Mina san, this story needs a name....I know. Coming soon...
Takeshi Sawada, Toho’s resident infant and Hyuga’s personal yes-man, turned around as he saw his captain walk out of the door behind Nankatsu’s bench. His tiny face broke into a bright smile. "Hyuga san!" he cried. "You’re back!" The rest of the team burst into wild applause as Hyuga approached them. However, judging from the solemn expression on his face, he was not in a mood to joke around.
"What’s wrong?" asked Ken Wakashimazu, the team’s goalie and resident pretty boy. He looked at his captain with concerned eyes, absently brushing a strand of long black hair out of his face. Since he and Hyuga had always been the authority figures on the team, only he could dare to ask. "Does it have anything to do with Tsubasa?"
For some reason, this made Hyuga laugh, just a bit. Then he turned away, facing the red-orange sun. He sighed. Tsubasa...you and I have always been rivals. Ever since we were children. Since the day we played against each other for the very first time, I’ve respected you...even though we were always enemies... He closed his eyes briefly, lost in thought. I saw you collapse so many times. I never liked watching you lose, Tsubasa. And when you fell that last time, a part of me was hurt, too. I followed your friends--my enemies--I followed them despite my torment, just to see if you were all right...and this is how you treat me...?! Why the hell do you think I deserve this, Tsubasa?!
He clenched his hands into fists, so tense that his arms were shaking. Tsubasa... he cursed silently. Tsubasa...damn you...
"Hyuga san?" Little Takeshi’s voice shattered his reverie. "Hyuga san, what’s wrong...?"
No...I have to stay in control... Hyuga shook his head, trying to clear it. "I’m fine," he said, smiling at the young boy. "I just need you to do me a favor."
"I’ll do anything you want me to, Hyuga san," Takeshi said, returning the smile. "What is it?"
"I need a pen and some paper," his captain told him. "Could you please get those for me? And some tape, too."
Naturally, Ken was less than convinced by his captain’s explanation. "Are you sick or something?" was all he said, though.
"No, don’t worry. I’ll be fine in a minute."
After a few moments, Takeshi returned with the requested items. "Here you go!" he said cheerfully, handing them to Hyuga. "But remember, the game’s about to start again!"
Hyuga nodded, understanding. "I’ll make it quick," he replied. Turning away slightly, he uncapped the pen and scribbled something on the piece of paper. He stuck a piece of tape on top on the paper, then handed the rest back to Takeshi, who was watching him with wide, innocent eyes. "Thank you," he said. "You’ve been a big help."
The boy blushed furiously. "Well..."
The whistle blew to restart the game. Both of the teams had taken their places on the field, ready to renew their fight. Hyuga was surprised to see Tsubasa back in his position, moving rather easily for somebody who had just collapsed in front of everybody. Tsubasa... So...he wasn’t giving up yet... He approached his lifelong rival, an unreadable expression on his face. As he walked up to the boy, he noticed a flash of red on his arm. His eyes narrowed. That can’t be... "I’m glad you’re feeling better, Tsubasa," he said in a low voice.
Tsubasa nodded, smiling. His own eyes were strangely glassy, as if he was still feeling a bit out of it. "I’m not going to lose yet, Hyuga kun!" he chirped. "I still have my dream to fulfill!"
Hyuga’s expression grew even darker. However, he forced himself to smile. "That’s what I wanted to hear," he said, patting the boy on the back almost affectionately.
Tsubasa’s smile grew even wider. "I’ll beat you yet, Hyuga kun!"He then moved away from the opposing captain, turning to the rest of his teammates. "We can still win!" he called.
A resounding cheer answered him.
"Follow all steps of Plan C!" the boy instructed them. "You all know...there’s only one person who can help us now..."
Hyuga gave Tsubasa’s back an odd look. What is he doing, putting on a play? What in the world is he up to...? He got his answer soon enough. Suddenly, all the members of Nankatsu began to move around their goal. They were carrying bags, white plastic bags that appeared to be stuffed full of something...they all formed a semicircle around their own goal...
"Ready, Tsubasa kun!" they all chorused.
Tsubasa grinned. "Me too." He then turned to the goal. When he spoke, his voice was strangely sad. Too sad. "I’m sorry, Morisaki kun," he said to his goalie, who was starting to tremble in fright. "I’m sorry it has to end this way. But our dream must be fulfilled."
Morisaki cowered in the goal, then started to scream. "NOOO!!!!" he shrieked. "Tsubasa, DOOON’T! I didn’t do anything!" This all would’ve been very touching if he didn’t sound like he was getting so into it.
Tsubasa smiled thinly. "Too bad for you, Morisaki kun," he announced.
On that cue, the half-circle of players descended on the goal. Although the members of Toho were unable to see exactly what was going on, they could hear the whizzing of small, deadly objects...well...they assumed that was what it was supposed to be...sounded more like the soundtrack to a 70’s cop show... Those big black boxes in back of the goal had been there for a reason, after all... The whizzing was punctuated by screams of pain. And finally, a thud. As the team fell back, what had just happened became clear.
Morisaki’s lifeless body was sprawled just outside the goal, dark blood dripping out of every pore. All the blood...it poured out of his nose and mouth, staining the grass a sticky purple.
Hyuga said something that would have probably gotten him thrown out of the game if it were intelligible. "How..how brutal..." he gasped, so overwhelmed by shock that he didn’t even notice the acrid smell of paint in the air. He lowered his head. I mourn your loss, brave Morisaki. You’ve come so far from your fear of the ball.
Tsubasa gazed at his team’s handiwork in odd rapture. He kicked poor Morisaki kun’s body just as the boy began to open his eyes, rolling it over with his foot. "May you go straight to your reward," he said.
His teammates searched their captain’s face for any sign of emotion. Could it be possible, under the eyes of all their fans, that they had gone too far? They didn’t understand, not one bit.
"Hurry, guys!" Tsubasa said impatiently, ripping off his soccer uniform to reveal an odd looking Shinto get-up. He pulled a streamer-topped magic stick out of his sleeve and handed it to Ishizaki. Then he pulled out another, and another, handing them out until his entire team was armed. He then brandished his own magic stick in an exaggerated motion and began to swing it from side to side. "We must channel the spirit of Genzo Wakabayashi into the body of Yuzo Morisaki, who has failed us!"
"Right!" the team chorused.
"Now, follow me. Right to left, then left to right," Tsubasa instructed. "And remember the chant, team."
"Genzo, come back to us," his teammates chanted, swinging their magic sticks in rhythm. "Genzo, come back to us..." As they repeated this, Tsubasa moved so that he was directly in front of Morisaki’s ruined body.
"Genzo, can you hear us?" Tsubasa asked in an ominous voice. "Our team is doomed and we need your help." He resumed stick-swinging. "Gen---AAAHHHHH!" With a battle cry resembling that of a wounded cat, Tsubasa reached down the front of his robe and flung a handful of something unrecognizable at his feet.
Clouds of blue-gray smoke shot up from the ground, engulfing Morisaki’s corpse and sending Tsubasa and the rest of his buddies into uncontrollable coughing fits. The pointy-haired captain stepped back, blinking, as the smoke gradually died down to reveal a shadowy figure.
"You--" Tsubasa gasped in a stage whisper.
The remaining smoke had now completely cleared. Standing before them was the very real Genzo Wakabayashi, complete with red band pants. He straightened his hat and smiled at the millions of fans gawking down at the goal. "It’s me, Tsubasa," he proclaimed.
Tsubasa apparently couldn’t believe his eyes. "But, where--" he began, his child-like voice ringing out over the hushed field, "...why..."
"I had some business there," Wakabayashi interrupted, ten times louder than before. "In hell."
"In hell?!" Ishizaki asked, his eyes wide. "Did the Devil get you, Wakabayashi?"
His face suddenly darkened, and he gestured for them to come closer with a gloved hand. "What the hell did you just do, Tsubasa?" he demanded in a low voice. Morisaki was nowhere in sight. "Don’t you think you went a little too far?! The public’s still out there, you know!"
Tsubasa laughed nervously, an idiotic grin on his face. "Gee, we really couldn’t help it, Wakabayashi kun...heh, heh...you aren’t a registered member of the team, and we needed to find a way to sneak you in...I don’t think there are any rules against stoning your goalie."
Wakabayashi scowled. "What do we need rules for?! I’m rich--I can do whatever I damn please!!!"
Ishizaki snickered, scratching his head. "And it’s a good thing you are, cuz we had to charge that dry ice to your account!"
"I’ll put it on your tab," the goalie said sarcastically. "All right, let’s finish this already. The clock’s still ticking."
He straightened, turning to the crowd with a determined expression on his face. "All right, Tsubasa, I’ll tell you the truth!!" he cried.
Tsubasa blinked. "Wakabayashi kun?"
Wakabayashi grinned evilly, positioning his hat to take full advantage of the sinister shadow it cast over his eyes. "The truth is...I AM THE DEVIL!!!!!"
The crowd let out a communal gasp.
The goalie smiled, satisfied. "That’s right, Tsubasa," he told the trembling captain. "I have a plan. One that requires you to play all the positions."
Ha ha ha! Now the show begins!
Part Three
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