Takeshi's head was down on his desk when lunch started.
He'd gotten maybe two hours of sleep. Three at most if he counted the time he spent lying in bed staring at the ceiling. His eyes felt like sandpaper. His body felt like it was running on some chemical that wasn't actually sustenance, just pure desperate willpower and system notifications he couldn't turn off.
The countdown was always there now: DAYS UNTIL MATCH 1: 2
Everything else was secondary.
Sato plunked down next to him with his usual dramatic entrance. "Dude. You look like death."
"I'm fine," Takeshi mumbled into his desk.
"That's what you said yesterday. And the day before that."
Takeshi didn't answer. Just kept his eyes closed.
Then—footsteps. Different rhythm. He knew that footstep pattern.
Akari appeared at his desk with a bento box in her hands. Homemade. He could tell by the way the rice was perfectly pressed, the vegetables arranged with actual care. She'd made this.
"Takeshi, eat something. Properly."
He looked up, forcing what he hoped was a normal smile. "I ate breakfast."
Her flat look said everything. "Half a rice ball doesn't count."
She set the bento in front of him and just... stood there. Not sitting. Not leaving. Just standing, waiting for something.
"Thanks, but I'm not really hungry... yk"
"Takeshi. We need to talk."
Those four words landed differently. Heavy. Final.
Sato immediately stood up. "I'm gonna... go. Somewhere else. Good luck, man." Traitor.
Now it was just them. The classroom noise continued around them—normal lunch chaos—but it felt distant. Akari sat in Sato's vacated seat and didn't pull out her own lunch. Just looked at him with eyes that saw through every excuse he'd prepared.
"You're not okay," she said.
"I'm fine, really—"
"Don't. Don't do that."
She leaned forward slightly, her jaw tight.
"You barely sleep. I can see the bags under your eyes. You skip meals. You think I don't notice? You train until you can barely walk. You're here but you're not here."
That last part hit something in him. Here but not here. Yeah. That was accurate.
"The team needs me. We have 8 games..."
"I know about the 8 games!" Her voice went up, drawing glances from nearby students. She caught herself and lowered it, but the intensity didn't fade. "Everyone knows. The whole school knows Tokyo FC is dying."
She was leaning forward now, hands clenched on the desk.
"But you can't save them if you destroy yourself first."
Silence stretched between them. Long enough that he could hear the cafeteria noise properly again. Long enough that he had no more excuses lined up.
"Choose," she said quietly.
"What?"
"Right now. Choose."
Her eyes were wet but she wasn't crying. That somehow made it worse, the control it took to stay composed while clearly falling apart.
"Football or us. Your team or the people who actually care about you. Because you can't have both if you keep doing this."
She stood up before he could respond. Grabbed her lunch box. Grabbed her bag.
"When you figure out what matters, let me know."
Walking away.
Leaving him there.
Afternoon classes were impossible.
He couldn't focus on anything. Her words just played on repeat: "You're here but you're not here."
Thinking back over the past few days. Akari texting him, he'd responded with one word. Her waiting after practice, he'd said he had extra drills. Her bringing him notes when he skipped class. he'd barely thanked her.
Oh.
Oh no.
After school, he walked toward the training ground on autopilot. The system notification popped up:
QUEST UPDATE: 2 DAYS UNTIL MATCH 1
TEAM MORALE: 84%
YOUR CONDITION: DECLINING
WARNING: Burnout detected
Even the system was calling him out. Great.
He stood outside the training ground. The team was inside already, warming up. He could go in. Push through. Ignore everything else like he'd been doing.
But.
His past life hit him all at once. Thirty-four years old. Dying alone. No one at his bedside. No one who cared. Because he'd pushed everyone away for football.
And in the end, he'd lost both.
His hands were shaking as he pulled out his phone.
Stared at Akari's contact.
His thumb hovered.
What matters?
The system quest or the girl who made him lunch?
Saving Tokyo FC or keeping the people who actually save him?
It's not either-or, you idiot.
Typing: "Can we talk? Please?"
Her reply took five minutes. The longest five minutes of his life.
"Park. 6 PM. Don't be late."
He wasn't going to be late.
The small neighbourhood park was mostly empty. Just an old woman with a dog and some kids on the swings. Akari was already there, sitting on a swing, not moving. Just waiting.
Takeshi sat on the swing beside her.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Just the creak of chains and distant Tokyo traffic.
"I'm sorry," he said finally.
"For what specifically?"
Not letting him off easy. Good. He deserved this.
"For being an idiot. For pushing you away. For not seeing what you've been doing for me. For taking you for granted."
She was quiet. Then: "I'm not asking you to quit football."
"I know."
"I'm not asking you to stop caring about your team."
"I know."
"I'm asking you to stop disappearing."
Finally, looking at him. "You did that for three years already. Remember?"
That hit different. The three years he'd wasted in depression after moving back to Japan.
"I'm scared," he admitted. The words felt foreign coming out. "If we lose, if we get relegated... I lose everything, all of it. So I'm trying to control it by working myself to death."
She didn't ask about the system. She just understood.
"You can't control everything, Takeshi."
She stood up from the swing, facing him properly. "Sometimes you lose. Sometimes things don't work out. But if you burn out before the fight even starts... then you've already lost."
Her voice wasn't angry anymore. Just honest. Tired.
"And I refuse to watch you lose to yourself again."
He stood too. "Okay. You're right. I'll cut back the morning sessions to three times a week. I'll actually eat the lunches you make." Small smile from her at that. "I'll sleep more than two hours. And I'll be here. Actually here. Not just physically. Mentally too."
He paused.
"I promise. No more disappearing."
"And you'll tell me when it gets bad," she said. "When the pressure is too much. You won't just handle it alone."
He hesitated. Old habits dying hard.
She stepped closer.
"Promise me, Takeshi."
"...I promise."
Something shifted in the air between them. Not quite romance—too early, too raw. But something deeper than friendship. Understanding. Trust. Partnership.
"Good," she said. "Because you're stuck with me now."
He couldn't help the smile. "I don't think I mind that."
"You better not."
They walked home together, side by side. Comfortable silence. His phone buzzed with the team group chat, but he just put it away. For the first time in days, his chest felt less tight.
At her house, stopping at the gate:
"So. Tomorrow," she said.
"Tomorrow?"
"Lunch. We're eating together. Properly. And you're telling me about the match coming up. Everything. Not just 'it's fine.'"
Him laughing despite himself: "You're bossy."
"Someone has to be."
She turned to go inside, then stopped.
"Takeshi?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm glad you're here. Actually here."
She walked inside before he could respond, leaving him standing there with a stupid smile on his face.
His phone buzzed. System notification:
CONDITION IMPROVED
MENTAL STATE: STABILIZING
NEW STAT UNLOCKED: EMOTIONAL SUPPORT
BONUS: Team morale +5% when personal life balanced
Even the system approved.
Walking home, Takeshi set his alarm for 6 AM instead of 5:30 AM. Small progress.
His phone showed a goodnight text from Akari: "Sleep well. You need it."
For the first time in days, he actually fell asleep easily. No spiraling. No anxiety.
Just peace.
Maybe he could do both. Save the team and keep the people who mattered.
Maybe that's what being alive actually meant.