Kairi Has Thought About Coming Home

Loss, when it repeats itself, begins to ask questions.

After ONIC Esports fell to Team Liquid in a do-or-die lower bracket match at the M7 World Championship, Indonesia’s “Sky King” Kairi Rayosdelsol, better known as Kairi, sat with the silence that follows elimination. It does not demand answers right away—but waits. Patient. Persistent.

One of those questions has followed him for years now.

Has Kairi ever thought of coming home?

“Opo. Medyo madalas po, napapaisip ako. Syempre parang napapaisip ako magka M-Series.”

(“Yes. Quite often, I find myself thinking about it. Of course, I end up thinking about the M-Series.”)

It sounds like a confession, but also like a reflex—something the mind returns to without permission. Moments later, he corrects himself, as if wary of overstating the feeling.

“Ay hindi pala madalas, ano pala, minsan lang.” (“Ah, not really often—actually, just sometimes.”)

As if to say: the thought exists, but it does not own him.

The last time it surfaced, he remembers clearly.

“Siguro after namin matalo sa MSC sa EWC.” (“Maybe after we lost at the MSC during the EWC.”)

Defeat has a way of reopening doors you thought were already closed.

And yet, there is no bitterness in how Kairi speaks about Indonesia, the country where his career has flourished and where he has grown—not just as a player, but as a person navigating adulthood under bright lights. We asked him if he had any regrets moving to Indonesia.

“Wala naman po. Naging maganda naman po ang career ko sa Indonesia, at okay naman po ang pagtrato sa akin ng ONIC Indonesia.”

(“Not really. My career in Indonesia has been good, and ONIC Indonesia has treated me well.”)

Care matters. Stability matters. Being seen, and treated well, matters.

At M7, that sense of belonging was tested in a different way. ONIC, an Indonesian team. Team Liquid Philippines, a Filipino one. The crowd knew where its heart was.

Indonesia Offered Kairi Citizenship Twice

How did it feel, playing while your own countrymen cheered against you?

“Okay lang po kasi kung ako po ang nanonood sa Pilipinas, susuportahan ko rin po ang Team Liquid Philippines kasi Pilipino rin po ako. Hindi ko po ginagawang abala po iyon sa paglalaro ko.”

(“It’s okay, because if I were watching in the Philippines, I would also support Team Liquid Philippines since I’m Filipino too. I don’t let it affect how I play.”)

There is no resentment in the answer. For Kairi, identity is not a switch you turn off. It is something you carry even when it complicates things.

That same clarity emerged when he spoke about a moment that could have changed everything: Indonesia offering him citizenship.

“Opo, noong SEA Games 2023, 2022.”

He did not hesitate then. He does not hesitate now.

“Ayaw ko po.” (“I didn’t want to.”)

Why?

“Ayaw ko po na i-represent lang ang Indonesia lang po.”

(“I didn’t want to represent solely Indonesia.”)

And when we asked if it’s because he still loved the Philippines, it came out almost instinctively.

“Syempre!” (“Of course!”)

Love for the Philippines, it turns out, was never the question.

Interest from other teams—even from home—has hovered in the background.

“Ang alam ko po meron mga offers, kaso hindi ipinapaalam sa akin, at hindi ko rin po tinatanong.”

(“As far as I know, there are offers, but they aren’t relayed to me, and I don’t ask about them either.”)

Pressed further, he admits:

“Ang alam ko po maryoon, last season po ata mayroon.”

(“As far as I know, there was an offer—maybe last season.”)

Still, he stays.

Not because it is easy. Not because the thought of returning never comes. But because choices, at this level, are rarely about sentiment alone.

“Unang una po, dahil po sa pera, dahil gusto ko pong pagandaahin ang buhay ng pamilya ko. Iyon po ang pinaka dahilan.”

(“First of all, because of the money—because I want to improve my family’s life. That’s the main reason.”)

It is a practical and honest answer.

So what would it take to bring Kairi home?

Kairi laughs, not dismissively, but helplessly.

“Hindi ko po alam, eh! Kasi po, maganda talaga ang trato sa akin ng ONIC. Kung mahahati ko lang po ang katawan ko sa dalawa! Kasi po ayaw ko rin po silang iwan, dahil sobrang okay po ng trato sa akin ng mga kakampi ko at ng team ko.”

(“I honestly don’t know. ONIC treats me really well. If only I could split my body into two! I don’t want to leave them either, because my teammates and the organization have treated me so well.”)

If there is a tragedy here, it is not about flags or leagues. It is about abundance—about being cared for in more than one place, and having only one body to offer.

For now, Kairi remains where he is. Not because he has forgotten where he came from but because staying, too, is a form of loyalty.

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