When I was young, there was one story among the thousands of useless conversations I had with Jiwoo.
If I became a god and could do everything in this world as I pleased, would it be fun or not?
Jiwoo had said it would be fun.
How could it not be fun if the world was at my command?
Hadn't he said that if he became a god, he'd make everyone happy and eat all the delicious food he wanted by resetting his stomach?
I remember him giggling, as if just imagining it brought him joy.
On the other hand, I had said it wouldn't be fun.
Of course, it might be fun for a moment, for a few days or months, but I thought it would eventually become boring.
Isn't that so even if you think only in terms of soccer?
Why is it joyful to score a goal?
It's happy because it's difficult to score.
If I could score goals whenever I wanted, wouldn't there be no excitement at all?
So Jiwoo had said he'd become a god if he could, while I had said I wouldn't.
But just now, I had changed my mind.
I had wanted to become a god.
To become a god and do as I pleased.
I had wanted to make our team win exactly as I wished.
"This way..."
"..."
But it turned out I couldn't become one just because I wanted to.
Far from being a god, I was merely a human, and an exceedingly inadequate one at that.
And the stubbornness of such an inadequate human could not prevail against the world.
With nothing but a single-minded desire to win and the childish whim of wanting to be a reliable youngest member, I could not defeat Man City.
"Please go in this way."
"..."
I feel like being alone more than ever, but this too doesn't go my way.
Guided by a staff member wearing something like a hearing aid in his ear, I head toward the press corner.
Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever done an interview after losing a match. I only did them when we won.
Is it always like this in England?
I feel like a criminal being dragged into court.
Thanks to that, I'm a bit worried.
From what kinds of questions will come out to what kinds of answers might pop out of my mouth.
If only I hadn't done interviews acting so confident before the match.
If they ask why we lost when I was so confident, what should I answer?
Do I have the right to remain silent in interviews too?
With my mouth running ahead of me, I pass through several corridors and enter the interview room where cameras, more repulsive than ever today, are waiting.
Perhaps excited at the thought of making fun of me already, the interviewer waiting with a microphone is beaming.
What will his first words be?
"We've brought in a liar," perhaps?
But the first words that actually came out of his mouth were unexpected.
"Today we have with us Ri, who showed a dazzling performance that surprised everyone. Let's begin the interview. Hello."
"...Hello."
...Is he making fun of me?
"First, allow me to offer my sincere condolences. You fought hard but unfortunately suffered a defeat; still, you kept the embers of hope alive for the second leg with two goals. What are your thoughts on facing a team like Man City?"
Thoughts.
Scratching my chin, I organize my thoughts before answering.
"I think they were an opponent we could learn a lot from. They weren't an easy opponent."
"I see. However, while the result was unfortunate, your individual performance was outstanding. Both the first and second goals were exceptional. How would you evaluate your own play today?"
...This is too cruel.
"I was bad."
"Excuse me? But you shone brighter than any other player today."
Can't you tease me in moderation?
I glance at the interviewer, but his expression looks as if he truly doesn't understand and is asking genuinely, so I let out a sigh.
Is he serious?
"...We lost."
"That may be true, but even in the team's defeat, your performance was certainly—"
"No."
I had tried not to, but in the end, my sensitivity explodes.
A curt voice leaps from my mouth, surprising even me.
"If I had played well, we would have won. We lost because I couldn't. There's nothing more to it. I wanted to win... but I lost because I wasn't good enough. That's all."
Still, I guess being honest about everything is for the best.
After lashing out like that, my mind feels a bit clearer.
The interviewer finally nods.
"So you're saying that nothing is more important than the team's victory. Suddenly, I think I can understand anew why you are loved by the fans and why you became an excellent player at a young age."
...I don't know how he reached that conclusion, but saying nothing is more important than the team's victory is just obvious.
"Still, the second leg remains. Of course, the situation has become difficult, but listening to you, it doesn't seem you've given up yet. May we hear a word of your determination for the second leg?"
Hmm... determination.
My mouth doesn't open readily.
Since I've already been found out as a liar, who would believe me even if I lied again?
But there's no other way to say it either.
Rather than making promises about what I'll do, wouldn't it be better to simply speak the emotions I'm feeling right now?
"...Since the second leg is at home, I want to play a match that won't embarrass the home fans. And I hope it will be a match that I myself have no regrets about."
Rather than making a promise I can't keep... this is better.
Because this is just my wish.
Though of course, that's the most difficult thing of all.
"Yes. Thank you for your words. That was our interview with Jian Ri of Fiorentina."
Anyway, I let out a sigh of relief that the interrogation ended faster than expected.
And as I'm trudging out, preparing to leave the interview room...
The interviewer calls out to me in a cautious voice and says:
"I sincerely support you. Please know that you have a tremendous number of fans in England, too."
...Hmm.
If you suddenly say something like this, it makes me sorry for answering so curtly earlier...
"Thank you. Ah, and earlier..."
So when I apologize for that, the interviewer makes an indecipherable expression and waves his hands.
And then he says something absurd.
"I'll take responsibility and write you a good article."
...You don't have to go that far.
But I don't bother saying that out loud, simply bow my head and leave the interview room.
*
"I'm sorry!"
"We're sorry!"
"We have no face!"
...I'm bewildered.
It's not just bewildering; I'm so seriously bewildered that I don't even know what scene I'm looking at.
The locker room I returned to with heavy steps after finishing the interview.
Having no face to meet my seniors, I tried to enter quietly, as meek as a mouse, and pack my things, but...
"Hit each of us once!"
"I don't think once is enough for me, so I'll take two."
"No, you should take three."
The scene that greeted me was my seniors prostrating themselves on the locker room floor, hands on the ground.
Ah, no.
What is everyone doing?
I'm so bewildered that I can't understand what's happening right now.
So bewildered that I end up kneeling down first.
"E-everyone, what are you doing. Get up."
"No. We don't even have the right to sit comfortably."
"We seniors have nothing to say, youngest. No, we're not even your seniors anymore. From now on, you be the eldest."
"How dare we sit at the same eye level?"
No... I'm the one who should be banging my head and apologizing.
I don't know why everyone is acting like this.
"G-get up, I'm telling you."
"No. We can't."
Even when I try to pull them up, they all resist, so I have no idea what to do and look at the Coach.
With a look asking him to help rather than just watch.
"C-coach."
"..."
Then the Coach looks back and forth between me and the players, soon lets out a sigh and nods.
"Alright."
And then...
"...Coach?"
"I'm sorry."
No, seriously, why is everyone doing this?
And why is the Coach prostrating himself with that expression?
"...Ha."
I'm really going to lose my mind.
*
"I shouldn't say this as a professional, but honestly, that's how I felt. It felt like there was a wall..."
Inside the bus heading to the accommodation.
The captain sitting in the seat next to me speaks while looking out the window.
"It felt like soccer from another dimension. Even standing still, I could barely breathe, and around the 5th minute of the first half, I already thought, 'This is going to be hard.'"
I want to say something in response to that weak voice, but I have nothing to say, so I just listen.
Because I felt the same way.
"But thanks to you, we held on. In the first half, I mean. We face you in training. Compared to that, those guys are nothing; we just had to block them somehow, and then the youngest would take care of the rest. We actually held on pretty well, right? Plus, you even scored the first goal."
The captain lets out a short laugh, then sighs and continues.
"Man, but in the second half, their expressions completely changed and they came at us. There are things you just can't stop even if you give it your all. When we conceded the go-ahead goal, our spirits were already broken. That's why the third and fourth goals went in so futilely. We shouldn't have been like that. Honestly, I half gave up. Thinking, how can we beat guys like this, we've already made it to the tournament, that should be enough."
...It makes me reflect once more.
If I had shown a more trustworthy side a little earlier, my teammates wouldn't have broken either.
But as the captain has been doing all this time, once again he apologizes in my place when it should be me doing so.
"Sorry. Before you shouted at us, that's how we felt. But it snapped us back to our senses. The youngest was trying to win somehow, fighting without giving up, while we weren't doing anything and gave up so quickly. I was so ashamed I wanted to hide somewhere."
"..."
"In the first place, well, it's a difference in caliber. We were only ever going to get that far, and you're someone with the caliber to go much higher than us."
"...Please don't say that."
I say something because for some reason it's hard to hear, and the captain lets out a short laugh while still looking out the window.
"Hey, the truth is the truth anyway. Anyway, I'm sorry. You've had it hard because of a lousy captain. If you'd met a better captain, you would have been more comfortable."
...This is beyond hard to hear; it's enough to make me angry.
Thanks to that, my mouth moves on its own.
"I told you not to say that. If the captain acts like that, what does that make the team members?"
"...Huh?"
"If the captain speaks so weakly, what does that make the team members who trust and follow the captain? It makes the whole team look pathetic."
"...You're right. That's true."
...Shit.
I thought he might scold me for being insolent and trying to teach him.
If he admits it, what does that make me?
I let out a sigh, and the captain glances at me and smiles.
"Sigh. Instead of embracing my team as a captain should, I'm receiving comfort from the youngest. I don't deserve to be captain. From the next match, you wear the armband."
"...Don't say ridiculous things."
"No. I'll tell the Coach. To give the captain's armband to you. The Coach will say okay right away."
"I said no. If you do that, I'll use the captain's authority to make you run 100 laps around the training ground."
I pout as I speak, and the captain chuckles.
At that sight, a laugh escapes me too; I guess laughing is still a good thing.
The captain lets out a long sigh and says:
"Anyway, I'll try not to hold you back in the next match, at least. I'll try not to have any regrets in the match, at least."
"...Me too."
The captain extends his hand, and I take it.
And with that, we didn't say another word until we arrived at the accommodation.
"..."
In the end, I laughed even if forced, but that doesn't mean my regrets disappear.
Come to think of it, it feels like just yesterday that I resolved to enjoy the process rather than the result.
Yet seeing myself get depressed immediately after losing a single match, it seems living as one resolves isn't so easy.
...Right.
Perhaps what's more important than winning or losing is leaving no regrets.
If I can pride myself on having poured out everything without regret, wouldn't there be no need to blame myself regardless of the result?
...That's what I try to think, but.
Saying this after losing a match only sounds like an excuse.
The best way to leave no regrets is, in the end, to win the match, isn't it?
The second leg... no matter what, I want to win.
However, results don't go according to my wishes.
I'll just hold in my heart the thought to do my best so I can accept whatever result without regrets.
"Alright. Let's get off."
While lost in these thoughts, the bus stops before I know it. It seems we've arrived at the accommodation.
Since I was sitting on the aisle side, I hurriedly stand up, gather my things, and trudge toward the front door.
But the Coach looks at us and speaks.
"Square your shoulders, you lot. Are you going to act like losers? The deeper you are in enemy territory, the more confidently you must act so the opponent doesn't look down on you. We haven't lost yet, so keep your shoulders back and get down."
"...Yes." "Yes."
"Listen to those voices."
"Yes!"
I nod at this and get off the bus with strength in my shoulders.
Then a few fans waiting at the hotel entrance wave at us; instead of hanging my head and passing by, I walked proudly.
And I even signed autographs for fans holding out jerseys before entering the accommodation.
As long as we don't give up.
We haven't lost yet.
< Hold Your Head High -1 > End