Chapter Text
High up in the heavens from where the dawn came, the great statue of an ancient god lay only as a pair of sandals with a thousand crosses at its feet, ones for those who were gone and the rest for those who lost faith.
Far below from where the mighty statue once protected the country was a favela, one of the many all over Rio. Favelas are cities within cities, houses stacked and built on top of each other and the hill. They work on their own, they live on their own, if it weren’t for the police officers they would not even be considered part of the country. Despite their poor state that the government has long left forgotten, even within Favelas there are hierarchies and at the bottom of it all is dos mortos.
The slum of the dead.
If you live higher up you’ll at least have beds, full houses made of bricks, cinder blocks and sheet metal for walls and roofs. In dos mortos though, the only place to rest is in a grave stone. The water is a dark brown like clay and often times has the same consistency as it, food is whatever scrap you can find in the trash cans of the rich man’s city to the west, although you have a long, long walk ahead of you if you wish to even get a chance at a chicken bone and you best hope you don’t end up in the wrong end of someone’s aims while you get there.
Here in dos mortos, where the people are but skeletons wearing human skin and zombified men, women, boys and girls whose brain has rotted away from smoking so much of the black one. Here, two of the living are gently observing, searching for a single soul whose legend has reached their ears.
One is a tall, muscular man with slanted eyes and a dark skin not too different from the living corpses around him. He has a medium length lion’s mane of black curls and two big bulging arms filled with muscles and the black of a hundred tattoos. He’s a local wearing the unofficial city’s favelado uniform, big green flip flops, the beaten blue of the national team’s shorts and his big, dark naked torso out and proud.
-It’s all bullshit, I tell you if someone like that existed I would know- He turned to his friend as she observed at the wasted and forgotten lives around her. -They chose this for themselves, just let the poor idiots die in pea-
-You are awful…- She had to bite deep into her lips to not cry. She’d seen her fair share of corpses but still, it never got any easier. -Let’s keep look…I believe it…I saw him on the socials-
If it weren’t for his slanted eyes, there’d be no difference between him and the rest, she stuck out like a sore thumb though. She was pasty white a little burnt by the sun, with a particularly large nose shaped a little like a faucet, and two large front teeth like a bunny’s own, a thin ear length hair in pure gold separated in two cascades down the middle of her head, all held by a tiny black headband. Her looks where already enough to be known as a tourist, but what truly settled it was her choice of wear in a big black suit in the middle of the blazing heat.
-I have to find him, otherwise how can I show face to team. This all would be no better than vacation to beach-
-You think too much Luka.- Her friend patted her back. -Come on, just give it up and we’ll drown our sorrow with a good drink.-
Luka looked back at the people, knowing and feeling her true helplessness now more than ever. She turned around with a heavy heart and began to walk the broken streets up to the better Favelas. She knew it was true, somehow that man existed. He played like no other, it was something so unique she could only call magic. She came in search for the wizard and yet she only found further pain.
As they walked up they came upon a single, broken mural with legends whom the world had forgotten the name of and time had erased the faces. She saw a single, weird hair like a black triangle, a smile as wide as the sun, a white headband with a forgotten message, a hand held up high lifted by his teammates and two arms, both with white sports tape over their wrist, one heavily tattooed as a tongued mocked his critics. Luka opened her mouth to speak but the answer was obvious, he didn’t know either, nobody did. -You’ll be joining us, correct?-
-Yep.- Her friend nodded as they left behind the ancient legends. -Nobody but you has made an offer.-
He grinned widely as he put both his fist to his hip. -You don’t need any wonder kid when you have the god of football on your side!- He laughed out loud for the whole world to listen.
In a split second, Luka and him felt a hand graze their butts and when they turned to see they just heard the running of sandals and a shadow disappear over the corner. Without questioning it both ran after, carefully following the slippers until they saw a boy’s brown back leaping from roof to roof. He smiled back at them, running on and on, jumping and leaping over long distances thinking they would be able to match him. Much was his surprise when Luka leaped high and covered half the distance as she landed. She set her sights on him but the boy was faster, way faster. Still, she gave chase, hearing her shoes squeaking against the thin sheet metal of the favela homes. All carefully ran from roof to roof, leaping and avoiding the long clothing lines and high voltages cables around the slums. The boy continued to run on and on until he found himself nearing the very top of all the favelas, with only one option left and knowing he’d scored big he ran toward the city. With a leap of faith, he moved through the woods, carefully dodging and running until he reached a slope and slid down it. His sandals flew far away from him but it didn’t matter, with the money he felt on both wallets he knew he could get far away from dos mortos, one last big hit and then his life would truly begin.
At the end of the slope he was in the back of a building, seeing his pursuers behind he entered without a second thought. He was met with an office building and the many workers of it, dodging past all of them and even the security guards at the front where he met the big, white buildings of the big city. He stood in awe for a second until he heard the loading of a weapon, at which point he ran on, dodging and leaping over passing cars while they suddenly braked to not kill him. He looked at his struggling pursuers be left behind in the road and laughed to himself. He turned just in time to spot the black and white of the police cruiser and the door swing open in his face. He spun out and landed on the cold street, blacking out.
He slowly opened his eyes to see four loaded shotguns all pointed at his face as a crowd slowly formed around him.
The police shouted loud, unintelligible words clouded by ignorance and hatred.
The boy froze up as he saw his fellow countrymen, all willing to end his life over a simple wallet. From his forehead he bled red that mixed with his dead cold sweat.
They all continued to shout loud, inching the guns closer. All they needed was enough time and a good excuse to put an end to another street rat, their trigger fingers being his only lifeline and executioner. As the cold steel breathed down his neck, the boy finally curled himself up fully, praying for a guardian angel.
Silence fell as he felt a warm body covering his own.
-Back off!- Luka shouted as she kept the boy behind her. -Don’t you dare shoot! This is my son!- She gently patted his body.
The people around them started to pull out their phones and point them at the cops. Everyone there recognized Luka, she wasn’t just a normal tourist after a
The cops slowly lowered their guns as they stared at Luka continue to keep the boy behind her.
-Miss….that kid, your son?- One cop asked in his highly broken English.
-Yes, he is my son.- Luka nodded and turned to smile at the boy. She pointed at her friend. -Explain please…I don’t speak good Portuguese.-
-Alright…- The man stood giant before all, speaking down at the cops with no sense of fear, like a God to ants. It wasn’t long until the armed men were receding into themselves.
The cop swallowed deeply and gestured to the rest of his squad. -Sorry for…disturb…uh…Miss Dragovic…- They turned around and slowly got back into their cruiser, leaving the scene behind as if nothing had happened.
While her friend shooed away the onlookers, Luka turned to meet the boy.
He wasn’t as young as she’d imagined, perhaps seventeen or eighteen. He was just around her height if not a little smaller with a light brown skin and small dirty curls all over his head like a messy storm. He was a brown skeleton, severely malnourished, his skin so dehydrated it receded and stuck to the bone, on his little dark eyes was the fear of death. Luka gently wrapped her arms around him, making his blood fill her white shirt as she softly whispered into his ear.
-It’s okay now, the bad cops are gone…- She smiled and instinctively reached to kiss his forehead. -Oh…sorry…you must be-
The boy pushed her off. He pulled out her wallet and handed it to her alongside the man’s. Luka took out her ID, credit card and debit card. She looked at the boy as he sat down on the streets, feeling death closer than ever and she gave him her wallet filled with money. -Here, it’s yours- The boy looked up at her and shook his head, fighting off tears. Luka smiled and patted his head. -Fine, you speak English, boy?-
He nodded gently. -Little bit…-
-I need help, do you know where “Sozinho” lives?- She smiled down at him as he fell silent. Luka sighed in disappointment as the boy just looked up at her in shock. -That’s okay, thanks for your he-
-I am…Sozinho….- He looked up at her. -How…can I help?-
Luka smiled wide and turned to her friend who observed the demarcated boy from afar. -Really? That shrimp? You came here for that favelado?-
-How old you are boy?- Luka patted his shoulders and smiled. -I have proposal.-
-Eighteen…- Sozinho looked up at her curiously. -What…do you want?-
-Play for us, play for Madrid- She smiled wide. -You are last hope-
-I don’t understand….what is Madrid?- Sozinho carefully stood up as his forehead continued to bleed.
Luka flicked her suit jacket off and quickly ripped her shirt’s entire left arm, tying it gently around the boy’s forehead. She extended her hand toward him.
-Come, first we heal- Sozinho took her hand and slowly followed after her. The Croatian was barely taller than him but in his eyes she looked as tall as a mountain and as wide as the sea, most important of all in their joined hands he felt a strange warmth he’d never felt before. The boy found himself inching closer and closer to the woman’s quickly moving body until he was leaning his head against her.
Luka noticed it but she had no protest, she just smiled to herself and continued on her way not to a hospital or a clinic but to a football field. She walked in and crossed the field as if she owned the place, behind the small stands heading to a smaller building where the locker rooms laid. She burst through with a gentle kick where she met eyes with an older woman.
A hair as black as night, eyes in a deep purple and made of spirals, skin pale like snow and with a long trench coat of darkness like a cowl. She stood up and slowly walked up to the boy as he embraced Luka. Her hand reached out to him, turning to an inky black substance that slowly felt the boy’s skin.
Sozinho opened his eyes to the alien sight which made him fall to his butt and go pale. Luka chuckled a little and patted the woman’s back.
-Sozi, don’t worry this is coach Francisca….she’s not human- Luka helped the boy back up and laughed as if it was nothing. -Coach is something called…shadow person….I don’t know much about it either-
-What an awful woman Luka, after all I’ve told you about our people and you go on to forget it.- Francisca dejectedly sat on the bench, little red tears escaping from her eyes. -And here I thought I had made my very first friend…-
-Coach, you have many friend, I’m one- Luka patted her back. Francisca’s head melted and from where once was the back of her head now lay her face looking back at Luka.
-I’ll forgive you only this time.- The rest of her body melted and she was facing them once again. -Are you sure about this boy?-
-I’m willing to bet my entire career on him.- Luka sat beside her and patted the spot next to her for Sozinho to sit. Without question he sat down and leaned closer to Luka, fully getting her warmth. -Sozi, where are your parents? Do they have phone we can contact on? Do you have a residence?-
-I don’t know my parents….- Sozinho shrugged. -I was born in dos mortos and that was it….I have no mother…I have no father…-
Luka bit her lip and smiled at him. -Eighteen correct? You are young…- She paused and smiled. -I have son, his name is Ivan, he is also young…but older…twenty-three- She chuckled a little as she looked at the young boy before her. -You’re so young I could be your mother- She paused and looked deeply into the boy’s eyes. -Do you want to get out Brazil? Even if you don’t play, do you want to live somewhere better than dos mortos?-
It wasn’t even a question, Sozinho immediately nodded and looked up at Luka like a goddess. -I would do everything miss! I don’t wanna go hungry…I don’t wanna rob….I just want to be happy….-
Luka turned to her coach and friend, sighing deeply as she nodded. -Sozi, we get you passport, we search registry and get you out of Brazil, we’ll move to Madrid in Spain, do you have anyone that is important to you? A grandpa? A grandma? Brother, sister?-
-I am alone.- Sozinho shook his head. -That’s what my name is. Sozinho means alone in Portuguese.- He looked up at Luka. -But….why do this for me? I’m just stranger…no?-
Luka nodded and patted his head. -You are stranger now, yes, but if I can save one person, if I can change one live I’m happy, I become your mother in field and off field, what you say?-
Not really knowing what he was getting himself into, the lonely boy nodded quickly and hugged Luka as tightly as he could. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity, no other boy gets as lucky as him to steal from the right stranger at the right time and get an immediate one-way ticket out of the favela hell that was dos mortos.
Luka felt the body’s soft body against her and she took him into her arms like her own son, patting his back as Francisca stood up and began making calls.
The man sat on the bench opposite to them and stared deeply at Sozinho and Luka embrace.
-This is why they betrayed you.- He sighed deeply and shook his head. -There is a thin line between kindness and sheer stupidity….I fear you’ve already crossed into the bad side of it.-
-You are awful, Japan man- She smugly smiled at him.
-Don’t fucking call me that.- He looked at her with a boiling rage in his eyes.
-If you want me to play for your shitty, near relegation club, you must never call me that name ever again.- He took a deep breath to calm himself down. -Ey, favelado, I am Roberto Suzuki, don’t you ever call me by my surname or that nickname because I will beat the shit out of you.- He pointed at the boy.
-Don’t scare the boy Rob.- Luka lowered his finger and continued to pat his back. -This mean bastard over here is your country man, he has his reasons for not liking the Japanese….I don’t agree with them, but I can understand why he’s like that…-
Roberto leaned back and kicked both his feet on the bench they both sat on. -I’ll give it to you straight, my parents are Japanese, they used to live in Brazil but as soon as the economy was looking a little bad they abandoned their two-year-old on the streets. My only family is Brazil itself and my mother Marta, no more, no less.- He looked deeply into the boy’s eyes. -You better not disappoint boy, Luka is betting it all on you-
-That’s enough Rob, we continue and we overwhelm the boy. Let him rest for now- She sighed as the team’s doctor finally walked into the locker room.
He was a severely aged man with an elegant silver hair as sharp as a blade and a full beard in the same color. His eyes were a kind and soft blue and his skin as pale as snow, though a single long and wide scar ran all the way from his forehead down to his chin. He wore full formal clothes but instead of a suit jacket he had the team’s official jacket with its logo on his heart. An oval with a sky of white from which a golden sun rises from the blue depths of the sea and from the waters the words “Madrid” are written.
Luka opened her mouth to speak but before she could even get a word out the man placed his hand on the boy’s forehead and within seconds the wound had sealed. He slowly undid the homemade tourniquet Luka fashioned out of her shirt and checked on the closed wound.
-You should be careful.- He showed Luka her shirt’s sleeve. -It could be full of infections from your body, your sweat and even the places you visit.-
-Sorry doc, I wasn’t….uh…- She turned to Roberto. -How do you say it again?-
-Thinking.- Roberto looked at her oddly. -I’m surprised you’re still struggling.-
-English has never been easy for me…- Luka sighed and she smiled at the doctor. -Thank you for help doc, this is the boy I came here for-
The doctor stared deeply at the boy’s body. -Severe malnutrition, dehydration, stunted height growth, possibly anemic….we’ll have to run a lot of studies on him and start working on his diet as soon as possible….- He paused and kneeled down to Sozinho’s height. -My name is Leon, I am Madrid’s doctor and I’ve been working with the team for the past twenty years, you don’t have to worry about anything, our friends back at Madrid will handle it all, all you need to do is open your appetite- He smiled at the boy and patted his head.
-Leon, stop it.- Roberto turned with a glare toward the doctor. -He needs to learn this is not a game, we are not here to have fun and make friends, we are a serious football team and our priorities should always be to win trophies.-
-This is why you get kicked from all clubs.- Luka sighed and put her arm over Sozinho’s shoulders. -Roberto is very sour man, he has hard time expressing and most people don’t like him, if he is mean to you, Sozi, you tell me and I scold him-
-Say whatever you want big nose, but a goal is a goal, the results speak for themselves.- He stood up and stretched. -You all made a good choice in signing me, because with me by your side, nobody can stop Madrid.- He smiled widely as his long back and muscles proudly showed.
-See? Sour man- Luka laughed and stood up, giving Roberto the biggest, most painful back slap, he’d ever received on his life. The man bit his lips to not shout as Luka left the form of her hand in white upon his dark back. -Come on, while Francica handles legal business, we play-
Lika a duckling following his mother Sozinho went right behind Luka and inevitably Roberto followed them too. Standing back in the middle of the field Luka whistled and waved at a man sitting in the lonely stands. He prepared himself and threw a white and black football straight to Luka’s feet. The Croatian rolled the ball back and with a simple movement of her leg the ball flew high up. She nudged the boy’s arms and he tracked the ball. A switch was flipped on the boy’s mind.
He looked high up as the ball and the dim sum became one in darkness before it slowly fell to his head.
It bounced once, twice, thrice before he drove it down with a headbutt. The ball rocketed downwards and bounced against the soft grass, smashed by the boy’s sandals and bouncing even higher. He leaned far back and caught it between his head and shoulders, making it spin around his back until it fell down to his legs, kicking it all the way to the heavens with his back heel.
A wide smile came to his face as he continued to just enjoy himself, doing whatever crazy trick came to his mind. Not a single inch of his body was wasted, arms, legs, hands, hips, face, nose, fingers, butt, groin, stomach, knees, everything was used in whatever way he needed it to. It wasn’t as simple as good control with his body and knowing how to handle the unruly ball, no, his body and the ball where one in the same. Wherever he needed the ball to spin or to roll, however he needed to jump or twist he could do it with ease. He looked like a cartoon character moving however he desired, it looked truly unreal.
As the ball kept bouncing up high in the air and covering the sun with Sozinho’s glee, Francisca made all the calls she needed and got all the information necessary. By nightfall when the streets began to flood with the tears from the heavens, Sozinho took Luka’s hand and stepped into the plane that would take him far, far away from Brazil and the misery of dos mortos.