Reborn to Spike: My Second Life as a Volleyball Ace

Beep-beep-beep.

The shrill alarm pierced the stillness of dawn.

Jordan's eyes flew open.

For a heartbeat, he didn't move. He simply lay there, breathing. The faint light creeping through the blinds painted soft stripes across his ceiling. His ears tuned to the world around him the quiet rustle of leaves outside, the distant sound of a dog barking, the subtle creak of wood in a lived-in home.

His body?

It didn't ache.

No tight joints. No sore back. No splitting headache from bottom-shelf whiskey.

Just air in his lungs. Energy in his limbs.

Life.

And today… he was going to play volleyball again.

But first

Family.

He stepped out of his room, barefoot on cool wood floors, following the warm scent of scrambled eggs, butter, and cinnamon toast. It drew him in like a lifeline, like nostalgia on a plate. He rounded the corner into the kitchen and froze.

There they were.

His mother stood at the stove, flipping eggs with her usual practiced rhythm, humming a soft tune something old, soulful. Her floral apron was slightly askew, and her hair was tied up in a loose bun. The morning sun pooled in the kitchen, casting a warm golden halo around her.

At the table sat his father, already dressed in his faded mechanic's uniform, grease-stained and worn at the edges. He sipped from a chipped mug and flipped the local newspaper with a grunt. His grizzled face was half-shadowed, but Jordan could see the lines were fewer, the shoulders less slumped.

They hadn't changed.

Still whole. Still alive.

Jordan gripped the doorframe, breath caught in his throat.

They're here.

He hadn't realized his eyes were brimming until his vision blurred.

"Jordan?" his mother asked, pausing mid-hum. "You're up early, baby."

Her voice hadn't aged a day.

He nodded slowly. "Yeah. Just… smelled breakfast."

She narrowed her eyes. "You okay?"

Jordan wiped his face quickly with the back of his hand, trying to force a smile through the knot in his chest. "Yeah. Just… missed your cooking."

His mom raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You see me every morning."

"Not like this," he murmured.

Before she could ask again, he stepped forward and hugged her tight. Solid. Real.

She stiffened slightly, startled. Then chuckled, setting down the spatula. "Well, this is new."

From behind the newspaper, his dad peeked over the rim of his glasses.

"What's gotten into you?"

Jordan turned and crossed the room in two long strides. "Good morning, Dad."

His father leaned back slightly. "You on something? You're smiling like you passed a math test or something."

Then

"Get OFF me, creep!"

A high-pitched shriek broke the moment.

Jordan burst out laughing as Mina, his 12-year-old sister, squirmed past him, defending her cereal bowl like a knight guarding treasure. Her hair puffed out in two lopsided buns, and she wore an oversized anime hoodie that nearly swallowed her whole.

"Why're you so weird today?" she said, eyeing him like he was a stray cat. "You're usually a zombie in the morning."

"Yeah!" came another voice, this time smaller and squeakier.

Jace, the youngest of the Kai clan, marched in behind her, still wearing his cartoon pajamas and sipping from a juice box like it held ancient wisdom. "You got a girlfriend or something?"

Jordan laughed. "Nah. Just… good vibes today."

He reached out and ruffled their hair.

Mina promptly slapped his hand away. "Gross. You're too happy. Go be a main character somewhere else."

"I'm trying," Jordan said, grinning.

His mom slid a plate in front of him scrambled eggs, toast, plantains on the side, just like she used to make on game days.

"Eat," she said. "You've got your game today, right?"

Jordan sat down and stared at the food for a second. It was warm. Comforting. Real.

He nodded slowly. "Yeah. Regionals."

His dad set his mug down. "You ready?"

Jordan looked up, voice steady. "More than ever."

There was a brief silence as everyone chewed, slurped, or shuffled around the table. But his mom kept sneaking glances at him curious. Soft.

"You're… different today," she said finally. "Like your shoulders ain't carrying the whole damn world."

"I have to be," Jordan replied, eyes steady. "No more running. I'm playing for real this time."

His mom didn't say anything.

But she smiled.

His father folded the newspaper. "Good. I put twenty bucks on you with the guys at the garage."

Jordan blinked. "Wait, what?!"

His mom groaned. "He's joking. Mostly."

His dad shrugged. "Don't disappoint me."

Jordan gave a mock salute. "Sir, yes sir."

[System Notification]

Family Bond: +1 Emotional Resilience

Bonus Trait Activated: Clarity Under Pressure – Lv. 1

"You remembered what mattered. And it made you stronger."

Jordan stepped out into the crisp morning air, gym bag slung over his shoulder, shoes scuffing the pavement.

He paused on the walkway.

The Kai household behind him looked just like he remembered weathered but sturdy, a little crooked at the fence, a little loud from the inside.

He never thought he'd see it again.

Now it was his anchor.

This time, I fight for more than myself. I fight for everything I let slip away.

[Regional Quarterfinals]