Training (2)
From that day on, Coach Ryu Ilhae made time every day to talk tactics. Alongside the training sessions, the formation settled firmly on a 4-3-3.
From my perspective, that came with a bit of pressure.
A lone striker had to be capable of just about everything.
Fortunately, Coach Ryu Ilhae was never the type to cling to a single system. He listened to the players and kept drawing up new approaches. You could feel the sincerity in every one of them — tactics that never treated the squad as disposable pieces. Every time he spoke, you could sense how carefully he had thought through the best way to use each player. Anyone watching would have recognized them as good tactics.
He's something else.
I was starting to understand why the seniors trusted him so completely. Ability and character both — of course they did. My affection for Seongil High only grew.
I found the tactical talk more interesting than I expected. It clicked easily, too — maybe because I was in the starting lineup. From what the seniors told me, the coach kept an open mind; if a player's suggestion seemed better, he would change the plan.
Interesting.
With the practice match against Seowon High drawing close, the group chat lit up — my friends who had gone to Seowon must have heard the news. Most of it, admittedly, was Seong Yumin alone spouting nonsense like, Should I casually bag a hat trick?
"…This is so annoying."
"Haha."
Han Seonwoo was already seething on the bench first thing in the morning, before we had even started warming up — all because Seong Yumin had been needling him in the chat since dawn.
Does that guy actually hold a grudge or something?
The teasing was funny if you knew them, but to a stranger it would have looked like genuine bad blood.
"Coach is here. Let's just train."
"…Fine."
By now the routine was familiar: laps around the track, ladder drills to loosen up, then individual work tailored to each player. Being morning, we did not train as a full unit. The ones who needed to bulk up hit the weights under a coach's direction; the rest ran passing drills or whatever the head coach assigned.
"Hyung, have you ever tried dribbling?"
In my case, that meant one-on-ones with Do Woojun — whom I now called hyung. I did not dribble much, so I was asking for advice. According to the coach, Seowon would field several first-years in the practice match. Kim Minjun would almost certainly be among them, so this was preparation for facing him.
"You're asking me that? You should be asking Seonwoo — he used to play wing."
"Mm. Fair point."
I nodded, checked what Han Seonwoo was doing, then looked back at Do Woojun. When I did, he glanced the same way I had, then turned back just as quickly.
"Just us, then?"
"Yeah. Let's just do it."
Where Han Seonwoo was standing, he was deep in weight work for stamina and muscle. If we wandered over, we would probably get roped in. No need to go looking for extra suffering.
"Here I come, then."
"Come at me easy."
I opened up some space, then closed it again, tapping the ball lightly with the outside of my foot.
How am I supposed to do this?
Do Woojun's defending was good enough that you could already call him a pro without embarrassment. I had felt that firsthand last week, when he had been assigned to mark me exclusively for the other side. Tall, sharp in the tackle — he was like a wall. A wall that never flinched at any kind of touch, just stood there solid.
Tap.
"You look like you're overthinking it."
"Ah—"
While I was still thinking, Do Woojun stretched out a foot. I was too slow to react, and he stripped the ball clean.
"Why so little confidence?"
"I just don't dribble much."
"Don't dribble much? Hmm… Ah. Right — you mostly one-touch pass and shoot, don't you?"
"Yes."
Part of it was that passing was often the better option. The bigger part was simply a lack of confidence.
"But you were already that good?"
"Uh… yeah, pretty much."
"Wow. You're even more ridiculous than I thought. Among your friends, besides Seonwoo, isn't there one who's really good at dribbling?"
"Yumin? The one who went to Seowon."
"Yeah, that sounds right. Him. Think about how he does it and dribble like that. Confidently, the same way. You can do it."
Do Woojun passed the ball straight back, opened the distance again, and crooked his fingers in a come-on gesture.
"…Alright. Coming."
I closed the gap the same way as before, tapping with the outside of my foot, and pulled Seong Yumin's play into my head.
He doesn't actually use that many moves.
He could do almost anything, but in real matches he only used a handful. Body feints, inside-outside dribbles, La Croqueta — the phantom dribble. Only what was efficient.
What surfaced instead was last weekend, when Seong Yumin and Kim Minjun had gotten bored and gone one-on-one.
He used a flip-flap.
For some reason that particular piece of skill kept circling in my mind. I could do a flip-flap myself. Back in middle school, Seong Yumin had asked me:
— Yujin, can you do scissors and flip-flaps and stuff? With your touch, I bet you'd be good at dribbling too.
— No idea. I don't really dribble.
— No way. You can do it. Dribbling's basically the same as trapping. Come on, I'll teach you.
Dragged along against my will, I had taken a few tips, practiced, and landed it almost immediately. Future national-team Seong Yumin's verdict: if someone who trapped the ball as well as I did claimed he could not dribble, it only meant he could do it and simply lacked the confidence.
I can do this.
If I failed, was anyone going to yell at me for it?
Confidence settling in, I closed to a workable distance and deliberately stepped wrong, a dummy. Do Woojun did not so much as twitch; he held his ground. Exactly as expected. Fully locked in, I gave the ball a short push forward — Do Woojun kept the gap and dropped his lead foot back.
Now.
The timing Seong Yumin used for a flip-flap was the moment a defender switched feet. This was it. I sold the move to the right with a light outside touch, then snapped the ball inside with the instep.
"…!"
A clean, confident flip-flap. Startled by the skill, Do Woojun still stayed composed and stretched for the ball the instant I entered his range — but the La Croqueta that followed the flip-flap took him cleanly past.
"…"
Beating a defender with actual dribbling instead of my usual deceptive trapping left me with a strange, floating feeling.
It actually worked.
I had not truly expected it to. I had only dribbled with the belief that I could. Maybe dribbling and trapping really were that close after all.
I looked back. Do Woojun was standing there with a blank expression.
"Hyung, I did it."
"…Wow. You can actually pull that off?"
"Huh?"
"Never mind. You're a genius. Still — don't just copy moves straight. Dribble creatively."
"Uh… okay."
Some odd misunderstanding seemed to have taken root, but I let it go. I was a little overwhelmed by what felt like my first real successful dribble.
"Noona, do you know Do Woojun hyung?"
"Isn't he on the soccer team?"
"Yeah. I beat him with a dribble."
"I heard he's good. Really?"
"Yeah."
"Heh. Well done."
I must have been too pleased with myself — I chattered the whole way down the hallway about everything that had happened that morning, even though Jia noona barely knew soccer. What was I even doing?
Lunch period. Right now her hand was steering me toward the chairman's office.
Two weeks, maybe?
I had seen him once during break and not since. I ran into Mother fairly often, but Father's schedule never seemed to line up. Being summoned out of nowhere was a little strange, but I doubted it was anything serious. Probably.
Knock knock.
"Coming in."
The door creaked open. The chairman's office on campus smelled, as always, sharply of coffee.
"Hello."
"Yes. Sit down in front of me."
Jia noona and I sat side by side across from her father — Lee Woojin.
"Why'd you call us?"
"I wanted to see you. Is that a problem?"
"What about work?"
"Ahem. More importantly, Yujin — any trouble with soccer?"
Caught cleanly, Father shifted his gaze to me.
"The coach is great, and so are the players."
"Good to hear. I understand you have a practice match this week?"
"Ah, yes. Against Seowon High."
What was this? That odd sense of déjà vu while we talked…
Father cleared his throat, then opened his mouth with expectant eyes.
"Ahem. Seowon High… you will win, won't you?"
"…"
Come to think of it, Father was serious about soccer. He poured maximum interest and support into Seongil's team, and he watched overseas leagues every single day. For him to say that, though…
…If we lose, does that mean no marriage?
Somehow a weight of pressure had just landed on my shoulders.
"Dad. Why are you putting pressure on him?"
Thankfully, Jia noona stepped in.
"When did I put pressure on him? Someone at Yujin's level ought to beat Seowon."
"Suddenly 'our Yujin'? You never used to talk like that."
"Ahem. I have nothing to say to that."
While the two of them talked, my head filled with a garden of flowers.
I do need to get married, though.
I still remembered how beautiful her smile had been that day. Maybe we should marry a little earlier this time? I wanted to see that smile again soon. She had waited for me — it should be possible.
"Noona."
"Hm? What?"
"Want to get married?"
…Okay, that was not what I had meant to say out loud. Still, I felt no particular urge to take it back.
"…"
Jia noona stared blankly into my eyes, as if she must have misheard.
"Get marri—"
The moment I tried to say it again, she clamped a hand over my mouth.
"…Can we talk about this later?"
She was trying to sound as casual as possible, but her ears had gone red with embarrassment.
…She smells nice.
Suddenly this close, I could only enjoy the scent of her.
"Mmph."
I nodded to show I understood, and she slowly took her hand away. The proposal had been sincere — I just had not planned to deliver it like that. It had come out the way you say I love you.
"Haha."
Father only laughed as he watched us.
"Yujin, it makes me happy to see you happy."
"…"
"Just make sure you beat Seowon."
"Yes."
Roughly speaking, I could take that as permission contingent on beating Seowon, right?
"Noona, let's go."
"…Okay."
When enough time had passed, I stood and drew her up by the hand I was still holding. Her head stayed bowed; she still looked embarrassed. Looking like that in the hallway would seem a little odd… but she was cute, so maybe it did not matter.
"We'll be going now."
"Yes. See you again soon."
Once we were out of the chairman's office, Jia noona lifted her head at once and asked,
"Yujin, were you serious?"
"About what?"
"About getting married."
"Of course I was serious."
I met her eyes without a flicker. She said nothing and simply walked ahead.
"Noona? Where are you going?"
"…Classroom."
The quiet way she said it suggested she was a little sulky. Even I had to admit that confessing in front of her father had not been ideal.
"There's still time left. I was wrong~ Come hang out with me."
"I have to study."
"Hmm… Do you hate me?"
"…"
Without a word she turned her head and went into her classroom. I could not very well follow her into a room full of second-years.
I wondered if she would stay mad, but luckily, when I told her on the way home that I would grant her a wish, we made up immediately.
She's not going to ask for anything weird… right?
And so, with new pressure, new responsibility, and more practice stacked on top of everything else, a few days passed — and the day of the practice match against Seowon High finally arrived.