The team made it all the way to the quarterfinals but lost in the semifinals.
Now they sat in the locker room, quietly packing up their things. The air was heavy with disappointment.
Lauran slung her bag over her shoulder and walked to the door, her back to the team.
"Everyone… thanks for the match," she said softly. "I wanted to show the Union how strong you all are, but I guess this is where our journey ends. It was fun being with you all. I'll be waiting for all of you in high school. Let's play again someday. See you."
She opened the door and walked out.
Outside, she nearly bumped into someone.
"Dad? Weren't you on a mission?" she asked, surprised.
"Yeah, I was," Gary replied with a proud smile. "You did a great job leading the team. Come on — let's go home. You must be starving, and your muscles probably hurt like hell by now. Tell your team to tag along if they want. There's a restaurant nearby where lots of teams make memories after their matches. Don't cry, okay? You'll find people like you again — in high school or even college."
He took her bag from her shoulder and patted her head affectionately.
Allura appeared, sighing.
"Not again. One monster wasn't enough — you're raising another one," she muttered.
"Hey, volleyball is fun!" Gary said, grinning. "Once you get hooked on it, you don't want to leave the court. And don't act like you weren't praying alongside me during the semifinal. Our kid kicked the crap out of those powerhouses!"
Allura rolled her eyes and began dragging him away, apologizing to the other parents and players for his loudness while simultaneously scolding him.
Lauran waved goodbye to her team and reminded them to meet in the club room on Monday.
This feels like… when I was Toru… with my parents again, she thought, her heart full but heavy at the same time.
As she stared out the car window on the drive home, she thought to herself:
So the writer didn't lie when they said the male lead would be British if he were human. This world feels more like home now. If I hadn't died, I'd already be thirty. I wonder if Yamada won the league… and the Olympics. How would he react if he found out about my death? Or the notes I hid in the store room… and the projector? I kind of want to see my old friends again.
A small smile tugged at her lips.
It would be nice to tell them I'm fine… and see if they're handling my absence okay.
"Why does my маленькая львица [my little lioness] look like an old lady lost in thought?" Gary teased.
Allura smacked his shoulder.
"Geez. Can't even joke with my daughter?" he muttered.
"Focus on driving," she shot back, giving him a sharp side-eye. "And stop speaking in that human language. As if Euratisian wasn't enough, now you're adding random Earth languages."
"Hey—! That's— I… can't even argue here. Siri, play my playlist," Gary grumbled.
The car's AI assistant opened Spotify and queued up his playlist — a chaotic mix of English, Japanese, Punjabi, and Hindi music.
Singing along to one of the songs, Gary smirked and said:
"This one's for you, mi adore."
"DAD! Stop flirting, for god's sake! It's disgusting and weird!" Lauran groaned from the backseat, hiding her face in her hands. "Mom doesn't even know what those words mean. It's so cringe. You're ruining the song!"
"That's the whole point," Gary said proudly. "Also — you're my daughter. When you find your love, you'll be worse than me. I could give you an example of my cousin Alex…"
"Sulphur, uranium, fluorine—" Lauran started muttering under her breath.
"Complete that sentence. I dare you," Allura cut in, spinning in her seat to point at her. "And when we get home, you're both getting it. Young lady — you're grounded. Watch your mouth next time. No arguments, or I'll extend it."
She turned her glare to Gary.
"And you—"
"I know, I know," Gary interrupted sheepishly. Then he gave Lauran a crooked grin. "Good one, Lean. Just… don't say it in front of adults next time. We made a pact, remember? And this is your punishment for breaking it."
Lauran just scowled silently, though not at her parents — her anger was directed at the author who had written this world and made Gary's supposedly "happy ending" so tragic. The more she thought about it, the more she missed her own parents.
She hid her feelings — or at least she thought she did — and they all went to dinner at the restaurant before having a lively game night at home.
Later that night, she sat at her desk, writing in her diary before bed.
When she finally fell asleep, she dreamed — but this time it was from a third-person perspective.
She heard a voice in a crisp British accent. It sounded like a child's.
She spun around, but everything went black except for a faint light behind her.
"You had a good life," the child's voice said. "At least someone cared about you."
"You're wrong," Toru answered firmly, her old accent slipping back into place. "There are people who care about ya."
She froze. She was speaking like Toru Itsuki again. And when she looked down, she realized—
—she was Toru Itsuki again.