When Kai woke up that morning, it wasn't sunlight, or Kenta's footsteps, or even the faint smell of coffee downstairs that greeted him. It was dread.
A heaviness sat on his chest like a bad dream that had followed him into waking. His eyes opened slowly, and for a second, he thought maybe the world had ended. Not in the explosion-and-fire kind of way—no, that would've been too easy. This was worse. It was the quiet kind of ending, the one where something slipped away bit by bit until there was nothing left.
He stared at the ceiling, blank and gray in the weak morning light. His old self, the boy from his past life felt further away than ever. His name, his face, his family's voices… they were like scribbles on a foggy window, fading no matter how much he pressed his palms against the glass. He could still remember dying, sure. That stupid football, the child in the road, the sharp shock of pain. But the rest? It was slipping into nothingness.
And that wasn't the only reason he felt like the sky was falling. No, today was the day of the dreaded event.
The workplace football match.
Kai rolled onto his side, groaning into his pillow. "Football… even on weekends… why is my life cursed?"
Dragging himself upright, he went to take a shower,wore his clothes, then he shuffled to the mirror hanging on his wall. He stood there, hooded-eyed, and stared at his reflection like it might explain who he was supposed to be.
The boy looking back had slightly messy dark hair, strands falling where they pleased. His skin was a warm brown from his dad's side, but the delicate shape of his nose and the tilt of his eyes whispered of his late Japanese mother. His lips curved naturally into a faint smirk, the kind that made him look like he was planning something sarcastic at all times.
For a long moment, Kai just looked. Really looked.
"This is me," he muttered. "Kai Phillips. Hoodie, jeans, sneakers. Half Nigerian, half Japanese, full-time reincarnation victim."
He touched his cheek like he could somehow feel the outline of his old face under there. Nothing. Just this new one.
"Not that bad, though," he said with forced casualness. "Kinda handsome, if you squint. Definitely protagonist material if this were an anime. Probably the socially awkward, overly sarcastic type who gets punched a lot but ends up saving the day anyway."
He smirked at himself in the mirror. "Yeah, figures."
Pulling his hoodie on, tugging the hem of his jeans straight, and slipping into his sneakers, Kai took a deep breath. He could already hear Kenta downstairs, talking a mile a minute. No doubt excited about the match. Kai's stomach twisted.
By the time he shuffled into the kitchen, Kenta was already on his second slice of toast, cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk. Ade sat at the table with his coffee, scrolling through his phone, work jacket draped on the back of his chair.
"Morning," Kai mumbled, dropping into a chair.
"Morning," Ade said without looking up.
"Morning, zombie," Kenta added cheerfully through a mouthful of bread.
Kai grabbed a slice of toast and jabbed it at him. "I'm not a zombie. Zombies don't suffer. They just shuffle around happily with no worries. I, on the other hand, am being forced to attend… football hell."
Kenta grinned. "Oh right, the match today! Can't wait!"
"Of course you can't wait," Kai groaned, slathering butter on his toast. "You've never known true suffering. Meanwhile, I'm being dragged to a public execution disguised as a family event."
Ade lowered his phone, raising an eyebrow. "It's just a football match, Kai. You sit, you watch, you clap when we score. That's all."
Kai's eyes narrowed. "That's all, he says. That's how it starts. First it's, 'Just watch.' Then it's, 'Why don't you kick the ball a little?' Next thing you know, I'm sweating buckets, tripping over my shoelaces while the crowd chants for my blood."
Kenta burst out laughing. "Crowd chants? It's literally going to be, like what, twenty people, tops."
"Twenty is enough," Kai said grimly. "Twenty witnesses to my downfall."
Ade hid his smile behind his mug. "You exaggerate too much, Kai."
"Exaggerate? Dad, I died because of football. That's not exaggeration. That's fact."
Kenta tilted his head. "You what?"
Kai froze, blinking. He waved his toast dismissively. "Figure of speech. Don't think about it."
Kenta narrowed his eyes suspiciously but let it go, probably too busy stuffing the rest of his toast into his mouth.
Ade finished his coffee and stood. "Enough drama. Eat up, both of you. We'll leave in thirty minutes."
Kai slumped forward, resting his forehead against the table. "Thirty minutes until my doom. Great."
"Cheer up, Kai," Kenta said, smirking. "At least if you pass out from boredom, I'll be there to take embarrassing pictures."
Kai lifted his head slowly, glaring. "You're enjoying this way too much, you little gremlin."
"I'm twelve. It's my job."
Ade chuckled softly, reaching over to ruffle Kenta's hair before grabbing his jacket. "Don't torment your brother too much. He already makes his own life difficult enough."
Kai sat up, pouting. "Excuse me, my life is difficult because the universe keeps shoving football in my face like some kind of cursed running gag."
Kenta grinned wider. "You mean like an anime where the MC swears he hates something, but it secretly becomes his destiny?"
Kai pointed dramatically at him. "Shut your mouth! Don't you dare invoke anime tropes on me!"
But even as he ranted, the heaviness in his chest eased a little. He was still forgetting. Still losing that past life piece by piece. But here, in this kitchen, with his dad sipping coffee and his little brother teasing him, he felt grounded. Rooted.
Maybe, just maybe, being Kai Phillips wasn't such a terrible fate after all.
Still didn't mean he wanted to watch football.