I’ve always said anime sports boys are superior.

Tall, handsome, ridiculously talented… and somehow, even when they’re sweaty from a game, they still look like they belong on the cover of a magazine. I’ve spent years watching their matches on screen, memorizing their voices, and maybe—okay, definitely—imagining what it would be like to stand courtside with them.

Of course, that was just a fangirl’s daydream.

Or so I thought.

One night, after binge-watching my favorite volleybal anime until I fell asleep surrounded by posters of my “2D boyfriends.”

When I woke up…

Something happened.....

Chapter 1 — “Just Another Day in My Otaku Life”

Wenalin Pov

If I had to describe my life in one sentence, it would be this: short girl, long hair, big dreams, zero athletic skills… but obsessed with sports anime.

My name’s Wenalin Khang, I’m 4’9" (yes, I’m aware that’s shorter than some middle schoolers), I have long black hair that reaches my waist, and apparently a voice that makes strangers in convenience stores say, “Aww, are you in grade school?” when I’m literally holding my high school ID.

But that’s fine. I’m used to it.

Right now, my brain was entirely occupied by my latest obsession: Ace of Victory!, the greatest sports anime ever made in the history of sports anime. Volleyball Check. Overly dramatic slow-motion action shots? Double check. A cast of beautiful boys with tragic backstories? Triple check.

My walk to school every morning basically looked like this: earbuds in, Ace of Victory! opening song blasting at maximum volume, my steps matching the beat like I was part of the team.

When I finally reached the campus gates, the morning sun hit the glass windows of the building, and the smell of freshly baked bread from the cafeteria made my stomach growl. I dodged a couple of boys chasing each other with a football and muttered, “Idiots,” like the grumpy anime senpai I was born to be.

Sliding the classroom door open, I scanned the room for one person—

“Wen-Wen!”

There she was. My best friend and fellow anime addict, Mika Shoulder-length hair, and the kind of energy that could make a dead plant perk up. She waved her arms dramatically like she was trying to signal an airplane.

“You’re late,” she said, pointing at me like an accusing detective.

“I’m literally five minutes early.” I dropped into my seat beside her. “Your sense of time is as broken as your ability to guess anime plot twists.”

She gasped like I’d just insulted her ancestors. “Excuse me? I predicted exactly who would win the semifinals in Ace of Victory! last week.”

“You also said the coach was secretly an The father of one oof them .”

“Well…” She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “The season isn’t over yet. You never know.”

I rolled my eyes and started unpacking my bag.

Mika immediately noticed the new keychain dangling from my pencil case.

“Is that—?!” Her eyes widened.

“Yup.” I held it up proudly. “Limited edition Tsuyoshi charm. Straight from Japan. My cousin ordered it for me.”

Tsuyoshi the blocker from Ace of Victory!, aka my number one 2D boyfriend. Tall, smart, sharp tongue, soft heart—basically everything I will never find in the real world.

Mika squealed, snatching it from my hand to inspect it. “Ugh, you’re so lucky. All I have is this…” She dangled her own bag charm—an off-brand plush that looked like it had survived a war.

“It’s… unique,” I said carefully.

“It’s tragic, is what it is.” She sighed, plopping it back into her bag. “Anyway, did you see the teaser for the new Ace of Victory! OVA?”

“Obviously.” I clutched my chest dramatically. “tsuyoshi hair in that scene… I swear, the animators love me personally.”

We spent the next fifteen minutes loudly discussing our theories for the OVA, complete with bad reenactments of our favorite scenes using our pens as “volleyballs.” At one point, Mika got so into it she nearly knocked over a classmate’s water bottle, earning us a death glare.

The bell rang, but we were still whispering about whether or not Kaito secretly had a twin brother when our teacher walked in and gave us the “I know you’re not paying attention” look.

Another normal day.

Just me, Mika, and a world where anime boys stayed safely on screen.

By 5 p.m., school was over, my brain was fried from math class, and I was 100% ready to do something that actually mattered—like buy more Ace of Victory! merch.

Mika and I power-walked to Otaku Paradise, the best anime store within a 10-kilometer radius. The glowing sign was like a beacon from heaven, and the moment we stepped inside, the familiar smell of new posters and overpriced plushies hit me like a warm hug.

“Okay,” Mika whispered, her eyes scanning the shelves like a hunter spotting prey. “Operation Volleyball Boyfriends is a go.”

In Ace of Victory! there were ten volleyball gods who owned my soul:

Tsuyoshi, the tall, sarcastic middle blocker with glasses (cold on the outside, cinnamon roll on the inside).

Kenshin, the quiet, cat-like setter who moved like he was half asleep but never missed a play.

Kurato, the smooth captain who was part genius, part troublemaker.

Levin, the sweet giant who smiled like sunshine but spiked like a meteor.

Bosuke, the loud, excitable wing spiker who acted like every practice was a party.

Ushio, the calm, powerhouse ace with a “yes, ma’am” face.

Oimatsu, the charming, smug setter who lived to tease opponents.

Kichiro, the composed, farm-boy captain who gave “dad energy” to the whole team.

Sadayoshi, the serious germaphobe spiker who wore a mask even during interviews.

Rin, the cool, sly middle blocker who always looked like he was plotting something.

Basically, my dream boyfriend.

We dove straight into the merch section, and I nearly screamed when I saw a limited-edition Tsuyoshi poster. “MIKA. HOLD MY BAG.”

“Why?!”

“Because I need both hands to grab this before someone else does!”

I snatched it off the rack like it was the last piece of food in an apocalypse. Meanwhile, Mika had her arms full of keychains—shiva, Kurtz, and a suspicious number of Takami duplicates.

“I swear you have like three Takami already,” I said.

“Four,” she corrected. “But this one’s wearing the special training jersey, so it’s different.”

We wandered from shelf to shelf like kids in a candy store. Mika found a Bosuke plush that yelled his famous catchphrase when you squeezed it (“Let’s go, baby!”), and I found a Kichiro mug that said Drink your milk, stay humble.

Then we spotted the holy grail: an entire Ace of Victory! volleyball set, complete with team logo, player signatures, and a mini poster of Ushio doing his deadly spike.

“Should we…?” Mika asked.

I nodded solemnly. “We should.”

Of course, we both completely forgot we were broke high school students until we saw the price tag.

“Mika… it’s ₱3,000.”

She stared at it for a solid five seconds. “…We could split it?”

“Then we’d have joint custody of a volleyball.”

“That’s fine, we can make a schedule—”

We were still debating the logistics of volleyball co-parenting when the cashier cleared his throat behind us. “Uh… are you two going to buy that or…?”

We panicked, threw our treasures onto the counter, and left the store with a plastic bag each, walking home like two victorious warriors who had just raided enemy territory.

“Today was a good day,” Mika said, clutching her new keychain.

“The best,” I agreed, hugging my Tsuyoshi poster.

Just another normal day in my normal life.

At least… that’s what I thought.

By the time I got home, my arms felt like noodles from carrying the weight of my newly adopted volleyball sons.

I pushed open the front door and called, “I’m home!” The smell of garlic and ginger told me Mom was in the kitchen, which meant I had exactly thirty seconds before she saw the shopping bag and—

“Wenalin Khang!,” came her voice, sharp as a medical scalpel. “What is that in your hand?”

I froze mid-step. “Uh… groceries?”

“Groceries don’t have Tsuyoshi’s face printed on them.” She appeared from the kitchen doorway, still in her white coat from the hospital, hair tied neatly back, stethoscope around her neck like she could check my pulse just to prove I was lying.

I hugged the bag to my chest. “It’s just… anime stuff.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Anime stuff?”

“…Yes?”

With the speed of a trained surgeon, she swooped in and pulled the bag from my arms. She peered inside, her expression shifting from disbelief to outrage.

“Wenalin! You spent how much on… keychains? Pillows? Mugs?!”

“Mom, you don’t understand, this is limited edition—”

“I understand perfectly! You’re wasting your allowance!”

Before I could respond, my dad’s voice drifted in from the living room. “What’s all the yelling about?”

Dad strolled over, still in his business suit, tie loosened, the picture of a man who’d closed five deals before lunch. He peeked into the bag.

“Oh… volleyball boys. Again.” His lips twitched into a chuckle. “Let her enjoy her hobbies, hon. We can afford it.”

Mom whipped her head toward him with a glare that could stop a man’s heart. “That’s not the point, Renaldo. She needs to learn the value of money.”

Dad just shrugged, completely unfazed. “And she will. But right now, she’s what—sixteen? Let her fangirl. It’s better than her spending on something dangerous.”

Mom inhaled slowly through her nose, clearly deciding whether to argue or accept defeat.

“Fine,” she said at last, pointing a warning finger at me. “But you’re not getting extra allowance this month. And no more anime spending until next semester.”

I nodded, clutching my bag protectively like she might snatch it away again.

“Understood.”

Dad gave me a discreet thumbs-up from behind her back.I smile at him I'm lucky to have my dad

As I escaped upstairs to my room, I could still hear them bickering in the kitchen—Mom muttering about discipline, Dad saying something about “letting kids live their dreams.”

I dropped the bag onto my bed, flopped beside it, and stared up at my ceiling covered in Ace of Victory! posters.

If only I knew how real those dreams were about to get.

Wenalin Pov

After surviving the “Allowance Wars” downstairs, I retreated to my room with my merch, changed into my favorite strawberry-print pajamas, and set up camp at my study table.

Now, if my mom peeked in, she’d think I was hard at work, catching up on school assignments or revising for exams. The truth? My laptop screen was filled with the glorious faces of the Ace of Victory! volleyball team.

Homework: 0% complete.

Anime rewatch: 100% complete.

I clicked play, and there they were—Tsuyoshi towering over the net like an absolute wall, Kenshin casually setting with the precision of a robot, Kurato smirking like he knew I was watching from another dimension.

“Ugh, Kurato, you smug legend,” I muttered, hugging my Levin plush.

From my study table, the perfect anime-watching survival kit was laid out:

A cup of instant ramen (beef flavor, obviously)

A pile of Pocky sticks

My phone open to a group chat with Mika, who was also rewatching from her house and live-commenting every scene.

Mika: “WHY DOES BOSUKE’S HAIR LOOK EXTRA FLUFFY THIS EP”

Me: “PROBABLY SHAMPOO COMMERCIAL SPONSORSHIP”

Mika: “STOP—”

The hours passed in a blur of spike shots, dramatic slow-motion scenes, and background music that made me feel like I could win a volleyball championship even though I can’t even catch a ball without flinching.

I reached for my ramen, only to realize I’d eaten it thirty minutes ago without noticing. My Pocky stash was almost gone too, and my eyes were starting to feel heavy.

On screen, Rin was giving an inspirational speech about teamwork.

“Preach, Rin,” I mumbled, propping my chin on my hands. “You’re the reason this team doesn’t fall apart…”

My eyelids fluttered. I shook my head, trying to stay awake. I still had two more episodes left in my rewatch marathon, and you can’t just stop before the season finale. That’s anime law.

But the warm light from my desk lamp, the soft hum of my laptop fan, and the faint scent of strawberry fabric softener from my pajamas… it was a dangerous combo.

One second I was watching Tsuyoshi block the ball with enough force to break the laws of physics.

The next second, my head was sliding forward onto my arms.

My last blurry thought before sleep took over was:

“Tomorrow, I’m going to rewatch the OVA too…”

And just like that, my marathon ended with me passed out at my study table, surrounded by empty snack wrappers and the comforting presence of my merch army.

...----------------...

.

When I woke up, my neck felt like it had been folded into an origami crane from sleeping at my study table. I groaned, sat up, and blinked at my surroundings.

Something… was off.

I blinked again.

No… something was missing.

My walls looked strangely bare. Not empty, but… different. I rubbed my eyes, thinking maybe I was still half-dreaming, but when my vision cleared—my heart nearly stopped.

Where was my Tsuyoshi poster?

Where was my wall of Kurato prints?

Where was my limited-edition Levin plush display shelf?!

Instead—

Oh no.

Oh no.

Every inch of my room was plastered with glossy posters of… K-pop idols.

Perfect hair. Glittering stage outfits. Charismatic poses. Half of them were winking. The other half were glaring like they were about to break into a dance break. My desk was covered in lightsticks, photo cards, and glittery slogan banners in Hangul I couldn’t even read.

I spun around to my bed—where my Levin plush should have been—and instead found a giant pillow shaped like some guy’s face.

“What… the… anime hell… is this?”

I stumbled to my laptop, hoping maybe this was just a prank. I opened the lid and—bam!—the wallpaper was a K-pop group photo. The folders were named things like “COMEBACK STAGE” and “Bias Pics,” and even my browser was open to a fan café page.

“This is witchcraft,” I whispered.

Panic surged through me. I did the only logical thing—

I screamed.

“MOOOOMMY!”

I bolted out of my room, down the hall, and straight into the dining room where my mom was sipping coffee.

“WHAT DID YOU DO?!” I accused, pointing dramatically toward my bedroom.

She blinked at me over her mug. “...What?” Raise an eyebrow

“My anime room! My merch! My boys! They’re all gone! And now—now—” I threw my hands up, “—I’M IN SOME KIND OF K-POP DIMENSION!”

Mom slowly put her cup down. “K-pop… dimension?”

“Yes! There are boys with microphones and sparkly jackets everywhere! My room is like a concert venue exploded!”

She stared at me like I’d grown two heads. “What are you talking about… you’ve been a K-pop fan for years.”

I froze. “…What?”

“You have albums, posters, and go fan meetings! You cried when that one member enlisted!”

My jaw dropped. “I have never cried over a boy in my life. Unless he was animated!”

Mom frowned, genuinely confused. “Wenalin… you haven’t watched anime since middle school.”

I felt my brain short-circuit. “...This is a joke. A prank. Hidden cameras somewhere, right?”

She shook her head slowly, sipping her coffee again. “You should eat breakfast before you say more nonsense.”

"No! I'm telling the truth mom!I know your mad at me for buying some anime merch but you don't have to....." I didn't finish because mom glare at me.

mom:"Stop and eat already!"

But I knew the truth. Something was very wrong. And if my anime life was gone…

Where did it go?

...----------------...

I didn’t even finish breakfast.

The moment Mom started acting like my anime obsession had never existed, I grabbed my bag (now apparently covered in K-pop pins—ugh) and stormed straight to school.

Every step toward campus, my brain was screaming.

This doesn’t make sense. I’m fine with alternate universes in anime, but not when it happens to me!

By the time I reached the classroom, Mika was already in her seat, munching on bread and scrolling through her phone. The moment I slid the door open, I stomped up to her like an angry chibi character.

“Mika.”

She looked up mid-bite. “...Why are you glaring at me like I owe you money?”

“Something’s wrong.”

Her eyes narrowed, suspicious but also mildly amused. “What did you do now?”

I slammed my hands on her desk. “Do you know all my stuff of Ace of Victory was gone!”

Her expression was pure confusion. “Ace of… what?”

I blinked. “…Ace of Victory!The volleyball anime. Tsuyoshi, Kenshin, Kurato—”

“Bless you?” she said, like I’d just sneezed.

My eye twitched. “Dont bless me I'm serious Mika, I’m talking about the anime we obsessed over! You remember yesterday We went merch shopping yesterday at Otaku Haven! You hugged a Kenshin pillow like it was your child right”

She laughed—laughed—like I’d told a joke. “Wenalin, you’re mixing up your worlds again. The last time I watched anime was… I don’t know, middle school? We’ve been K-pop fangirls since forever.”

when I heard that I was shock

I stared at her, my heart pounding. “What are you talking about?No. You love anime bruh. You even roasted me for buying that Kurato mug because you wanted it first!”

“Kurato?” She tilted her head. “Is that the new rapper in EXO?”

I gawked at her like she’d just committed a federal crime. “HE’S A CAPTAIN! OF A VOLLEYBALL TEAM! NOT A—” I stopped mid-yell, because people were starting to stare.

Okay. Breathe. Focus. Prove it.

I yanked my phone out of my bag, typed “Ace of Victory anime I'll show it to you it's seems that your head bump into the wall or your just pranking me right now” and I search Ace of Victory into the search bar, and hit enter.

Nothing.

Not just “no results”—it was like the title didn’t exist at all. No wiki pages, no fan art, no merch listings. Just random news about some baseball team from another country. What's going on

“This… this can’t be real,” I whispered.

Mika leaned over to peek at my screen. “You seriously searched for an anime that doesn’t exist?” She grinned. “Girl, you’ve been staying up too late watching comeback stages again.”

“I HAVEN’T WATCHED A SINGLE—” I stopped, my voice cracking. This wasn’t a dream. This wasn’t even a prank?.

It was like someone had hit the “delete” button on my entire otaku life, replacing it with K-pop… and I was the only one who remembered what was supposed to be there.

Mika went back to eating her bread, humming some idol song under her breath. I just stood there, clutching my phone, feeling like the floor might open up and swallow me.

WHAT'S GOING ON!!!!!