139. Soccer Is Hard -1
“Huh? What’s this?”
I was slurping down steaming-hot pasta when I heard Jiu’s voice from the living room. My heart skipped a beat, but I forced myself to stay calm and swallowed the rest of my noodles.
The moment I’d been dreading had arrived.
“What’s up?”
“There’s a flower here. Did you buy it?”
“A flower? No. I didn’t buy one.”
“Then what is this?”
The bewildered voices of Dad and Jiu discussing the flower reached my ears… Soon after, I heard someone approaching the kitchen with light footsteps.
Dad’s steps go thud-thud; Jiu’s go patter-patter.
Poker face, poker face.
I buried my face even deeper into my plate and began inhaling the pasta noodles without breathing.
…Why was my heart pounding as if I’d been caught red-handed, when I hadn’t even done anything wrong?
“Hey, what’s this? Did you bring this?”
At Jiu’s question, which felt like a stab to the back of my head, I sucked in the remaining strands I was inhaling.
Slowly, I lifted my head and looked at what she was holding in her hand.
A single white lily in full bloom.
I’d deliberately asked for no packaging, so it was completely raw, as if I’d simply plucked it from some flower bed.
I stared at it blankly as if I had no idea what it was, then said, “Ah.”
“…Huh.”
“Why? Where? What is this?”
…I wished she’d ask me one thing at a time.
Bombarded by no fewer than three questions at once, I racked my brain as carefully as if I were in an official interview, then answered the easiest one first.
“It’s a flower.”
“Duh, you think I don’t know that? Did you buy it?”
“…I just picked it up on the way.”
“You picked it up? Why?”
“……Because it was pretty.”
“You picked it up because it was pretty? You? This?”
Was it really that surprising that I’d bought a flower? Jiu’s voice was saturated with disbelief, as if she couldn’t understand it at all.
…Well, I supposed it made sense. I’d never done anything like this before.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t give her the concrete answer that would resolve her confusion.
The words *I bought it for you*—I’d rather die than say that.
“You bought it for me? You saw a flower on the road, and it was so pretty and fragrant that it reminded you of me, so you got it for me? Because you were thinking of me?”
“…”
…Hmm. What?
Had there been any clues in my previous answers that would let her deduce that reason?
I didn’t think so.
Jiu was letting her imagination run wild, which was absurd, but even more absurd was that her random guess was spot on.
In that case… I had no choice but to turn the tables.
“…What are you talking about. I brought it for Dad.”
“You brought it for your dad? This? Thiiis?”
At my claim that I’d brought it for Dad, Jiu shoved the flower into my face as if it wasn’t even funny.
The more embarrassing it got, the more brazen I had to be.
I nodded nonchalantly.
Jiu let out a hollow laugh, as if she was speechless.
I’d exercise my right to remain silent now.
I wiped my mouth clean and buried my head back into my pasta to focus, but this time Dad’s voice rang out.
“You bought a flower for me?”
…If my first thought upon hearing that voice was that Dad’s hearing was unnecessarily sharp, did that make me an unfilial son?
I wanted to feel grateful for Dad’s ears, still alive and kicking, but wasn’t he too young for that?
Soon, a man holding the flower in one hand appeared with a thoroughly mischievous face.
The moment I saw that face, my pure, innocent hope that Dad would save me crumbled mercilessly.
“So, you’re saying our son bought this flower for his dad?”
…Was there some law against a son giving his father a flower?
I answered as calmly as possible to Dad’s interrogation-like question.
Since you are the father who brought me into this world and raised me, I poured all my desperate hope for help into my words…
“You like flowers, Dad.”
But that final, desperate plea of mine… was beautifully betrayed.
“Hahahahaha!”
Like a dam whose floodgates had been flung open the day after a typhoon, explosive laughter burst from Dad’s mouth with terrifying force.
Jiu, who was beside him, laughed along, and I learned the meaning of the word shame through my very body.
…If I ever end up ignoring the coach’s orders in the future, you’ll know it started today.
“Oh my, oh my. Yes, yes. Our son bought a flower for me. Because his dad likes flowers. Yes, yes.”
Only after the violent laughter had subsided somewhat did Dad manage to compose himself and nod.
“I do like flowers. Of course I do. I especially like lilies. Yeah.”
…He was speaking as if he’d help me out now, but wasn’t it a bit too late?
Even a late cover was fine as long as the defense succeeded, so I nodded brazenly, as if to say *See?*
Then Jiu, who’d been wiping tears from laughing so hard, asked again, still smiling.
“Oh, really? Is that true?”
At that, Dad made a pufferfish face, as if trying to hold back another burst of laughter, and barely managed to nod.
“Of course! I’ve never once told anyone I liked flowers, and this is the first time I’ve ever received flowers in my life, but it’s not like I have a reason to hate them, right?”
……Even if I’m dense.
I’m not so dense that I couldn’t tell that was sarcasm.
I’d thought it was defensive cover, but he was the opposing striker.
“Wow, thanks to your dad, I’m getting a flower too. It’s the first time in my life.”
“It’s my first time too, but I guess this is why people give flowers as gifts. It feels good to receive one.”
“Right? Oh, it smells nice.”
“I should put this somewhere nice. Maybe in that water bottle over there?”
*Snicker snicker snicker snicker.*
Hearing those giggles sandwiched between their conversation, an inexplicable anger welled up in me.
…The last remaining innocence in this world just died.
I’m going off the rails.
I’m definitely going off the rails.
Maybe I’ll get my arms covered in tattoos like the senior players, bam.
“…”
Hmm.
That’s kind of scary, so I should think of another way.
*
Maybe because my mood and shame were evident all over my body.
Either way, I wasn’t teased for the rest of the evening.
Of course, I didn’t like how Dad had proudly placed the flower in a tall bottle right in the center of the dinner table… but at least neither of them grilled me for the truth.
“*Sigh.*”
I let out a sigh and collapsed onto my bed. I didn’t know what I’d done today to feel so exhausted.
I hadn’t played a match or done any intense physical training.
I was as tired as if I’d taken a plane to the other side of the world and back.
…I supposed this was my punishment for doing something unnecessary.
People should live the way they’ve always lived.
“…”
I propped my head up with one arm on the pillow and moved my thumb across my phone.
As my eyelids gradually grew heavy and I thought I should get some sleep, I opened the messenger to send Jiu a goodnight text.
And as I was about to tap into the chat with Jiu… I realized her profile picture had changed and tapped on it.
“…”
My eyes snapped shut, and I clenched my molars and toes at the same time.
And I made a vow once more.
Coach Vincenzo.
If the moment comes when I ignore your orders and act on my own, please just let it be.
Because its time has simply come.
“Ha.”
In Jiu’s profile picture, a familiar single lily was sitting there prominently, and beneath it, the status message read:
-hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha...
…What exactly was so funny was beyond me.
…
October 8, 2022. Stadio Olimpico, Rome, Italy.
Today was the day of Round 8 of the league against AS Roma.
“We absolutely have to win! No draws! We win!”
“Forza!” “Forza!”
Our goal from the start was to stand at the summit of Italy.
To achieve that grand goal, two consecutive defeats were unacceptable.
The blazing momentum of the challenging warriors filled the ground.
But in the midst of all that, far from feeling strength throughout my body, I felt my energy draining away like a squid.
Tap, tap.
I shook my limp arms and legs and waited for the whistle.
My physical condition wasn’t very good.
Not to the point where I couldn’t play, but compared to my peak condition last week, it was close to a mess.
You could say it was the worst condition in which I could still play a match, so I guess you could call it my best condition.
Thanks to that, I didn’t have the false confidence I’d had last week.
The cocky chuunibyou sufferer who thought he could do anything as long as he had the ball was nowhere to be found; there was only a trembling little lamb worrying if he could safely do his part today.
But it was a strange thing.
Maybe this was the outfit that suited me.
Just as a shabby tracksuit was more comfortable than a fancy suit… my mind was more at ease now.
*Beeeeeep—!*
The whistle blew, and I slowly began the match.
Instead of sprinting toward the front lines with fiery momentum, I lightly jogged into position.
And I looked around, activating my brain.
There was no such thing as an easy team in the first place, but AS Roma was especially far from being easy.
My head began to spin rapidly without me even trying, and I suddenly remembered a creepy story I’d read in some book.
Was it the story about how a cockroach’s intelligence rises to frightening levels the moment it senses danger?
I remembered there was a phrase attached at the end: *believe it or not.*
Looking at it now, it seemed okay to believe it.
*Tap-tap-tap—!*
For about five minutes, I felt like a bug in front of insecticide.
With the help of superintelligence activated by crisis, I finished analyzing the opponent and slowly began to move.
But I didn’t move abruptly; I moved slowly enough that the opponent wouldn’t pay attention.
If I moved quickly, the fly swatter would surely come down, so moving slowly helped.
*Thud—!*
*Thud—!*
I lightly returned the passes coming my way with one touch.
Like a training dummy, I completely turned my back to the opponent’s goal.
I bounced back the passes that came several more times like a wall.
But my head had no time to rest.
The injury I had to watch out for most might not be my ankle, knee, or hamstring, but a neck injury.
Though everything below my neck moved leisurely and limply, everything above it moved busily, constantly scheming to survive.
If I kept at it… eventually, I’d see an opening.
*Thud—!*
They must be bored of me just bouncing back passes even when they gave me the ball, yet another pass came.
Then, as if testing the seniors’ patience, I made a move as if I’d return it again.
With my back to the opponent’s goal, I straightened my upper body and stood.
This time, I kept my head still and only looked at the ball.
Then, only when the ball was close enough to me did I move quickly.
To the opponent who had to mark me, it was spine-chilling…
*Vrooooom—!*
From near the left half-space, I sent a curving pass toward the right side.
The opposing players were already concentrated on this side, leaving that side open, and I’d seen that Romero was eyeing that space.
There was no need to turn my head and check the situation.
With several unnecessary steps eliminated, the result came quickly.
*Tap-tap-tap—!*
I confirmed the pass dropping into the space behind the defense and dashed into the box.
Romero, having received the ball, was quickly advancing along the touchline as if about to send in a cross.
The opposing defenders quickly dropped back to hold the line, their attention all drawn to him.
Thanks to that, while no defender was paying me much mind, I’d been watching the opposing defenders rather than Romero, and I moved alone along a different trajectory.
While the defenders sprinted in straight lines to occupy the space in the box first, I alone moved in a left diagonal.
Planning to hide completely behind the defense.
Then, Romero glanced into the box and sent in his cross.
*Vrooooom—!*
Long.
It came in long.
But it wasn’t high. He’d struck it so powerfully, almost like a shot, that it barely cleared the defenders’ heads and sliced quickly across the box.
The basics of a pass is to give it so the receiver can receive it comfortably.
Romero truly lacked consideration.
*Fwump—!*
I sprang up and brought the ball down with my chest.
Regretting that I’d neglected chest workouts from the pain in my chest, I landed a step ahead of the ball.
*Tap-tap-tap—!*
The defenders, who had already turned their bodies by then, were rushing at me.
If it were last week, I would have tried to do something here somehow, but today I wasn’t in condition for that.
I handled it simply.
*Thud—!*
I laid the dropping ball back behind me.
Into that space rushed Senior Bonaventura.
Unlike Romero, I at least had some consideration, so I passed it so he could strike it immediately…
*Vrooooom—!*
The senior’s right foot expressed its gratitude for my consideration.
*Swooooosh—*
*Thwack—!!*
When my condition was good, soccer felt difficult, but when my condition was bad, soccer became this easy.
This was why no one could dare claim they’d fully figured out soccer.
Even the thought that we could win today because we lost last week was full of irony.
Soccer was this hard.