“Drive Shoot!” The cry rang out like a slash in the night, and a soccer ball whipped through the air, hitting the net with a solid smack.

Genzo Wakabayashi’s eyes flew open, and he hastily rose from his supine position against the exposed root of a cherry tree. Even from a distance, he could feel its power...”Masaka...”he muttered, lifting the brim of his hat with his index finger. “The fourth goal in a row?”

“What’s the matter with you, Wakashimazu kun?” Tsubasa asked impatiently, motioning for one of his lesser teammates to bring him another ball. His scowl deepened beneath the harsh glow of the overhead lights. “You haven’t stopped a single shoot all night! We won’t stand a chance against Schneider if you don’t shape up!”

Wakashimazu wiped off his chin and lowered his eyes, his dirt streaked features obscured by wildly disheveled hair. “Sumimasen...”was all he said. “I can’t seem to concentrate...please, let me try again!”

Takeshi made his way over from midfield and picked the ball out of the net. “Try and relax, Wakashimazu san,”he coaxed, handing him the offending object. “You can do this if you put your mind to it! You’re the best!”

“Again!” their captain cried. He drew his leg back and prepared to shoot, not bothering to wait for the younger player to vacate. “We’re gonna keep going till we get it right!”

“Take it easy, Tsubasa kun!” a voice admonished. Tarou Misaki placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder before he could follow through. The two watched in silence as Wakashimazu murmured an inaudible response to Takeshi’s questioning gaze, shook his head, and drew away, tossing the ball aside. “I’ve never seen him act like this before,” Misaki turned to Tsubasa, his childlike eyes filled with concern. “He must really be upset. Do you think Kojiro--”

“Hyuga kun sure did let him have it.” Tsubasa sighed. “He was fine an hour ago! I didn’t think it would bother him so much! I don’t know what to do.”

“We’ll make him happy again,” his friend assured him. “But...Tsubasa kun...” Misaki dropped his voice to a whisper. “Isn’t Wakabayashi playing in tomorrow’s game? Maybe we don’t need to push him so hard....”

His captain recoiled as if he had been shot. “What are you saying, Misaki kun?!” he gasped, horrified. “Wakabayashi kun is injured! We need somebody to sub for him, and Morisaki kun still hasn’t recovered from his last anxiety attack!

“Besides,” he continued in a voice several octaves higher than normal, “we’re the Japan Youth Team! Our fans--and our warrior spirits--are waiting to be led to victory! Until we realize our dream, I won’t go easy on any of you! The team that fights together wins together! Don’t you get it?!”

The remaining players exchanged uncomfortable looks. Tomorrow’s match would be a tough one, and they were seriously lacking in skill. How could they even think to challenge the German Youth team?

“It’ll be fine,” Wakabayashi spoke up.

In a motion that, to the outside viewer, would have seemed ridiculously choreographed, the Japan Youth team turned to their powerful goalkeeper.

“Wakabayashi kun!” Tsubasa, subdued, regarded him with round eyes. “Why are you here? You should be resting!”

“I’m tired of lying around doing nothing.” The ‘Super Great Keeper’’s face, under the wide stare of the moon and the shadow cast by his ever present cap, seemed almost ghostly. He smiled. “There’s no way I’m slacking off, not with this little bruise. Put me in, Captain. I’m ready to play.”

“But what about your--”

“My hand’s fine, Tsubasa.” Wakabayashi grinned broadly and flexed his right hand in demonstration. Not a flicker of pain creased his brow. “See?”

Tsubasa laughed, nodding vigorously. “Okay, then! Let’s go, minna!

“Wakashimazu kun!” he called enthusiastically towards the goal. “You can take a break! It’s okay! We’ve got Wakabayashi kun to play with us now!”

“Not so loud,” Wakabayashi murmured, holding a finger to his lips. Tsubasa flushed.

Wakabayashi sauntered over to the goal, patting the dejected Wakashimazu on the back as he removed his gloves, flung them on the ground and tried to regain his composure. “Take a break, big guy,” he said, his eyes twinkling good-naturedly. “Shake those rocks out of your head. Gen chan’ll take care of everything, so don’t you worry.”

Gen chan? The other goalkeeper might’ve smiled if he weren’t already stricken with self loathing. He trudged off the field with his head bowed, his countenance a portrait of tragedy. Takeshi followed close behind, carrying the discarded gloves. “Wakashimazu san! Wakashimazu san, matte!”

“Wha...HEY!” Tsubasa called, cupping his hands over his mouth like a megaphone. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m going to help him practice,” the boy replied nervously. “Is that all right?”

His captain fell silent for a moment, casting a wary look in Misaki’s direction. Misaki shrugged. “Go ahead,” Tsubasa said. “Just be sure to come back before the game, okay?”

“Hai! Wakarimashita!” Takeshi gave him a little two-fingered salute and scampered off.

Tsubasa scratched his head, bewildered. Things just kept getting weirder and weirder... He turned to the figure now positioned in the goal. “You sure you’ll be okay?”

Wakabayashi frowned. “Why do you keep asking me that? Don’t you trust me?”

The boy shook his head, then kicked at the ground with his toe, vexed. “No, it’s not that, it’s just...” He looked up, his eyes swimming with tears. “Wakabayashi kun, I’m so sorry I stepped on your hand yesterday! The phone had already rung three times, and I didn’t know you were sitting there...you don’t hate me, do you?”

“Tsubasa.” The goalkeeper chuckled. “Silly boy...I know you would never intentionally harm anybody! You’re too stupid! So why don’t we get going before the sun comes up?”

Tsubasa beamed. “Arigatou, Wakabayashi kun!” He turned to the others, his arms flung out wide as if he were trying to gather the entire Japan Youth team in an enormous group hug. “Minna....IKU ZOOOOO!”

“Oi, Tsubasa!” Ishizaki called from the defensive line before the other players sprang into action. “We’ve got a little problem here.” He pointed to a heap of cloth lying on the field near the sidelines. “We’re two players short now! Sorimachi bugged out on us!”

“Oh, no...” Fear flickered across Tsubasa’s face as the monkey-like defender kicked the discarded garment over the reveal its telltale insignia. “How could he? This isn’t going to work!”

“Don’t worry about it, Tsubasa.” Wakabayashi, adjusted his gloves, unconcerned. “This’ll blow over in no time.

“Besides,” he added with a wink, “you’re forgetting that you have Genzo Wakabayashi, the world’s greatest goalkeeper, as your opponent! Let’s go, Tsubasa! Who needs those two? I’ll take you and Misaki on at the same time!” Wakabayashi, pleased that all eyes were on him, threw his head back and began to laugh loudly.

Misaki nodded, an angelic smile frozen on his lips.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”Ishizaki asked, shooting his captain a warning glance which was promptly ignored. “Maybe we’d be better off calling it a night and springing for a--”

“DAMARE!” Wakabayashi sent his left elbow smashing into the back of the boy’s head before he could finish. “I’m the Super Great Goalkeeper, and don’t you forget it! You have a lot of nerve talking to me like that!”

Ishizaki staggered back into position like a junkie coming off a fix. “You heard the man,” he said, giving the forward line a lopsided OK sign. “Let’s get it on!”

“I’ll play on your team,” Tsubasa spoke up. “Misaki kun, you come, too.”

A communal wail of disapproval issued from the opposite side of the field. Wakabayashi scowled.

“But Tsubasa, you can’t leave us!” Masao Tachibana protested. “That’s not fair!”

“It’s not!!” his brother agreed. “We need you to balance things off! Who else is going to help out Morisaki?”

Poor Morisaki dropped to his knees, tears streaming down his face. “Tasukete, Tsubasa kun!” he wailed. “I’m afraid of the ball again!”

Tsubasa blinked as the cacophony of complaints swept over him, and Misaki giggled helplessly nearby. Both sides of the field beckoned them with wraith-white, dejected teammates in need of their support. They had responsibilities to every one of them! It was their duty as soccer’s Golden Pair to use their power to help others! Now, who needed them the most?

“Ishizaki’s team lost Takeshi and Sorimachi,” Tsubasa stated, “and we lost Hyuga kun, but we still have the Tachibanas, Souda kun, and Matsuyama kun...” He paused for a moment, thinking deeply. “I’ve got it! I’ll switch teams, and you stay here, Misaki kun! Is that okay, minna?”

“Guess so,” Souda said complacently.

Misaki nodded, and Tsubasa gave him a brief wave before switching sides.

“Oh YEAH!” Ishizaki cheered. “Tsubasa’s here to stay!” Laughing happily, he swept Nitta into his arms and did a swaggering tango around the goal. “All right!”

“You’d better get ready, Tsubasa kun!” Misaki said in mock warning as the two faced off in center field. “I’m gonna give you the fight of your life!”

However, Tsubasa was not ready to play. He walked over to the penalty area, his brow knit in concern. “Well, what do you think?” he asked Wakabayashi with an anxious smile, his teeth flashing white in the night. “What do you think of this arrangement?”

Wakabayashi glowered at him. “What do you think, you bastard?!” With that, he hurled a soccer ball square at the boy’s face, turned on his heel, and stomped off. Tsubasa hit the ground with a sick thud. “Gaaaaa.....”

“Hmm....” Kazuo said thoughtfully as several people rushed to revive their fallen captain. “What do you think’s gotten into Wakabayashi?”

“I dunno,” Masao admitted. “Maybe it was something he ate!”

They burst into peals of laughter.