The new volleyball transformed Ryu's practice sessions from exercises in creative failure into something approaching actual volleyball. Over the next week, his serves began clearing the fence with increasing consistency, his receives started going in directions that could charitably be called "intentional," and for the first time since leaving the orphanage, he felt like he was making real progress.
Mrs. Watanabe had become an unexpected constant in his routine. Every morning, she would appear on her back porch with a cup of tea and gentle encouragement, watching his practice sessions and offering suggestions that somehow always managed to be helpful without being condescending.
"Remember to follow through," she would call out when his serves fell short. "Imagine you're trying to shake hands with someone on the other side of the net."
"Bend your knees more for receives," she advised when balls bounced off his arms at odd angles. "Think of yourself as a spring that needs to compress before it can launch."
The advice was simple, practical, and surprisingly effective. More importantly, it came from someone who seemed genuinely invested in his improvement rather than someone looking for reasons to criticize his failures.
Pochi had appointed himself as official ball retrieval specialist, a job he took seriously despite his short legs and tendency to get distracted by interesting smells. The dachshund would chase down errant balls with enthusiastic determination, then return them to Ryu with the pride of someone contributing meaningfully to athletic excellence.
"Good boy, Pochi," Ryu would say, accepting the slightly soggy volleyball. "Much better ball handling than mine."
The dog would wag his tail and position himself for the next retrieval, apparently convinced that volleyball was the best game ever invented.
It was on a Thursday morning, exactly four weeks since his escape from the orphanage, that Ryu finally achieved something he'd been working toward since his first day of practice: ten consecutive serves over the net.
"Mrs. Watanabe!" he called out excitedly as the tenth ball cleared the fence and landed within the boundaries of his makeshift court. "Did you see that? Ten in a row!"
"I saw, dear!" Mrs. Watanabe appeared on her porch, clapping enthusiastically. "Absolutely wonderful! Your father would be so proud."
The mention of his father sent a wave of emotion through Ryu's chest - not the crushing grief he'd grown accustomed to, but something warmer and more complex. For the first time since the accident, he could imagine his father watching his volleyball practice with pride rather than disappointment.
"Do you really think so?" he asked, clutching the volleyball against his chest.
"I know so," Mrs. Watanabe said firmly. "Dedication like yours is its own kind of talent."
Ryu was setting up for another round of serves when he noticed someone approaching the park. An older man, perhaps in his fifties, wearing casual clothes and carrying what appeared to be a sketchpad. He walked with the unhurried pace of someone enjoying a morning stroll, but his eyes seemed drawn to Ryu's solo practice session.
"You've got quite the dedicated routine," the man said as he reached the edge of Ryu's makeshift court.
Ryu immediately tensed, his grip tightening on the volleyball. Four weeks of street life had taught him to be wary of adult strangers, especially ones who showed too much interest in unaccompanied children.
"Just practicing," he said carefully, positioning himself so he could run if necessary.
"I can see that," the man said with a gentle smile. "Mind if I watch? I'm something of a volleyball enthusiast myself."
There was something non-threatening about the man's manner - he stayed at a respectful distance, kept his hands visible, and seemed genuinely interested in the sport rather than in Ryu personally. After a moment's hesitation, Ryu nodded.
"Sure, I guess. Fair warning though, I'm not very good yet."
"Everyone starts somewhere," the man said, settling onto a nearby bench and opening his sketchpad. "Improvement is more interesting to watch than perfection anyway."
Encouraged by the lack of judgment in the man's voice, Ryu returned to his serving practice. Having an audience made him slightly more nervous, but Mrs. Watanabe's presence on her porch provided a sense of security that allowed him to focus on his technique.
His first serve sailed cleanly over the fence and landed within bounds.
"Nice follow-through," the man observed, making notes in his sketchpad.
The second serve was equally successful, as was the third and fourth. By the time he'd completed another set of ten consecutive serves, Ryu was feeling cautiously proud of his progress.
"You've been practicing for a while," the man said, closing his sketchpad. "Your form has the kind of consistency that comes from repetition."
"Every day for about a month," Ryu confirmed, retrieving his ball from where Pochi had dutifully collected it. "Well, three weeks of terrible practice and one week of slightly less terrible practice."
"What changed a week ago?"
Ryu glanced toward Mrs. Watanabe's porch, where she was pretending to tend her plants while obviously listening to their conversation.
"I got a better volleyball," he said simply. "Turns out practicing with a half-deflated ball from a dumpster wasn't helping my technique."
The man's eyebrows rose with interest. "You've been practicing with equipment you found in a dumpster?"
"For two weeks, yeah. Before that, I was using a ball that got destroyed at..." Ryu trailed off, realizing he was about to reveal more than he intended.
"At?" the man prompted gently.
Ryu looked at him more carefully. There was something familiar about the man's face, though he couldn't place where he might have seen him before. His clothes were nice but not ostentatious, and his sketchpad suggested artistic interests rather than official business.
"At the place I used to live," Ryu said finally. "I've been on my own for a while now."
"I see." The man's expression grew more concerned. "And you've been practicing volleyball alone this whole time?"
"Yes, sir. My dad was a professional player before he died, and I've always wanted to learn. A friend at the orphanage taught me some basics, but mostly I'm teaching myself."
"From the orphanage?"
Ryu nodded, then realized he'd revealed his situation more explicitly than he'd intended. But something about the man's gentle demeanor made him feel safe enough to continue.
"Sunflower Children's Home. I lived there for five years after my parents died, but I had to leave when things got..." He searched for a diplomatic way to describe systematic bullying and psychological warfare. "Difficult."
"That must have been very hard," the man said with genuine sympathy. "And now you're living independently?"
"I'm managing," Ryu said, straightening his shoulders. "I have my volleyball practice, and Mrs. Watanabe looks out for me. I'm doing fine."
As if summoned by her name, Mrs. Watanabe appeared at the fence separating her property from the park.
"Ryu-kun," she called out, "would you and your friend like some tea? I just made a fresh pot."
The man looked toward Mrs. Watanabe with interest. "That's very kind of you, but I don't want to impose."
"Nonsense," Mrs. Watanabe said firmly. "Anyone who appreciates Ryu-kun's dedication to volleyball is welcome at my table."
Ryu found himself caught between wariness and curiosity. The man seemed genuinely interested in volleyball, and Mrs. Watanabe's implicit approval suggested he wasn't dangerous. After a moment's hesitation, he made his decision.
"Okay," he said. "But just for a little while."
Mrs. Watanabe's kitchen was as warm and welcoming as ever, with the added presence of Pochi, who had immediately appointed himself as the man's official greeter. The dachshund seemed to approve of their visitor, which went a long way toward easing Ryu's remaining concerns.
"I'm Haruichi," the man said as Mrs. Watanabe served tea and what appeared to be homemade cookies. "Thank you for the hospitality."
"I'm Watanabe Sachiko," she replied with a bow. "And this determined young man is Ryu-kun, though I suspect you've already introduced yourselves."
"We have," Haruichi confirmed, accepting his tea with obvious appreciation. "I was just admiring his dedication to volleyball practice."
"Oh, he's wonderfully persistent," Mrs. Watanabe said with obvious pride. "Every morning for weeks now, rain or shine. His improvement has been remarkable."
"You mentioned your father was a professional player," Haruichi said to Ryu. "Do you remember much about his career?"
"He played for NEC Red Rockets," Ryu said, his voice growing stronger as he talked about his father. "Middle blocker. They won the championship the year before he died. He was going to teach me how to play, but..."
"The accident," Haruichi finished gently. "I'm sorry for your loss."
"Thank you." Ryu took a sip of his tea, using the moment to compose himself. "That's why volleyball is so important to me. It's my connection to him."
"And you've been teaching yourself from manga and observation?"
"Mostly from a notebook my friend Kenichi left me when he got a scholarship to JRT Volleyball Academy. But I also read this manga called Haikyuu that really helped me understand the mental aspects of the game."
Haruichi nearly choked on his tea. "Haikyuu? You're familiar with that series?"
"It's my favorite manga," Ryu said eagerly, his entire demeanor brightening. "I have all the volumes that are published so far. The way it shows how passion and hard work can overcome natural limitations really resonates with me."
"What do you like most about the story?"
"Everything!" Ryu's enthusiasm was infectious. "The character development, the realistic volleyball techniques, the way it shows that there are different paths to excellence. And the relationship between Hinata and Kageyama is incredible - how they push each other to be better even when they're complete opposites."
"Which character do you relate to most?" Haruichi asked, his attention now completely focused on Ryu's response.
Ryu paused, considering the question seriously. "This might sound weird, but I really relate to Yukitaka Izumi."
"Hinata's friend who doesn't play volleyball?"
"Yeah. He's always on the outside looking in, you know? He supports Hinata and believes in him, but he never gets to be part of the volleyball world himself. Sometimes I feel like that's me - I love volleyball so much, but I wonder if I'll ever be good enough to really belong."
Haruichi set down his teacup with deliberate care. "What would you do if you were in Izumi's position? If you had the chance to join the volleyball world instead of just observing it?"
"I'd take it in a heartbeat," Ryu said without hesitation. "Even if I wasn't naturally talented, even if I had to work twice as hard as everyone else, I'd find a way to contribute. I'd practice until my hands bled and my legs gave out. I'd study every technique, memorize every strategy, analyze every match until I understood the game well enough to help my team win."
"And if you failed? If you worked that hard and still couldn't keep up?"
"Then I'd keep trying anyway," Ryu said firmly. "Because giving up would mean disappointing everyone who believed in me. And it would mean betraying my father's memory."
A strange expression crossed Haruichi's face - something between surprise and recognition, as if Ryu had answered a question he hadn't realized he was asking.
"That's a very mature perspective," he said quietly.
"I've had a lot of time to think about it," Ryu replied. "When you're alone with your thoughts for weeks, you figure out what really matters to you."
They talked for another hour about volleyball, about dreams and determination, about the difference between natural talent and cultivated skill. Haruichi proved to be remarkably knowledgeable about the sport, offering insights that suggested either extensive playing experience or very dedicated observation.
As the afternoon wore on, Mrs. Watanabe discreetly refreshed their tea and added more cookies to the plate, clearly enjoying having her kitchen filled with animated discussion. Pochi had settled at Ryu's feet, apparently satisfied that their visitor was both trustworthy and properly appreciative of dachshund hospitality.
"I should probably let you get back to your practice," Haruichi said eventually, glancing at his watch. "But before I go, I'd like to ask you something."
"What?" Ryu asked, suddenly nervous that the conversation had been too good to be true.
"If you could have anything in the world - any opportunity, any chance to pursue your volleyball dreams - what would you wish for?"
The question was so unexpected, so earnest, that Ryu found himself answering without thinking.
"I'd wish I could be part of the Haikyuu world," he said softly. "Not to replace anyone or change the story, but just to... belong somewhere. To have teammates who understood why volleyball matters so much, to have coaches who could help me improve, to be part of something bigger than just me and my broken dreams."
"Even if it meant leaving this world behind?"
"What do I have to leave behind?" Ryu's voice cracked slightly. "I'm homeless, friendless, practicing volleyball alone in a park with borrowed equipment. The only good thing in my life right now is Mrs. Watanabe's kindness, and I can't impose on that forever."
"You're not imposing," Mrs. Watanabe interjected firmly. "You're welcome here as long as you need."
"But that's not fair to you," Ryu protested. "You shouldn't have to take care of someone else's abandoned kid."
"You're not abandoned," Haruichi said quietly. "You're just... temporarily displaced."
Something in his tone made Ryu look at him more carefully. There was an intensity in the man's expression that hadn't been there before, as if he'd come to some kind of decision.
"Ryu," Haruichi said seriously, "what if I told you that sometimes the worlds we create in our imagination and the worlds we experience in reality aren't as separate as they might seem?"
"I'd say that sounds like something an adult says when they're trying to be philosophical about impossible things."
Haruichi smiled. "Fair enough. But what if I also told you that artists sometimes have the ability to blur the lines between fiction and reality? That stories can be more than just entertainment?"
"I'd say you're either really deep or really weird."
"Probably both," Haruichi admitted. "But I'd also say that your wish might be more achievable than you think."
Before Ryu could ask what he meant, Haruichi stood and gathered his sketchpad.
"I need to go," he said, bowing politely to Mrs. Watanabe. "Thank you for the wonderful tea and conversation."
"You're welcome anytime," she replied warmly.
Haruichi turned to Ryu, his expression serious but kind. "Keep practicing. Keep believing in your dreams. And don't be surprised if the universe finds a way to give you exactly what you need."
"That's very cryptic advice," Ryu said suspiciously.
"The best advice usually is." Haruichi reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, handing it to Ryu with a small smile. "In case you ever want to discuss volleyball. Or manga. Or the possibility that some wishes are meant to come true."
Ryu accepted the card and read the name printed on it. His eyes widened in shock, his mouth falling open as he looked back up at Haruichi.
"You're..." he started, then stopped, then started again. "You're Furudate-sensei? The creator of Haikyuu?"
"The very same," Haruichi confirmed with a gentle smile.
"But... why... how..." Ryu struggled to form coherent sentences. "What are you doing here? Why were you watching me practice?"
"I was in the neighborhood sketching reference drawings when I saw you practicing alone. Your determination reminded me of certain characters I've written."
"I can't believe I've been talking to you about your own manga," Ryu said, his face turning red with embarrassment. "You must think I'm an idiot."
"On the contrary, I think you understand the heart of the story better than most readers." Furudate's expression grew thoughtful. "Your comments about Izumi were particularly insightful."
"Really?"
"Really. In fact, you've given me some ideas about exploring his character further."
Ryu stared at the business card in his hands, then back at Furudate, then at Mrs. Watanabe, who was watching the exchange with obvious delight.
"Is this really happening?" he asked weakly.
"That depends," Furudate said mysteriously. "Do you still wish you could be part of the Haikyuu world?"
"Of course, but that's impossible."
"Is it?" Furudate's eyes twinkled with something that might have been mischief. "Stories have power, Ryu. They change people, inspire them, give them hope when reality feels too heavy to bear. And sometimes, if the storyteller is willing and the dreamer is deserving, they can do even more than that."
"What do you mean?" Ryu asked, though part of him was afraid to hope for whatever impossible thing Furudate seemed to be suggesting.
"I mean that your wish has been heard," Furudate said softly. "And perhaps it's time for a certain character named Yukitaka Izumi to finally get the volleyball story he deserves."
"I don't understand."
"You will." Furudate began walking away, then turned back with a smile that seemed to contain secrets. "Get some rest tonight, Ryu. Tomorrow might bring some interesting changes to your world."
"Wait!" Ryu called after him. "What kind of changes? What are you talking about?"
But Furudate was already disappearing around the corner, leaving Ryu standing in Mrs. Watanabe's garden with a business card, a borrowed volleyball, and the strangest feeling that his life was about to transform in ways he couldn't possibly imagine.
"Well," Mrs. Watanabe said cheerfully, "that was certainly an interesting afternoon."
"Mrs. Watanabe," Ryu said slowly, "did that really just happen? Did I really just meet the creator of Haikyuu, and did he really just hint that he could somehow make my wish come true?"
"I believe," Mrs. Watanabe said with the wisdom of someone who had lived long enough to see impossible things become possible, "that when you dedicate yourself completely to something you love, the universe has a way of noticing."
"But that's not how reality works."
"Perhaps not," she agreed. "But it's certainly how the best stories work. And who's to say that your story couldn't be one of the best ones?"
That night, Ryu lay on the small futon Mrs. Watanabe had insisted on setting up in her spare room ("Just for tonight, dear, until we figure out something more permanent"), staring at Furudate's business card by the light of his phone.
The creator of Haikyuu had found him practicing volleyball alone in a park. Had watched him serve with borrowed equipment and listened to him talk about dreams that seemed impossibly out of reach. Had asked about wishes and made cryptic comments about the power of stories.
None of it made sense from a logical perspective. But as Ryu drifted toward sleep, clutching his volleyball against his chest and surrounded by the kind of safety he hadn't felt since his parents' death, he found himself believing that maybe - just maybe - tomorrow would bring the kind of miracle that only happened in the stories he loved most.
In his dreams that night, he heard the squeak of sneakers on polished floors, the sharp whistle of referees, and a familiar voice calling out with infectious enthusiasm:
"Izumi! Get ready!"
And for the first time in five years, Ryu fell asleep smiling.
[Memory Integration: Complete - Orphanage Survival Arc Concluded][Final Integration Phase: Initiating...][Identity Consolidation: 94% Complete][Host Preparation Status: Ready for dimensional transition][Timeline Convergence: Synchronized with Haikyuu world entry point]
[Current Status - Final Pre-Integration Assessment:][Host: Ryu Miyamoto (Age 12)][Physical Condition: Malnourished but stable][Mental State: Determined, hopeful, emotionally prepared][Volleyball Skill Level: Novice with basic fundamentals][Support Network: Established (Mrs. Watanabe)][Wish Clarity: Absolute - confirmed desire for dimensional transition]
[Integration Target Confirmed: Yukitaka Izumi][Compatibility Rating: 99.7% - Optimal match][Timeline Insertion Point: Middle school tournament vs. Kitagawa Daiichi][Memory Merger Protocol: Ready for activation]
[Final System Note: All conditions met for granting of wish][Thank you for your dedication to volleyball and determination to never give up][Welcome to your new world, future ace]
____________________________________________________________________________
[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 (100% Completed) - (Processing transmigration events)
- Family Bonding - Enhanced emotional connection, +10% XP gain from family activities (42 hours remaining)