Honesty Is Comfortable -4
We gather at the rendezvous point, ride the bus, arrive at the airport, and board the plane. We fly through the sky, land in Turin, get on another bus, and head to our lodgings.
Throughout that entire journey, my mind was a bit complicated.
Because I still couldn’t quite understand why Jiu had come looking for me from early in the morning, even getting soaked by the rain, to tell me that I absolutely had to win.
“—I’m a Fiorentina fan too!”
I think of Jiu’s answer and let out a snicker.
Like being a fan meant anything coming from her.
No matter how much I thought about it, it was a flimsy reason for Jiu—whom I saw almost every day and texted back and forth with daily—to suddenly act like that.
Then what?
Only one thing came to mind.
These days, Jiu’s hobby is searching my name on the internet. She claims it’s for studying Italian, but whatever.
She probably did it this time too.
I’d never once searched my own name, but with the match against Juventus approaching, I could guess that a few articles about me would have come out.
Perhaps among them, stories of my past might have been published. And perhaps Jiu had seen them.
Could that be why she suddenly came to find me, even braving the rain, to tell me to do my best?
“···”
Of course, I don’t know.
Maybe she truly just wanted to become a real Fiorentina fan for a short while and cheer me on.
Maybe she had a bad dream last night.
If not that, maybe she was just taking a morning walk and happened to see me.
But that’s exactly why I feel so uncomfortable. Because I don’t know, I can’t shake the thought that Jiu might have learned about what happened to me.
“···”
Suddenly, I’m angry.
I didn’t do anything wrong.
If I did anything wrong, it was lying.
Other than that, I don’t think I did anything wrong.
Failing to adapt at Juventus and leaving the team.
Is that my fault? Is being bullied by the other kids and fighting really only my fault?
I… don’t think it’s my fault.
But then, why should I be so anxious because of it?
I didn’t do anything wrong, so why should I—
Why should I… “···”
Suddenly, I feel pain in my jaw and flinch, releasing my clenched muscles.
I’d been biting down hard without realizing it.
I just… feel annoyed.
I hate this entire situation.
I don’t know why I have to hide something that isn’t even my fault, and I don’t know why Jiu had to come cheer for me in the rain because of it.
I’m not anxious about my lie being exposed.
I’m annoyed that she might learn things I never wanted her to know.
“···”
I quietly look around.
Perhaps because the flight was tiring, the older players are all either sleeping or wearing earphones.
After confirming that, I bite down on my molars and mutter quietly.
“Bastards…”
I don’t know how many years it’s been since I used a Korean curse, but Italian curses couldn’t contain my current emotions.
I needed a target to vent my anger on.
…
The reactions of ordinary fans were understandable enough.
No matter how good Fiorentina’s recent momentum was, at the end of the day, they were still Fiorentina.
They would say today’s match was a certain victory, that there was nothing whatsoever to worry about.
That this match was merely a chance to evaluate the ability of the new signing, Dušan Vlahović.
Fans who simply support the team and enjoy watching a match once a week could certainly think that way.
However, the Juventus management and players couldn’t help but see things differently.
“We have to win overwhelmingly…”
The Allianz Stadium, filled with spectators.
A man seated in the VVIP section mutters.
The man’s name is Maurizio, and he is the CEO of Juventus.
“They’ll do well. I made sure they understand.”
The man in the seat next to him leans in close, whispering.
But Maurizio furrows his brows.
Juventus’s recent situation couldn’t be seen as very good.
Looking at the bigger picture, this had been the case since the year before last.
A team that always claimed overwhelming championships had barely won by a single point, showing the early signs of ill omens.
That bad omen properly exploded last year when they handed the Scudetto to Inter.
In fact, saying they “handed over” the Scudetto might have been inappropriate. Last year’s Juventus hadn’t even finished second—they finished fourth.
Meaning they’d barely scraped together a Champions League ticket.
And that negative momentum was continuing this season as well.
With the league having completed 13 rounds, Juventus is currently stuck in 4th place.
Suffering the humiliation of having relinquished 1st place to AC Milan, 2nd to Inter, and even 3rd to Napoli, barely keeping their foot on 4th place.
With the situation worsening year by year, the club was demanding innovation.
And one of the cards they were preparing for that innovation was the acquisition of Fiorentina’s Vlahović.
Not Roosevelt’s New Deal policy, but a Big Deal policy.
This winter, Juventus intended to quell the uneasy public opinion by pulling off the largest contract in Europe.
It was a plan to show the message that the club was preparing for the future enough to make such a massive investment.
In fact, the links to Vlahović had spread through the media with decent fan reactions, so they had been self-evaluating it as a fairly successful plan.
But a problem had arisen.
A big problem had emerged that threatened to flip the gradually improving public opinion back around.
But that big problem was, absurdly, a boy who had left the team just one year ago.
His name was Lee, if I recall.
A brat who left the team early this year and moved his nest to Fiorentina.
Well, it’s a youth academy where countless kids come and go every year, so it isn’t strange.
The problem was that this brat was putting up unbelievable performances.
He had been in the Juventus youth system for two years.
But after moving to Fiorentina, he debuted in the first team in just a few months.
Well, that much could be overlooked… The problem was that even after his first-team debut, he was putting up dazzling performances.
Even more impressive than Vlahović’s, at that.
In the end, because of one brat, the team’s image was in danger of changing from “a team that knows how to use its players” to “the biggest pushover in the world.”
If they’d managed him properly, they could have used a player who could have become their next ace, practically for free.
To think they were now having to shell out 80 million euros on a single player because they couldn’t manage that one thing properly.
It was a pathetic situation that made even the executive want to curse.
“···Tch.”
Since things had come to this… there was only one way to quell the distrust.
To shut Lee Ji-an down completely in today’s match.
To make the watching fans not regret having missed out on that player.
Of course, that wouldn’t make the criticism disappear. His performances up to now clearly showed he was an insane talent.
But this was all they could do for now. At any rate, they had to make sure he didn’t so much as show the tip of his nose on the pitch today.
That order had been passed on to the coaching staff, and to the squad.
Therefore, now with the match about to begin.
“···”
“···”
Juventus players, whose market values were among the highest in Serie A, were looking at the 16-year-old boy, Lee Ji-an, with wary eyes.*Beeeeep—!
With the whistle, a massive cheer erupted as the match began with the opponent’s kickoff.
Our formation today was 4-2-3-1.
Vlahović stood as the lone striker, and I played as the attacking midfielder beneath him.
It definitely felt like a more comfortable position, but honestly, that wasn’t important right now.
The opponent had come out in a 4-4-2 formation.
Looking at the white and black striped jerseys lined up in that formation, I didn’t feel the intimidation I should have.
Juventus was definitely a stronger team than us, and the opposing players boasted enormous market values—players I normally wouldn’t even be able to make eye contact with—but… I don’t know.
Right now, those striped jerseys looked like nothing more than prison uniforms to me.
I wanted to arrest them all and throw them in—
-Thump
-Thump-!
The opponent slowly circulated the ball, gauging our reactions as if probing.
I wanted to rush up and steal the ball right away, even alone, but I couldn’t.
What we had to do today was defend first, then counterattack later. We needed to solidify our defensive line first.
I constantly turned my head, checked my teammates’ positions, held the line, and waited.
And whenever the ball entered the zone I was responsible for…
-Tap-tap-tap
-Thud-!
I rushed in quickly and clashed hard with the opponent.
Normally, I would have just blocked the passing route moderately, but now the heat I felt in my chest was giving me inexplicable courage.
-Thump-!
Confirming that the ball had gone back to the opponent’s side due to my pressure, I returned to my position.
Then the opponent tried to advance in another direction, but this time Saponara, who was playing on the left wing, fought hard to stop the attempt.
Intimidated by that momentum, the opponent hesitated once again.
They played a long ball back and took about a beat to catch their breath.
“Good—! Don’t leave them alone!”
“Hold the line! The line!”
Voices full of fighting spirit pierced through the noise of the crowd from here and there.
Our hearts were definitely the hotter ones.
Did putting on this purple jersey make us that way?
Ever since last week, before the match, when we drew a circle and put our arms around each other’s shoulders.
All the senior players had been thinking only about winning today’s match.
It felt incredibly reassuring that I wasn’t the only one who wanted to beat Juventus to death.
-Thump-!
-Thump-!
Several exchanges continued like that.
Whether by pass or dribble, whenever the opponent tried to advance, we ran at them without fear and stopped them.
We were stopping the opponent quite effectively.
However, if there was one thing we had to be careful about, I thought it might be fouls.
-Beep-!
Bonaventura collided with an opponent receiving a pass and gave away a foul.
I didn’t think it was that strong of a body check, but the referee’s whistle today was decisive.
Suddenly, I remembered what the manager had said before the match about being careful with cards.
He had emphasized it especially to our centre-back duo, but the other senior players and I had to be just as careful.
It was good to have a hot heart, but our heads needed to stay cold.
A hot heart helps, but a hot head is no help at all.
Conceding a foul over a seemingly insignificant tussle annoyed me for a moment, but my cooled head told me to use it too.
-Pshoooo-!
The opponent restarted the match with a long free kick.
The opponent, apparently frustrated by our defense as well, sent a long kick directly toward the goalmouth, but…
-Thump-!
Our goalkeeper leaped high and caught that kick.
And the moment he landed, “Hah!”
He ran forward and powerfully rolled the ball ahead.
It was coming to my side.
-Swoosh
-It was a situation where I had to join the counterattack.
While the ball was coming, I turned my head and surveyed the front and my surroundings.
Up front, Vlahović was standing alone, and behind me, someone was rushing in as if trying to prevent me from turning around.
I wished I could turn around immediately, but my judgment told me that turning wasn’t necessarily the only answer.
-Swoosh
-Tap-tap-tap
-As the ball rolling toward me and the opponent rushing from behind reached me at the same time.
-Tap-!
I threw my body into the direction the opponent was charging in first. I had blocked the ball from the opponent, but the opponent couldn’t slow down.
-Thud-!
“Kuk…!”
A strong impact from behind was felt, and my body toppled forward.
I had prepared for the collision, but it still hurt.
I deliberately raised both hands and fell flat, making it look like I was more hurt, and soon I heard the whistle of the respected referee.
-Pheut!
While lying face down, I slightly raised my head to see the referee running with a yellow card in hand, and the opponent with a frustrated expression.
“Warning! Be careful!”
As expected, today’s referee was strict.
-Tap
-After confirming that the warning had been issued.
I slowly got up, placed the ball on the ground, and nodded.
I felt like I’d found the key to victory in today’s match.
*“Whew, whew…”
“You okay? Huh?”
“Whew. I’m fine.”
I let out a sigh, pushed off the ground, and stood up.
I glanced at the scoreboard and saw that only 15 minutes of the first half had passed, but my jersey was already filthy.
I felt sorry for the washing machine that would have to clean this jersey.
But with this, I’d gifted the opponent a whopping 3 yellow cards already, so it was more than worth it.
Truthfully, I hadn’t done anything that amazing.
It was just that whenever I touched the ball, the opponents rushed at me as if their eyes were lit on fire.
The already strict referee easily pulled out cards whenever I fell.
Was this the effect Torreira had talked about?
Normally, rolling around on the ground like this might have been embarrassing.
Because I’d be showing a pathetic side of myself to Jiu.
But not today.
Perhaps because I was already thinking that my pathetic past might have been completely exposed.
They say honesty is comfortable, and right now, it felt much the same.
Now, just falling over like this didn’t feel embarrassing at all.
The truly shameful thing isn’t falling, but not being able to get up after falling.
-Psssh-!
The referee sprayed white vanishing foam where I had fallen and walked away.
It was a sign to place the ball here and take the free kick; this spray is usually used when taking free kicks in sensitive positions.
“Hey! Ref! The wall! Too close!”
Now was one of those times.
Slightly to the left from directly in front of the goal.
The distance was roughly about 20 meters.
I’d earned a free kick in a good position to strike directly at the goal.
It was close enough that the opponent had to set their defensive wall deep inside the penalty box.
Given the kicking ability of Vlahović, the designated free kick specialist, it was a position worth expecting from.
“Move back!”
“Don’t push!”
Amid the chaos inside the penalty box, Vlahović carefully placed the ball on the ground.
Really carefully, he adjusted the ball’s position several times as he prepared for the free kick.
Then, as if something kept bothering him.
He suddenly called for me.
“Yes?”
Wondering what was going on, I approached, and Vlahović picked up the ball and tossed it to me.
I caught it bewildered, and he said.
“No matter how I look at it, the left-footed angle isn’t there. You take it.”
“…Ah.”
A completely unexpected opportunity had come to me.────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────