Morning light stabbed through his eyelids.
Ren Takahiro groaned softly, instinctively expecting the usual stiff ache in his lower back, the dull throb in his knees, the weight of thirty-five exhausted years pulling down on him.
But the pain… wasn't there.
His body felt strangely light. Too light. As if gravity had loosened its grip on him.
Ren's eyes snapped open.
A ceiling he hadn't seen in almost two decades stared back at him.
White. Clean. The faint stain shaped like a crooked cloud—
He remembered that stain.
His breath stopped.
No way…
He slowly sat up, hands trembling as he pressed his palms against his thighs. The muscles beneath his skin didn't feel like the aging, overworked fiber he'd gotten used to—
They felt young. Responsive. Smooth.
Alive.
Heart pounding, Ren pushed himself off the bed and stumbled toward the mirror beside his desk.
And when he saw his reflection—
His entire world cracked.
A seventeen-year-old boy stared back at him.
Short, dark hair with that rebellious strand falling over his forehead.
Clear eyes without the fatigue of adulthood.
No sharp lines around his mouth. No dullness in his expression.
Just the face he had before everything collapsed… before soccer was taken from him… before betrayal, regret, suffering, and hopelessness.
Ren lifted a hand and touched his cheek.
Smooth. Firm. Young.
"…This isn't real," he whispered.
He forced his eyes to the corner of the desk where a small digital clock sat.
7:12 AM.
And below the time was the date.
July 2nd, 2017.
The air left his lungs.
"…2017," he repeated under his breath. "That's… eighteen years ago."
This was the year he turned seventeen.
One year before Ryoji.
One year before the stadium.
One year before the night that ended everything.
Ren felt his heartbeat thundering in his ribcage. His body trembled with disbelief and a fear so sharp it nearly stung.
He was back.
Actually, impossibly, terrifyingly BACK.
Ren pressed a hand over his chest, trying to anchor himself.
At thirty-five, he had died.
He had felt the impact of the truck.
He had felt his consciousness slip away as the mother screamed for her child—Aiko's child—
He remembered everything.
"How…? Why…?" He swallowed hard. "Did I reincarnate? Or regress? Or—"
A soft, familiar voice drifted from outside his door.
"Ren, breakfast is ready! You'll be late for school!"
Ren froze.
His throat constricted painfully.
That voice…
That gentle tone…
"…Mom?" he whispered.
His vision blurred instantly.
In 2035, she had been gone for years.
He'd cried at her funeral alone.
He had gone home from the hospital and found her favorite teacup still sitting on the counter.
And he had never heard her voice again.
Until now.
He clenched his fists. Hard.
He wasn't sure if he was trembling from joy, fear, grief, or all of them tangled together.
The door slid open slightly.
"Ren? Did you hear me?"
He sucked in a shaky breath.
"…Y-yeah. I'm coming."
His voice cracked. He swallowed the emotion down as he stepped into the hallway.
And when he reached the kitchen—
Yumi Takahiro -- His mother stood there, alive, warm, humming as she flipped tamagoyaki in the pan.
The sight nearly crushed him.
She turned, smiling when she saw him. "You look tired. Did you stay up late again?"
Ren stared at her. Hard.
The flaw in her apron. Her slightly messy hair.
The way her smile softened at the corners.
He remembered every detail.
"Ren? Is something wrong?"
He shook his head immediately. "No. Nothing. I just… missed your cooking."
His mother laughed gently. "You see me every day, silly."
Not anymore, Ren thought painfully.
But he couldn't say that.
He couldn't tell her this was the last year he would ever see her alive.
He could only sit and eat in silence, savoring every second he had stolen back.
Every bite tasted like childhood.
Every sound felt like a miracle.
For the first time in years… Ren felt like he could breathe.
---
School — Yokohama Higashi High
Ren walked through the school gates, heart pounding in a strange mixture of nostalgia and tension.
Students chatted. Laughed. Ran past him with backpacks bouncing.
They had no idea about the future. No idea about the tragedies waiting for some of them.
He did.
Ren inhaled deeply.
This place… I never thought I'd see it again.
The hallway smelled like old cleaning fluid and sunlight. The floors were still slightly warped near classroom 2-B.
Everything was exactly as he remembered.
When he entered his classroom, conversations halted for a moment.
"Oh—Ren Takahiro's early today?"
"What the hell, did he gain some responsibility overnight?"
Ren forced a small smile.
Then—
"REN!!"
A loud, chaotic voice erupted from behind him.
Ren turned just in time to see Haru Yoshida barreling toward him with all the grace of a runaway train.
"HARU—!"
Ren dodged instinctively.
Haru crashed into a desk instead.
"Bro, what was THAT reaction time?!" Haru groaned.
Ren blinked.
That dodge felt… sharper than usual.
More natural.
As if his instincts had fully returned to the peak of his youth—but polished by the experience of an adult.
Haru jumped up, grinning. "Anyway! I brought those soccer videos you wanted to study. You know, the dribble breakdown stuff."
Ren's chest tightened.
He remembered this.
Haru had been the one person who believed in his genius.
Even after the injury.
Even after Ren fell into depression at twenty-five.
Even after life crushed everything he used to be.
Seeing him again at seventeen—full of hope, energy, and unbroken loyalty—hit Ren harder than he expected.
"…Thanks," Ren said quietly.
Haru blinked. "Yo, you're weirdly serious today."
Ren looked away. "Just… thinking about things."
Haru slung an arm around him. "Well, don't think too hard. We've got practice after school! Coach said today's stamina run is gonna be hell."
Ren's lips curved slightly.
"Bring it on."
"Whoa—confident Ren is BACK? Did you sleep on the right side of the futon or something?"
Ren didn't answer.
Because he didn't trust his voice not to tremble.
---
The First Sign
Class began.
The teacher wrote formulas on the board. Chalk dust drifted through the air.
Ren stared at his hands quietly.
I really am seventeen again…
The room felt brighter.
His senses clearer.
The world sharper.
And then—
The chalk suddenly slipped from the teacher's fingers and fell.
Before Ren even thought—
His hand shot out.
SNAP.
He caught it mid-air.
The entire class froze.
"E-eeh?!"
"Did you see that?"
"Damn, Takahiro!"
Ren blinked down at the chalk in his palm.
He hadn't moved like that since… before the injury.
Not even once in the last eighteen years.
My body responded instantly… like my old prime.
But before he could think deeper—
A faint chime echoed in his mind.
…What?
A thin, translucent line of text flickered at the edge of his vision.
Like a HUD.
Like a system.
[Regression Synchronizing…]
Ren's breath hitched.
Another line appeared.
[Past Soccer Talent: 12% Unlocked]
Then—
[Future Memory Integration: Phase 1 Complete]
And the entire display blinked out of existence.
Ren sat frozen, grip tightening around the chalk.
A system.
A real system.
Not a dream.
Not a hallucination.
Something had come back WITH him.
Destiny Rewrite System…?
Is that what brought me here?
He exhaled slowly, forcing his racing heart to calm.
He remembered the accident.
The blinding light.
The strange feeling pulling at his consciousness.
So this regression wasn't random…
Someone—or something—wanted him to change fate.
---
After School — The Heart-Stopping Moment
The final bell rang.
Students poured out, stretching, laughing, talking about club activities.
Ren walked toward the courtyard, trying to understand the system messages.
12% talent?
Phase 1 integration?
Did that mean more was coming?
Did that mean he could surpass his original genius?
Could he finally—
rewrite everything?
He reached the outdoor walkway, the sunlight warm on his face.
And then—
He saw her.
Ren's entire body locked.
A girl stood under the cherry tree, laughing lightly with two friends, her hair swaying in the summer breeze.
A smile bright and innocent.
A voice he hadn't heard in nearly two decades.
A face he had loved.
A face that later broke him.
Aiko Minase.
Seventeen.
Before jealousy.
Before fame.
Before her betrayal.
Before motherhood.
Before regret.
Beautiful. Unscarred. Unchanged.
Ren's breath collapsed in his chest.
His legs refused to move.
His fingers curled involuntarily.
His heart pounded so violently he thought it might break through his ribs.
She hadn't yet abandoned him.
She hadn't yet betrayed him for Ryoji.
She hadn't yet chosen a future without him.
She was still the girl he loved.
His voice died in his throat.
He could only stare.
Paralyzed.
As if the world had stopped.
Aiko turned slightly, sunlight catching in her eyes
Ren's heart trembled violently.
She was here.
Untouched by the future.
Unbroken.
Aiko…
He stood frozen, the cherry blossoms drifting like silent witnesses; somewhere deep, a promise formed — to change everything before it could break again — no turning back.