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You have a brother. He's strong and cool but most importantly, he's the kindest person you've ever met. Nothing else matters when he's by your side because he's your only ally in the whole world. The last boss doesn't need allies, doesn't need attachment, or affection that binds it down, but still, you need him.
The passes he gives you, the goals he scores when you assist him, the field where both of you are the only players that truly matter. Each of these are precious treasures your brother gave you when he invited you to play with him, and you cherish them, holding them close to your chest. Watching him from the other side of the fence was a mistake when you could have been playing with him from the very start.
There are lots of other things you get from him – little brother's privilege and all that. It didn't have to be a popsicle. It could've been anything, even a used handkerchief, and the joy you'd feel would be the same. What really gets your heart pumping is the small acknowledgment he loves and cares for you. Your classmates have long stopped calling their older brothers “Nii-chan” and you often hear them complain about whatever quarrel they're in the middle of, but this sounds foreign to you. You accept everything he gives you with a smile because he's the only one who understands you.
You remember your fingers tracing the letters on the back of your brand-new jersey – it smelled like the plastic wrapping you just tore open under the watchful eyes of the rest of your family. Kamakura United Youth. From that day on, it became your team and instead of lagging behind your brother, you started walking side by side, wearing the same sports uniform.
The classmates you kicked in kindergarten, the teachers who scolded you all the time, your parents who you feel like a burden on… You don't get along much with people, perhaps because they think you're a little off, and you agree with them. But your brother is a little off too, and he doesn't care, so why should you? Being weird together is more than fine because there's nothing you like more than being with him.
You have a brother. Everyone knows that. When you meet someone new, they always refer to you as his little brother, your name nothing but an afterthought. You don't mind. And can you blame them? He's the extraordinary one while you are and will always be number two. You like that. There are two of you, you're the second, and you're an invincible duo. Two sounds right.
When he gets scouted by a Spanish club, it's hard to tell who's more excited. Not a single day goes by without you thinking about it. La Liga is one of the biggest leagues in the world so it's no wonder they want your brother to play in there. He's amazing. A genius. And as his little brother, you couldn't be prouder of him. Yet that excitement doesn't stop a tiny little germ of worry from growing inside your heart. What will you do without him? You can't remember a day without seeing him, and now he'll just disappear on the other side of the world.
The objective he gives you then is one of your greatest treasures, alongside the dream of becoming the world's best together and the promise of him always being your ally. It's still a little scary but when you clasp your hands together in front of the sea, you breathe a little easier.
You have a brother. He’s far away now, way beyond your reach, but you’re still running after him – you have promised after all. You run but never get past the finish line. With each stride you take, each breath you take, it’s as if you were going backward – the direct shots you were so proud of and that he helped you make can never be replicated without him. You know it. Everyone knows it.
From the beginning, you weren’t close to any of your teammates (your brother was the same so it was alright you thought) but you thought it’d be okay. If they just did as your brother did, if they read your thoughts or observed you on the field like he did, everything would go well… But there’s no one fit to replace him. The team loses match after match, and they start sighing when they see you (and they always see you because you never miss practice, always arrive before everyone, and always leave after them), and you can’t even pretend you don’t hear what they say about you. They're not exactly wrong but what's set you off is when they deny your efforts and spout nonsense about you not measuring up to your brother. You're proud of being his little brother, but in their mouths, that title is insulting.
Every time you enter the penalty zone, your eyes find a trajectory for the next goal. All you have to do is wait for the perfect pass to score, yet nothing ever comes your way. Too slow. Not controlled enough. Directed to someone else. The angle is wrong. You click your tongue often now, a habit you picked up after so many failures. Your teammates don't understand you and never have but now that the team's anchor is gone, it's worse. Football has become a chore. Nothing goes your way even when you know what to do.
Bundled in your blanket, you push a button and the zombie's head explodes. Its dying screech echoes in your room, the sound barely reaching your ears as you move your character across the screen to kill the rest of the horde. Sometimes, it feels better to play horror games compared to movies. When you play, you can do whatever you want – even though it's the highest difficulty and the enemy is closing into you, you repress a smile. You don't need anyone to win there. Playing solo is the way to go… If only it were that easy on the field.
You have a brother. He never comes home and doesn’t contact you, but you’re always watching him. Before it was behind a fence, but now it’s behind your phone screen. Compilation videos, match highlights, news articles, hashtags on social media… No matter where he is, you're always watching him. The world recognizes his strength and with that, you can feel your objective of getting scouted like him grow distant. At your age, he was already hailed as a genius while you're struggling with scoring.
Burying your face in your pillow, you remember him. How he moves on the field. The way he could draw the utmost of the team. His unparalleled team play. Perhaps it's the answer. You can't score alone because he's not here anymore and your team can't continue because they don't have a strong core. There's no one fit to become his replacement aside from you. Because you're his little brother. His shadow warrior. Your brother was a master at manipulating the threads of the puppet on the field, and you should become one too.
As soon as you make the switch, killing your desire to score to focus on directing the players, everything starts running smoothly. Your idiotic teammates who complained about you, the coach who never tried to make the team work around you, they all sing your praises. When they call you his little brother, it's a compliment now. You should be happy. After all, isn't that your greatest pride? You've become his successor in the eyes of everyone.
Only once during these four years do you ever taste the feeling of true victory. The ball barely leaves your feet, the opponents can't stop you and your teammates are in disarray. Nobody can follow your lack of strategy. Everything crumbles around you, and it's how he should be. The last boss doesn't need anyone to hold him back when he destroys the city. There's no hero to crush in front of you but even then, your body heats up as you gear up to shoot. The goalkeeper, the last rampart against your rampage, is easily bested and you snap awake. You've missed this feeling. You can't find it again.
Playing was fun with him. It became frustrating without his presence. Now that you've replaced him, it's just boring. Restricting. Your heart doesn't beat faster, the adrenaline doesn't flow in your brain, and the fever you once felt course through your veins is nowhere to be found. Strangely enough, it feels like you're one step closer to him. He must have hated this kind of football enough to flee the country you think with the urge to do the same. Still, you persevere in your efforts. Your shared dream is worth the pain.
You have a brother. But the next time you blink, the man towering over you is nothing but a stranger, a traitor who steps on your childhood promise and dream. When you fall to your knees in the freshly fallen snow, he doesn't look back. Everything is cold, but your cheeks are warm and wet and the one person who always dries up your tears doesn't exist anymore.
You have a brother. He doesn't look at you anymore and of the few words he says, none are directed to you so you take action. None of your provocations work. The disappointment that worms into your heart is quickly replaced by something dark and sticky, a feeling that clings to your skin like melted popsicle on your hands. Deep inside your brain, something snaps. On this battlefield, you have no real allies and the hero stands in front of you, looking down on your performance. You're the last boss, the one who'll bring him down and stomp him under your spikes.
You have a brother, yes, that's true. He was once the kindest person to you, the only one you could rely on. He's the reason you're alive today and why you have a goal in life. You’ll never be his first choice.
You have a brother and perhaps that is the problem.