Nike... eleven.
Adidas... eight.
Puma... four.
Ah, no. Five including me.
Puma has the fewest...
"Why? What are you looking at so intently?"
"Huh? Ah, it's nothing."
I wave my hands at the captain's question.
Then the captain lets out a short, dry laugh and turns his head.
We were in the middle of training; it was a brief break.
I had been carefully examining my teammates' cleats, counting the brands.
Just, suddenly curious.
As expected, Nike has the most, followed closely by Adidas.
Puma has the fewest.
...It stings a little.
Pumas are really good, though. Why don't they wear them?
Well, I mean, I know the brand isn't what's important. As long as they fit my feet well and are comfortable, that's best.
...Still, Pumas are really nice.
Why don't they wear them.
"Sst, my pinky toe hurts a bit. Is it because they're new?"
"They don't fit well?"
"I guess I'll know once I break them in more, but they feel kind of stiff for me."
I was pursing my lips for no reason when I heard Senior Saponara grumbling.
He was sitting and touching his cleats here and there. It seemed he was trying to switch to new cleats and was wearing a new pair, but something was uncomfortable.
"Those, Puma ones are good."
"Huh?"
At that sight, words flew out of me before I knew it.
"Ah, well... you said they were stiff, but mine feel snug."
"Really? What were yours called? Future? Should I try wearing what the maknae wears?"
Senior Saponara shows interest.
Thinking I had made a sale, the guys beside me butted in and ruined it.
"Puma is a bit..."
"If you want something soft, you should go with Adidas."
"The maknae doesn't play well because he wears Puma. He just plays well because he's good."
"Hmm. Is that so?"
Wow, unbelievable.
The Nike and Adidas factions mock Puma with their numbers.
But I can't lose.
"No. Puma is good."
"Huh?"
"Puma is mainly divided into three lines: Future, Ultra, and King. If you want agility, go with Future; if you want explosive speed, go with Ultra; if you want precise control, go with King."
"..."
"With such variety, you can choose to your taste. Moreover, with Puma's unique FusionFit, dual mesh material, and PowerTape technology providing an optimal fit without laces, where else would you find cleats like these?"
At my passionate speech, the seniors stare at me with blank faces.
I extend my foot and say,
"Besides, they're pretty. The model I'm wearing now comes in three colors, so I can switch depending on my mood. Even so, is Puma not good enough?"
Phew.
Was I this good at Italian?
After spewing such a passionate speech, I look at the seniors as if challenging them to refute, and the seniors suddenly burst into laughter.
"What's with him? Hahaha!"
"This is the first time I've seen the maknae talk so much."
"What, did you get paid by Puma or something?"
...That stung.
How did they know? Was it too obvious?
"Okay, okay. I got it. Puma isn't bad either. Satisfied?"
"Hey, don't say Puma is bad in front of the maknae from now on."
"Puma is the best. Puma is the best."
The seniors give me thumbs up.
It feels like they're teasing me, but anyway, I've earned their acknowledgment, so that's enough.
...That's right.
I decided to sign the sponsorship deal with Puma.
More than anything, the proposal of cleats made just for me had strongly appealed to me.
Honestly, it's unbelievable, isn't it?
Cleats modeled after me... there was nothing better to boast to Jiu about.
Well, saying it like this might make it sound like I gave up money and chose honor.
That's not it.
They said the money was enormous no matter where I went anyway.
It was an amount so large it was still hard to believe. To roughly give you a secret idea of how much... it was enough that I could retire right now and not lack for anything.
Of course, I have no intention of retiring, but if you only look at the money, that's how it is.
And I had decided to give that money to Dad.
No, I had decided to, but both Dad and the agent said no.
Dad said why would he receive such a large sum and refused, and the agent said I'd lose it all to taxes or something? Anyway, they said no.
I said it's my money and I'll do what I want, but why are there so many things I can't do.
Well, anyway, I had no choice but to make a separate card to give to Dad.
Now really... I don't have to worry about money.
Honestly, it didn't feel real at all.
Maybe because the units were too large, it only looked like numbers.
I'm still not sure if that's really money.
Well... maybe it'll feel real once I spend some of it later?
But I have no idea how to spend that much money.
Should I just buy 365 pairs of cleats and wear a different pair every day?
...But I'd still have money left over, wouldn't I?
"Maybe I should switch to Puma like the maknae said."
Anyway, that's why I couldn't just stand by and watch Puma get cursed at.
For Puma, I could do anything.
I had become that kind of person now.
"What, what! What were you guys talking about?"
As I'm about to get up and finish my break, Rika Romero arrives late, making a fuss and asking.
I place my hand on his shoulder and say,
"You said you were curious about the secret to my skills."
"S-secret to your skills?"
"Yeah. Shall I teach you?"
At my words, Romero's eyes widen and he nods his head fiercely.
I whisper into that guy's ear.
"...Wear Puma cleats."
"What...!"
I pat his shoulder with a grin, and he says, "Damn, so that was it!" very happily.
...
"Good. You can take your foot out now."
"Ah, yes."
"We measured accurately. With this, we'll take a mold and begin producing custom cleats that fit your foot shape perfectly."
At the words of an official who looked trustworthy, I nod and lift my foot.
I had just gone through a process of measuring my foot size and shape, and with this, they said they'd make cleats that fit my feet perfectly.
"So that you won't regret joining us, we'll do our best to make them. If you try the prototypes and don't like them, please tell us as much as you want. We'll revise them until you're satisfied."
"Ah, yes..."
After training ended and I returned home, unfamiliar faces were waiting for me with Dad.
They said they were Puma officials.
Since the agent had handled all the contracts, it was our first meeting, but they all seemed like good people.
Anyway, after exchanging greetings, the first thing we did was measure my foot shape, as I'd just described.
And next is...
"...I should put this on and come out?"
"Yes! Take your time changing. We're ready for the shoot."
They said they were going to take a few photos.
One side of our living room had been busy since earlier.
They had laid some white cloth on the floor and walls, and installed huge umbrella-like lights.
They said I'd stand in front of them and have my picture taken... I'd rather have trained for another hour. I'm dying of awkwardness.
But I signed the contract, so I have to do it.
I go into my room, change into the clothes the official gave me, and come out to the living room.
The first outfit was a Puma tracksuit.
"Wow! So cute!"
"The clothes found their owner!"
"It really suits you, doesn't it?"
As soon as I come out to the living room, the officials clap and make a fuss.
For a moment, I almost took out my wallet. I thought I'd come to buy clothes.
...Are you all determined to embarrass me to death?
"Could you sit here?"
"Ah, yes."
Next, I sit in front of a mirror and even get dolled up.
They put all sorts of things on my face... and on my hair too... I close my eyes tightly at the ticklish sensation, and when I open them, there's a different person in the mirror.
"Your base is so good there's nothing to do!"
"How is your skin this good?"
"P-please stop..."
They're all assassins here too.
Dizzy from the barrage of flattery that makes me unable to lift my face, I get up, and an official explains the shoot to me.
"You can just do it freely like this."
"Hoo. Yes."
The shoot itself didn't look particularly difficult.
I just had to hold the cleats so they could be seen clearly and be photographed in various poses.
But the problem is, standing in front of the camera itself is difficult.
"..."
Standing before the dazzling lights, my body stiffens.
If I move like this, I feel like my body would creak.
...L-let's just try something.
Click-!
"Great!"
After taking an awkward pose, the flash pops.
...There's no way it's good, but the photographer says it's good. The others give a thumbs-up too.
Since they do that, even though I know it's a lie, I somehow gain a bit of confidence.
This time... like this?
"Good!"
"Excelente!"
"Cool, so cool!"
I hold the cleats beside my face, hold one in each hand, pretend to tie the laces after putting them on.
Taking the photographer's idea, I hang the tied-together laces around my neck and make a cocky expression too.
My experience doing post-match interviews was somewhat helpful.
Since I've stood in front of the camera a few times.
My body moves on its own.
"Great! This is enough. Let's move to the next outfit!"
However, it doesn't end in one go.
I change into another outfit, get my hair styled again, and go back into shooting.
After finishing several shoots like that...
"Sorry. It's too many, isn't it? This is the last outfit."
"I... wear this?"
"Yes. We need one photo with a more official feel."
Finally, the last outfit.
But unlike the previous outfits, which had been sportswear, the last outfit was something Dad would wear.
Is this called a suit?
"...Uncomfortable."
I've never worn something like this before.
If I'd gone to middle school in Korea, I would have worn a uniform at least, but I've never even worn a uniform.
How did Dad wear such uncomfortable clothes every day?
...But how do you tie this?
"Um, Dad?"
"Hmm?"
"For a moment..."
I call Dad to the room for a moment.
Then Dad bursts into hearty laughter seeing me.
"...What?"
"You have to tuck the shirt into the pants. Stay still."
Ah, right.
Dad personally tucks the protruding shirt into my pants.
And Dad, who neatens my appearance here and there, hangs the necktie I'd been holding in my hand around my neck.
"Watch carefully. You hang the tie about this much here, hold this and turn it..."
Dad ties the necktie himself while explaining, but I don't really get it even after watching.
I probably won't have occasion to wear this anyway, so maybe I don't need to know.
"Done. Go out."
"Yes."
Hoo.
Complicated, so complicated.
It's not for no reason that I like sportswear.
What kind of clothes are hard to put on and uncomfortable to wear after putting them on?
As I grumble and head to the living room.
"...Eek!"
Hearing a strange sound from somewhere, I turn my head to see Jiwoo opening the front door and coming in.
...What the.
She's surprised as if she's seen a ghost.
*
The officials move busily, and the flashes of the large camera pop repeatedly.
"..."
And watching that scene, Kim Jiu sits curled up in a corner of the sofa.
With her mouth covered.
'What the, what the, what the.'
Her surprised heart was still pounding.
She had come to eat dinner together today too, and since the door was open, the moment she opened it and came in without a thought.
It was because Lee Jian, dressed in a suit with his hair styled up, was standing right there.
'Crazy!'
Of course, it was the first time she'd seen him like that since birth, crazy!
She was so surprised she even let out a weird sound.
That's why her mouth was still covered now.
Afraid that weird sound might pop out again.
No, well... she knew Jian was good-looking. His face had been pretty since elementary school, and since he had grown so tall, he looked good even in just sportswear or uniforms.
But seeing him like that, he looked like a completely different person.
In a good way.
So her heart had nearly dropped with a thud.
"...Um, is that for an advertisement or something?"
"Yeah. So they say."
Kim Jiu asks Lee Wonhun quietly.
When Lee Wonhun nods, Kim Jiu looks at Lee Jian again.
As if possessed, she stares for a long time.
Those eyes sparkle brilliantly like jewels.
"Good work! We're all done!"
Eventually, the shoot wraps up.
Lee Jian, who escapes from in front of the camera as if fleeing, sighs and walks over.
Lee Jian pulls down his necktie as if suffocated and glances at Kim Jiu.
"...What's there to gawk at."
"Uh, uh?"
At that, Kim Jiu flusters and answers.
"Well, obviously. I was staring because it's weird. What's with the clothes and hair?"
"...It's weird, right?"
Lee Jian asks, ruffling his hair with his own hand, and Kim Jiu somehow couldn't answer.
And she changes the subject for no reason.
"Food. You haven't eaten yet, right?"
"Yeah."
"Let's eat. Food."
Kim Jiu buries her head and scurries to the kitchen.
Geez... she doesn't know why, but her heart kept thumping loudly.