Who's That Kid? -3
Honestly... it felt like waking up from a dream.
A feeling of being roused from sleep by the crowd's roar, as if returning to reality.
Waaaaaaah-!
Crash.
Like the glass of a window shattering, the membrane of the world surrounding me broke, and the things beyond that glass—which had felt like another world—now began to approach with clarity.
Only now did I feel the air, the texture of the grass beneath my feet, and the wind brushing across my cheek from left to right.
Had I been dreaming?
Well. Even I had to admit it was too unrealistic.
Me? Dare I say that I came on as a late substitute in a first-team match and scored a goal?
Even for a dream, that's a bit much.
It was such a preposterous dream that I'd be embarrassed to tell anyone. It felt almost shameful, like a private delusion I'd kept buried inside was unfolding right before my eyes.
Scoring a goal in front of Dad, in front of Jiu, and in front of all these spectators.
Had I wanted a moment like this enough to dream it?
No... perhaps everything had been a dream all along. From the moment I was called up to the first team, or since we beat Juventus, or maybe since I signed a professional contract. No. It must have been a dream since the moment I heard Jiu was coming to Italy.
Yes.
This absurd situation, where everything felt like a dream, couldn't possibly be reality.
"...."
I closed my eyes.
Then fear flooded in.
I felt as though, were I to open these closed eyes again, everything would have returned to its proper place.
Back to the old me. Back to the real me.
I was afraid that the dark corner of a room would spread out before me.
But I had to face it.
I summoned my courage and opened my eyes.
And then...
The first thing I saw was Vlahović running toward me.
It wasn't a dark corner of a room.
"Heeeeeey-!! Kid-!"
Vlahović's massive body lunged at me, engulfing me. Then, from the sides and from behind, I felt the hands of my senior teammates pulling me into hugs one after another.
"Kid, you caused a wreck!"
"Your face was all pale, was it all an act!"
"Wow, where the hell did a kid like this pop out from?"
"See, we didn't lose to this kid for nothing!"
...I can't breathe.
Only now, thanks to the sour smell stabbing into my nose, did I realize.
Wow, this isn't a dream.
It's a cruel reality.
So I'm incredibly glad, but... if this is reality, I'm going to die from suffocation...!
"Hey, hey! Everyone out! The kid's gonna die!"
Before being crushed to death, or suffocated.
Fortunately, a saving hand rescued me.
It was the captain, Biraghi.
Biraghi squeezed through the other seniors to open up breathing room for me, then tapped the top of my head with his palm and said,
"It's his debut match and debut goal, and you're going to manhandle him like this, you brats!"
Then he grabbed my shoulder, turned me around, and pushed my back.
"Go!"
Having been pushed out like that... I stood alone, bearing the full weight of the crowd's gaze.
Waaaaaaah-!
The roar was still pouring down.
The thought that this roar was meant for me suddenly made me want to lower my head, but I couldn't.
I raised my head, meeting those gazes one by one as I looked around the stands.
I wanted to find Dad and Jiu.
But could I find them...?
"...."
There was no way I could find them.
Finding Dad and Jiu among this many people was impossible.
But it was fine.
Because even if I couldn't see the two of them, they were definitely watching me.
Toward those two who were watching me from somewhere, I clenched my fist and raised it high to the sky.
I wanted to show them.
What Dad and Jiu's support had made me into.
It felt so good to think that I had shown them.
*
If there was anyone in the world with the narrowest field of vision at this very moment, it was probably I Jian's father, I Wonhun.
Because right now, the only thing his eyes could see was his son.
"Ah..."
I Wonhun stood in an awkward posture, neither fully standing nor sitting, his mouth hanging open. It was not an appropriate look for a grown man, but none of that mattered.
His son had scored.
It was already amazing that he had made the first-team squad and sat on the bench for the first time, and it was amazing just that he had stepped onto the pitch as a substitute.
And to think he even scored.
And quite beautifully at that.
Even to himself, who wasn't particularly knowledgeable about soccer, it was a beautiful goal.
"Hah..."
But honestly, the goal itself wasn't that important. What mattered more was that his son was standing tall in front of thousands of spectators.
Yes.
He was standing tall.
Even with thousands of eyes upon him, he stood with his shoulders squared.
How could he do that?
He had been a son prone to shame. A son who had found cheering burdensome.
And now, not one or two, but thousands of cheers were pouring down on that son.
And yet, the boy was facing that support head-on.
He even had a smile on his face.
Could it be that he could now accept cheers as just cheers? That he no longer felt burdened by them?
Or perhaps it was still burdensome and embarrassing, and he was simply enduring it.
Either way, he was indescribably proud. Could he now cheer for his son with a light heart? His chest felt light.
What in the world had made his son grow like that?
"Wow, I Jian. You couldn't find me? Get ready to get an earful after this!"
Gim Jiu, who had been bouncing around for a while, plopped down into her seat and spoke.
Damn. She'd been shouting and waving her hands like that, and he hadn't noticed her? She'd have to give him a piece of her mind after the match.
"Still, that celebration was for me, right, I Jian?"
Well... since Jian's celebration was clearly directed at her, maybe she'd let him off just this once.
Tch. If he said otherwise, she'd pinch his side.
"You were seriously amazing, I Jian. Seriously..."
Anyway, she was proud.
There was merit in looking after him more than her own younger sibling. Seeing so many people cheering for Jian, she felt strangely prouder herself. Of course, since most of them were older men, she could feel proud without worry.
And so.
These two weren't the only ones cheering for I Jian.
"No, what did I just see?"
"What kind of goal is this?"
Spectators rose from their seats, clutching their heads, and muttered among themselves. After a round of cheering, everyone now looked dazed and bewildered.
It couldn't be helped.
A kid they'd never seen before came on as a substitute and scored a completely unexpected goal.
Neither the substitution nor the goal were things anyone had imagined. So the amazement came like an aftershock.
"Did you see the one-two before he went in?"
"He's the one who carried it up from midfield in the first place, right?"
"And that finish. Wow, so composed?"
Everyone recalled the goal they had just seen and clicked their tongues in awe. He hadn't just scored; he had scored a stunning goal.
He picked up the ball near the halfway line and moved up, then beat one opponent with a concise dribble.
Then he charged straight into the densely packed defense, quickly exchanging one-two passes with Vlahović.
With just two one-two passes, he completely dismantled the defense, then shook the net with a composed finish.
Honestly, the situation itself wasn't one that called for such cheering. The opponent was Genoa, and since they were already leading 2-0, it wasn't a dramatic goal.
But the process itself was like a welcome rain to the Fiorentina fans, who were exhausted by the boring, tactic-less, repetitive one-pattern attacks.
That was why they couldn't help but cheer so frenziedly.
How long had it been since they'd seen someone break through the center like that to score?
They couldn't even remember the last time they'd seen an attack that properly utilized a good striker like Vlahović.
This was what they had wanted to see, this!
"It's been a while since I liked what I saw!"
Eventually, even after the match resumed.
The spectators in the stands all began muttering the same thing.
"So, who is he?"
"Who's that kid?"
"Number 20, Jian I? You heard of him?"
"First time hearing it, obviously."
So, who on earth was that baby-faced Asian who had appeared like a surprise gift?
Even in a place where soccer was practically daily life, there weren't many hardcore fans who had the entire youth team roster memorized.
Even if they were interested in prospects, most only knew up to the U19 team, and fans who followed the U17 team below that were even fewer.
Thanks to that, most fans had no choice but to hurriedly pull out their phones and scour the internet.
"Huh... He was playing for the U17 team until last week. This season... he's recorded 10 goals and 2 assists?"
"He was a total prospect? Then why didn't we know at all?"
"Well... he's only played 6 matches. So, it's been less than three months since his debut."
"Wait. He debuted in the youth league and made his first-team debut just three months later?"
"Yeah. And he even scored a debut goal in that debut match."
The fan who had quickly looked up the information clicked his tongue again.
He was only sixteen. He had joined the team at the beginning of this year, but he had only started playing matches just over two months ago.
In just those two months, he dominated the U17 league, got called up to the first team today, and came on as a substitute to score a debut goal.
Had they just seen a rising star?
"Hey, besides... he was at Juventus before?"
"He was with those thieving bastards?"
"Yeah. Seems he was there until he was fifteen and then came here."
"Wow, the more I hear, the more I like this kid!"
Even his past history was to their liking.
He had come over from the Juventus youth team.
Fiorentina fans called Juventus "Ladri (Thieves)."
Because historically, there was more than one thing stolen from them by Juventus.
It started in the 81/82 season when the two teams were competing for the league title, and the trophy was handed to Juventus due to a dubious decision in the final match.
After that, in the 89/90 season UEFA Cup final, the trophy was lost due to another unjust decision, worsening the grudge.
On top of that, recently, even the team's top prospects, Bernardeschi and Federico Chiesa, had moved to Juventus.
To Fiorentina fans, Juventus were thieves who took things away.
But this kid had come over from Juventus to here instead?
Had they seen a rising star who was also incredibly satisfying!
"A complete treasure has appeared!"
"Ha, I don't care if my head gets cracked. I wasn't planning on coming to the stadium next week, but now I have to!"
"I'll try believing that octopus head one more time too!"
"Octopus head? Watch your mouth! It's a sexy bald head!"
"A manager's gotta be bald!"
Boisterous laughter bloomed in the stands.
It was truly a joyful laugh they hadn't seen in a long time.
In high spirits, the fans took the opportunity and began belting out the supporter chant at the top of their lungs.
Oh Fiorentina-!
di ogni squadra ti vogliam regina-!
Oh Fiorentina-!
combatti ovunque ardita e con valor-!
Nell'ora di sconforto e di vittoria-!
ricorda che del calcio è tua la storia-!
That powerful chant surged through the stands loud enough to be heard outside the stadium.
*
"You're in big trouble now."
"Yeah. Brace yourself. You're in big trouble, you."
"Wow, if it were me, I'd have run out the back door."
It was when leaving the locker room after the match.
I was leaving the locker room utterly drained after running around for a mere 20 minutes, and the seniors said that to me.
"What... do you mean? Big trouble?"
When I asked with a worried expression, the seniors burst out laughing instead of answering.
...What?
No, you said I'm in big trouble. Why are you all just laughing?
You have to tell me what the big trouble is!
"...."
But since no one answered and just kept laughing, I walked on full of worry, having no idea what was going on.
Someone threw an arm over my shoulder.
It was Captain Biraghi.
"Hey, kid."
"Yes...?"
"What were you thinking?"
"W-what?"
"I'm asking why you went and scored a goal like that in your debut match. Can you handle it?"
Even Biraghi, who was the kindest of the seniors, was saying this, so while I had no idea what he meant, I was starting to get genuinely anxious.
What had I done wrong?
Why did I score such a goal in my debut...
Was there some rule that the youngest couldn't score? Because it was too cocky?
"...."
Would I get "disciplined" by the seniors when we got back?
It was when I reached the stadium exit with my face scrunched up like I was about to cry.
Biraghi pointed ahead and spoke.
"Here, this is the price you have to pay."
"......Ah."
Only then did I realize.
What they meant by "big trouble" and "the price I have to pay."
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