He was a fool. That was the thought that caused him to quit soldiering. To distance himself from his wife. He didn’t believe that a fool like him had any right to ask Cerise to bear his eggs again. Cerise was still young. She would be happier bearing the offspring of some other, better man. He was so sure of this that even when Cerise pursued him repeatedly, he cruelly rebuffed her.
It was only right that this should be his fate: to die old and useless and alone.
That was why he couldn’t muster up any enthusiasm for this game, no matter how much people might want him to.
Those were the thoughts swirling in his mind as he stepped silently out onto the soccer field.
The air was impossibly heavy. There was no more cheering from the crowd; instead, they were looking venomously at the disappointment that was the lizardman team. Lizardmen might not have pronounced facial expressions themselves, but that didn’t mean they were oblivious to what humans were feeling. The contest had been so lopsided that the knights were far, far ahead in goals.
The lizardman had the kickoff.
“Brooke...”
“The hero...”
The beseeching gazes of his teammates pierced him. He walked between them, some to his right and some to his left, until he was standing in front of the ball. He still had no desire to play, but if all he had to do was kick this thing straight ahead, he would manage it.
He drew his foot back and—
“Brooke!” a familiar voice called. It was coming from the stands.
He looked back, and there was Cerise. Myusel was with her. It was his wife who had called his name.
“Brooke-saaaan!” Myusel yelled. He hadn’t suspected the demure girl of having such a strong pair of lungs. “The ball! The ball is one of your eggs—one of the ones you couldn’t save!”
This took him completely aback. He stared down at the ball in front of him. What did Myusel think she was saying?
“Brooke!” Cerise’s voice cut through his confusion. “This is your chance to take it to a safe place!”
Still he said nothing. It was not a real egg, of course. Yes, the size and appearance were quite similar, but this was something else completely. Brooke knew that. The eggs he had lost... those had been real eggs. They were gone, and he would never get them back.
And yet...
Ahh. I think I see now, Brooke thought. He had been unable to forgive himself because he could have protected his eggs, but hadn’t. He could not bring himself to say, as Cerise did, that it was what it was.
Yet all of that hinged on a hypothetical world. If he hadn’t been at war, would he have been able to protect his eggs? Maybe, maybe not. There was no way of knowing. The eggs were gone, and there was no changing that.
No amount of self-recrimination would undo what he had done, but neither could he forget it all and go back to the way things had been. So instead, he had cut himself off from Cerise and everyone he knew.
But...
“This—”
This ball, here in front of him.
The eggs he had been unable to protect so long ago.
Well, then he would test himself, here and now. He would see whether he was truly fit to be called a hero. Whether he could protect this egg.
Perhaps then he would be able to accept all of it.
“Listen up, you lot,” he growled, staring intently at the ball. “We’re going to give it everything we’ve got.”
“Yessir!” A joyous cheer went up from the lizardmen.
“Sssssshhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaa!” Brooke raised the unique lizardman war cry and kicked the ball.
The course of the game changed almost immediately. And Brooke was the reason.
With their hero on the field, and with that yell reminding them of what a soldier he used to be, the lizardman morale skyrocketed. Suddenly, they were at the top of their game.
There was no more hesitation. If they managed an upset victory against the knights, there was a chance it would turn people against them even more. But they didn’t seem to care. They were ready for anything. With that mindset, the lizardmen’s athletic prowess turned out to be a match even for that of the beast people.
“Incredible! Amazing! This is absolutely unbelievable!” Matoba-san was caught up in paroxysms of excitement. “He got through! Three defenders! Four! Five! The knights just can’t get the ball back!”
He was right: while Brooke dribbled, all the other lizardmen deftly covered the knights, keeping them at bay. The royal forces were so used to shooting the ball from a distance that when the lizardmen got up in their faces, they didn’t seem to know what to do.
And Brooke kept running, the ball safely at his feet. It almost seemed glued to his toes. It didn’t bounce. It didn’t jump. It didn’t get away from him for an instant. Several of the knights’ players managed to slip around their guards and throw themselves at Brooke, but he dodged them without so much as blinking. Compared to rolling an egg, handling a soccer ball was easy work for the likes of Brooke and his people.
“Don’t look now, but a wall has been thrown up in front of Brooke!”
Magic from the knights’ side—the same stuff the dwarves had used—created a wall that was blocking Brooke’s progress. But he showed he could do more than go in a straight line: he dodged the wall neatly, and casually resumed running.
More knights launched themselves at him, but they failed to get anywhere near the ball.
“Goodness gracious, what’s this?! Have the knights gotten desperate?”
What the knights came up with next, believe it or not, was offensive magic.
“I have to imagine that directly attacking another player would be grounds for a red card...” Matoba-san said.
“Yes, but they aren’t targeting the player,” Zahar replied. “Most likely, they’re aiming for the ball.”
“The ball! Brilliant! In soccer, you would never get a red card for abusing the ball!”
Well, no. Abusing the soccer ball is sort of the point.
The knights must have hoped they could land an explosion or something close enough to the ball (which was to say, close enough to Brooke) that they would be able to pluck it right away from him. One slight miscalculation would result in an attack on Brooke and a red card, but the palace mages working with the knights knew how to make their magic very accurate, how to focus its power in a single place.
“Ssssssshhhhhhaaaaaaaaaa!”
It turned out even magical attacks couldn’t stop Brooke. He dodged to the right, to the left. He dribbled the ball neatly past every obstacle.
“This! Is! My! Egg!” he bellowed.
There was no one ahead of him. Perhaps he was saying it to himself.
“I will never!” He ducked another explosion. “Again!” He dodged past an earthen redoubt in his way. “Let it be broken!” He spun around several knights who came flying at him. “I will protect it!” He couldn’t take a straight line, but step by step he was gaining ground.
His shouting, fired by the fury and passion within him, carried clearly around the stadium, even over the noise of the explosions. I could hear it as if he were standing next to me. I was sure the other spectators could, too.
“Well, now,” Petralka said in surprise. “Is he—Is he pretending that ball is his own egg?”
“This is unexpected,” Garius murmured. “Such spirit. Who knew lizardmen could show such vigor in the defense of their young? I always took the cold-blooded creatures to be more... dispassionate.”
Petralka made a sound of admiration in the back of her throat. “The lizards may not look like us, but it is clear that parents and children share a bond...”
I thought, or at least wanted to think, that she was voicing the feelings of everyone watching the game.
People called the lizardmen cold-blooded; took their scaly faces as expressionless. People treated them almost like bugs, as if they were emotionless machines. I don’t think anyone expected to see this display of overwhelming passion.
&nb
sp; But it paled in comparison to what came next.
Brooke ran.
A number of obstacles kept him from taking a straight course, but he ran just the same. He juked right, then left, avoiding fire and earth and members of the other team.
“You dirty, stinking—!” One of the knights shouted and flung himself at Brooke. It just so happened that they were hidden by one of the earthen walls; it was impossible for the spectators to see what he was doing, least of all from Her Majesty’s viewing box. The knight was aiming straight at Brooke. And he was deadly serious.
The knights were still quite a few points ahead, but with Brooke’s entry into the game, momentum had shifted decisively in favor of the lizardmen. An upset victory looked increasingly possible, and it drove the knights to desperate measures. This guy went for the ball, but his foot connected with Brooke’s ankle instead.
Brooke let out a voiceless gasp and stumbled. His bones were of course too strong to be broken by a simple human kick, let alone one intended to look like an accident. But lizardman joints weren’t much less vulnerable than those of a human. Even Brooke was going to notice a hit like that.
It cut into his momentum. He couldn’t roll the egg—no, the ball—so easily anymore. His footwork had been perfect until that moment, but now he was thrown off his game. The knight didn’t manage to steal the ball, but when Brooke got moving again he was noticeably slower than before.
This was bad. There were three more knights heading straight for Brooke, not counting the guy who had just kicked him. Brooke’s teammates had their hands full with various magical impediments and couldn’t back him up.
Brooke made no sound. But he had sworn, this time, to protect his egg—no matter what he had to do. Honor. Integrity. Such things had nothing to do with this. As a man—as a father—he was going to keep his vow.
“Sshhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”
For Brooke, the ball had transcended being a substitute for an egg and had become an egg itself. One of the eggs he had lost that day. He had been given a second chance to protect his children, and the idea had taken hold with the force of an obsession.
Or perhaps, by that point in the game, Brooke had become completely delusional.
“Yaaaaaaahhhhh!”
He looked at his leg; he knew he couldn’t run well enough to protect the egg. So instead—
“Oh! What’s this?! Matoba-san’s voice sounded from overhead, but Brooke paid no heed. Without a moment’s hesitation, he grabbed the ball and set off at a dash.
“A handball! That’s a handball! Brooke is in violation of the rules—”
As if he cared.
He was going to protect that egg, no matter what!
Brooke thought of nothing but his promise as he ran. Fancy weaving was beyond him now, but he could run. A dull pain (lizardmen did feel pain, even if less acutely than humans) pulsed up his leg, but he ignored it and kept moving. He held his egg tightly, safely in his arms.
“That is clearly illegal! Brooke is obviously in violation—but he won’t stop!”
Truer words were never spoken. He wasn’t stopping, and now no one could stop him. Brooke was the Hero.
“Can’t you hear them, you bastard?!” one of the knights shouted. “You’re in violation! Stop where you are!”
“Shut your foul face!” Brooke shot back, and continued running.
The next instant, there was an earthen wall in front of him.
It was that familiar spell, Eruou Iruguna. But with all the momentum he had built up, this time Brooke couldn’t dodge it.
The fact didn’t seem to bother him. If anything, he ran faster.
“Shaaaaaaa!” With a great shout, he punched through the wall with his shoulder. He managed to hit it before it was completely formed, while it was still soft, and the force of the blow was enough to bring it tumbling down. Now covered in mud, Brooke kept running.
“That son of a—!”
Now the knights were really angry.
“Somebody stop that monster!”
“Anyone! This isn’t a game anymore!”
They weren’t immune to Brooke’s intimidation factor, but they flung themselves at him, no longer caring about red cards or being ejected from the game. They hit him with their fists, grabbed him with their hands. But still Brooke didn’t stop.
He shook off the knights, or dragged them along as he moved ever forward. He broke past first one, then another, and then he was through their blockade.
And then—
“Hold it right there!”
The soldiers weren’t the only ones affected by Brooke’s display of spirit.
“I’ll take your holy li’l friend there!”
It was, of all people, Elvia. You could hear the whoosh as she jumped down onto the field, landing just in front of the goal. She—or perhaps more precisely, the beastly part of her—had been inspired by the air of battle. Now she was charging straight at Brooke, her eyes practically bloodshot.
“What the hell?!”
“Yikes! Keep away from me!”
The blood had gone to Elvia’s head, and she was naturally in no state to pay any attention to the knights around her. Brooke twisted his body and used the very knights who were still clinging to him to ward off Elvia’s attack. The men could only cry out, busy as they were holding on, but Elvia, agitated by her “phase of the moon” and protected by powerful muscles and thick fur, didn’t seem to notice anything was wrong, even when Brooke was slamming knights into her. In fact, she easily sent them flying.
“Ssshhhhaaaaaaa!”
“Grrraahhhhhhh!”
They may have technically been a lizard and a werewolf, but they might as well have been a dragon and a tiger—pretty evenly matched. On top of that, the remaining knights, along with Brooke’s fellow lizardmen, and even the weretiger and werebear from Elvia’s team all jumped into the brawl.
“Hrrraahhhh!”
“Yaaaaaaaahhh!”
“You bastaaaaarrrddds!”
“Diiiiieeeee!”
“Eeeeyaaahhhh!”
The stadium filled with all the noise of combat.
“You know, I heard something once,” Minori-san whispered to me. When had she gotten to the viewing box?
“What’s that?” I asked, most of my attention still on the field below.
“I heard rugby started when some kid playing soccer let the blood go to his head, grabbed the ball, and started running.”
“Uh... Huh.”
“We may be witnessing the birth of Eldant rugby.”
“Yippee,” I said, raising a fist unenthusiastically.
Is this what they mean by history repeating itself? Or was this, perhaps, inevitable? They say you can’t distinguish coincidence from fate, but this was beyond even that...
“Never mind. This is no time for some half-baked monologue.”
“True enough.”
“What do we do?”
“Think we should dump a bucket of water on them?” Minori-san said mischievously.
The indolent glow of sunset turned the soccer field golden.
The field had been turned upside down, almost literally. It looked like there had been a natural disaster: here there was a rent in the earth, there, an impromptu mountain, somewhere else, a newly formed crater. It was an absolute mess. And amidst all the chaos, thirty-ish people lay collapsed.
Not like, dead, mind you. They were all simply too tired to get up. The knights. The lizardmen. The beast people who had charged onto the field—to say nothing of the elves and dwarves who had joined in after that, not entirely sure what was going on but certain they wanted to be a part of it.
The JSDF, at least, had retained their sanity. But with all this ridiculousness going on, it was actually the calm, thoughtful humans who lost out. Now the soldiers were crawling over the battered soccer field, retrieving the fallen players. Maybe it made a certain perverse sense; search and rescue was a specialty of theirs, after all.
Ri
ght in the middle of the field, which had seen the most intense action of all, knelt a single figure.
It was Brooke.
He was holding the ball up in both hands, as if in offering to the setting sun. Elvia, incidentally, was collapsed right next to him. She looked almost as bad as the field, her face swollen and bruised. Maybe it was because she had insisted on going toe-to-toe with Brooke. But in any event, she seemed to be breathing.
“Brooke...” Myusel and I, along with Cerise, came down onto the field. “Do you... feel better?”
“Master,” Brooke said, looking at me. “Was it, perchance, you who plotted to have Myusel remind me of my eggs?”
“Yes, that was me. I’m sorry for sticking my nose in your business.”
Brooke was silent for a moment, staring at the ball with that same distant look in his eyes.
Finally he said, “Cerise.” His voice was almost a whisper.
“Yes?”
“This does not mean our eggs have come back to us.”
“No, it doesn’t...”
Both of them sounded downbeat. A ball, in the end, was just a ball, and could never bring back the eggs they had lost. The children they had lost.
“But it has given me the confidence that I will be able to protect the next one.”
“Brooke...” When she said her husband’s name, Cerise’s voice trembled just a bit.
“Would you copulate with me again, and bear my eggs?”
“I will,” Cerise said, quiet but sure.
Myusel and I stood some distance away, smiling. “Ain’t that just th’ sweetest thang?” I said, wiping my eyes.
“What’s with the drawl?”
Who should wander up at this moment of emotional climax but Minori-san and Petralka?
“Oh, uh, you know,” I said.
“They sound so innocent and sweet.”
Myusel nodded in agreement with Petralka’s judgment. “It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” she said, smiling.
And, well, that’s the story. That’s how soccer came to the Eldant Empire—to this whole other world, in fact.
Outbreak Company: Volume 3 Page 17