Heroes Without Capes

Tears

Ooshiba stared at them in disbelief. Disbelief turned into realization, and realization turned into horror.

This wasn't happening.

Kimishita had wanted a pro contract. He had needed one, badly. And Ooshiba was the one to get it.

This was wrong.

He shook his head violently. Blinked. Shook his head again. The two were still there, wearing friendly smiles as if nothing had happened.

"Sorry to overwhelm you like this. I understand if it's a little out of the blue," the woman said, and Ooshiba resisted the urge to lash out at her. Don't act like you understand a thing! You don't know shit!

"But please think it over," the man added, completely ignoring the way Ooshiba glared at him like a cornered beast, hoping for nothing more than for him to go away. "It's a great opportunity, and–"

"Who else did you ask?" Ooshiba interrupted him, frantic and hopeful. Maybe they had offered Kimishita a contract too, maybe all wasn't lost. "Did you ask the captain?"

The scouts looked at each other in confusion, then back at him.

"Did you?" Ooshiba insisted, and the moment he spoke the words he knew how the answer would be.

"No," the woman said gently. "He played well, but since he was subbed out we didn't see enough of him to tell if he's fit for our team. We'll have to observe him a bit longer, but the odds are good that–"

Ooshiba stomped his foot like a spiteful child. "You can't observe him longer!" he exploded at them, a mess of panic and frustration and fury. "He needs that contract now! Now! It's an emergency!"

"I'm sorry to hear that, but we can't help him!" The man was starting to get angry himself, and it was only making Ooshiba more furious. "We have a job, do you even realize that? If he doesn't play well, we'll get in trouble! We're a pro soccer club, not the public welfare!"

"He does play well!" The thought that Kimishita might not be good enough for them just made Ooshiba angrier. "He plays better than your stupid pro players! He injured himself because he trained too hard, okay?"

"Then he's a hazard!" the woman cut in, and her raised voice silenced them both. "He's injured, what if he doesn't recover properly? We have to wait at least till he can play again and then..."

At least till he can play again. That meant weeks, if not months. Time they didn't have.

There was nothing. Nothing he could do. No way to help Kimishita.

A wave of guilt washed over him. Why? Why was all this happening? Why had it been Kimishita of all people? Why today? Why was he getting offered a pro contract when Kimishita needed it and couldn't get one?

He wished it had been him. He wished he'd been injured instead. It should have been him.

He didn't want this. For all his life he had dreamed of a situation like this, of playing a perfect match and being offered a contract for one of the best teams in the country. And now that he had it, he didn't want it. He didn't want to go pro without Kimishita. He didn't want to play soccer without him. He didn't want to accept this offer and feel like a stealing, backstabbing bastard.

He clenched his fists. "Then, then..." he said, his voice and whole body trembling, shaking with emotion. "Then I won't accept it! I won't play for you!"

Their eyes widened with surprise. The man was about to yell at him again, but the woman stepped in his way. "Ooshiba-kun, I understand that you feel bad about your teammate," she said annoyingly gently. "But at least think it over. Here, I'll give you my card, just notify me if you change your mind."