The world came into focus like a broken television slowly tuning to the right frequency. One moment there was nothing, and the next - the squeak of sneakers against polished wood, the echo of voices bouncing off gymnasium walls, and the unmistakable thwack of a volleyball being hit.
"Izumi! Get ready!"
The voice cut through his confusion like a knife. Ryu - no, apparently Izumi now - blinked hard, trying to make sense of his surroundings. The gymnasium was smaller than he'd expected, with faded motivational banners hanging from the rafters and the kind of harsh fluorescent lighting that made everyone look slightly sickly.
But none of that mattered because standing three feet away from him, with that unmistakable shock of orange hair and eyes burning with fierce determination, was Hinata Shoyo.
Holy crap.
"Focus, Izumi!" Hinata called out, his voice carrying that particular blend of excitement and desperation that Ryu remembered from the manga. "This is our chance!"
Ryu looked down at his hands - except they weren't his hands. These were smaller, with different calluses in different places, sporting a familiar tan that definitely wasn't his pale orphanage complexion. His legs felt wrong too, like he was wearing someone else's shoes that were just slightly the wrong size.
What the hell is happening?
"Yukigaoka, serving!" The referee's voice boomed across the court.
Across the net, a tall boy with black hair and the kind of scowl that could curdle milk was getting into position. Kageyama Tobio. In the flesh. Looking exactly like he did in the manga, complete with that "I'm-better-than-everyone-and-I-know-it" expression.
"This is really happening," Ryu whispered to himself, his voice coming out in a register that wasn't quite right. "This is actually freaking happening."
The serve came over - a decent floater that Hinata managed to dig up with his usual wild enthusiasm. The ball popped high into the air, wobbling slightly as it reached its peak.
"Izumi!" Hinata yelled, his eyes lighting up with the kind of hope that made Ryu's chest tighten. "It's yours!"
Time seemed to slow as the volleyball hung in the air above him. Every instinct from his previous life kicked in - the hours of watching his father play, the countless manga panels he'd memorized, the dreams of being the ace spiker who could turn any game around.
This is it. This is my moment.
Ryu took two quick steps, planted his left foot, and launched himself into the air with everything he had. For one glorious moment, he felt weightless, powerful, like he could spike through concrete.
His hand reached out, ready to deliver a devastating attack that would show everyone - Kageyama, the Kitagawa Daiichi players, maybe even himself - that he belonged on this court.
The ball hit him square in the face with a sound like a wet fish slapping concrete.
SMACK.
The impact sent him sprawling backward, arms windmilling as he crashed to the floor in a tangle of limbs. Stars exploded across his vision, and he could taste blood where his teeth had caught his lip. The volleyball bounced off his forehead with an almost musical boing before rolling sadly across the court.
The gymnasium fell silent except for the ball's diminishing bounces.
"Ouch," someone in the stands said helpfully.
"Izumi!" Hinata scrambled over, his face a mask of concern. "Are you okay? That sounded really bad!"
Lying on his back, staring up at the harsh lights, Ryu felt his mind begin to drift. The pain in his face was sharp and immediate, but somehow it triggered something deeper - memories that weren't from this body, weren't from this life.
"Watch closely, Ryu. This is how you control the ball."
His father stood on their apartment building's rooftop, the city skyline stretching out behind him like a postcard. At six years old, Ryu thought his dad was the coolest person in the world - tall and strong, with hands that could make a volleyball do impossible things.
"Dad, can I try the super jump serve?" Ryu asked, bouncing on his toes with excitement.
"Not yet, kiddo. Let's master the basics first." His father's laugh was warm, the kind of sound that made everything feel safe. "Besides, your mom will kill me if I let you hurt yourself before dinner."
They practiced until the sun started to set, just simple passes back and forth. Nothing fancy, nothing dramatic - just a father teaching his son the sport he loved. When they finally headed inside, his mother was waiting with that exasperated smile she got when they lost track of time.
"You two and your volleyball," she said, but she was laughing. "Wash up. Dinner's ready."
That was the last time they practiced together.
The accident happened three days later. A drunk driver running a red light, his parents' car in the wrong place at the wrong time. One moment Ryu had a family, a home, a future full of volleyball lessons and weekend matches. The next moment he had nothing but a social worker's sympathetic smile and a suitcase full of clothes that smelled like disinfectant.
The orphanage came after that. Sunflower Children's Home, with its institutional beige walls and the persistent smell of industrial cleaner.
But volleyball... volleyball was the ghost of everything he'd lost.
"Hey! Earth to Izumi!"
Ryu blinked, the gymnasium swimming back into focus. Hinata was still kneeling beside him, but now they were surrounded by the rest of their team - a collection of boys who looked just as amateur as he felt.
"Can you sit up?" their captain asked - Ryu thought his name might be Sekimukai. "That was quite a hit."
"I'm fine," Ryu managed, accepting their help to get vertical again. His nose throbbed, and he could feel it starting to swell. "Just... lost my timing."
"Lost your timing?" Hinata looked confused. "Izumi, you usually don't even - " He stopped himself, glancing around at their teammates.
Right. The original Izumi was a basketball player doing this as a favor.
"Kitagawa Daiichi, serving!" the referee announced, apparently unconcerned with Ryu's existential crisis.
The match resumed around them, and it was exactly as brutal as Ryu remembered from the manga. Kageyama's serves were like missiles, his sets were surgical in their precision, and his general attitude suggested he'd rather be playing with a team of professional athletes instead of middle schoolers.
Yukigaoka never stood a chance.
Ryu found himself relegated to the back row after his spectacular face-plant, watching helplessly as Kitagawa Daiichi dismantled them point by point. Hinata threw himself at every ball with reckless abandon, but even his superhuman enthusiasm couldn't overcome the skill gap.
25-5. 25-8. Game over.
As they lined up to bow and thank each other for the match, Ryu caught Kageyama staring at Hinata with that mixture of fascination and irritation that would define their relationship for years to come.
"You're short," Kageyama said bluntly.
And there it was - the moment that would change everything. Ryu watched from the sidelines as Hinata's face went through several colors, settling on an alarming shade of red.
"I may be short, but I can jump!" Hinata shot back, his voice cracking slightly.
"Being tall is an advantage in volleyball. That's just common sense."
"I'll become strong enough that I won't need to be tall!"
"You? Become strong?" Kageyama's laugh was cold. "Don't make me laugh. You'll never be anything more than a mediocre player at best."
The argument escalated from there, with Hinata getting more and more worked up while Kageyama remained infuriatingly calm. Ryu felt his stomach clench as the scene played out exactly like he remembered - the crushing dismissal, Hinata's desperate declaration that he'd beat Kageyama someday, the way the Kitagawa Daiichi players just walked away like they'd stepped on an ant.
This is real. This is actually happening. I'm in the Haikyuu world.
"That was rough," Sekimukai said as they gathered in a circle after Kitagawa Daiichi left. "But you all did your best."
"I'm sorry," Hinata said quietly, staring at his hands. "If I were taller, if I were better..."
"Hey." Ryu surprised himself by speaking up. "You did great out there. You never gave up, not once."
Hinata looked up, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "But we lost. Badly."
"So what?" Ryu felt something stirring in his chest - not quite confidence, but something close to it. "We'll win the next one."
The silence that followed was deafening.
"The... next one?" Hinata blinked rapidly. "But Izumi, didn't you say this would be your first and only time playing volleyball? As a favor to me?"
Oh. Right. The original Izumi was supposed to go back to basketball after this.
Ryu felt every eye on the team turn toward him. His face was still throbbing from the ball impact, his body felt like it belonged to someone else, and he was apparently trapped in a fictional world where volleyball was everything and he sucked at it.
And yet...
"Well," he said, surprising himself with how steady his voice sounded, "I changed my mind. I like volleyball. Let's play more matches."
Hinata's reaction was immediate and explosive. "REALLY?!" He jumped so high that Ryu was genuinely concerned he might hit the ceiling. "You want to keep playing?! Even after today?!"
"Yeah," Ryu said, and realized he meant it. "Yeah, I do."
"This is so awesome!" Hinata was practically vibrating with excitement now. "We can practice together! I can teach you my jumping techniques! We can - "
"Slow down there, sunshine," one of their teammates laughed. "It's still just the 2 of you, we are here just to help you out this one time"
As Hinata continued to bounce around like a caffeinated rubber ball, Ryu felt a wave of nausea wash over him. Whether it was from the ball to the face or the dawning realization of what he'd just committed himself to, he couldn't tell.
He was in a world where volleyball was everything - the defining passion that drove characters to incredible heights, that created unbreakable bonds, that meant more than grades or family or anything else.
And he sucked at it.
Spectacularly.
What have I gotten myself into?
But looking at Hinata's beaming face, at the hope that had returned to his teammates' expressions, Ryu felt something he hadn't experienced since before the accident - a sense of purpose.
He might suck at volleyball now, but this was the Haikyuu world. In this world, passion and hard work could overcome any obstacle. In this world, a short middle blocker could face down giants and win.
In this world, maybe even a traumatized orphan who'd just been body-swapped into a manga could learn to fly.
Guess there's only one way to find out.