"I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what?"
"Just... sorry."
"More importantly, who are you?"
"Call me whatever you like. You humans usually call me 'God,' even though such a thing doesn't really exist. You just like to shift responsibility onto me."
"…Kid, I think you've hit your head."
"Haha. That's funny. You can think that if you want."
Snap.
As the little girl in front of me flicked her fingers, a sharp, piercing pain surged through my chest. It wasn't a physical pain. It was the kind of ache that comes from being so profoundly sad it hurts to breathe.
I had felt this sensation before.
"There are just too many of you humans."
Snap.
"Gah! Argh!"
"We don't have enough staff to process the karma and merits of every single person. That's why we create these avatars."
Snap.
The girl flicked her fingers a third time.
Suddenly, dozens of identical girls filled the space around me. Then, with one more flick...
Snap.
Only one remained. What the hell is going on? Is this a dream?
"A dream? No. We decide many things in human history. But sometimes, my avatars make mistakes. Every human is meant to live with a reasonable amount of hardship and adversity, but for you, it was too much. That was the mistake I mentioned. I apologize. Please forgive me."
Forgiveness? I can't even speak! It hurts like hell!
"The pain you're feeling right now is all the misery and sorrow you experienced in your past life. You're having to process it all in a single minute, which is why it's so hard. But don't worry—it's actually a blessing."
A blessing? This? Don't make me laugh.
"It's true. Anyway, you're going to live a new life. You'll keep most of your memories, which will be a huge help in your next journey. However, there is a condition. Everything is an equivalent exchange."
Slowly, the pain began to recede. I managed to gasp out a question.
"Huff... huff... What condition? Phew—"
"The thing you cherished most."
"…Sophia."
"Yes. I will take all memories related to her. In exchange, you won't feel this specific pain in your next life. When you wake up, your past memories might feel like they have holes in them, but it won't feel strange to you."
Wait! You're taking my memories of Sophia?
Then what reason do I have to live—?
"Don't worry. The world you're going to is completely different from the one before. Everything is the same, yet everything is different. Understand? Remember those words: everything is the same, and everything is different. Well then."
The girl unilaterally ended the conversation with one last flick of her fingers.
Snap.
The world began to spin, and a heavy drowsiness washed over me. Does a little girl like you really control everything?
"Yes, that's right."
As I heard her voice, I felt myself drifting further away from the ground. I was starting to believe her. No, for the sake of having someone to blame, I chose to believe she was God.
You absolute brat. If someone like you really existed...
"You should never have taken Sophia."
I squeezed those words out with the last of my strength. Behind my fading consciousness, I heard the girl's voice one last time.
"Sorry. Sophia is gone now."
"...."
I don't know why, but I knew her apology was sincere. Wait... who was Sophia?
The Super Bowl.
The world's largest single-day sporting event.
In the United States, at least, the Super Bowl commands more attention than the World Cup final. To put it in perspective, the US economic activity spikes by an average of 17.3% on that day; only the Thanksgiving period records higher figures.
Every year, when the so called "Super Sunday" arrives, Americans drop everything to watch football.
It's often joked that if an enemy nation invaded, an American would say, "I'm watching the Super Bowl right now, can we push the war to later?"
It's a joke, of course, but the passion is real enough that people wouldn't be surprised if it actually happened. And this passion was no different here in Hawaii, far from the mainland.
# February 6, 2006
#-1. Maui, Hawaii
#-2. Restaurant Aloha
"GO, GO, GO, GO!!"
"YEAH—!!!"
"COME ON!!"
The Philadelphia Eagles' tight end, nicknamed 'Little John,' had just scored the first touchdown. A roar that sounded more like a collective scream erupted from a group of people wearing midnight green jerseys.
Tension immediately flared up inside the restaurant.
"I told you! New England is going down!" "You're the one going down! Shut up and watch!"
"In your dreams!"
"Fuck you!"
"No, fuck you!!"
The sight of usually kind or serious adults bickering like toddlers is something you only see during the Super Bowl. It wasn't much different here.
Ah—right. I am currently living my second life.
And I remember most of my first one.
I used to think people on TV who claimed to have memories of a past life were scammers, but now that it's happened to me, it's just bizarre.
In my past life, I was an NFL coach. I was considered a legend, having led my team to four championships. However, I probably wasn't a good husband, considering I was divorced four times. Though, those memories are a bit hazy.
If you asked if that was really me, I wouldn't know what to say. Remembering my past life feels like having memorized a novel word-for-word. I know it's me, but it feels like someone else.
"What happened, kid? You said New England would win."
"They will. Just watch."
"Phew—I'm trusting you. I put $700 on this." "$700? If you have that kind of money, why don't you pay your tab?"
"I told you, I'll pay if they win today!"
"…Is that a promise?"
"Yeah. I'll even give you a fat tip."
After securing a promise from the rude man, I quietly watched the TV amidst the noisy atmosphere.
Second quarter, 1:10 remaining. New England finally scored. The restaurant erupted again.
Tom Brady—widely considered the league's best quarterback—threw a short 4-yard pass to wide receiver David Givens for a touchdown. After the extra point, the game was tied at 7:7.
Hm—interestingly enough... I don't recognize anyone.
Once I was old enough to move on my own, I realized this second life was in a completely different world. The Presidents, the celebrities, the sports stars—not a single one matched my memories. Even history was subtly off.
Sports were no exception. Everything was different. In my previous life, the best team in the NFL was Cleveland, and the New York Jets—the team I coached—were a traditional powerhouse that had been a playoff staple since the 1980s.
But here? The Cleveland Browns are a disaster whose owner once tried to flee in the middle of the night, and the New York Jets are... well, maybe not the worst, but they are a mediocre, struggling team.
And the players? Tom Brady? No matter how hard I searched my memories, the name "Tom Brady" did not exist in my old world.
When I first realized I had been reborn, I thought about making money through the lottery or sports betting, but I've given up on that. As it turns out, while I'm living a second life, it's practically no different from a first one because I can't predict the future.
However, I definitely have an advantage.
"YEAH—!!"
"That's it!!"
Third quarter, 11:00. I watched New England score their second touchdown to take the lead while serving my mother's cooking to a customer.
I held out my hand to the cheering man.
"Huh?"
"You owe me a tip."
"Ah. Right, of course."
"Your bill was $15, so you should give me at least $2."
"Haha! Alright. Who could ever win an argument with you?"
I tucked the tip into my personal jar in the kitchen. Looking at our family's finances realistically, I concluded that if I didn't save up now, college would be difficult. I was confident I could get a sports scholarship, but my past life taught me that you need cash on hand for emergencies.
Sizzle—!
Mmm. That smells delicious. I really love my mother's cooking.
"Moi, are you hungry?"
"A little."
"Wait just a bit. I'll make you something tasty. I'm so grateful for your help on such a busy day."
"We're family. It's only natural."
"Moi! Do you know how much you just touched my heart?"
"Hehe. I love you, Mom."
My mom looked like she was about to melt. She turned to the other ladies working there and started bragging about how her son was the best.
I've long since fallen in love with this sweet, affectionate family—something I never experienced in my first life. I'm finally experiencing parental love. Even though it feels like I'm "learning" it because my mind is older, it's still wonderful.
My mother, Jessica, is English. She was born to English parents and eventually found her way to Hawaii, where she now runs this restaurant. Fortunately, it's highly rated and loved by both locals and tourists.
My father, Noah, is a mix of Samoan and Korean (born to a Samoan grandfather and a Korean grandmother). He works at a bank in Honolulu. The funny thing is, whenever someone meets my dad for the first time, they always ask, "What sport do you play?"
My dad is a giant—201 cm (6'7") and 118 kg (260 lbs). He isn't fat; he's just packed with dense muscle. I once saw him play in a local community football game, and he was a total beast. Even when three guys in their early 20s tried to tackle him, he didn't budge.
And I inherited those genes. I'm only five years old, but I'm 125 cm (4'1") and weigh 30 kg (66 lbs). I'm bigger than most seven-year-olds.
That's why serving isn't hard for me. Child labor? Please, this is Hawaii. It's not that it doesn't exist, it's just that no one sees a problem with a young son helping his mother.
To the regulars, I'm just a hardworking, filial son.
"Dwayne, how old are you this year?"
"I'm five."
"Damn! Are you kidding me? Did you hear that? This kid is huge and he's only five!"
I was certainly bigger and healthier than my peers, so I naturally became the leader of the local kids. I didn't get that title without a fight, though; I once scrapped with three 8-year-old Samoan kids at the same time. Even though it was three against one, I had years of "experience" they didn't.
"Mo—i! Time to eat!"
"Coming, Mom!"
I did one last lap around the floor, picking up as many empty plates and glasses as I could carry before heading into the kitchen. On the table sat my favorite Loco Moco and some Garlic Shrimp that smelled heavenly of butter and garlic. Both were my mom's signature dishes.
I folded my hands immediately.
"Thank you for the food!"
Between bites, I continued to help out by carrying heavy plates. Every time I did, a little extra macaroni salad or Kalua pork would find its way onto my plate. A meal I intended to finish in 10 minutes took 20.
I took two empty plates to the sink. That's where Uncle Iwai, who moved here from Japan, was working. My gut feeling told me he moved to Hawaii to escape some trouble back home, but he wasn't a bad guy, so the islanders protected him. This is just that kind of place.
"Oh! Moi. I'll do that."
"Daijou-bu (It's okay)."
"Haha! Moi. Japanese. You learn fast." "Honto? (Really?) Arigato!"
Because I'm living my second life, I've gained a reputation for being a genius child. My parents stayed humble, but everyone else wondered what I'd become. Some said I should be President, others said I should go to Hollywood and date all the women (that guy got slapped by my mom and kicked out).
Well... As long as I don't grow up to be hideous, I do have a promising face. Looking at my parents, I can pretty much guess how I'll turn out.
Anyway. No matter what people say, the career I chose for this life was decided the moment I was born.
"Moi."
"Yeah?"
"Moi. When you grow up. What will you be? Really. Are you going to play football?"
"Yeah! Of course!"
The football knowledge from my first life combined with the physical potential of my second. If I blend those two correctly...
"I'm going to be the greatest quarterback!" "Quarterback?"
"Yes!"
The biggest star in American sports.
Becoming a quarterback—treated as a national hero—won't be a problem at all.