"Push up!"
"Stop them!"
My goal became the spark that set the match ablaze.
It was only natural.
From the opponent's perspective, they'd dominated the match for over 20 minutes, only to concede a sudden goal and now found themselves trailing on the scoreboard. They must have felt like their feet were on fire.
Meanwhile, we defended more aggressively to withstand their offense, and having confirmed that our pressing was working effectively, we didn't back down.
And, all other things aside.
It felt like both sides had become emotionally charged.
Including me, all the players on the field right now are kids under 17.
The string of tension that had been peculiarly taut snapped with a pop, and the heat on the field flared up in an instant.
How should I put it.
From this point on, instead of playing the way we were taught, thinking twice or three times before acting, impulsive plays started to increase.
The match became far messier than before, and in the midst of that, I had to focus even harder to stay calm and keep my judgment from clouding.
The opponent became especially more emotional.
Their pride must have been hurt from conceding a goal to someone like me.
After scoring, I was waiting in our half for the match to resume when I saw them huddled together talking about something.
Among them, I could see Jerome getting particularly worked up. I figured he was probably saying something about harassing me to crush my spirit. Just like in the old days.
I wasn't thinking this because of some victim complex. After the match resumed, the pressure directed at me actually became much more intense.
Just like now.
"He's coming from behind! Watch out!"
See? The moment I touched the ball, I could hear warnings shouting for me to be careful.
Paaang-!
As soon as I got the ball, I quickly passed it off and moved.
Then the guy who had charged roughly at where I was standing looked at me with a disappointed expression before returning to his position.
If I had stayed put, we would have collided.
"..."
Honestly, it was impossible not to be scared knowing everyone was targeting me like this. But I couldn't show it on the outside either. That's exactly what those guys wanted. If I got dragged along to the opponent's tune, the match would only get harder.
I'd learned from Ji-woo that sometimes putting on a brave front, even when you're not, can help. And that I have quite a talent for acting.
Aren't I the one who told such an absurd lie about being a genius and still haven't been caught?
Instead of showing my fear, I moved even more actively and increased my touches on the ball. When we had possession, the opponent pressed hard, and we had to protect our ownership against that pressure. I had to be the one to do that.
The kids on our team actively helped me too.
Paaang-!
The moment I received the ball in the center, opponents came rushing from all directions.
I hesitated for a moment, wondering which way to escape, when—
"Break through!"
"Block him!"
The kids on our team joined in and blocked the opponents with their bodies. It was as if they were saying, 'I'll handle this, so you go on ahead!' Was it because I'm too emotional that my nose stung a little at that sight? I'm not alone anymore. I have people on my side.
Tatatat-!
I dribbled through the gap the kids had carved out for me. Once I escaped the tight space, wide open areas came into view.
Football is an 11 versus 11 battle. If two or more players stick to me, another area has to be open. Right now, that was the right flank.
Bwooooong-!
I played a long switching pass toward that space and sprinted forward.
My breathing was heavy since it was the end of the first half, but I ran with joy.
I'd never felt a match be this fun before.
*
"Fighting, fighting! Just push a little more! You can do this!"
Coach Luca shouted at the kids heading out onto the field for the second half.
After that, Coach Luca returned to the bench and sat next to Manager Tony, then immediately started making a fuss.
"So, should I contact him right away?"
"...Contact who?"
"Manager Vincenzo. To tell him that Fiorentina's future is here, so hurry up and come get him!"
"The match isn't over yet."
"So what! Does the result matter? Ji-an wasn't intimidated by the Juventus kids at all—he dominated them instead! He overcame it! Overcoooome!"
"...You're too impatient, even for an Italian man."
Despite scolding Coach Luca for his fuss, Manager Tony couldn't hide the smile on his face either.
Manager Tony had been more nervous before today's match than he'd ever been.
Of course, Juventus was always an opponent that made him nervous whenever they met, but today was on a different level.
Something far more important than three points or first place in the group was at stake in today's match.
"I'm just another Italian man who can't help it, I suppose."
In truth, while putting together the squad for this Juventus away match,
Manager Tony had agonized over it dozens of times, without exaggeration.
About whether to bring Lee Ji-an or not.
Of course, he knew the boy's determination was strong.
He had shown enthusiasm during training, and Tony had heard from Coach Luca that Ji-an had said he really wanted to do well in this match.
But still, the thought that bringing Lee Ji-an on this away trip and making him play might be selfish was hard to shake.
It hadn't even been a year since Lee Ji-an left Juventus after failing to adjust.
That had become a kind of trauma, and even after transferring teams, he hadn't been able to recover easily—that was Lee Ji-an.
Was it really right to put such a kid, a mere 16-year-old child, out on the pitch as a so-called good opportunity to overcome his trauma?
Was it really the right choice to make a child who had hidden away, suffering from the burden, stand before that burden once again? Manager Tony hadn't been able to come to an easy answer.
So he was grateful.
To Lee Ji-an, who had played so well in the first half that Tony wondered what he would have done if he hadn't put him in the match.
It wasn't simply because Ji-an had led the match management perfectly, made the best judgment at every moment, and even scored a goal on top of that.
His skill level was something Tony had been certain from the start that the Juventus kids couldn't match.
What Manager Tony was grateful for was how Lee Ji-an's expression had changed as time passed.
At the start of the match, and through the early-to-mid first half.
Lee Ji-an's expression had looked quite tense, but after the goal, something seemed to peel away, and his expression became vivid. It was like a black-and-white photo becoming a color photo.
Yes, his face had become lively.
It wasn't the face of a young child who had hidden away, unable to adapt to an unfamiliar environment, who had made looking over his shoulder a habit due to the burden.
It was simply the face of a boy his age, enjoying football like any ordinary kid would.
"He looks good..."
"Pardon?"
"Hm? Oh. He was handsome to begin with, but he looks even more handsome now that his expression has brightened up."
"Well, with looks like that. Once he goes up to the first team, there'll be chaos."
Manager Tony chuckled.
"Oh, but it seems like he has a girlfriend?"
"...A girlfriend?"
"Yeah. From what I heard, she's a friend he's known since Korea. He said he used his wages to buy her meals and gifts."
"I guess being handsome is the best after all."
With that personality and he has a girlfriend.
As Italians, they didn't find it hard to understand, and Manager Tony and Coach Luca burst into laughter.
*
"Look into him."
"Pardon?"
"That kid over there, find out about him."
"That kid being... who are you referring to?"
In one corner of the stands.
A man in a suit furrowed his brow.
The man glared at his subordinate who couldn't understand what he was saying, then kindly pointed his finger toward the field and spoke.
"Number 20. Find out who that kid is."
"Ah... the number 20 over there."
At the man's words, the subordinate confirmed Fiorentina's number 20's face and scratched his head.
He's a newly appointed director who hasn't been with the team long, hasn't been in Italy long either—so it's natural he wouldn't know.
The subordinate spoke with a troubled expression.
"That... he was originally a player on our team."
"...What did you say?"
"His contract was terminated at the beginning of this year. After that, he went to Fiorentina..."
"Why?"
"Uh... from what I understand, it was because he couldn't adapt to team life."
"Couldn't adapt to team life?"
When the man stared at him with a frightening gaze, the subordinate nodded.
The man demanded a detailed explanation, and the subordinate continued explaining to the extent of his knowledge.
After hearing the explanation, the man let out a sigh.
"Hmm..."
My goodness.
The man was well aware that Juventus's current state was a complete mess.
After all, why had he, a German football executive, come here in the first place?
They call themselves a team representing Serie A, yet the first team squad barely has anyone from the youth academy.
Like suckers, they buy players from somewhere for expensive fees to build a squad, then hand over league titles to Inter, whose squad costs only half as much.
This season's start wasn't looking great either.
He had come as a surgeon to operate on this mess of a Juventus.
So he'd expected it to be a mess.
But he hadn't known they'd be this clueless.
No, how could they fail to recognize that kind of talent and let him go so easily?
Couldn't adapt? Then they should have done whatever it took to help him adapt.
They should have been with him around the clock caring for him, and if there were elements making him uncomfortable, they should have swept them all away.
Just look at that.
Isn't the entire match being dictated by Fiorentina's number 20 alone?
It was only natural.
Because his talent was extraordinary. Because his talent had already exceeded U17 level.
And they couldn't recognize that talent?
Then what about Fiorentina? What did they see that made them snatch him up so quickly?
What were those people calling themselves youth coaches at Serie A's top club using their eyes for?
What, do they just carry them around because they'd feel empty without them?
"Haaah..."
The man rubbed his brow and let out a sigh.
He hadn't thought this would be a simple problem to begin with.
But now he felt that major surgery would be needed to reform this antiquated club.
"You said it was the beginning of this year."
The man murmured.
That they let that kid go at the beginning of this year.
Hmm.
If only he had come just one year earlier, the team's future might have been different.
Well, there was nothing that could be done about it now.
All he could do was start by replacing the coaches who had been there at that time.
*
The match was quite tough.
Since I'd never played a full match before, my legs stopped moving properly from mid-second half. Even after all that physical training, it still wasn't enough. Then again, thinking that while seeing kids who had been training consistently also struggling—that's a presumptuous thought.
But I was able to run until the end.
When I thought about where this strength was coming from, it was thanks to the expressions on the opposing team's faces.
The expression of things not going their way, the expression that comes out when you're angry but there's nothing you can do about it.
Thinking that it was because of me gave me strength.
Of course, I don't know if it really was because of me or not.
But that wasn't what mattered. What mattered was that thinking that way gave me strength.
Thanks to that, even though the bench asked me several times during the match if I could keep playing, I was able to answer that I could.
I just wanted to play until the end today.
I didn't want to leave even a single regret in this place.
I wanted to go home having shed everything from my memories.
Still, tough was tough, so toward the end of the second half, I pushed through by thinking about Ji-woo.
That message... I should have deleted it.
Why is she always glued to her phone anyway.
Anyway, it would be embarrassing if I ended up being the one who died after saying I'd kill them all.
So I gave everything I had until the end, so I could look Ji-woo in the face with confidence when I got back.
Maybe that's why.
The whistle signaling the end of the match sounded especially powerful today.
"Tweet, tweet, tweeeeet-!"
When the match ended, the opposing team's kids bent over clutching their knees, while we raised our hands and let out cheers.
We won.
Against that team from Turin—no, against Juventus!
"Both teams, shake hands!"
"Good game..."
"Good game!"
After the match ended, we lined up at the half line and exchanged greetings with the opponent.
I shook hands with the kids who had given me bad memories.
I didn't feel anything particular.
There was no need to hold unnecessary feelings toward kids who were worse at football than me. (This is my GOAT)
...Of course, I'm joking.
"..."
After finishing the handshake and heading back, I noticed the bald coach over there looking at me with a complicated expression. But I didn't meet his eyes and walked past, heading toward Coach Luca and Manager Tony.
"Ji-an!!"
"Great job! You were the best!"
I ran toward the two of them, who had their arms spread wide open for me, and threw myself into their embrace like a child.
ㆍㆍㆍ
Vrooooom-
A bus carrying twenty kids and several adults was heading toward Florence.
The kids who had poured everything into the match were all fast asleep.
"..."
Manager Tony was tapping on his phone.
He was composing an urgent message to send to someone.
The recipient was Vincenzo Italiano.
The first team manager of Fiorentina.