You Go Two-Way? Then So Do I

College football did not disappoint. It was a game on a whole different dimension from anything I'd ever played.

Thud! Thud!

CRASH!

Whoosh!

Superior execution of schemes, plays calculated down to the last inch. This was no one-man show. No matter how brilliant an individual player might be, the overall level was so elevated that scheming mattered more than ever. And the star power of the quarterbacks seemed to shine brighter still.

This is nothing like high school ball.

I was starting to understand why the kids who flew high in the high school leagues couldn't do a thing once they made it to college. And yet, at the same time, watching game after game gave me a conviction of my own. Sure, the one-man show had gotten harder. But I could make it work.

And so I watched for about three hours. Fortunately, Oklahoma State — the team we'd come to cheer for — took it, 23–13.

"Foxx! Foxx!"

"Let's come back and watch again!"

My siblings, thoroughly satisfied, were still waving their orange towels and singing. Little do you know you'll be trading that orange for red soon enough?

"Jaehyuk, what did you think?"

At Mother's question, everyone turned to look at me — eyes half nerves, half hope.

"They all looked weaker than me."

"PWAHAHA!"

Father burst out laughing at my answer. My siblings looked at me like that's our brother for you, and Mother simply nodded, pleased.

"That's my son. I believe you'll do wonderfully, Jaehyuk."

Of course I will. Whose son do you think I am?

As the orange tide spilled out of the stadium, we headed for the car as well. All that remained now was the state championship. Not that I had any doubts about winning.

Screech—! THUD!

Beep-beep-beep-beep—.

Thump-thump-thump-thump.

The heat rolled off the weight room in waves. Derby High School boasted facilities that ranked among the very best of any high school in Kansas. Last year, drawn into the same district as Wichita North, their playoff hopes had been cruelly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠snuffed out. But this year they'd avenged the slumps of the past and fought their way to the state championship.

"Hooh!"

THUD!

Hopkins slammed the barbell down from his last deadlift, breathing hard. Over the past year, his body had hardened considerably. He now carried himself every bit like a senior — but the fire in his eyes still burned exactly as it had his freshman year.

This time, I win!

Through elementary school, through middle school, and right up until last season's opener, he had always been the best. He'd never once felt that any player his age could handle him — and it had been true. True, he'd lost to Jaehyuk more times than he could count since then. But he never gave up. Never despaired. Never broke. The first defeat had brought crushing loss; the second, the weight of an overwhelming wall. But from the third defeat onward, losing had done nothing but hammer him harder. Defeat was experience — a tempering fire. He had grown tougher and tougher, stronger and stronger. Then came the camp with Jaehyuk, and seven long months. Little by little he'd absorbed the advice Jaehyuk had given him there, until now he possessed instincts like a beast's. He had become a 5-star cornerback no one could stop.

That was why he was confident. Even against Jaehyuk, this time he would win. Without question.

"Cap."

"Hm?"

"The guys are all ready, sir."

"Yeah. Good."

At some point, Hopkins had become the team's captain. He racked the barbell and stepped outside.

"······."

"······."

Derby's players stood in ranks, not a mouth open among them, a stern menace smoldering in the air.

"Day after tomorrow. The state championship — finally."

Hopkins spoke to the gathered players.

"Thank you for grinding through all that brutal training with me. We're going to reap the harvest tomorrow, and I promise you — no one will walk away disappointed."

"Cap, the way you're talking is kinda······."

"······What's wrong with how I talk?"

"Nothing, it's just... different from your usual, I guess."

Hopkins, who'd been working so hard to set the mood, let out a sigh.

"Day after tomorrow, we WIN! Redline? Mateo? Quinton? You confident we can beat 'em?!"

Back in his usual voice and back at full volume, Hopkins bellowed — and the players' eyes flared wide as they answered.

"We're confident, sir!"

"We WILL win!"

"Who are those guys anyway? We'll smash every last one of 'em!"

No exaggeration — these boys had endured a full year of training straight out of hell. Every drill had been built on one assumption: they would face Redline. To stop him, they had marched through an ordeal worthy of professional athletes. The result? Derby High's record this season: a flawless, unblemished run of victories. Two undefeated teams would now collide at the state championship.

"That's it for practice today. Rest up properly tomorrow, then just get loose — don't let the tension drain out of your bodies completely."

"Yes, Cap!"

"Good work, everyone. Let's go write some history!"

"HOOAH!!"

Steve Hopkins, 5-star cornerback. And his stacked, undefeated team. They were ready for victory.

Articles came pouring in. The reaction ran far hotter than last year, and even the teammates showed unmistakable flickers of nerves. Two-thirds of last year's roster had been seniors, so most of this year's squad was experiencing the state championship for the very first time. The coaching staff bustled about, steadying mindsets and handing out motivation.

"You can do this! Who are we?! Wichita North — twenty-three wins, zero losses!"

"As long as we've got the league's all-time leading scorer, we can't lose!"

They've got their work cut out for them.

Game time was now right on top of us. We were waiting in the locker room, and the moment the staff called us, we would pass through the gate and onto the field. The venue — a place I'd never set foot in, even counting last year — was Eggerton High's stadium. It had been chosen for exactly one reason: it had the largest grandstands of any high school in the entire state.

"Wheeew—!"

"WI! CHI! TA!"

"GO! DER-BY! GO!"

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Clap-clap-clap-clap.

Even from inside the locker room, the roar of thousands poured through the walls. The game hadn't even started yet, and the crowd was already in a frenzy. They said a full 11,000 fans had packed the stands to capacity — and only because that was all the seating there was. In a bigger stadium, I figured 15,000 would have shown up without breaking a sweat.

And they all came out just to see me.

Hehe. Feels good.

While I was goofing around like that, someone spoke up beside me.

"Aren't you nervous, Captain?"

"Nervous?"

I turned to find Joseph, a freshman. This kid followed me around with utter devotion — even now, when everyone else trained separately under their position coaches, he insisted on working out with me. Said he looked up to me or something. He'd told me he wanted to play running back, too. Though I did give his form a few corrections just a few days ago.

"Why would I be nervous? We're winning anyway."

"Whoaa."

Joseph marveled at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my answer. I genuinely had no idea what part of it impressed him.

"By the way, how's it going? The stuff I taught you."

"Well, after I cleared it with Coach Jason and Coach Tyrone, I've been getting serious coaching from them."

"Good, good. Throw yourself into it. You're still young — it's the perfect time to try all sorts of things."

Joseph nodded hard at my words. Then a voice cut in from behind.

"Young's still young, though."

I craned my neck back to find Mateo standing there, looking at me all high and mighty, as if he'd just said something profound.

"I'm a senior, you whippersnapper."

"That's one year older than me at best."

"One year is a lot, kid."

As we bickered over something that trivial, the entire team gathered around to spectate. I scrunched my face at them and yelled.

"What are you looking at? Never seen a fight before?"

"Pfft."

"Tee-hee."

And the bastards burst out laughing. Great. Do I need to whip the discipline back into shape? So much for my authority as captain······.

"Nice work there, Jaehyuk."

"Alright, boys — feeling looser now? Let's go have ourselves a good one today."

With the coaches' encouragement, the event staff soon entered the locker room.

"Time to take the field!"

We rose from our spots and fell in behind Coach Sanders at the head of the line.

"Hoo—h."

"Haaah. Ssssh."

There they went, getting nervous again. Can't say I blamed them, though.

It reminds me of our first game.

I used to get nervous back then too. Ah, those green, green days······.

"RUN!"

As the field came into view dead ahead, Sanders roared and took off at a sprint. Right on his heels I ran alongside, and the players behind us came streaming after.

"WAAAAAAAH!!"

"Come on! Come on, boys!"

"LET'S GO! HOOOAAAH!!"

Each of us howling our own battle cry as we stormed onto the field — and from every direction, the cheers came pouring down.

"KYAAAAAA!!"

"WICHITA NORTH! GO!!!"

"Let's run wild again today!"

"VICTORY IS OURS!!"

The marching band's blare and the roar of the crowd. Smaller in scale than the college game I'd watched in person, but the heat of it felt far, far greater.

"Whew."

I took a deep breath and looked around. This game would be the last of my high school career. I felt no fear of losing. Victory was simply the natural order of things — nobody in this place could stop me.

And then, suddenly — amid the sea of eyes fixed on us, one gaze alone pricked at my skin like the point of a blade. I turned my head. It was coming from the Derby sideline, where they'd entered before us.

"Hopkins."

Every single player on the enemy team was glaring daggers at us. And there stood Hopkins — a face I had long since memorized — staring straight at me. A body that had clearly grown since last we met. That same infuriating smirk.

Pfft.

This'll be fun.

So — can you actually stop me this time?

"Captains to midfield!"

The coin toss followed — and we managed to take the defer.

"Nice one, Cap!"

"Defense first!"

"First defer in forever — and in the championship, no less!"

"Can't believe the butterfingers captain finally won a coin toss······."

Back at the bench, the teammates each took their shot at me. Yeah, yeah, very funny. In any case, with us deferring, my showdown with Hopkins would have to wait a little longer.

— Or so I thought.

"Hm?"

"What the—"

Suddenly the coaches were all startled. A moment later, I felt every one of them staring at the field in shock. Following their eyes, I looked — and there was Hopkins, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the man we'd all assumed would play defense only, lined up at wide receiver.

Last game of his career, so he's planning to dump every last ounce of stamina on the field?!

Well, that one had caught me off guard. Then I noticed everyone turning to look at me, belatedly.

"What."

"······."

A silent pressure. No one said a word, but the teammates and coaches still wouldn't take their eyes off me. Even Sanders was staring.

"You want me out there too?"

"You up for it?"

Tyrone asked.

What exactly does this man take me for······.

"Obviously!"

Hopkins, you hilarious bastard. So that's how you want to play it.

Fine. I'll show you what a real cornerback looks like.

"And here we go — Wichita North opens the game on defense, having deferred!"

"They've taken the defer just once all season, haven't they? Their coin-toss skills clearly can't keep pace with their football skills. Haha."

"Hm? Ryan, wait — don't tell me Hopkins is lining up on offense?"

"Steve Hopkins? Oh! He is! Hopkins is genuinely taking his place at wide receiver!"

The live broadcast of the KSHSAA Football state championship. With a record-shattering 50,000 viewers packed in, the most-watched broadcast in league history rolled on — and 5-star cornerback Steve Hopkins was switching positions. No — he was attempting a Two-Way Player play.

With the online chat ablaze, all eyes turned to how Wichita North would ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠answer.

"Wichita North is famous for its dazzling offensive lineup."

"That's right. On the flip side, though, their defense is widely considered rather ordinary — and if this keeps up, Derby is going to have a serious headache on their hands."

"Uh—?! The very moment I say it!! Redline, the captain of Wichita North, is starting to grab his gear!"

"No — no way! It can't be?! Wait, hold on······!!!"

The broadcast booth filled with gasps and shouts — but beneath the shock lay astonishment, delight, and a surging wave of anticipation. And when Redline rose, put on his helmet, and began walking onto the field······ a tidal wave of cheers came crashing down.

"GWAAAAAAAH!!"

"REDLINE!! HOLY SHIIIIIT!!"

"A TWO-WAY SHOWDOWN!! This is EXACTLY what a state championship is supposed to look like!!"

"SMASH 'EM TO PIECEEEES!!"

The stadium's roar bled straight into the broadcast feed — that's how scorching the atmosphere was.

"Ohhh! Coach Sanders is requesting a position change from the referee!!"

"He's really doing it! You go two-way, then so do I! This is the moment Redline becomes a cornerback!!"