Now, I'm aware that Schneider was not originally a Nazi. I don't think that all Germans are Nazis, either. I just saw some episodes with him in it and thought, "Good golly, he acts like he's a Nazi or something!" Anyway...this story was written by both my sister and I, and edited by yours truly. Heh...go ahead...read it...

It didn’t look good.

It was half time. The score was three to one. Tsubasa Ozora, the tragic captain of Nankatsu, led his depressed team off the field as their adversaries looked on with a mixture of triumph and compassion. They had fought so long...played so hard....it couldn’t end this way! It couldn’t! It just wasn’t fair. They had trained so hard...for so many years...and it had always been enough to lead them to victory before!

And Tsubasa knew it. He knew he couldn’t give up hope. It had fueled him so far, and he wasn’t going to throw in the towel yet. "We’re not going to lose, team!" he told the rest of Nankatsu forcefully.

He was answered by a distinct lack of enthusiasm. "How could you say that?" a nameless, generic teammate asked in a sullen voice, eyeing his captain dully. "They’re much stronger than us!"

"Yeah!" Ryo Ishizaki agreed, sounding rather obnoxious, which was normal for him. "We’re taking such a beating, we might as well forfeit right now!"

"I agree," announced Takasugi. "We only have so many teeth! If we keep at this, the dentist bills will be expensive!"

Tsubasa sighed and turned from his friends to the setting sun. It was a late game, and now the red-gold sky met his eyes, filling his mind with conflicting emotions. He felt his throat tighten. "We can’t give up!" he cried. "We can’t abandon my dream....my dream of winning the championship for the twentieth time in a row!"

He was answered by numerous unintelligible mumbles. Dejected, he lowered his head and walked on. It was too much...he knew that he was ready....ready to go to Brazil with his former coach and friend Roberto Hongo...but how would he prove himself if he didn’t win...didn’t prove that he was the greatest soccer player in Japan...? Roberto had said he’d come back for him when he was good enough...and it had been so long...

Sitting in the crowd, a girl with unfortunate fashion sense watched the grieving Captain. Tsubasa...she had watched him for what seemed like an eternity. Ever since he joined Nankatsu when they were both ten years old...she had watched him. She had started off as just his friend...and had grown to love him. Would he ever notice? Now...all she could do was offer him support... "Tsubasa, please don’t give up!" Sanae called, standing up and revealing her too-small blue shirt and white pedalpushers to the rest of the unwitting audience. "I know you can win!"

Tsubasa didn’t even look in her direction. What would Roberto think of him now? He was weak...so weak that he couldn’t even fulfill his lifelong dream of beating Toho in the championship for the twentieth time! It was too much...too much weight for his soul to bear...the guilt...he let Roberto down....

Suddenly, all the weight seemed to fall on him at once. With a choked cry, Tsubasa collapsed.

Again.

Tsubasa! Seeing this, Sanae screamed at the top of her lungs. "Tsubasa, no!" she cried. "Help him! Somebody help him!" She broke away from the rest of the Tsubasa Ozora Fan Club and began to run toward the field. She had to help him...it was her chance! She had to show him...

She had almost jumped the rail when something made her stop.

Something evil.

A lone figure stood some ten yards from the sideline, observing the scene. The enemy captain...the captain of Toho. Kojiro Hyuga. Silent, as usual...just looking at them like a wild animal not quite ready to strike. The remaining members of Nankatsu watched in horror as he moved suddenly, raising one arm over his head, holding up two fingers. Then three.

"That...bastard!" Ishizaki spluttered, not even caring that his language would possibly get him kicked out of the game, "...how....what does he think he’s doing...?! He hasn’t won yet!"

Yes...that motion was a blatant challenge from the captain of Toho. The last time he had done that, he--

"...." Hyuga let his arm drop, his expression growing sad. "Three times..." he said softly, almost to himself. "Three times already, and the game is only half over..." He gazed at Tsubasa’s unconscious form, his dark eyes strangely brooding. Lying there on the grass....out cold....for the third time...

"Still, I can’t believe that jerk’s nerve," Ishizaki grumbled. He had just dragged Tsubasa’s semi-conscious body to the infirmary. "Like he’s the greatest soccer player who ever lived! After today’s game, I’m gonna get him! He’ll be sorry he ever played against us!"

Tsubasa sat down on the cot in the corner of the room. It felt so familiar...all firm and cool... He smiled at the simian-looking boy rather dippily. "Ishizaki kun..."

Ishizaki looked at him with wide eyes. "Tsubasa kun!" he cried, recognizing that giddy look. "Don’t die yet! I’ll get the doctor, okay?" And with that, the boy with the patent leather hair was gone. The silly smile on Tsubasa’s face only widened. So many memories...

Yes...this room had so many memories. He was reminded of the last time he was in this place...struggling to wake up...surrounded by anxious friends and teammates...all awaiting the moment when he would open his eyes...it was a good ten minutes ago, wasn’t it?

His eyes had been closed for only a moment when he was awakened by a familiar voice. Well...it wasn’t really very familiar...but he could make out a rather ear-grating German accent... "Good afternoon, Aryan brother," the voice said. "You’re looking well."

Tsubasa sat up with a start. A banana blond boy was standing in the doorway. He was clad in a gray jumpsuit and holding the end of a leash. A rather large brown dog stood next to him. "Karl..." he gasped. Yes...it had to be Karl Heinz Schneider. He..had played against him in Europe...they called him the Kaiser, and with good reason. He was one of the most amazing soccer players he had ever met.

Schneider smiled. "I’m happy that you recognize me," he said. "However, I’m not here for idle chatter." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small card. "Take it," he ordered. He stepped forward, revealing that he had not come alone. His teammate Hefner stood behind him, his odd hair like a giant, light brown tongue in the bright lights of the infirmary. For some reason, he was standing at attention.

Tsubasa did as he was told, accepting the tiny piece of paper. He blinked several times, but not to clear his vision. He could see the intricate writing just fine. He just had never learned to read German.

Schneider had obviously noticed his confusion. "It’s an invitation to join the Nazi Boys Club, Aryan Tsubasa," he announced. His normally calm blue eyes seemed to expand, making him look slightly crazed. He smiled broadly. "It’s that time of the year again, Brother."

Tsubasa blinked. "What time of the year, Karl...?" he asked weakly.

"Join us!" was the German boy’s idea of a response. He bared his teeth in a rabid grin. "Make the Fuhrer proud!" It was becoming clear that his eyes were not only crazed, but bloodshot as well. Was he mad? Apparently not. He seemed rather pleased. "You only have to do one good deed for initiation, " he told him. Then he shoved his face close to Tsubasa’s. "Do you understand?" he demanded.

"Perhaps you should tell him what the good deed is," Hefner suggested from the doorway.

"Silence!" Schneider barked. "I know that already, fool! I’ll do it my way." His voice then softened, making Tsubasa wonder if he had just imagined his past outburst. He was feeling kind of dizzy... "Fellow Aryan..." he began, "Here’s what you have to do. When you return to the game, put the non-Aryan out of commission."

Tsubasa blinked. Non-Aryan? What non-Aryan? They were in Japan! Maybe he meant... "Who do you mean?" he asked. "No...it can’t be...Hyuga kun? But he’s..."

Schneider nodded. He leaned even closer to the boy, his gaze frighteningly calm. "Sweep the leg," he told him, his accent growing so thick that the other boy could barely could barely understand him.

His breath smelled like beer, good German beer....it engulfed Tsubasa, nearly hypnotizing him with its intoxicating odor... Nazi Boys Club...put the non-Aryan out of commission...but Karl...he had changed... Suddenly, the captain of Nankatsu began to feel like he was getting drunk, off his visitor’s breath, no doubt. "Could you...run that by me one more time....?" he whispered. He could barely think...

"Yes..." Schneider intoned in a hissing voice, not as an answer to the boy’s question but as a confirmation of his plan. "You’ll be perfect."

Tsubasa shook his head then, as if he had awakened from a deep sleep. "Thank you, my friend," he said.

After a few moments of meaningful silence, Schneider straightened and clapped his hands once, but not before pressing a piece of cloth into Tsubasa’s hands. "Luck and prosperity, Brother," he said.

He and Hefner goosestepped out.

After the two of them had left, Tsubasa examined what the blond boy had given him. A Nazi armband.

This will continue...if anybody is actually reading it..sigh...oh, by the way...for all you non Captain Tsubasa fans, when Hyuga kun raises one arm over his head, then holds up two fingers(or three), he is signalling his opponents that he will get that number of goals. (Well, not this time...) He did it twice in the anime...yeah, Hyuga kun has some weird habits, but he is still cool. Really!

Part Two
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