Sailor Moon Fan Fiction ❯ The Moon, Mercury, and Manchester ❯ Meeting Sailor Mercury: Game On! ( Chapter 1 )

UEFA Champions League Quarterfinal 2nd Leg

Old Trafford Stadium, Manchester, England

Manchester United Vs. Real Madrid

 

Throughout my life, I've been someone who's been able to do the deeds of a lion in a cub's body. I'm Phillip Carlo Santos. I'm a North Carolinian Filipino-American teenager finishing up high school with high hopes for the future. I don't have a nickname, but if I did, I would call myself the Young Gun.

 

For all of my classroom experiences, though (which I performed well during), my most important crash course I got on doing it big at a young age came in Europe during the spring of 2003. I was only 15 years old when I burst onto the scene as a soccer prodigy who led RJ Reynolds High School in Winston-Salem to a terrific season while still maintaining what would turn out to be a Junior Marshal-like class rank. With a lot of spark but also a lot of luck, I had a terrific game against a powerful out-of-state opponent-with a scout from Manchester United there to watch.

 

Before I knew it, I, the central midfield ace with blistering speed, good endurance, a good shot, good defending ability, some nifty moves, a lot of emotion, and a terrific way of playing smart, was looking at an opportunity at a fast-forward deal with Manchester United for Champions League play. After some behind-the-scenes wrangling, they agreed that I could keep my scholastic eligibility as long as I wasn't paid-a sacrifice I was glad to make as I still absolutely leapt at the opportunity to play alongside many of my favorite players, including David Beckham, Ryan Giggs, and Paul Scholes.

 

In March, I became the youngest American to play in the UEFA Champions League, Europe's club championship, when I made a substitute appearance at Old Trafford against Basel of Switzerland when we were flagging slightly. If the first step is the most important, that first game was a sign of things to come-and didn't I love it as I notched a hat trick in just fifteen minutes. About four weeks or so later, I was back on the United bench for a much bigger game: against Real Madrid in the quarterfinals' 2nd leg at Old Trafford after Real had taken a 3-1 opener at the Santiago Bernabeu. I came in excited at playing against Ronaldo, Luis Figo, Zinedine Zidane, Roberto Carlos, and Iker Casillas, but I found myself fidgeting slightly as we found ourselves up only 4-3 in the final 10 minutes. That was until I got told to warm up.

 

Oh, my God. I thought. I'm actually going to play against Real Madrid! I was scared to death about losing and ending my terrific ride, but I was also psyched at the thought of at least having a say in the outcome.

I suspected that Coach Ferguson wanted me in there because it looked as if we would go down and therefore didn't have much to lose. I didn't know if that was his rationale, but I did know that I was going to try to give Real a run for its money.

 

I reached my spot in the dead center of our midfield as I heard the cheers over my entrance. Looking ahead, I saw Zizou heading towards me, and I quickly picked him up. Being a kid for the most part, I liked the opportunity to defend a star, and so I found myself sticking with him when he tried to shake me with swerves, jukes, and step-overs. He then tried going through my legs, but I saw it coming enough to close my feet together, trap the ball, and win it to yells of approval from the crowd, Ryan, Paul, and David.

 

Seeing an opening ahead after the steal, I kept my head down and began sprinting upfield, flashing a few moves of my own and suddenly finding myself in the clear.

Take it to the house, buddy. I thought. Come on!

After the match, people said I kicked into an even higher gear when I won that breakaway, but I wasn't aware of it-for good reason. Reaching the penalty area, I watched Casillas carefully before rounding him and tucking the ball home to bring us within a goal of victory.

That's it! I thought. Let's die hard!

Roaring with delight, I spread my arms like wings. I don't exactly imitate Ronaldo because I keep my palms down and my arms straight out, and I run straight ahead instead of weaving.

 

Eight minutes later, as stoppage time loomed, I called for the ball and outsprinted Claude Makelele into some open space as David hit me with a great through ball. I saw Ryan sprinting past Figo on the left, but I wasn't too good at passing through traffic, so I passed it back to a now-open David, who hit a great long pass to Ryan, who quickly turned towards goal. As I held my breath and the crowd roared Ryan on, he made his cut, faked out Casillas, and hit it hard and high into the top right corner.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” I screamed as I chased Ryan, who was celebrating at the left corner flag by raising his fist at us. We're in the lead! We're actually in the lead! I thought frantically.

 

Quickly, I recovered myself and began playing defense again. Figo's run against Paul, however, was to no avail as Paul stuck with him and knocked it away out of bounds. I watched breathlessly as the referee looked at his watch-and then blew his whistle twice.

 

“Yeah!” I yelled as I heard the whistle and the crowd erupted. I quickly shook hands with Zizou, who was in front of me, said a hasty but sincere “Bien joue” and went off to celebrate with my other teammates. Not two minutes had elapsed, though, before I started hearing screams from the crowd, making me start.

 

Those screams weren't of joy, but of terror.

 

What's going on? I thought. I turned and saw what everyone was screaming about-and was promptly scared stiff momentarily.

 

It looked like a large black demon with a hint of red, who was starting to roar at the crowd and us and who was shooting some fireballs into the stands, which exploded and injured a number of fans.

Part of me wanted to stay and fight, but before I could think for myself what to do, I heard Roy Keane yelling, “Off the pitch! Off the pitch, quick!”

 

Several police officers were shooting from the stands, but the monster then formed a clear red shield in the shape of a rectangular prism that blocked the bullets-but not before it flickered slightly.

“Now what?” Ruud Van Nistelrooy asked as we reached the relative safety of the dugout.

“They can't shoot at that thing forever and that shield looks strong! I don't know if it'll be enough!” Paul told him. Before he finished speaking, the gunshots stopped.

 

“Oh, no.” Ryan and I said. I had never been so distressed to hear something fall silent in my life.

 

Before we ended up plumb scared, though, David yelled, “Look!” He pointed back towards the field, and we whipped around to look. Real Madrid had already cleared the pitch.

One girl had jumped onto the field and was standing before the monster defiantly. It was an unbelievable sight-a girl standing out there as if she was planning to take the monster down herself when bullets wouldn't do the job. What's more, from our vantage point, it looked like she was speaking to the monster in a loud voice.

 

“Wow.” Ryan said breathlessly. “What's she doing?”

“Darned if I know!” I said. By now, a small number of us had stopped in the dugout to watch the scene as if spellbound.

 

I watched as the girl started to fight back. Incredible as it looked, it looked like she was performing some sort of bubble spray attack, but I couldn't tell what it was exactly. But whatever it was, it seemed to have no effect because the shield didn't even flicker and shudder. My insides plummeted, and I was suddenly seized with a desire to go out onto the pitch and help.

 

I started to move. “I'm going out there.”

David seized me with both arms around my chest and said, “You can't, Carlo! It's too dangerous! That lass out there just might turn the tables!”

I squinted and looked at the girl, who seemed to be clad mostly in white. I began thinking of a clue to who she might be, but it was something that I had heard years ago, something that seemed like a fairy tale. But whoever she was, I had made up my mind-I wasn't going to let her be taken down when she couldn't fight. I redoubled my efforts to break free from David's grasp.

 

“Look, David, I just can't let her fight alone out there against that thing!” I said, trying to tear free. With that, I gave one good wrench of my upper body, freed myself, and tore out onto the field. An intrepid fan tried to throw a soccer ball at the monster, but it was way short and landed in front of me. Struck with a sudden idea, I got to it and started dribbling it.

 

“Now I've got you!” The monster was shouting, bearing down on the girl.

“No, you don't!” I yelled, and the whole stadium seemed taken aback as I ran up towards him and fired a shot off my right foot. It curved slightly and slammed into the barrier, which shook and flickered slightly, evidently damaged. I kept running and managed to chase down the rebound. I trapped the ball with the girl to my left.

 

“If you want her, you'll have to take me, too!” I yelled. I shot again and hit, further damaging the shield.

“You're Carlo Santos, the young star, right?” The girl asked me.

“Yeah.” I said, breathing hard and chasing down the rebound again. Then I turned to look at who was speaking to me—and had my world turned upside down.

 

I forgot my fatigue as I looked at her, glanced at her sailor suit, and took a huge jolt as I finally realized who she was. Momentarily robbed of the ability to talk because of my heavy shock, I struggled to speak, and when I managed to find my voice again after a second or so, I said breathlessly,

“Hang on! Good God! Whoa! You're Sailor Mercury, aren't you?”

“Yes.” She replied, smiling, and I felt my heart quiver momentarily.

Oh, my God.” I gasped. “What're you doing in England?”

“I can't answer that right now. Carlo, I need your help to deal with this demon.”

 

Paralyzed with shock, bewilderment and happiness, I stood looking at her. Any doubts that it was her were dispelled as I looked. The gold tiara, the blue short pleated skirt, the calming but warm blue eyes, the dark blue hair-I knew it couldn't be anyone else, and yet I was pinching myself to see if I had dozed off in the dugout into some surreal dream-but I soon knew the girl I was looking at was no dream.

 

She was Sailor Mercury, of all people, the girl of whom I'd heard of as a kid when I learned through the grapevine about her, her past life, and her life with the Sailor Scouts. I was frantically thinking, Wow! I'm actually meeting Sailor Mercury-and I'm meeting her while I'm in a United uniform in the middle of Old Trafford with almost 60,000 people watching us! I almost felt embarrassed that I had my mouth open with shock in front of everybody, but now that I was actually seeing her in person, I was looking at her and all I could think was, Oh, my gosh, she's almost too beautiful. I'd heard of one person calling her the Rhapsody in Blue, and had personally accepted it as one of her titles. Judging from the heart-shaped brooch and longer-tailed ribbon, I'd say she was using her Super Sailor form, but I'll refer to her as Sailor Mercury due to personal preferences (I've never firmly grasped the idea of adding the words “Super” or “Star” to their names).

 

The monster howled in anger and released small spheres of dark energy that materialized into three walking demons-smaller, but equally menacing.

 

Sailor Mercury's eyes met mine. “Here we go. Are you ready?”

“I'm not out of here.” I replied. “Here goes nothing.”

 

I dribbled past one and dummied the other two before hammering another shot into the shield, drawing roars from the crowd. The enemy barrier was visibly shaking now. Two more demons materialized to make the count five, and it kept building slowly as time went on. I tried going past them while Sailor Mercury froze them with her Shine Aqua Illusion to level the scales, but she couldn't keep them locked up forever, and we were kept busy.

 

Suddenly, I heard David yelling, “Carlo, over here!”

I backheeled and was answered with a loud thump as David drove a curving shot over the demons' heads into the shield. The crowd cheered, brought to its senses again.

“We decided to lend a hand-we can't have you two out there against this growing force.” David said, looking at the enemy apprehensively. Ryan and Roy had come by now, followed by Paul and Ruud.

Sailor Mercury gasped. “Hey, aren't you David Beckham?”

“That's me.” David said. “And who might you be, miss?”

“She's a friend, David.” I said. “Questions later—we've got a nut to take down!”

“Hang on, we need to collect ourselves first!” Sailor Mercury yelled. “Mercury Ice Bubbles Freeze!” She shouted again, turning to the demon and his cohorts again. We watched amazed as we saw the fog envelop them before it dispersed to reveal them frozen solid.

 

“Everybody in.” She said, turning to us. “Come on, quick!” With that, we all huddled up.

Sailor Mercury pulled us all together. Right then and there, I felt-and I think we all felt-a soothing, gentle presence that she gave off. Our black-trimmed red and white uniforms stood out in sharp contrast to her blue and white sailor suit as we leaned in. That huddle was a place of peace and calmness amidst the chaos and terror that we were confronting.

It was at this time that I started getting that uncanny feeling that you get when you know you're going places. I was thinking, We're going to win. I know we're going to win-she's not going to let us lose. It was as if we were looking at her as if saying, “What now?” only to have her look back at us as if replying, “We're going to be okay.”

 

“That should hold them for a while, but we still have to think fast or we won't make it.” She said, looking at me. “We need to put our heads together. There's one thing we know already-that shield deflects any of my direct attacks, so I'll just provide support against those demons.”

“Okay.” I said. Throughout most of the conversation, I acted as the United spokesman, with David, Roy, and the others too shocked to speak. “How do you want us to play out?”

Sailor Mercury put her white-gloved hand to her mouth in thought, and then looked at me intently. “Do what you think is best-you've worked with these men more than I have. I've got a lot of confidence in you since you've got a lot of star power. I'll help on those smaller demons so you'll get in some open shots.”

“Okay, Sailor Mercury.” I said. “Once that shield goes down, that nutcase's yours for the taking.” I turned to the rest. “Guys, remember, in this game, power really counts, so try to shoot hard instead of just sliding it past them, okay?”

“Yeah!” My teammates all shouted, coming to their senses.

Sailor Mercury added to the growing emotion with a tirade. “Let's give it all we've got! Becks, Paul, Carlo, and the rest of you, let's give it all we've got! This isn't your average knockout match. If we lose to this monster, there's no tomorrow-possibly not ever!”

“Not if we can help it!” I yelled, ready for action despite the hard game.

“Aye, not if we have anything to say!” Ryan roared. “If you and Carlo can give that thing a hard time, we can crush him!” The team cheered.

Sailor Mercury asked, “Sounds great! Do you want to start with a cheer, Becks?”

“Absolutely.” David said. “Carlo?”

“With pleasure, David.” I said, grinning. “Everybody in, fellas.” When I had come to United, I had brought the American tradition of the huddle and cheer with me.

We all put our hands into the center. Ruud put his hands on top, but then Sailor Mercury put hers on top, and I saw him look at Sailor Mercury and blush slightly. I relaxed at the sight alone and said, “Oh, boy.” And then I let out the yell, “Okay, guys, United on three. One, two, three!”

“United!” we all shouted (even Sailor Mercury did so), and we broke the huddle. The crowd went wild-ever since I had driven that first goal into the shield, they hadn't left their seats. One fan shouted, “This is going to be the biggest battle ever-Sailor Mercury & United against a Negaverse side!”

 

Some of us clapped our hands over our heads. We lined up (from left to right) with Ryan (left, slightly advanced), me (straight in the center), and David (right) in midfield, Sailor Mercury behind us, Roy in slightly defensive midfield, Paul in advanced midfield by a foot or so, and Ruud as our striker.

The energy of the moment surged through me like nobody's business. As my spirit surged, eager for battle, I forgot every trace of fear. Personally, I think that's anger's only good use-to destroy fear and doubt and to invigorate.

 

Suddenly, the ice shattered, and the defenders began rushing towards us. We began charging upfield, and I passed to David, who drilled home another curving shot for another goal.

One demon shoved Ruud hard in the back, knocking him over.

“You won't get away with that!” Sailor Mercury shouted. “Shine Aqua Illusion!”

Everybody suddenly halted as we watched her twirl gracefully around before hurling the mass of water at Ruud's attacker. The demon froze and then broke into nothingness once the ice shattered.

“Red card.” Sailor Mercury said with a hint of contempt at the spot where the demon had once been.

“Thanks.” Ruud said. “Come on, let's go!”

“Go for the corners on the shield!” Sailor Mercury yelled at us. “That's its weak point!”

“Right up our alley!” I yelled, and was off again down the field.

 

The crowd roared as we piled on the goals, including David's ferocious long-range shots, Roy's, Paul's, and Ruud's thunderous headers and volleys, and dashing strikes from Ryan and me, featuring hard runs, step-overs, dummies, rainbows, hurdles, and juggles-to-volleys that left defenders sprawling. The enemy defenders were no set-ups: they performed hard tackles and shoves (or so they tried), offside traps (so that the monster could have a clear shot at us), and hard-marking man-to-man, but we were able to cope-in no small part because Sailor Mercury was doing one darn good coaching job, yelling things at us like "Watch the offside trap!" and "Your forward's got his defender beat!" The shield even fluctuated its weak point from the corners to the center and back again a few times, and that was another area where Sailor Mercury was a real lifesaver, informing us when that took place. Sometimes, the defenders would try to steal it and make runs at Sailor Mercury to deal damage, but Roy often provided crunching tackles that stopped them cold. Occasionally, to our surprise, Sailor Mercury even called for the ball and drilled pinpoint crosses up front for Paul, Ruud, and whoever else was up front, and sometimes even scored from curling shots worthy of Zizou or Roberto Carlos.

And as she whittled down the force of enemy defenders that was beginning to slowly regenerate, we began to flash our most stylish plays as though it was simply another game, as the crowd grew louder and louder-and I ought to add that they were brave for their part because of their sticking around.

 

After ten minutes of blitzing our opponents, Ryan ran the ball up the left side, put up a cross headed about seven feet away from the monster's front, and Sailor Mercury, to everyone's surprise, made a run forward.

“Oy, what's she doing?” Paul yelled.

“I don't know!” I shouted back.

As it turned out, as Ryan's cross passed in front of the monster, Sailor Mercury jumped and launched an amazing right-footed thunderous bicycle kick that slammed into the shield dead-center and shattered it.

 

No darn way! I thought. Before I could ponder where it ranked among goals that I had seen, however, the monster suddenly began firing beams out of his feet.

 

We were driven back, but Sailor Mercury came to our rescue once again.

“Let's see if you can shoot blindfolded!” She yelled. “Mercury Bubbles!”

The resulting fog served to throw off the youma's accuracy.

In the fog that resulted, we huddled together again.

“Go for those feet quickly!” Sailor Mercury said, activating her visor and looking into the mass of fog as we watched her, amazed. “They can shoot well, but their defense is weak, now that the shield's gone!”

“Got it!” I yelled. “Ryan! Watch for one down the left!”

Ryan began running down the left side while I passed to David and he attacked the right flank. The fog was still lingering, but we had a good idea of where the feet where. Finally, he flashed a screaming cross off his right foot that rose in the air slightly before it met Ryan's diving header, ending up disabling the left foot. Paul chased down the rebound, backheeled to David, and a smooth, perfectly placed 15-yard chip over a defender put the right foot out of commission.

“The git's yours!” Roy yelled as we stepped back. “Nice shooting, Becks!”

 

Sailor Mercury stepped forward with a flashing glint in her eyes and an audible spark in her voice as she turned off and stowed her visor. Roy trapped the ball and yelled, “Stand down, lads, this isn't our fight anymore!” That, however, was very likely unnecessary.

Such was the aura of power that she now gave off that all of us, even Roy, stepped back a pace or so. “This will teach you not to attack helpless people anywhere! Mercury Aqua Rhapsody!”

We stood transfixed as Roy kept the ball trapped while Sailor Mercury formed her aquatic harp and began strumming it, sending missile after watery missile at the enemy and his defenders. They didn't stand a chance once she had that sort of a shot at them. The demon leader vanished in a column of white light with a scream, taking his thugs with him in the blast.

 

The crowd simply went nuts. We all started cheering ourselves, and Sailor Mercury had the brightest smile on her face and her hands in the air as Old Trafford erupted into joyful yells, chants, and roars.

David Beckham, still roaring, then ran at Sailor Mercury, dove on her, and tackled her to the ground, while hugging her madly as if the Mercury Aqua Rhapsody had been a Golden Goal for England in the World Cup final-and the rest of us followed. The normally shy Paul Scholes, beaming broadly, jostled his way past David and kissed Sailor Mercury on the cheek in the state of frenzied joy that was infecting the whole stadium. All seven of us were yelling and shouting joyously, and then our bench began to flood out onto the field.

As the tangled mass of celebrating bodies shifted and was joined by our other teammates, I found myself trapped beneath Nicky Butt, David, and Ryan. It was even more of a curious predicament because on top of that, Sailor Mercury was floored underneath me to the Old Trafford grass. As a result, our noses were only about an inch apart, and I found myself looking her right in the face.

 

“You did it, miss!” David screamed. “You got the bloke!”

“Whoo!” I yelled. “That did it, ladies and gentlemen!”

Sailor Mercury smiled broadly at me, and I grinned back, now starting to quiver inside. “That performance deserves a man-of-the-match award.” She said fervently.

“Gee, thanks.” I said, turning red. “Make no mistake, we all walked away as winners from this one. Okay, everyone, get off, I'm getting crushed here!”

The pile dispersed, and we all stood. Quite a few of us were still grinning, and many began to walk toward the dressing room. I found myself alone in the center circle with Sailor Mercury.

 

“I definitely think so, too.” She said. Then she went slightly closer, and I resisted the urge to back away for fear that I would totally collapse in her presence.

She said quietly, “First, do you know who I am? Who I am other than me, that's what I mean.”

“Sort of, I guess.” I said. “What is it?”

“Well, as a princess, I'm not exempt from recognizing achievements in sports on my home planet, so I'd like to give you this.”

She waved her transformation wand, and an armband appeared out of nowhere.

“This is an award that I give to those who distinguish themselves athletically. It changes depending on the recipient's exploits.”

The armband was two small silver rings linked in the center (lengthwise) with a sapphire disc that featured a white Mercury sign on it. On either side of the sapphire were flat silver soccer balls, with what looked like open books resting beneath them.

“This is the Student-Athlete Honor Award from the Kingdom of Mercury.” She said. “I usually reserve this for banquets and special occasions like that, but this goes above and beyond the call of duty, as they say in America. In light of that, I'm decorating you here and now-for tonight's events as well as what's on your record.”

“Wow.” I said. By now, I had forgotten that I was standing on the pitch at Old Trafford in Manchester after the fight.

“It's funny, but I really felt like I saw myself in you tonight-a good strategist who has a bigger asset in intelligence rather than with skill. Because of your mind, that is, your knowledge of this game's fundamentals coupled with your imagination, you're able to outperform those who are more talented but less smart. That armband will not be just an award, but a reminder. Use your strengths, use your head, put your efforts where they will work best, and you'll be a winner.”

I took the advice to heart and slipped the armband onto my left upper arm.

“I guess no one knows that better than you, huh?” I asked.

“Yeah. I don't mean to brag, but I've been there.” She answered, her tone lightening as she grinned slightly.

“Well, I'll try my best. Thank you.”

She replied, “You're welcome. How about going into the locker room? I need to speak with the others. I've got a feeling we haven't seen the last of the Negaverse in England.”

 

In the next chapter—"Locker Room Revelations":

How will United react when Amy reveals just who she is? And which other Sailor Scout is in Europe?