91

The Soccer Field

"I hate the moon – I am afraid of it – for when it shines on certain scenes familiar and loved it sometimes makes them unfamiliar and hideous." – H. P. Lovecraft, "What the Moon Brings"

Daisuke's head jerked a little off the surface it had been resting on. Then he realized where he was and relaxed, his head hitting the bleacher a little harder than he meant it to. He had had a nightmare, something which didn't happen very often. Daisuke's most common dreams were daydreams, thoughts of the present or of the sunny future, little fantasies involving soccer or Hikari-chan or, in the past two years, the Digital World and the adventures to be had there. If he dreamed at all while asleep, the dreams tended to be little more than a series of images and impressions, the fleeting conceptions of an imagination that didn't extend far beyond everyday life.

This time had been different. He had actually seemed to feel the heat of that desert and the sting of the sand. And there had been underground tunnels, where he had found something horrible. There were other parts of the dream that he remembered. They were fuzzy now, but he knew that when he was still asleep it had all been very clear. It was the worst dream he had ever had. It had been bad throughout, but the worst part had come at the end, when he and the others had been beaten, and V-mon had been killed.

The thought caused him to raise himself up again, to verify that Chibimon was nearby, but of course he wasn't. Chibimon was probably back home, where Daisuke should be. He sat up and stretched, swinging his feet off the bleachers and settling them on the grass of the soccer field. What was he still doing out here? The night air was unseasonably cold, and he felt it keenly after being in that hot desert.

"Ah…stupid," he muttered. There was no desert. Now that he was awake the dream was fading into a half-remembered discomfort. Looking down the field, he thought about the game that he had played there earlier in the day. The streetlights did little to illuminate the field, but in the sky hung a full moon whose light invested the grass with a faint glow that made it easy to see.

Another humiliating defeat. There was no getting used to them; each loss tore at his pride, and fired him up with the thought of a chance to redeem himself. No one had been there to see his team get beaten, but that was small comfort. He was used to playing in front of spectators that didn't personally know him, but it irked him more than usual to not have had any friends in the bleachers today. Just someone to cheer him on. His parents rarely attended his games, and his sister never did – not that he would have wanted her to. But Taichi, at least, could be expected to come to a number of Daisuke's games. Today there was no one.

He stood up. A cool breeze came whispering through the grass, and he shivered when he felt it. He'd always hated the cold. It would be a long walk home. He turned to go, when a sound drew his attention to the stairs that led up the bleachers. It was the unmistakable bounce of a soccer ball, and he spotted it immediately, hopping down the stairs as if it had gently rolled itself from the street above.

Daisuke stared at it a few seconds, blankly. There was something odd about it, apart from its sudden appearance. Daisuke didn't know much about physics, but he knew soccer balls, and this one was acting strangely. It didn't pick up speed as it rolled and bounced, but descended one step at a time at a measured pace. It annoyed him a little bit. When it hit ground-level and started rolling into the grass, he stepped forward without thinking and gave it a kick onto the field by way of revenge. Watching its arc in the air, he saw something else odd.

Someone was standing in the soccer field. He didn't know how he could have missed them before, but they must have been standing there the whole time; there was nowhere else they could have come from. Daisuke winced, thinking that the flying ball might hit them, but it flew harmlessly past them at about a meter's distance.

"Sorry about that!" Daisuke called out, rubbing the back of his head as he stepped forward. The figure didn't respond. Looking more closely, Daisuke realized that he couldn't make out any details of the person's appearance. They were around his height, but he couldn't even tell whether it was a boy or a girl. They stood in shadow, in strange contrast to the visibility of the rest of the field.

"Wanna play?" the figure asked. It was a boy's voice. Daisuke didn't recognize it, though he felt like he should. That sense of familiarity was joined by an equally mysterious sense of unease. There was nothing strange about the voice itself, but he felt a tingle in his spine anyway. He heard a faint rustle in the grass, and saw that the soccer ball was under one of the boy's feet.

"Hey, how did—" then he stopped himself. It must be a different ball. He'd just missed it like he'd missed the kid standing over it.

"Well, come on, do you wanna play or not?"

"I should…probably get home," Daisuke answered, still wondering about that voice and what made it strange.

"Ah, come on! Just a few shots."

"But we're the only ones here," Daisuke pointed out.

"So what? That just means there's no one here to see you lose."

"Tch." Daisuke was starting to get annoyed. He really didn't want to stick around with this guy. It was a cold night, and the kid kind of gave him the creeps. But it wasn't in his nature to back down from a challenge. He hesitated a moment longer before answering. "…Okay. A few shots."

"You're the first as goalie," the other said. Daisuke gave a grudging nod. Goalie was not his usual position, and he'd wanted to just show this kid a thing or two and then leave, not sticking around long enough to have to switch off positions.

"Alright," he repeated. "Just a few shots."

They faced each other at the nearer goal. The soccer ball lay in the grass as a pale disk, like a dim second moon. No artificial light source was directed at the field, and Daisuke's opponent was still anonymous in the insufficient moonlight. He could make out the boy's features to some extent, but they remained shadowy, and hard to pin down as a complete picture.

"Get ready!" There was very little time between the warning and the kick. Daisuke tried to intercept the ball, but his reflexes were slower than usual, either from just waking up or because of the chilly night. The ball shot past his outstretched hand, and collided with the net. "I hope you have more in you than that," his opponent said. There was some mockery in the voice, but also an apparently genuine disappointment.

"Let's go again," Daisuke said, keeping his anger in check as he passed the ball back to the other. He was better prepared for the second kick, which drove the ball in at a different angle. Hand and ball connected this time, but the ball's momentum carried it on, making Daisuke wince at the pain in his ungloved fingers and curse at whatever his problem was.

"Man, you suck tonight," the kicker said. "Glad I'm not on your team anymore."

"You weren't on my team," Daisuke answered, barely suppressing the urge to tell the kid to shut up.

"I was at first," the other retorted. "You probably just don't remember because we didn't talk much."

"Alright then, what's your name?" Daisuke asked, returning the ball. Before answering, the other boy launched a third kick, catching Daisuke off guard and scoring another goal. "Hey!"

"Score on me and I'll tell you," his opponent answered.

"Fine!"

"Following your lead got old real fast," the boy said as they traded positions. "Must be even worse for the people who are stuck with you."

"I don't hear anyone complaining," Daisuke said. He gave the ball a powerful kick, expecting it to shoot right past the other boy. But it didn't. Instead it bounced off the goalie's chest. Daisuke's mouth fell open. In the dark, he hadn't seen the boy move – the guy was just suddenly there.

"Maybe you're not listening hard enough," the boy said, catching the ball before it hit the ground. "Try again." He threw Daisuke the ball, launching it straight outwards from his chest. Daisuke caught it and stood there a moment.

"You don't know what you're talking about," he said.

"I know everything about you," the other responded. "Maybe if you actually recognized me you'd know that."

Daisuke dropped the ball and kicked it as it fell. The boy in the goal made another quick move, and the ball rebounded from his shin. Daisuke heard that strange but normal voice out of the darkness.

"You're about as bad at soccer as you are with girls. Have you tried basketball?"

"Oh, shut up!" he answered. "What's your problem, anyway? And who are you?"

"Can't tell you. You still haven't scored."

Daisuke growled under his breath and quickly stepped over to where the ball had landed, rounding on it and giving it another hard kick. He heard the sound of an impact, and saw the ball held between the boy's hands.

"Damn it…"

"I bet you're glad Taichi-senpai isn't here to see this," the goalie said as the ball came rolling again across the grass. "Or Hikari-chan."

"How do you know them?" Daisuke demanded, eyes widening.

"Because I know you. Of course I know them! Man, you really are as stupid as they make you out to be."

Daisuke wanted to respond immediately, but had to swallow first. "What are you talking about?" he said, doubly annoyed by his involuntary response. "They're my friends. They wouldn't call me stupid."

"Idiot. Of course they would. Haven't they pretty much said it to your face before?"

"No they— Well…they never said it like that," Daisuke said. His opponent smirked audibly.

"But you know it's what all your friends think, right?"

"Well—" Daisuke said, stammering at first but then regaining his confidence. "Well, even if they do, they're still my friends. They like me how I am. Ken and Takeru said so, on Valentine's Day."

"Yeah, I remember. Now come on! Are you going to shoot again, or what?"

"Wait— Ah!" Daisuke dropped his question in favor of another savage kick of the soccer ball. Instead of the hoped-for swish of the goal net, there was another punchy thud as the goalie deflected it with his knee.

"Maybe you should try keeping it on the ground."

Daisuke glowered, not responding. It wasn't much of a surprise that he couldn't score, with his limbs a little numbed by the chill of the night. Damn the cold and this jerk for bothering him! He couldn't just leave; neither his pride nor his curiosity would let him. He was staying right here until he could figure out who this guy was and how he knew so much about him and his friends. He thought back, trying to recall where he had met this kid before. How could he not remember someone who seemed so familiar? In his mind he heard Takeru: The Daisuke-kun that acts without thinking is better!

Shut up, Takeru, he thought.

"Should we just quit?" the other said.

"No, not yet," Daisuke responded. He spotted the ball in the grass where it had come to a rest and gave it a kick. Like the goalie had suggested, he kicked it along the ground, knowing that that would be harder to deal with than something airborne. His opponent's feet moved fast, kicking the ball away from the goal once more, but Daisuke kept his eye on it, and kicked it again, at a sharp angle.

Quick though the other boy was, it was a move that he hadn't expected, and the ball rushed into the net at one corner of the goal. Daisuke let out a whoop. The goalie turned around to stare at the soccer ball, as if he wasn't sure to believe what had happened.

"Alright!" Daisuke said, smiling at his victory. "Who are you?"

"Tch. What are you so happy about?" the other said, turning around again. "You made one shot. And it's the last time you'll ever score."

"What are you—"

Daisuke winced as light suddenly flooded the soccer field. At first he squinted in the unexpected glare, but then his eyes widened and he gasped at the sight of what stood in front of the goal.

It was like looking into a mirror, but at the same time not like that at all. It wasn't a reflection. The clothes were different and the stance was different – but the boy was him! That voice was his, and he hadn't recognized it!

"Idiot!" he saw himself say. "Who else would it be?"

"B-But…" Daisuke stammered.

"Oh, just shut up," his double said, advancing on him. "Loser. You lost all those soccer games, and you lost V-mon, and you're going to lose Hikari-chan and everything else."

"I didn't lose…" Daisuke's voice trailed off as he remembered the dream he had been having. "But that was just—"

"You'll know, when you really wake up," the other said, stopping in front of him. Daisuke's brain didn't quite process what his doppelganger meant before it latched onto what was said previously.

"And what about Hikari-chan?"

"You'll lose her, like I said. And Takeru will too. All your friends are going to lose everything. Even if you were as smart as Ken or Takeru you couldn't win."

"You're wrong!" Daisuke said. "Whatever we're up against, me and my friends can beat it!"

His double gave him a disgusted look before turning away. "Stupid. Stupid, stupid."

"Hey! Get back here!"

Daisuke reached out to grab the retreating figure by the shoulder – and his hand passed right through it. The whole thing was gone in a moment – his double, the lights, the soccer field – only darkness and the cold of the night remained. Daisuke drew back his hand with a frightened cry of surprise, but something clung to it like frost. He yelled again, this time in pain. It felt like a million tiny needles of ice were working their way into the flesh of his hand.

The cold and the pain spread. It moved up his arm. It reached his chest and he screamed in pain, falling to his knees. Inexorably it swept over and through him as an icy tide. There were icicles in his brain, frozen shards in every part of him. The cold became his body. It became his world.