Click-!
Click-!
Holding a large board in hand, I offer an awkward smile toward the camera.
Inside the teachers' office—unfamiliar, yet familiar.
Taking photos as if I've actually become someone.
"Thank you, thank you."
"...No, thank you."
Once the photo shoot ends, an uncomfortable silence settles in.
An elderly teacher keeps bowing deeply, so I bend my waist to bow in return.
Receiving a bow from an elder is already embarrassing enough.
Not to mention when that elder was the principal of my elementary school just a few years ago—the feeling can only be described as strange.
That is exactly how it is now.
"We will prepare a statement disclosing how the donation is used."
"Ah, yes. Well..."
"I promise we will do our best to ensure it all goes to the children."
So, as for why I suddenly came here—though it's rather funny coming from my own mouth—
I came to do a good deed.
To deliver a donation.
Well, it's two birds with one stone.
It's where I first started soccer, and more than anything, it's where I first met Jiu.
It was bound to be a special place for me, so since I was here, I wanted to look around at least once; but coming empty-handed and just looking around would have felt wrong.
You could call it a sort of entrance fee.
"No, but this amount could cover five years. Is it really okay to donate such a large sum..."
It is a bit expensive for an entrance fee.
With nine zeros attached, the panel bearing my name and the amount is quite long.
Maybe I lack a sense for money.
Everyone was surprised when I said I'd donate this much.
There are plenty of surprises.
If they're surprised by this, how surprised would they be if I showed them my bank account?
"...It's nothing."
This might look like cocky bragging, but perhaps it's all right to show off a little, at least for today.
I shrug it off with forced nonchalance, and as the principal bows again, I quickly bow my head in return.
"Please feel free to look around. If there are any areas that seem to need repairs, or anything you think would be nice to have, do let us know. We will execute the budget immediately."
"Ah, yes..."
Anyway, after finishing these somewhat embarrassing formalities—
I step out of the teachers' office and see Jiu leaning against the hallway wall, looking out the window.
"Finished?"
"Yeah."
"Let's go to the first-grade classroom."
"Shall we."
Walking down the hallway with Jiu—no, walking down memory lane.
Actually, it's already been over six years since graduation.
As a place of memories, the strange unfamiliarity outweighs the familiar joy, but still, here and there—
things that revive long-forgotten memories are visible in every corner.
"Wow, there used to be a water fountain here. I guess they changed it to a water purifier."
"...You remember that?"
"You don't? We used to drink from it like this, mouths pressed right up."
"I remember."
"I laughed so hard watching you drink on your tiptoes because you were short."
"...You really were a terrible kid."
"Me?"
"You made fun of me for being short."
"Made fun? I wasn't that kind of kid. I laughed because you were cute. Because you were cute."
Seeing this, it seems not only grand things become memories.
A water purifier placed in the hallway—
seeing this trivial thing revive memories from over six years ago proves as much.
"Wow, looks like they still learn danso. I really hated danso."
"You used your danso as a weapon."
"Are you trying to make me out to be some kind of freak? What do you mean, weapon."
"It's true though."
"I just used it to scare kids who were fooling around."
"That's a weapon."
"How about I swing it at you once?"
"...Oh, there's our classroom."
"Ooh, Class 1-1!"
A pleasant smile comes to my lips at the sight of the Class 1-1 sign at the end of the hallway.
Honestly, I don't even remember which classes I was in during second or third grade.
Yet I remember first grade.
Class 1-1.
Maybe because the name was easy to remember, or maybe because it was just that special.
Creak—
Opening the classroom door, we are greeted by a welcome sight long forgotten yet never truly erased.
"Wow... this is it. That unique classroom smell you can't quite put into words."
On the green chalkboard, tomorrow's supplies are written. In front of it stands the teacher's desk.
Behind it, our desks huddle closely together.
As Jiu said, I too feel something like the scent of memories that cannot be expressed in words.
"Isn't this exciting? This smell."
"Exciting?"
"Yeah. I feel like... like I'm going back to the old days."
Jiu's eyes sparkle brightly while looking around the classroom.
That gaze alone makes it seem like Jiu has truly returned to those elementary school days.
The place where I first began learning about the world and society.
The emotions are new for me, too.
"Hey, remember? Our seats."
At Jiu's question, I let out a short laugh and point to the corner of the classroom.
I don't think it was like that in other grades, but in first grade, we seemed to stay in the same seats all year.
So my desk mate was fixed, too.
Always, Jiu and I sat together.
"Right. It was right here. Sit down."
Jiu sits in that seat, looks at the chalkboard, and smiles.
When I sit in the seat beside Jiu, strangely, vague memories from that time seem to surface.
It was always like this.
I would sit in the corner seat looking out at the playground, and Jiu would chatter away, telling me to focus on class or repeating what the teacher had just said.
"You really never know what'll happen to a person, huh?"
"What?"
"When you sat here, you really were a kid who made people wonder what you'd become. I was honestly worried whether you could make it in this harsh world."
"...It wasn't that bad."
"It was exactly that bad. Always sitting in this corner, not talking to the other kids. You'd only answer with a tiny, shriveled voice when I spoke to you."
"..."
I want to argue, but it was true.
Most days, from the moment I arrived at school until I went home, Jiu was my only conversation partner.
Everything else scared me and made me miserable.
If I hadn't even had Jiu—
I might have cried every night, refusing to go to school.
"Sigh. But that little kid has become someone who stands before tens of thousands now. This is what they mean when they say you never know what'll happen."
At Jiu's words, I let out a short laugh and look out the window.
Truly, you never know what'll happen in life.
Who would have known that the kid stuck in this corner seat would become a soccer player, play in Europe, and win the Champions League?
No one would have.
Not even me.
Sitting in this seat after several years and thinking this way, the events of the past months, the past years, feel even more like a dream.
"..."
But.
What feels even more like a dream is this very moment.
Now, over ten years since the days I always sat in this seat—
that I can sit here with Jiu once more, just like back then, reminiscing about old memories.
"...I was lucky."
"Hmm? What?"
At the words I let slip like a soliloquy, Jiu turns to look at me.
Now that I think about it.
"How many elementary schools are there in the world?"
"All of a sudden? Well, a lot, probably."
"Even just in our city, there must be hundreds. Out of those hundreds, it had to be our school. Had to be our class. Had to be this seat."
What would the probability be?
Among all the elementary school students who enrolled worldwide in the same year, what were the odds of becoming Jiu's desk mate?
"Thanks to sitting in this seat by chance, I became your desk mate. When I think about how lucky that is—it's almost dizzying."
"...What's with the dizzying."
"If it hadn't been you, my life might not be what it is now."
"...Was it really that much? I think you're exaggerating."
Jiu shakes Jiu's head, perhaps embarrassed by the sudden seriousness, but I mean every word.
In this vast world—
the fact that the seat I happened to take was this one feels like dizzying fortune.
Thinking that, I am suddenly overcome with a desire to repay Jiu for the good fortune I've been given.
I want to make sure that having sat in this seat by chance and becoming my desk mate was also a piece of good fortune for Jiu.
"I'll make sure only happy things happen to you."
As I speak that desire aloud, Jiu gags from beside me.
"Ugh. That was so cheesy."
"...So what."
"So what? Wow, you really never know. The day has come when you dare say such things to me."
"..."
"Since we're here, shall I help you remember the old days? Want a proper trip down memory lane?"
"...Sorry."
When Jiu raises a fist, I instinctively hunch my shoulders.
No matter how many Champions League matches I play, my cowering instincts remain.
Especially sitting in this seat, I feel like I've slipped back even further into those days.
For Jiu, going forward—
I found myself hoping that, decades from now, Jiu would remain unchanged—
always this spirited, always pushing me around.
Unchanged.
. . .
October 28, 2024.
More than two months have passed since the sweltering summer ended and a new journey began.
"..."
A regular weekday afternoon, returning from training ahead of the weekend match.
I was, rather ill-suitedly, sitting at my desk tapping away at a laptop.
"Hmm..."
What should I call this?
An essay? A diary? A letter?
Seeing how all three feel both ambiguous and plausible, it must be somewhere in between.
In any case, I was writing something I had no talent for.
The reason I suddenly started writing? The club asked me to.
They said they needed something to post on the homepage and SNS accounts.
But it wasn't an easy assignment.
The club's request was quite specific.
There were many required elements.
Where I was born, how I grew up, how I became a soccer player and arrived at who I am today.
They told me to write in as much detail as possible, even if it spanned several pages.
So I spent more time with my hand on my forehead dredging up memories than I did actually typing.
I'd rather kick the ball a few more times.
Sitting at a desk and racking my brain didn't suit me at all.
Well, still.
"Sigh..."
I write the final sentence and, feeling this should be enough, let out a breath and nod.
They said they'd fix spelling and awkward phrasing anyway, so this should be fine.
Everything that needed to go in is in there.
My sincerity.
They said that's all that matters, so it should be okay.
"Save... and send it here..."
Fumbling along.
I save the file and send it to the email address I'd received it from.
After double-checking that it sent properly—
I let out a long sigh, as if finishing a major assignment, stretch, and get up.
Without even taking a moment to lie down, I pull a coat from the wardrobe, throw it on, and leave the room.
Downstairs, Dad seems ready to go out as well.
Of course, Jiu is there, too.
"Shall we get going?"
"Yes."
"Let's go, let's go."
Usually, our outings are nothing more than going out to eat.
But today's destination is rather far.
It's an outing that requires a flight, and the landing point is Paris, France.
Well, it's not that I've faced Paris Saint-Germain in the Champions League for three years running.
I'm not going to play a match; I'm attending an event I was specially asked to participate in.
"Wow. Tomorrow's the day our Jian's dream comes true."
"...Don't."
"Don't what?"
"It might not happen. I don't like counting my chickens."
"But they also say words become seeds."
I sigh and shake my head at Jiu's words.
Anyway, this is an opponent I can never defeat with words.
I load the bags into the trunk, take the passenger seat, and fasten my seatbelt.
Soon the car pulls away, and from the back seat, Jiu shouts in a bright voice.
"Let's go! To get our Jian the Ballon d'Or!"
"..."
Ah, seriously.
If I don't get it after this, how embarrassing would that be......