her cheering louder than anyone else when he scored his first goal for Tokyo FC's youth team. Running straight to the fence afterward to hug her, not caring that everyone was watching.
Age sixteen, studying together in the library. How she'd help him with his English homework while he helped her with math. The way she'd scrunch up her nose when she was concentrating.
Age seventeen, lying on the grass in the park, talking about their future. She'd wanted to be a teacher. He'd wanted to play for Japan's national team. They'd planned it all out like they had forever.
"Promise me something," she'd said that day, turning to face him with those serious dark eyes. "Promise me that no matter how famous you get, you'll still be you. My Takeshi."
"Always," he'd promised. "Nothing will ever change that."
But everything had changed. Liverpool's offer had come when he was eighteen, and suddenly she'd seemed like dead weight. A distraction from his destiny.
The memory of their last fight hit him like a physical blow:
"You're really going to throw this away?" she'd whispered, tears streaming down her face. "Throw us away?"
"This isn't real, okay?" he'd snapped, drunk on his own arrogance and the attention from scouts. "We're kids playing pretend. I have actual opportunities now. A real future."
"I love you," she'd said, voice breaking.
"Love doesn't win trophies," he'd replied coldly. "Love doesn't pay the bills. Grow up."
He'd walked away that night thinking he was being mature. Practical. Smart.
I was such a fucking monster.
He'd never seen her again. By the time he'd realized what he'd thrown away—what he'd destroyed—it was too late. Different schools, different cities, different lives. He'd tried to find her once during his darkest Liverpool days, but she'd vanished like smoke.
She was the only person who loved me for me, not for what I could do with a football. And I threw it away like garbage.
Now here she was, eight years old again, completely innocent and unaware that the boy staring at her through the window had once broken her heart and spent the rest of his life regretting it.
As if sensing his gaze, she looked up. Their eyes met through the glass, and for a heartbeat, time stopped. She smiled—that same radiant, trusting smile that used to make him feel like he could conquer the world.
He tried to smile back, but his face felt frozen. His throat was closing up.
She doesn't know me yet. To her, I'm just some random kid.
But this time... this time I'll do it right.
The bell rang, breaking the spell. She turned back to her teacher, and Takeshi stumbled away from the window, his whole body shaking.
This time, I won't be the arrogant piece of shit who chooses ambition over love.
This time, I'll prove that some people really can change.
That evening, Takeshi laced up his running shoes with hands that were still trembling.
Twenty miles felt impossible after the emotional hurricane of the day, but he needed to move. Needed to process the storm of feelings threatening to tear him apart.
The first mile was agony. His legs were still shot from a week of insane training, and his mind was spinning with memories—the good ones that made his chest ache, and the terrible ones that made him want to throw up.
Keep going. Don't stop.
By mile five, the rhythm was helping. Left foot, right foot, breathe in, breathe out. The mechanical simplicity was soothing his chaotic thoughts.
She was my first everything. First kiss, first love, first heartbreak.
Mile ten. His breathing was steady now, but his emotions were still a mess.
I chose football over her. I chose fame over love. And look how that worked out—dead at thirty-four, alone and forgotten.
Mile fifteen. The endorphins were kicking in, clearing the fog in his head.
But this time is different. This time I know what really matters.
Mile eighteen. His legs were screaming, but his resolve was getting stronger.
I'll be her friend first. I'll show her who I really am underneath all the football bullshit. I'll prove I'm worth her time.
Mile twenty. He stopped at the edge of the school grounds, hands on his knees, lungs burning.
[QUEST COMPLETE: Flexible training schedule maintained]
[Emotional processing bonus: +2 Mental, +1 Physical]
[New skill unlocked: Heartfelt Determination Level 1]
The system notifications flickered, but for once he barely noticed them. He was staring up at the school building, at the window where she'd been sitting earlier.
Wait, I can fix things with her this time...
This time, I won't lose you. This time, I'll be the person you deserve from the very beginning.
This time, love won't be something I sacrifice for ambition.
The broken man who'd died alone would have mocked him for being sentimental. But that man was gone, buried with all his regrets and failures.
The boy standing under the stars had been given the impossible—a second chance at everything. Football, family, and the one person who'd made his first life worth living.
And this time, he wasn't going to waste a single moment of it.
Just wait. You don't know it yet, but I'm going to spend every day proving that people really can change.
Starting tomorrow.