Monday Morning.
Tokyo, Nerima Ward.
The sun hit Ryuu's face at 7:00 AM. Usually, he would groan and pull the covers over his head.
Today, he woke up instantly.
He sat up in bed. His body felt like it had been hit by a truck. His calves were tight. His shoulder throbbed with a dull ache. His knees felt stiff.
He looked at the nightstand.
The gold medal case was there. It wasn't a dream.
Ryuu picked it up, flipped it open, stared at the gold disc for three seconds, and then closed it.
"Okay," he whispered to the empty room. "Back to reality."
....
Ryuu lived alone in a small 1LDK apartment near Nekoma High.
It wasn't luxury, but it was clean. A bed, a desk with a gaming PC, a small kitchen, and a living area dominated by a yoga mat and foam roller.
He walked to the kitchen, scratching his stomach. He opened the fridge.
Eggs. Milk. A container of leftover curry.
Since he "woke up" in this world back in April, his life had been a blur of volleyball. But the logistics of his existence were strangely simple, almost like a game mechanic that just... worked.
He had no parents in Japan.
His memories—the ones from this body's original life—told him they were overseas. His father was Japanese, his mother was Brazilian. They ran a business in São Paulo. They sent him a monthly allowance that was surprisingly generous, enough to cover rent, food, and his obsession with expensive athletic gear.
Ryuu checked his phone.
New Message from: "Mom (Brazil)"
"Parabéns, meu filho! We saw the news online! You look so handsome on TV! Dad is crying. Again. Love you! ❤️"
Ryuu stared at the message. He felt a weird pang in his chest. He didn't know these people, not really. But the body remembered them.
He typed back: "Thanks. It was tough. Love you too."
He put the phone down and started making breakfast. Four eggs. Toast. A protein shake.
"National Champion," Ryuu muttered, cracking an egg with one hand. "And I'm still making my own breakfast."
....
Walking to school felt different today.
Usually, Ryuu walked with headphones on, ignoring the world.
Today, the world wouldn't let him ignore it. A group of middle schoolers pointed at him from across the street.
"That's him! The Nekoma Ace!"
"He's huge!"
"I heard he broke a guy's wrist with a spike!" (A lie, but Ryuu didn't correct them).
He arrived at the Nekoma gate.
Lev Haiba was waiting there, vibrating with enough energy to power a small city.
"RYUU-SENPAI!" Lev shouted, sprinting toward him. "DID YOU SEE THE BANNER?! IT'S HUGE!"
Ryuu sighed, adjusting his bag.
"Good morning, Lev. Yes, I saw it." Above the school gate, a massive vertical banner had been hung: CONGRATULATIONS VOLLEYBALL CLUB: INTER-HIGH NATIONAL CHAMPIONS.
"My sister posted a picture of us on Instagram and it got 50,000 likes!" Lev beamed, shoving his phone in Ryuu's face.
"We're famous!"
"You didn't play in the final set," Ryuu pointed out dryly.
Lev wilted like a dying flower. "Don't remind me! Yaku-san kicked me out because I missed a dig!"
"Deserved," Ryuu said, walking past him.
Class 1-3.
School was... school.
Math. History. English.
Ryuu sat at his desk, spinning a pen. The teacher was talking about the Meiji Restoration. Ryuu was thinking about his jump serve.
'I need more consistency. My serve was drifting left in the fifth set. If I want to compete with Ushijima, I need to hit harder.'
"Gojou-kun?"
Ryuu blinked. The teacher was looking at him. The whole class was looking at him.
"Yes, sensei?"
"Congratulations on the win," the teacher smiled. "But please try to pay attention. Winning Nationals doesn't exempt you from finals."
The class laughed. Ryuu rubbed the back of his neck.
"Right. Sorry."
He looked out the window. The sky was bright blue. It was summer. The cicadas were screaming.
In a few days, they would leave for the Shinzen Summer Training Camp.
Karasuno. Fukurodani. Ubugawa. Shinzen.
It was going to be brutal. It was going to be hot. And it was going to be fun.
.....
That evening, the "Team Meeting" wasn't in the club room. It was at a crowded Yakiniku (BBQ) restaurant in downtown Tokyo.
The air was thick with smoke and the smell of sizzling beef.
"MEAT!" Yamamoto screamed, tossing a plate of raw beef onto the grill. "THE CHAMPIONS NEED MEAT!"
The team was crammed into three booths. It was chaos.
In the "Third Year" booth, Kuroo was trying to be responsible.
"Hey! Don't burn the tongue! That's expensive!" Kuroo scolded.
"Kuroo-san, pass the sauce!"
"Who ordered the mega-beer? We're minors!"
"That's Oolong tea, you idiot!"
In the middle booth, Ryuu sat with Kenma, Fukunaga, and Yamamoto. Ryuu was currently holding a pair of tongs like a weapon, guarding his side of the grill.
"Touch my Wagyu," Ryuu warned Yamamoto, "and I will spike you into the pavement."
"But Ryuu!" Yamamoto whined. "We're a team! Sharing is caring!"
"I share the ball," Ryuu flipped his steak perfectly. "I don't share A5 Wagyu."
Kenma was picking at a piece of chicken, looking annoyed by the noise.
"It's too loud," Kenma muttered, shrinking into his hoodie.
"Eat, Kenma," Ryuu dropped a perfectly cooked piece of beef into Kenma's bowl.
"You're too skinny. If you pass out at the Summer Camp, I'm not carrying you."
Kenma stared at the meat, then at Ryuu. He ate it silently. "Thanks."
Suddenly, Coach Nekomata stood up at the head of the table. He raised a glass of beer (he was allowed). The table quieted down. The old coach looked at his boys—faces greasy, laughing, fighting over food.
"I won't make a long speech," Nekomata grinned, his cheeks flushed with happiness.
"You boys worked hard. You climbed the mountain. Tonight, you eat like Kings." He slammed his glass down. "IT'S ON ME! EAT UNTIL YOU PUKE!"
"YEAHHHHHHH!" The team roared. "COACH IS THE BEST!" "ORDER MORE RIBS!"
Ryuu leaned back, chewing his steak. He watched Kuroo laughing with Yaku. He watched Lev dropping meat into the fire and panicking. He smiled. It wasn't his usual arrogant smirk. It was soft. For a guy who lived alone, this noise... it wasn't so bad.
....
Two hours later. Ryuu walked into his apartment. The silence hit him instantly. The smell of BBQ smoke clung to his clothes. The laughter was gone, replaced by the hum of the refrigerator.
He tossed his bag on the floor and collapsed onto his yoga mat. His phone rang.
International number. +55 (Brazil).
He picked up.
"Hello?"
"Ryuu!" A boisterous male voice boomed. It was his father. "We saw the match! The stream was laggy, but we saw the end! THAT CUT SHOT! MAGNIFICENT!"
Ryuu smiled, staring at the ceiling. "Thanks, Dad. It was a gamble."
"Listen, son," his father's voice turned serious. "Your mother and I were talking. You're doing amazing there. But... have you thought about what comes next?"
"Next?"
"After high school. Or even before. Japan is great, but... volleyball is bigger out here. Or in Europe. Or Russia."
Ryuu paused. He knew this. He knew that if he really wanted to be the best in the world, he couldn't stay in the Japanese V-League forever. He needed to go where the giants lived.
"I have thought about it," Ryuu said quietly. "But not yet. I have to finish this year. I have to win Spring High."
"Of course, of course!" his father laughed. "One step at a time. But keep your passport ready, kid. The world is watching you now."
Ryuu hung up. He walked to the window and looked out at the Tokyo city lights. The world. Brazil. Italy. Russia. Poland. Places where 190cm was considered "average." Places where monsters like him were common.
He clenched his fist against the glass. 'I'll go there eventually,' Ryuu thought. 'But first... I have to conquer Japan completely. I have to make sure there is no doubt left.'
He turned back to his room. He picked up a volleyball he kept by his bed. He tossed it in the air and caught it. The texture of the leather felt like home.
"Shinzen Camp," Ryuu whispered to the empty room. "Time to teach some crows how to fly."