The school courtyard buzzed with the usual after-bell chaos—voices scattering in every direction, bags slinging over shoulders, laughter bouncing off the concrete.
But for Ren Takahiro, the entire world shrank into something slow and painfully quiet.
Because standing beneath the late-afternoon cherry tree…
…was Aiko Minase.
Her uniform skirt moved faintly with the warm spring wind. Pink petals drifted around her hair. And when her eyes found Ren's, she smiled—soft, almost nostalgic.
The breath caught in Ren's throat.
He hadn't expected this. Not today. Not so soon after being thrown back into his seventeen-year-old body. He wasn't ready for her, not with memories of heartbreak and loss still cluttering his chest like broken glass.
His steps slowed, then stopped completely.
Aiko began walking toward him, each step measured, gentle—
"REEEEEEN!"
A voice cut the moment in half like a crash of cymbals.
Haru Yoshida shot across the courtyard, sprinting full-speed and waving both arms like he was trying to signal a rescue helicopter.
"Practice! Coach said stamina run starts early! We gotta—"
Then he saw Aiko.
His face froze.
"…oh."
The silence that followed was excruciating.
Haru leaned toward Ren, whispering like someone negotiating with a bomb.
"She's right there, man! Say something! Blink! Breathe! Anything!"
Aiko let out a small laugh at Haru's panic, then focused her full attention back on Ren.
She stepped closer, voice dropping into a warm, almost hesitant tone.
"Ren… after practice, are you free? Maybe we could walk home together?"
Ren's heart jolted.
It was innocent. Sweet. Completely normal for a seventeen-year-old girl asking someone she liked.
But Ren wasn't normal anymore. He wasn't seventeen. He was a man with thirty-five years of pain and past buried inside, staring at a girl who once stayed through his victories—and abandoned him the moment his world collapsed.
He swallowed.
The old Ren might've said yes in a heartbeat.
The new Ren… couldn't.
"I'm sorry," he said, steady but quiet. "I can't. I promised to pick up my sister from the library."
It wasn't even a lie—his sister really was there and waiting for him today. But more than that… it was the only excuse he could muster without letting every conflicted emotion spill out.
Aiko blinked in surprise, then smiled gently.
"That's very responsible of you. Maybe another time."
She stepped back, waved softly, and turned to join a pair of friends calling her name.
Haru stared at Ren like he'd just watched someone turn down a confession from a goddess.
"Ren… what… WHY… what did you just do!?"
Ren kept his eyes on the path Aiko had walked, then lowered his gaze.
"I'm not the same Ren," he murmured.
Haru squinted. "Okay… that's cryptic and terrifying. We're unpacking that later."
He grabbed Ren's sleeve. "Right now, we're dead if we're late. Coach was already mad today."
They hurried toward the field together.
The Field — Yokohama Higashi High
The sun hung low, glowing orange across the pitch. Players were scattered around: some stretching, some juggling, some already groaning in dread.
Coach Sakamoto stood front and center, stocky and immovable like a granite boulder, whistle dangling between his fingers.
The moment he saw Ren and Haru, his face scrunched.
"Takahiro! Yoshida! You're late!"
Haru bowed quickly. "Sorry, Coach! Emotional chaos! Human crisis! Relationship stuff! I can explain—"
"No explaining! Only running!" Coach barked. "ON THE LINE!"
Haru choked on a groan. Ren just exhaled and joined the others at the starting line.
Coach raised the whistle.
"Four kilometers today! Steady pace! Move!"
The blast cut through the air, and the team launched forward.
Training Begins
Running Laps — 2 km
Ren slipped into a rhythm easily.
The first hundred meters felt foreign. Then… smooth. His muscles weren't protesting nearly as much as he expected. His lungs expanded comfortably, drawing air in controlled intervals.
This body was seventeen—but the instincts of thirty-five years, the memory of training at near-pro levels, sat etched into every movement.
The ground came to him naturally.
His pacing was steady.
His breathing consistent.
Next to him, Haru was already suffering.
"Haaah—Ren—why—are you—so calm—? Did you swap lungs with a horse!?"
Ren didn't answer. Not because he didn't want to—but because talking would break the fragile composure he was maintaining. Part of him still felt uncomfortable with how easily he was adapting again. Another part was silently grateful.
This body… it remembers. Even after everything, it remembers what it means to move like an athlete.
He continued the run without falling behind once.
Shuttle Runs
Coach pointed at the cones lined across the grass.
"Ten shuttle runs! Touch the lines—touch them, or do it again!"
The team groaned. Someone cursed under their breath.
Haru nearly collapsed. "Coach, please… my body still has trauma from last time…"
"Run," Coach said flatly.
The whistle shrieked.
Ren burst forward, cut directions sharply, dug his feet into the turf, and accelerated back.
His legs burned. His lungs tightened. Sweat dripped down his temple.
But none of it felt unmanageable.
He was slower than he remembered being at peak form. But faster than a normal high-schooler at the start of the year.
Haru stumbled behind him, tripping on the last cone.
"Ren—slow down—my will to live is declining—"
Ren didn't slow down.
Not because he didn't care—but because he couldn't. Not anymore.
This second chance demanded more from him.
A Subtle Chime
—click—
A faint sound echoed inside Ren's consciousness. A translucent window—gentle, thin as mist—appeared before him.
DAILY MISSIONS — Progress
•Ball Touches: 0 / 100
• Ball Kicks: 0 / 100
• Running: 3 / 10 km
• Push-Ups: 0 / 100
• Dribbling Weaves: 0 / 100
Reward: +1 stat point
Ren stared quietly.
Two missions can be done… but plenty left.
He dismissed the window with a blink.
Ball Control Drills
Coach tossed a bag of cones on the ground.
"Three lanes! Dribbling weaves! CLEAN footwork!"
Ren stepped into the drill and began weaving through the cones.
Tap-tap-tap.
Right foot, left foot, shift weight, turn hips, slide the ball through—
Every movement came back like a forgotten melody.
He breathed out slowly.
He could feel what was missing—speed, explosiveness, stamina.
But the fundamentals?
They were still there.
Buried beneath years of office-life and bitterness, but not gone.
In the next lane, Haru tripped on the first cone.
"Who put this cone in my path!? Ren! It attacked me!"
Ren didn't comment, just kept weaving.
He finished his line with almost perfect precision.
Coach's whistle blew. "Good touches, Takahiro! This is how you handle the ball! Yoshida—stop fighting the cones!"
Haru glared at the cone as if it had wronged him in a past life.
Passing Triangles
Short passes.
Quick taps.
One-touch routines.
Ren flowed into the triangle with smooth control. His first touch had a natural dampening softness. The ball came to him, and he redirected it effortlessly.
The teammates around him started noticing.
"Whoa, Ren's clean today."
"Has he been practicing secretly?"
"He wasn't this sharp last week, right?"
Ren kept his expression neutral, saying nothing.
He didn't want attention—not yet.
Not until his body caught up.
Cooldown & End of Practice
By the time Coach blew his final whistle, the sun had dipped into warm orange streaks. The players dropped onto the field, panting and drained.
Ren lowered himself to the grass and let out a long, controlled breath.
This life… felt more real than he expected.
Status Window
A second window opened.
Clean. Minimal. No glow.
———————————————
STATUS WINDOW
———————————————
Name: Ren Takahiro
Age: 17
Talent Sync: 12%
LEVEL: 1
Unassigned Stat Points: 0
— PHYSICAL STATS —
Speed - 11
Stamina - 9
Strength - 8
Flexibility - 10
— TECHNICAL STATS —
Ball Control - 12
Dribbling - 11
Passing - 10
Shooting - 9
— MENTAL STATS —
Intelligent - 12
Composure - 10
———————————————
Skill Tree: Locked
Special Traits: Locked
———————————————
Ren inhaled deeply, closing the window.
A long path ahead.
But it was a path he knew how to walk.
End of Training
Haru flopped down next to him, hair drenched with sweat.
"Tomorrow," Haru panted, "passing drills… don't slack…"
Ren nodded. "I won't."
Haru blinked at him. "Whoa. You sound serious. Like a Zombiee"
Ren offered the faintest smile.
He stood, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
His sister was waiting at the library.
And his missions weren't done.
He glanced toward the field gate—
Aiko was there, walking away with her friends, talking softly, unaware of his gaze.
Ren watched her for a heartbeat.
Then turned away.
I have things to do.
The Real Work Begins
As Ren walked off the field, the mission progress lingered in his mind:
DAILY MISSIONS — Progress
•Ball Touches: 100 / 100
• Ball Kicks: 0 / 100
• Running: 5 / 10 km
• Push-Ups: 0 / 100
• Dribbling Weaves: 100 / 100
Reward: +1 stat point
Two missions completed
Five more kilometers.
One hundred kicks.
One hundred push-ups.
"OHH MY GODDUU!!"
And he has to meet his sister at the library before she go home herself.
Ren tightened his grip on his bag.
Today isn't over yet.
He stepped into the cooling evening air—
Ready to finish the missions
and meet his sister with a clear heart.
Tomorrow would be a new beginning…
but tonight, discipline come first.