Campione 03

by Tale of the Beginning

The bartender who greeted him was a twenty-something-year-old youth. Godou felt a little relieved, for no matter what country, the likelihood of someone being competent in English was highest amongst the younger generation... Of course, there were also many exceptions.

  Godou used his broken Italian, aided by appropriate English to converse.

  It was exceedingly simple to order a cup of Espresso, but ordering food was very difficult, because even if you looked at the menu, it was impossible to imagine what the food looked like.

  Godou looked towards those elderly men, and pointed to the Italian panini sandwich one of them was eating.

  Give me the same thing—that was how he ordered. The friendly Italian youth only repeated the words 'OK' throughout the entire process.

  Godou poured two packets of sugar into the fresh coffee.

  This was because he once heard that pouring a large amount of sugar was the Italian way. The rich and sweet flavor was quite agreeable after all.

  As he pondered over this ordinary taste, Godou was shocked as he bit into the panini.

  In between the two pieces of bread were prosciutto ham, cheese, as well as a kind of lettuce called rucola. However, the bread, the ham and the cheese were all particularly rich in flavor. This was absolutely delicious!

  After he finished, Godou thanked the youth, settled his bill and left the coffee shop.

  Then Godou began taking a casual walk around town.

  Sometimes he would take out the map and ask passersby for directions.

  In Japan, European and American tourists were unafraid of asking the locals for directions, so Godou decided to imitate them. He tried to ask those who looked leisurely, so as to minimize the chances of hindering someone.

  Even though the local language wasn't English, communicating through gestures on the map was enough for Godou to understand other people. Wanting to see the ocean, Godou walked towards Cagliari bay.

  Hanging throughout the narrow streets were fresh laundry.

  Seeing these peaceful scenes, Godou's mood was very relaxed as he reached a giant church—the plaza of a Duomo cathedral. He took a short stroll there, and then left the beautiful plaza.

  Starting from there, he could see Cagliari bay.

  Looking into the distance, the sea stretched from one end of the horizon to another, beautiful as an emerald. This kind of beautiful ocean was impossible to see in Tokyo, and Godou felt his heart getting excited and his footsteps quickened.

  Walking down a street called Via Roma, he hurried towards the sea.

  Part 2

  It was while Godou was taking a stroll along the sea side when he encountered the youth.

  A youth was leaning against the wall of a building that resembled a warehouse, looking towards the ocean that he faced.

  He gave off a strangely wonderful feeling.

  It would be rude to call his attire unkempt, but that was the impression given by his coat. What was probably once a white coat, was now a dirty brown in color. The clothing itself was a bit tattered. Rather than something one would wear on this street on the sea side, it was more like something you'd find at a desert oasis.

  Without any doubt, he was about the same age as Godou.

  Around fourteen or fifteen years in age, with jet black hair to his shoulders, skin the color of ivory, and most important of all, he was extremely handsome.

  Godou could not help but feel drawn to him. There was a kind of androgyny to his facial features, and even among celebrities, Godou has never seen a handsome youth like the one before him.

  —Suddenly, the youth's gaze began to shift.

  As if noticing Godou staring at him, he also looked straight back.

  And then he smiled.

  It was very common for Europeans and Americans to greet others with a smile the first time they meet someone and exchange glances, so Godou presumed the youth was saying hello to him.

  "xxxx, xx, xxxxxx... xxxxxx."

  He was using a language Godou had never heard before.

  It shouldn't be English, but Godou did not have the confidence to be certain of that. Though Italian was easily understood once the vowels were emphasized, but there were many sounds which were difficult for Japanese ears to discern.

  "I'm sorry, I can't understand what you are saying."

  Hence Godou could only use Japanese, shrugging his shoulders in response.

  In the situation of communicating as a foreigner, if gestures and facial expressions failed to communicate, then it was better to give up.

  "Oh, my apologies, then I shall use thy way of speaking."

  Suddenly, he was answering Godou with fluent Japanese.

  Godou was speechless but could only stare at the youth's face.

  "Well, hardly of significance, but a strange taste—no, dare I say smell—hangeth around thee, catching my attention, thus I spoke to thee."

  The youth's voice was slightly lower than a tenor and was probably in the baritone range.

  "A taste... I don't think I'm that dirty, does it smell bad?"

  "Payest no heed to it, I assume I have made a fool of myself, to have asked such a strange question."

  The youth spoke openly as he watched Godou checking himself out.

  To ask such an embarrassing question right from the start, but then the youth did not seem to be malicious. Those words could have angered the other person, but somehow the youth did not cause a sense of displeasure, was it a question of character?

  "Boy, acceptest mine apology for my misspoken words. Pray forgivest me, I mean thee no offense."

  The youth smiled lightly.

  His narrow eyes became even more so, and his lips curved.

  A very classical smile. Rather it should be described as a smile as subtle as mist.

  "You really don't sound like you're apologizing, and why are you calling me 'boy'?"

  His features were very handsome, but his tone was rather arrogant, and felt like a superior talking to someone beneath his station. He was clearly about the same age, but he was calling me 'boy.'

  Godou felt incredulous at this sense of imbalance.

  Clearly he could speak Japanese fluently. Was it possible that his Japanese usage was not learned through regular methods?

  "Though I think it's amazing how well you can speak Japanese, your usage is a little bit strange."

  "Worriest not these little things. As long as communication is accomplished by speaking, it is agreeable."

  He replied with a calm tone.

  The strange youth's explanation made Godou smile wryly, but Godou was extremely concerned about his irregular Japanese.

  "So, did you learn Japanese from watching stuff like dramas in ancient settings?"

  "Never have I heard of that. This language, when was the time I learned it? No matter, it is of no consequence, as long as we can communicate."

  "Then what is your name? My name is Kusanagi Godou. I think you already know, but I'm from Japan."

  "Of course I remember, my name, my birthplace... Eh, what is it?"

  The youth spoke very casually.

  But to this sudden unexpected answer, Godou was speechless.

  "...Umm, may I ask, was your amnesia just now a joke?"

  "Of course it is amnesia. Correct, I have lost all memories of the past. A troublesome condition, and most vexing."

  Though Godou still felt the youth was joking, he still made a suggestion.

  "If you really lost your memory, let me accompany you to the police or a hospital."

  "Unnecessary, though I have neither knowledge of my name nor origin, there is no immediate problem. All I need to know is the most important thing about myself."

  "The most important thing?"

  This was a strange person. Confirming this in his heart, Godou continued to question.

  Whether or not he was speaking the truth all along, this youth definitely counted as a 'super' strange person. How expected of foreign lands, with vastly increased chances of meeting weirdos.
r />   "Yes, I am the victor. Victory is always in my hands. That is my nature. Facing any kind of conflict or enemy, unchangeable and unshakeable is my victory."

  "...Really."

  This extremely arrogant declaration was uttered from the youth's mouth calmly and simply.

  This guy's speech is completely unpredictable. Though Godou was slightly taken aback, he also felt a little impressed.

  "It is true, I have long sought the taste of defeat for all this time, but none hath ever prevailed against me. By the way, whenever I start fighting I lose myself, and cannot avoid getting all serious..."

  Sighing as he gazed into the distance, the youth suddenly made a suggestion to Godou:

  "How about it? Art thou interested in competing against me? Canst thou amuse me for a while?"

  "Anything, as long as thou art good at it. Games, martial arts, a battle of wits, horse riding, anything. By the way, this place seemeth to be near Greece, I remember that country hath a kind of competition that made use of the entire body, rather interesting. Dost thou have something thou art good at?"

  Issued a challenge like that, of course one couldn't back down.

  And so Godou and the youth began to search for a place that could be used for them to compete.

  Walking near the port, the two of them soon reached a corner of an empty field. Gathered there were about ten-odd youngsters who worked at the pier. They were playing street football, probably during a break or after work.

  This was probably their playground.

  Fishing nets were hung everywhere, and seemed to be used as football goals.

  Right now there were two nets in use, and two teams were competing. At one of the temporary goals, Godou found a set of rather familiar equipment.

  A baseball and a metal bat, as well as several baseball gloves.

  "...Come to think of it, professional baseball also exists in Italy."

  Recalling this, Godou began to mutter to himself.

  Compared to the overwhelming popularity of football, baseball was like a flickering candle in the wind. The level of professionals was also rather dismal, but at least the sport existed.

  "Oh, thy talent lieth yonder, I look forward to it."

  "Ah, no, that's..."

  Taking notice, the youth walked towards the equipment.

  Though for an instant Godou wanted to stop him, but he quickly gave up. After all what was to follow was a low level competition. It was unlikely to worsen the condition of his shoulder.

  During this time, the youth had already started conversing with the group of youngsters in fluent Italian.

  Probably negotiating with the youngsters to borrow the equipment. Not long after, the youth made a thumbs-up sign and smiled. Negotiation successful.

  "Good, preparations are complete. Pray tellest me, how is this played?"

  "Oh, one side pitches the ball while the other strikes it with the bat."

  Catching the ball thrown by the youth, Godou explained.

  ...This feeling from so many months ago.

  Godou looked at the baseball clutched in his right hand.

  The powerful shoulder which denied base stealing even from relatively formidable runners... Godou had already lost it.

  "...Yes, it appeareth thou art more suited for this side."

  Watching the hesitating Godou, the youth tossed the bat over.

  "It is fine to sigh over an old injury, but treatest it not as a mark of shame. Getting injured is a natural part of the warrior's path. Only those who doth not fight remaineth uninjured. This is proof of thy past battles. "

  How does this guy know about my injury?

  Godou stared at the youth's face, shocked, but his opponent was not showing any pity in his expression.

  Pity... Faced with a constant barrage these past few months, all he could do was act troubled and thankful with a superficial response like 'what a disaster...' It felt terrible, but somehow this youth did not make him feel that way.

  Those extremely cool eyes carried an intense sense of pride.

  What kind of person would have eyes like those?

  Solemn and majestic. This was a warrior—as described by the youth himself.

  "Hoho, actest not surprised. I am the one embodying battle and victory. As long as thou hast obtained results through battle, be they good or bad, I can discern it. Boy, there exist warriors who continueth fighting in spite of wounds or over exhaustion. There was once this person who judged it time to throw down their weapon, but that fellow choseth not to run. A true warrior."

  The youth smiled, but not in the faint and distant manner just now, but rather grotesquely. It was the first time for Godou to see such a smile.

  Silently he accepted the bat. Who is going to lose to you? For some reason, his heart kept repeating that line.

  "Excellent! Good boy, good warrior! Quick, makest haste and beginest the match!"

  Once again, he returned to a child-like demeanor.

  It was also the first time for Godou to meet an opponent who went through so many facial expressions so quickly.

  Godou gradually began to take an interest in him.

  "OK, then I will hit the balls you pitch. If the ball is thrown somewhere beyond my reach it's invalid. If I swing the bat and either miss or hit a ball rolling on the ground, then I lose for that pitch. How's that?"

  "Soundeth disadvantageous for you, wilt thou be fine? I am very strong."

  The two gazed at each other and smiled happily.

  Who would have predicted one day I would pick up a baseball bat again in this foreign land?

  The unexpected match gradually made Godou excited.

  Part 3

  The result of the match was very surprising.

  Godou was able to hit the first few balls and was winning in the beginning, but he began to lose, all the way to the end.

  The youth was throwing the white ball with a very sloppy posture.

  However, the balls flew hard and fast. In terms of control, their trajectories could also be described as no less than perfect.

  Even amongst those of Godou's generation, no other pitcher could throw such balls. Middle school's Miura who greatly surpassed Godou in natural talent, as well as the monstrous pitchers he met on trips to Korea and Taiwan, none of them were able to hold a candle to this youth on the island of Sardinia.

  His height not quite 170cm, the youth also had a very slim build.

  However, the strength of his pitches cannot be matched.

  "Are you sure you've never played baseball before?"

  "Yes, today is the first time, and it seemeth rather amusing."

  With over thirty balls pitched, the vast majority ended in missed swings.

  The youth's pitching posture was without a doubt improvised, and he did not appear to have any prior training. However, his actions looked so natural.

  Clearly so random, but his motions were very elegant, and the result were straight fastballs with substantial power.

  After the bat missed, the balls continued with momentum that seemed as if it would break the fishing net.

  "Damn it, it's no good, can we have a break? Let me come up with a strategy."

  Beginning to pant, Godou asked for a time out.

  Genius? Was this what one called a real genius? No, Godou felt it wasn't. The youth before him who claimed amnesia was not someone who could be described so easily with a simple noun—there was a feeling of something out of the ordinary here.

  But no matter how fast the balls flew, they weren't completely impossible to hit.

  The first step is to get the eyes used to that level of speed. That said, even when he was the fourth hitter, Godou was unable to hit straight fastballs thrown with such power. What should he do?

  "Hohoho, panickest not. I am the one who is strongest and defeats all opponents. I merely wish to have a good battle, so please takest as much time to think as thou needst."

  Clearly words of such arrogance, but Godou could not find a retort.


  In addition, the youth looked as if he wasn't even trying—Godou could not accept losing like this, he must find a way to turn things around!

  ...Though the nearby youngsters were playing football some distance away, the youth's pitches were too amazing, and very soon, all of them had gathered beside him to watch.

  Seeing Godou taking a break, they slowly surrounded him.

  And then the youngsters of Cagliari also took part in the competition.

  Still, no one could beat the youth. Let alone scoring a good hit, even touching the ball was impossible for them.

  "Who the heck was that guy...? If someone described him as inhuman, it's believable."

  After pitching over a hundred powerful fastballs, the youth's breathing remained regular.

  Neither did the power of control of the pitches waver.

  Watching the youth defeat the local youngsters so easily, Godou was very shocked.

  Soon after, it looked like they were preparing to play football. The Italian young men put their arms around Godou and the youth's shoulders and walked towards the football.

  "Hey, could you ask them a question for me. Is this OK for them not to go to work? It looks like they are playing too much."

  "Freteth not such minor matters... This couldeth be their way of doing things, is there not a saying 'do as the Romans do'? Thou goest and enjoyest thyself."

  Seeing Godou worry, the youth smiled candidly.

  "Fine, whatever." Feeling that brisk Latin atmosphere, Godou gave up on the answer.

  Perhaps it was because he had grown accustomed to the ridiculous personalities of his grandfather and mother, as well as the influence of their friends. Though Godou thought himself to have a very serious character, he found himself possessing rather generous tolerance to meeting such a frivolous and strange character.

  If so, just do as the youth suggests and don't over think things, go have fun without worry.

  Wearing either t-shirts or vests, the Italian young men were most likely laborers. In other words, the majority of them were strongly built with arms, heads and backs akin to the statue of David. For an instant, Godou felt intimidated but he immediately got used to it.

  Godou and the youth joined the same team, and started playing street football.

  Even in football, no one could defeat the youth.