Luna (1)
"Ah! I told you, it's nothing! Stop annoying me!" Luna shrieked when we met at the hotel.
She was acting exactly like the Luna in Luka's memories. If it had been the old Luka, he would have immediately started swearing and picked a fight. Seeing this made me realize my worries from a few days ago weren't entirely baseless.
But something was definitely off. Having gone through my own share of dark times, I could tell she was desperately trying to put on a brave face.
Back when I was struggling with my injury, whenever Joo Cheol-hyung asked if I was okay, I always brushed it off just like Luna, insisting I was fine. And she wasn't the only one forcing a brave face.
"Luka, how is life in England? Your father told me you're doing well, but..." Even Mother, as she asked how I was doing, seemed to have a lingering sadness in her eyes.
Tsk. Is something really going on at home? With Father and me—the only two men in the house—away in England, it was entirely possible they were struggling with various things.
Well, Father was planning to return to Japan after July once I signed my contract, but as one of the men of the family, I felt like I needed to pay Japan a visit too.
Mother was probably just a bit lonely without Father, but if Luna was having trouble, maybe someone around her age like me could help resolve it.
Well, the worries of a teenage girl are pretty predictable. At most, a boyfriend issue? I should go over there and set things straight.
This punk Luka had never acted like a proper older brother in his entire life, so I figured I should take this opportunity to step up.
"Father. Let's go back to Japan together after this match."
"...What about school?"
"Come on, taking a week off is fine. I'm graduating soon anyway."
"Sigh..." Father clutched his head at the mention of going to Japan after the Europa League final, but he didn't actually object.
Arsenal's pre-season training camp was scheduled for the second week of July. Since the school term also ended in early July, there wouldn't be much time to visit Japan once I signed the contract and headed straight to training camp.
It seemed Father also agreed that now, during the post-season break, was the perfect time to return to Japan.
"Luka, don't go causing trouble once we're back in Japan."
"Hey, did I cause any trouble here in England?"
"Well, that's true... but still. Even if reporters come looking for you, absolutely, under no circumstances, do not react. Got it?"
Ugh. Just hearing the word 'reporters' made my calves throb, reminding me of the whipping I'd received a while back. I had never been beaten like that in my past life.
Perhaps it was because this era was still a bit old-fashioned, or maybe because Father had played professionally during those rougher times, but getting whipped on the calves for the first time in my life had hurt like hell.
"Yes, sir!" Well, I just had to be careful while in Japan. Besides, Father would be staying in Japan permanently once my contract was finalized anyway.
"Ugh, why are you coming back too?"
"Just because." Luna got a bit annoyed when she heard from Father that I was returning to Japan, but it wasn't a big deal.
Far more important than Luna's whining was the upcoming Europa League final against Chelsea, with a ticket to next season's Champions League on the line. Before entering the stadium, I saw the massive crowds of Arsenal and Chelsea fans filling the streets.
And among them, the Arsenal fans looked far more desperate. Even back when I was playing in Japan in my past life, Arsenal was a team that had never won a European trophy. It was the same in this world.
Even if it was 'only' the Europa League, the club's first-ever European trophy and a Champions League spot were on the line. This match was of paramount importance.
Yeah, at the very least, we have to make it to the Champions League. Unlike my past life, qualifying for the Champions League by finishing in the top four of the Premier League—a league teeming with active superstars—was like plucking a star from the sky.
Seeing how last year's Premier League champions, Man City, finished fifth and crashed out of the Champions League to end up in the Europa League, it was painfully obvious how brutal the competition was.
Wait, didn't a Premier League team win the Champions League this season? I think it was either Liverpool or Man City... Is time flowing normally now that I've become Luka?
For context, the Champions League final was scheduled between Real Madrid and Bayern Munich. In La Liga, Barcelona had won the title by a single point over their rivals.
In the Premier League, the top four were Manchester United, Liverpool, Tottenham, and Chelsea, in that order. In Serie A, the top four were AC Milan, Juventus, Roma, and Inter. And in the Bundesliga, Munich had won, as they always did.
The 18-19 season took place when I was only in the first or second grade in my past life. I had only briefly read about that season while looking up Messi's records; there was no way I could remember exactly which team won what back then. Because of that, I was actually looking forward to this Champions League final.
Please let Munich win...! Since Ronaldo, who had led his team to three consecutive Champions League titles, had his filthy name engraved on the 2018 Ballon d'Or, the thing I wanted even more than Arsenal's Europa League victory and Champions League qualification was for Munich to win the Champions League final in a few days.
I absolutely could not stand by and watch Ronaldo achieve a four-peat and snatch his third Ballon d'Or. Ronaldo had scored 46 goals, beating Messi's 41 to secure the La Liga top scorer title, and with 16 goals in the Champions League, he was practically guaranteed the UCL Golden Boot.
However, since Barcelona had won the league, as long as Ronaldo didn't win the Champions League, his season would be considered a failure. (Messi's sheer footballing genius was on another level, so everyone knew that even without trophies, just watching him play and display his skills made it a legendary season. But for Ronaldo, no matter how many goals he scored, a trophyless season was still a failure.)
Everyone who knew football saw things the same way. If Munich could just block Ronaldo's four-peat, Messi would easily claim his fifth Ballon d'Or.
Wait, but if Messi already wins five, it's going to be harder for me to surpass him...
I wavered for a moment between my devotion to my idol and my own career goals, but still, seeing that bastard Ronaldo's dirty name on the Ballon d'Or trophy again was something I absolutely could not tolerate.
"Luka?"
"Yes?"
"Let's go in."
While I was lost in thought, our turn had apparently come, and Father called out to me.
"Mother, Luna. I'm telling you one last time, this is the Arsenal fan section, so absolutely do not cheer for Chelsea. Got it?" I gave them one final warning.
Even up until my professional career in my past life, despite a few failures, Mourinho's popularity in Portugal was sky-high. Moreover, in this timeline, Mourinho had been managing Chelsea continuously since his second stint, making him practically a national hero in Portugal.
It wouldn't even be strange to hear someone say, 'If you're Portuguese, please support Mourinho!' Since both of them had Portuguese blood, I repeatedly warned them, fearing they might cheer for Mourinho's Chelsea.
Even if they had mastered Taekwondo, the martial art with the soul of Korea, it would be impossible to win against hundreds of surrounding Arsenal fans.
"Of course I have to cheer for my son's team," Mother replied with a gentle smile, while Luna simply flipped me off.
Well, I probably don't need to worry. No matter how immature Luna was, she wouldn't be stupid enough to cheer for Chelsea in a sea of red Arsenal shirts. At any rate, we took our seats, and before long, the match kicked off.
Whoa, look at how nervous Saka is. I could see Saka, who had been included in the squad to replace Van Persie (who had a cracked shin), warming up.
Having trained with him for a month or two, I could tell he was stiff with tension. Why a guy who probably wouldn't even get subbed on was so nervous was anyone's guess.
Tsk, if it weren't for my age, I would've been in that spot. No, wait, not there, but over there? Shifting my gaze from Saka, I looked at Walcott and Ljungberg.
They didn't seem particularly nervous. Although they would be my competitors starting next year, I hoped they would play well today for the sake of my future Champions League debut.
Prrrrt! After watching the players warm up and sitting through the pre-match ceremonies, the opening whistle finally blew.
Just two minutes into the match, Bergkamp's shot was parried by Cech, only for Henry to pounce on the rebound and slot it home. 1-0.
Around the 10th minute, Chelsea's ace Hazard sent in a cross to Willian, whose shot was saved by Leno, but Lampard made a late run into the penalty box to smash in the equalizer. 1-1.
Then, in the 17th minute, Walcott scrambled the ball into the net during a chaotic corner kick situation, putting Arsenal back in the lead. But that lead didn't last long. In the 25th minute of the first half, Hazard delivered a free kick, and Essien headed it in to level the score once more.
After that, the match settled into a lull, but the midfield battle between Fabregas-Vieira and Lampard-Ballack, along with Essien trying to contain Bergkamp, was a nail-biting spectacle. It was also highly entertaining to watch the defense get shredded by Hazard, Cole shutting down Ljungberg, and Azpilicueta locking down Walcott.
But the absolute highlight of the match was the clash between Terry and Henry, and Campbell and Drogba. When Campbell and Drogba collided, it was a pure clash of physical titans, and Terry's defensive masterclass in stopping Henry's dribbles with perfectly timed tackles was utterly mesmerizing.
Even though the game had slowed down at 2-2, it was a match that even neutral fans could watch with bated breath.
"Hey, when is another goal coming? It was fun at first, but now it's boring."
"You call this boring?"
"They're just passing the ball around. Nobody's shooting."
"Sigh..." It was a match so gripping you couldn't take your eyes off it for a single second, and I felt a wave of pity for Luna, who knew nothing about football. I'll have to teach her a thing or two about football later.
Perhaps as if answering Luna's complaints, in the 70th minute of the second half, Henry received a pass from Bergkamp, bypassed Terry with a sublime touch, and finally scored the team's third goal.
With the third goal secured, Arsenal shifted to a defensive setup, while Chelsea subbed off defensive midfielder Essien for Pedro as an attacking midfielder, launching a fierce onslaught.
However, with only 30 seconds left in stoppage time, Walcott utilized his blistering pace to launch a counterattack, netting the team's fourth goal.
I could easily do that. Aside from poaching a goal during a corner kick, Walcott had been completely pocketed by Azpilicueta the entire match. Seeing him score his second goal made me feel a pang of regret, thinking that if I had been out there, I could have put the game to bed much sooner.
Still, seeing the Arsenal players shed tears of joy as they celebrated the club's first-ever European trophy after the final whistle, I couldn't help but applaud.
By the way, who actually won the Europa League this season in my past life? The 18-19 season was twenty years before the final season I played in. No one in the world could possibly remember who won the Europa League twenty years ago and who they played against, so of course, nothing came to mind.
Well, not like it matters. Indeed, it wasn't important. What mattered was the clear confirmation that the football world in this timeline was different from my past life. Seeing Arsenal, a team that had never won a European trophy in my past life, lift the Europa League cup meant the timeline had shifted significantly.
And that's what makes it more exciting. It was similar to my past life, yet completely unpredictable—a brand-new football world where Arsenal could actually win a European title.
On top of that, watching legends I had only ever heard of or met as coaches clash on the pitch as if their lives depended on it was truly spectacular. I felt even more thrilled now than when I first woke up as Luka.
Just wait. I'll be joining you soon. It would only be about a month before I stepped onto that very stage.
"...Football is actually pretty fun." It seemed I wasn't the only one who enjoyed the match; Luna, sitting next to me, muttered softly.
Despite having thrown a tantrum when I dragged her along to watch, today's match was spectacular enough to satisfy even me, so it must have left quite an impression on her as well.
"Right? Is this your first time watching a match live?"
"Well, I watched Dad's matches and your matches a bit when we were younger... but this is on a completely different level."
"Of course. This is the highest level... well, not quite the absolute peak, but just one or two steps below it."
"So you're going to play in a place like that too?"
"Yeah. Just you wait. I'll make it so that whenever you mention your name, people will gasp and ask, 'Are you really Player Luka's sister?'"
"...They already know that." Well, before that, I had to head back to Japan to sort out whatever was causing that lonely look on her face.
And so, we arrived in Japan.
"Aaaargh!"
...Just two days after arriving in Japan, I broke my promise to Father not to cause trouble and was forced to throw a punch.