The sun was already setting by the time Ryu dragged himself back from practice with Hinata, his legs feeling like overcooked noodles and his shoulder screaming from two volleyball sessions in one day. The afternoon practice had been... educational. Hinata's enthusiasm for his "revolutionary receive accuracy drill" had turned out to be an elaborate exercise in creative failure, with both of them spending more time chasing errant balls than actually improving their technique.
"Same time tomorrow?" Hinata had called out as they parted ways, somehow still radiating energy despite being covered in grass stains and sweat.
"If I can still move tomorrow," Ryu had replied, which wasn't entirely a joke.
Now, climbing the stairs to his room with the careful deliberation of someone whose muscles had declared war on coordination, he felt the weight of everything that had happened today. The morning practice with his family, the emotional revelation about his identity, the system's promise of final integration - it was almost too much to process.
[Daily Quest Complete: Focused Volleyball Practice]
[Time Logged: 127 minutes total] [Bonus XP: +5 (Exceeded minimum requirement)]
[Status: Well-deserved exhaustion achieved]
He collapsed onto his bed in the Yukitaka family home, still wearing his grass-stained practice clothes, and felt the familiar weight of mental and physical exhaustion settling into his bones. The system notification about final integration pulsed gently at the edge of his vision, waiting for sleep to begin the process that would complete his identity consolidation.
As consciousness faded, the familiar blue glow of the system interface merged with the darkness behind his eyelids, and suddenly he was no longer thirteen-year-old Izumi lying in a comfortable bedroom. He was seven-year-old Ryu, waking up in Room 7 of Sunflower Children's Home to find something unexpected on his pillow.
[Memory Integration: Day of Discovery - Age 7]
Ryu's eyes opened to the gray pre-dawn light filtering through the orphanage windows. Something was different about the room - a stillness that felt wrong, an absence that made his chest tighten before he was fully awake.
Kenichi's bed was empty. Not just unoccupied, but stripped bare, the mattress naked and the space where his belongings had been completely vacant.
Panic shot through Ryu's small chest as he sat up quickly, his hand instinctively reaching for his father's volleyball. It was still there beside him, but the comfort it usually provided was overshadowed by the growing realization that he was truly alone now.
That's when he noticed the envelope on his pillow.
With trembling fingers, he opened it and pulled out a single sheet of paper covered in Kenichi's familiar handwriting.
Ryu,
By the time you read this, I'll already be on the train to JRT Volleyball Academy. I wanted to leave you something more than just volleyball notes, so here's the stuff I couldn't say to your face without feeling like an idiot.
You're going to be okay. I know it doesn't feel like it right now, and I know the next few months are going to be hard without someone watching your back. But you've got something most kids here don't have - you know what you're fighting for. That volleyball isn't just a ball to you, it's everything your dad represented. That's going to make you stronger than you realize.
Don't let Takeshi and Hiroto take that away from you. They're not evil kids, just broken ones, but broken doesn't excuse cruel. If they come after you or your dad's volleyball, remember what I taught you about standing your ground. Sometimes the best defense is making it clear that victory will cost more than it's worth.
I'm proud of you, kid. Proud of how hard you've worked, how much you've improved, how you've refused to let this place break your spirit. Your dad would be proud too.
Keep practicing. Find your team. Show the world what you're made of.
Your friend always,Kenichi
P.S. - Check under your mattress. I left you something for emergencies.
Ryu's vision blurred as he finished reading, the weight of Kenichi's words settling into his chest like armor. He quickly checked under his mattress and found a small wooden whistle wrapped in cloth, along with another note: "For when you need help and need it loud. - K"
He was still holding the letter when footsteps echoed in the hallway, approaching with the deliberate cadence of predators who knew their prey was finally cornered.
"Well, well," Takeshi's voice carried easily through the thin door. "Looks like big brother finally abandoned the celebrity kid."
The door opened without ceremony, and Takeshi stepped in with Hiroto close behind, both wearing expressions of barely contained anticipation.
"Gone without even saying goodbye," Hiroto added with mock sympathy. "How does it feel to be left behind?"
Ryu carefully folded the letter and clutched it along with his volleyball, trying to project the confidence Kenichi had always shown. "He said he'd write."
"Sure he will," Takeshi laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Right up until he makes new friends and forgets the sad little orphan he used to protect."
"That's not - "
"Face it, Ryu," Hiroto interrupted, settling onto Kenichi's stripped bed like he owned it. "You're alone now. No more special treatment, no more volleyball lessons, no more someone to run to when things get difficult."
Takeshi picked up a small item from Kenichi's abandoned nightstand - a paperback manga that had been left behind. Without ceremony, he tore it in half and dropped the pieces on the floor.
"Oops," he said with false innocence. "Accidents happen when there's no one around to prevent them."
The casual destruction was clearly a warning, a demonstration of how easily precious things could be damaged when no one was watching. Ryu felt his grip tighten on both the letter and his volleyball.
"We've been thinking," Hiroto continued, "about how unfair it's been around here. Some kids get special attention, special possessions, special protection. Other kids get nothing."
"Time to even things out," Takeshi agreed. "Starting with sharing that volleyball."
"No." The word came out stronger than Ryu felt, but he held his ground.
"No?" Takeshi's eyebrows shot up in mock surprise. "Did the celebrity kid just tell us no?"
"It's mine. It was my father's."
"Your father's dead," Hiroto said bluntly. "Dead people don't get to keep claiming property."
The words made his chest constrict, but Ryu forced himself to remember Kenichi's advice about standing his ground. "It's still mine."
"We'll see about that," Takeshi said with a cold smile. "We'll see how long you can protect it when accidents start happening. When your belongings go missing. When you find yourself eating alone because nobody wants to sit with the selfish kid who hoards treasures while others have nothing."
They left without another word, but the threat lingered in the air like smoke. Ryu sat alone in the increasingly hostile room and felt the weight of his new reality settling around him like a prison.
The war for his father's volleyball had officially begun.
[Memory Integration: Survival Montage - Ages 7-12]
Age 7, One Week After Kenichi's Departure:
Ryu woke to find his school uniform soaked with water. Takeshi and Hiroto claimed the pipes had burst during the night, but the deliberate placement of the "leak" directly over his belongings told a different story. He wore damp clothes to class and endured the whispered comments about the smelly orphan kid.
Age 8, Winter:
His homework disappeared three times in one month. Each time, Takeshi and Hiroto expressed sympathetic concern about his "irresponsibility" to Mrs. Hayashi, who began to view Ryu as careless and disorganized. The volleyball never left his side, clutched protectively even during sleep.
Age 8, Spring:
They convinced other children that Ryu thought he was better than them because of his "famous dad." Soon, mealtimes became exercises in isolation as kids avoided sitting near the "stuck-up celebrity kid." Ryu learned to eat quickly and quietly, always aware of potential threats.
Age 9, Summer:
The volleyball went missing for three terrifying days. Ryu found it eventually - hidden in the basement storage room, covered in mud and scratched from deliberate mistreatment. He spent hours cleaning it with trembling hands, checking for permanent damage. After that, he never let it out of his sight, even taking it to the bathroom.
Age 9, Fall:
Takeshi "accidentally" knocked Ryu down the stairs, resulting in a sprained wrist and a story about clumsiness that the adults believed without question. Ryu learned to navigate the building like a spy, always aware of ambush points and escape routes.
Age 10, Winter:
His few remaining possessions - clothes, school supplies, Kenichi's volleyball notebook - began disappearing systematically. Each loss was explained away as misplacement or carelessness. Ryu started hiding things in increasingly creative locations, turning survival into a game of constant vigilance.
Age 10, Spring:
They convinced Mrs. Hayashi that Ryu was "developing antisocial tendencies" by refusing to participate in group activities. What they called antisocial, Ryu called self-preservation. Group activities meant opportunities for "accidents" that left him bruised and his volleyball threatened.
Age 11, Summer:
A new boy arrived at the orphanage - smaller, younger, more vulnerable than Ryu had ever been. Takeshi and Hiroto immediately targeted him, but Ryu made a decision that surprised everyone, including himself. He taught the boy how to hide, how to avoid attention, how to survive. For the first time since Kenichi's departure, he felt useful instead of just hunted.
Age 11, Fall:
His protective instincts toward newer kids earned him a reputation as a troublemaker who "corrupted" younger residents with "paranoid behavior." In reality, he was teaching them the skills that had kept him alive for four years. The volleyball remained his constant companion, a talisman of hope in an increasingly hopeless situation.
Age 12, Winter:
Takeshi and Hiroto, now approaching their own departure from the orphanage as they aged out of the system, launched one final campaign to break Ryu's spirit. They stole his clothes, destroyed his schoolwork, and turned every interaction into psychological warfare. But the volleyball remained safe, protected by five years of learned paranoia and desperate determination.
Age 12, Spring:
The bullying reached its peak as his tormentors realized their time was running out. They enlisted other kids, created elaborate schemes, and turned basic survival into a complex chess game where Ryu was always playing defense. But he endured, protected what mattered most, and never stopped practicing volleyball in secret, using Kenichi's notebook like a bible of hope.
Through it all, the volleyball survived. Scratched, worn, bearing the scars of countless battles, but intact. Like Ryu himself, it had been tested by cruelty and emerged battered but unbroken.
[Memory Integration: Age 12, The Final Morning]
Ryu's eyes opened to the familiar pre-dawn darkness of Room 7, now occupied by a new generation of residents who'd learned to give him wary respect. At twelve years old, he'd survived five years of systematic harassment through pure stubborn determination and careful paranoia.
His hand automatically reached for his father's volleyball - the ritual check that had started every morning since Kenichi's departure.
His fingers found nothing but empty space.
The volleyball was gone.
Ryu bolted upright, his heart hammering as he searched frantically through his blankets, under his pillow, around his bed. Nothing. The volleyball that had never left his side for five years, that had survived countless attempts at theft and destruction, had finally been taken.
"Looking for something?"
Takeshi's voice came from the doorway, older now, deeper, but carrying the same cruel satisfaction it had possessed five years ago. He stood there with Hiroto beside him, both of them eighteen and weeks away from aging out of the system.
"Where is it?" Ryu's voice was steady despite the panic clawing at his chest.
"Where's what?" Hiroto asked with false innocence.
"You know what."
"Oh, you mean the old leather ball?" Takeshi's smile was cold with triumph. "The one you've been clutching like a security blanket for five years? The precious memento of your dead daddy?"
"Give it back."
"Can't give back what we don't have," Hiroto said with a shrug. "Things go missing in a place like this. Valuable things especially. You should know that by now."
Ryu was already moving, checking their belongings, searching under beds, driven by a desperation that five years of practiced caution couldn't contain. The volleyball was everything - his connection to his father, his motivation to keep practicing, his symbol of hope in a hopeless place.
"It's not here," Takeshi said helpfully. "We're not stupid enough to keep stolen property in our own room."
"What do you want?" Ryu demanded, turning to face them with eyes blazing with fury.
"Nothing," Hiroto said with satisfaction. "We already got what we wanted. Five years too late, but better late than never."
"You see," Takeshi continued, clearly enjoying the moment, "we're leaving this place in two weeks. Going out into the real world, starting our lives over. But we couldn't go without finishing what we started."
"Teaching the celebrity kid that he's not special," Hiroto added. "That his precious daddy's memory doesn't make him better than anyone else."
"That volleyball is gone, Ryu," Takeshi said with finality. "Hidden somewhere you'll never find it. And in two weeks, when we're gone, the knowledge of where it is dies with us."
The words crashed through his carefully built walls, each one carefully chosen to inflict maximum emotional damage. Five years of careful survival, of protecting what mattered most, and it had all been for nothing.
"Unless..." Hiroto said thoughtfully.
"Unless what?" Ryu asked desperately.
"Unless you admit it," Takeshi said. "Admit that your dad wasn't special. That you're not special. That you're just another unwanted kid in a place full of unwanted kids."
"Say it loud enough for the whole room to hear," Hiroto added. "Tell everyone that your famous volleyball player daddy was just another dead loser who abandoned his kid."
The demand hung in the air like poison. Five years of torment had led to this moment - the choice between his pride and his most precious possession.
Ryu looked around the room at the other children, some awake now and watching the confrontation with varying degrees of interest and sympathy. These kids who'd learned to respect his determination, who'd seen him endure years of systematic cruelty without breaking.
He thought about Kenichi's letter, about his father's love, about everything the volleyball represented.
And then he made his choice.
"No."
____________________________________________________________________________
[Current Status:]
[Host: Yukitaka Izumi (Soul: Ryu Miyamoto)]
[Level: 1 (29/100 XP)]
[Skill Points Available: 1]
—
[Stats:]
- Serving: 2/100
- Receiving: 1/100
- Setting: 3/100
- Spiking: 0/100
- Blocking: 0/100
- Stamina: 15/100
- Jump Height: 28/100
- Game Sense: 15/100
—
[Abilities:]
- Empathic Connection (Level 1) - Active
- Critical Strike (Level 1) - Temporarily Unlocked (Remaining Uses: x2)
—
[Active Quests:]
- Daily: Complete 1 hour of focused volleyball practice (COMPLETE - Reward pending)
- Tutorial: Successfully receive 10 serves in a row (Progress: 0/10 | No deadline)
- Main: Find Your Team (Deadline: 29 days)
—
[Status Effects:]
- Soul Integration (EVOLVED | 70% Completed) - (Processing transmigration events)
- Family Bonding - Enhanced emotional connection, +10% XP gain from family activities (46 hours remaining)