"Damn, that Pizza guy... he's got good control."
Apparently, it was an attack by the enemy team's leader, "Pizza" (a nickname, not his real name). With that, our team was down to four players. And the enemy still had seven. The path to victory that had begun to open was closed once again.
To make matters worse, the enemy finally launched an offensive. Three Forwards entered our court. It was an assault by one on the right and two on the left. Even if one of the three was sacrificed, the enemy team's numerical advantage wouldn't waver. In contrast, the only defender at our First Shelter was the leader. They came to take it by brute force.
At that moment, I was on my way to the First Shelter cradling a massive amount of snowballs. I ended up facing one of the enemies head-on while both my hands were occupied. 'I misjudged the situation—or rather, the enemy launched their assault at the exact moment I was approaching carelessly.'
"I got you!!"
The enemy who set his sights on me was the enemy leader called Pizza. Despite his unhealthy-looking, obese physique, he approached with agile movements. I had just seen his high throwing accuracy. He was not an opponent I could afford to underestimate based on appearances.
I immediately discarded the snowballs I was cradling. I abandoned the heavy burden, leaving only a few in my arms. Pizza's throw was closing in. I twisted my body and dodged. Then, I threw a counteracting snowball.
"Im-Impossible... I, the one hailed as 'Solo Pizza,' was defeated in a duel...!"
I got him out. Pizza collapsed. Since it was just a snowball hitting him, he shouldn't be injured, but he fell face-down and stopped moving. Still, I had to focus more on the remaining two Forwards who were attacking.
The enemy Forwards who had planned the pincer attack seemed slightly shaken, as they hadn't expected Pizza to be taken out. Seizing the gap, the leader and I threw balls at the exposed enemies. However, the enemies didn't let themselves be taken out easily and managed to escape through a swift retreat.
Pizza, who was still lying there, was dragged off the court by the enemy team's substitutes. The battle situation was reset. The referee's voice rang out.
"Thirty seconds left!"
Only then did I remember that the match time was only three minutes. Had that much time already passed? It felt like it had happened in an instant.
At this point, the enemy went on the defensive. If time ran out, the team with more remaining players would win. We had taken one person out, but it was still a 4-on-6 disadvantage. We had no choice but to attack the fortress where the enemy had solidified their rock-solid defense.
And to make things worse, there were almost no snowballs left. It was because I had broken nearly half of them. Cradling as many snowballs as I could during the fight with Pizza had been a mistake. I should have taken more appropriate actions according to the battle situation.
"At this point, we've got no choice but to go for the flag, for better or worse."
Capturing the flag results in a win regardless of the difference in numbers, but the problem was the number of obstacles that had to be overcome. The enemy team was holding the Center Shelter placed in the middle of the center line. Needless to say, the main base beyond that was also heavily guarded. Charging in like this would be nothing short of suicide.
Yet, it was also true that no other way to win remained. I had no intention of questioning the leader's decision.
"All four of us left, we're charging. The rules say only three people can be in the enemy court at once, but we won't be able to break through the Center Shelter with all four anyway, so don't worry about it."
In that case, my role would be to draw the enemy's attention as much as possible so the other players could charge more easily. I had confidence in my dodging.
"Listen, we'll suppress the Center Shelter. In that gap, you run for the flag."
But the instructions the leader gave me were the exact opposite role. At the major task being assigned for my first match, I reflexively shook my head.
"The situation's turned out like this, but I haven't given up on winning. I decided on this because I thought you could do it."
I could only move my mouth soundlessly at the leader who smiled boldly. The leader sent a hand signal to the teammates behind.
"Go! Leave the rear to us!"
The leader leapt out from the Shelter. A moment later, I also began to run.
In this match, things might have unfolded more favorably if I hadn't been here. No matter how great my reflexes were, I was nothing more than a snowball fight beginner. I broke the rules and made a series of mistakes that dragged the team down.
So, am I being driven by a sense of responsibility now? At first, that was certainly it. I thought I should work hard to make up for my mistakes. But my feelings now were a little different.
I had wondered why I was so seriously engaged in a children's game, but I think there wasn't really a grand reason for it.
I was excited.
I sprinted past the side of the Center Shelter. I started to turn my face toward it, wary of snowballs, but I stopped. I ran looking forward. Only forward.
The leader said to leave it to them. Then, I would leave the worries about my rear to him. Just as he believed in me and entrusted me with this role, I would believe in them.
Out of the six enemy team members, three were being held back by the leader and the others, but even excluding them, three were still defending the enemy territory. Furthermore, two of them were standing in front of the flag, using their bodies to block the path. Without hiding in Shelters, they intended to block my charge even if it meant a mutual elimination.
Snowballs flew from three directions. I dodged the balls flying toward me—which looked slow and left lines of afterimages like slow-motion footage—and threw back the snowballs I was cradling in one arm. The ball I fired toward the place I predicted the enemy would dodge successfully struck the opponent's body.
That was one person out. But the path to the flag wouldn't open unless I took out one more. And by throwing, an opening was created. There was no way the enemy would overlook it. I could read the trajectory of the flying ball, but my body couldn't take the next action as I wanted. Because I tried to dodge from an impossible posture, I lost my balance and rolled across the ground.
I somehow succeeded in evading. However, this time I couldn't follow up. Facing a single ball flying on a direct hit course, I judged evasion to be impossible.
'Is this where it ends?' No, I didn't want it to end. I threw the snowball I had in my hand.
If I took the enemy out in a mutual elimination here, it would bring the match to a 4-on-4 draw. That was assuming none of the leaders fighting behind me got called out. I couldn't believe they would be safe after a suicidal charge to open my path. I had no room to look back and check. Even so, it should be the best move I could make right now.
That thought was there. But the possibility I chose was a different one. The leader told me to take the flag.
The snowball I threw was not aimed at the enemy. It was fired on a trajectory that collided head-on with the ball flying toward me, and the two balls struck each other in mid-air and were neutralized.
I threw a snowball at the enemy who was standing stunned with his mouth hanging open in shock. That made two people out. Without a moment's delay, I stood up and started running. I had no more snowballs in my hands. The remaining balls had broken when I rolled earlier. All that was left was to run.
The enemy Back who was waiting at the end hurriedly jumped out of the Shelter, but it was too late. I reached the flag faster than he could block my path.
Just as I thought that, a snowball flew from behind me. The enemy Forwards, whom the leader and others had been suppressing, had finally moved to eliminate me. That meant all my other teammates had been taken out.
As expected, no matter what kind of reflexes I had, I couldn't dodge a ball coming from behind. The first shot luckily missed its mark, but I didn't think I would be saved by luck a second time. If I looked back here, I would be tagged by the Back who was closing in right beside me.
I stopped thinking. I concentrated only on running. Just being fast, staring only at the flag.
My consciousness began to go white. I threw my whole body forward and grabbed the flag as I slid. At the same time, I felt several sensations of snowballs striking my body.
Did I take the flag first, or was I hit by the balls first? Victory, or defeat? I, who had been running frantically, couldn't judge. The court was deathly silent. No one spoke. Even they didn't know which team had won. Every gaze was fixed on the referee.
Horace the referee walked toward me. He took my hand—the one holding the flag. He raised that hand high.
"WINNER!!"
UOOOOOOOOOOOOOO——!!
Cheers erupted. Everyone was jumping and making a ruckus. I could understand my victorious teammates being happy, but for some reason, even the enemies who should have lost were applauding and cheering as if it were their own victory.
"Hey! Why are you, the one who did it, so unresponsive! You made an incredible play! Aren't you happy!?"
The leader asked me in an excited tone. To be honest, my head was a mess and I couldn't organize my feelings. I didn't have the sentiment that I had done something amazing. Winning the match was good, of course, but I didn't feel the kind of joy everyone else was making a fuss about.
However, there was something I could say for sure. Everyone was so happy because of what I did. More than anything, that made me...
"Happy."
When I said that, everyone fell silent. For some reason, their reactions changed—turning red and looking away, looking down, or conversely staring intently at me. I thought I had conveyed my honest feelings with a smile, but was something strange?
"Hey, Horace. How long are you going to keep holding her hand?"
"I'm the referee."
"Does that even matter!?"
But the strange atmosphere immediately returned to normal and became noisy. I was covered in mud from rolling around spectacularly on the ground sodden with melted snow. A mud-stained bib. When I saw the number '6' written there, for the first time, I felt like I had become a member of the team.
"Alright, let's get ready for the next match right away—"
The leader called out while clapping his hands. At that moment, the sound of a bell echoed through the town. It seemed to be a bell announcing the time. Twilight was spreading over the area.
"Ah... is it that time already? We've got to clean up."
Everyone started cleaning up the court and getting ready to go home. There was nothing strange about it. Even they couldn't play here forever. They had a place to return to.
I felt a chill. The body that should have been warmed from moving around felt like it had suddenly turned cold.
"Do you want to join our club team? I'll introduce you to the coach."
"Still, I can't believe such a talent was lying dormant... I've never seen her at school, though."
They go to school. They belong to a local sports club. For children of this age, it's a given. It's... normal.
"Eh? But isn't that weird? If there were a kid like this, there's no way there wouldn't be rumors at school."
"That's true. Maybe she just moved here recently?"
"Then she's a transfer student? Where do you live?"
I couldn't answer anything. I took a step back.
"Come to think of it, I didn't even ask your name. What is it?"
'Who are you?'
"Hey, are you okay? Are you dizzy?"
A name.
I had never felt a need for such a thing. While wishing to live as a human, and while recognizing them by their names, I had never tried to think about a symbol to represent myself. Why?
"I have to go back."
I felt a shudder at the words that came out of my own mouth. Before I could think further, I turned my back and ran away as if to block those thoughts.
"Ah, hey! Tomorrow's a holiday too, and we'll be playing a match here!"
I hadn't intended to stay in this town for long from the beginning. Just stopping by, observing how humans live, playing with children—that was all it was supposed to be. It was fun. That's enough. There's no need to wish for anything more.
"You'd better come tomorrow! Number Six!"
There's no need to think about it.