U20 World Cup (5)
A thunderous roar filled the stadium — South Korea standing in stark contrast to a Japan sunk in despair.
The performance and the scoreline had been so overwhelming that some people were genuinely worried about how the Japanese U20 players would even face going home.
Seven to zero. Seven to zero.
Even without the Korea-Japan rivalry, that score would have drawn vicious criticism. Because it was a Korea-Japan match, the condemnation waiting for them was the kind no one could even put into words.
As the heat of the moment gradually cooled and players began filtering one by one into the locker room, reporters approached Baek Yujin — the star of the match — for an interview.
Baek Yujin had never given an interview before.
He always vanished into the locker room before anyone could even ask.
But strangely, today, he had stayed out on the pitch.
"Ah, sure. That's fine."
He nodded as if he had been waiting for exactly this, then followed the reporters toward the interview zone.
The moment Baek Yujin appeared in the interview zone for the first time, comments flooded in live.
An interview with the most popular person right now — and his first one, no less. Of course it was going to be electric.
"…"
The reporter, staring at Baek Yujin grinning expectantly, lost his words for a moment before quickly composing himself and opening his mouth.
"Baek Yujin, you just secured a 7–0 thrashing of Japan and scored a hat-trick at the same time. How do you feel?"
A reaction to winning a Korea-Japan match. After a 7–0 demolition, there was no way they couldn't ask the man of the hour.
"I think my teammates did really well. Especially Seoin hyung and Seonwoo — they kept feeding me great passes."
Rather than elevating his own performance, he lifted up everyone else.
People said things like that, and he figured it was far better than being arrogant.
"How did you feel when Yuichi first came in with that tackle?"
"At first I was a little mad he didn't apologize."
Unless a sin was truly unforgivable, he believed a single apology could soften most things. The problem was that Yuichi had apologized far too late.
"From the middle of the match I was just enjoying the football, so I don't really know. Oh — and Yuichi did apologize to me at halftime, so please don't go around trash-talking him for no reason."
As he continued handling the interview with surprising ease, a sudden question popped into Baek Yujin's mind.
Why did I agree to this interview again?
He thought for a second, then remembered.
Right. Because everyone treats me like the baby of the team.
It wasn't that he hated being treated like the youngest. The problem was that everyone did it.
Just before the reporters could leave, Baek Yujin thought as fast as he could and opened his mouth.
"Baek Yujin, thank you for the valuable interview."
"Ah — one more thing."
Baek Yujin tugged a microphone a little closer.
"Everyone, I am not the baby of the team. I don't need a lot of looking after, and I handle things just fine on my own. So."
He continued with grave seriousness.
"Please stop treating me like the baby."
In his own mind, it was a perfectly sincere threat.
Having said everything he needed to say, Baek Yujin glanced around, spotted Hong Seoin, waved, and ran over to him.
As always, he was beaming.
"Seoin hyung! Let's go together!"
The cameras were still rolling, so the whole scene went out live to the viewers.
They say the world never goes the way you want it to.
The media's reaction went in exactly the opposite direction of what Baek Yujin had hoped for.
Baek Yujin of the U20 national team, who led a 7–0 rout in the Korea-Japan match, used a post-match interview to voice his dissatisfaction with how the media has been treating him.
(abridged)
Remarks such as "Please stop treating me like the baby" suggested considerable frustration with being cast as the team's youngest.
However, after watching the interview footage, the press responded with comments like "adorable," "now I get why he's the baby," and "I'd look after him too."
"Haa…"
These media people seemed to be waiting for my mental fortitude to completely collapse.
I had no idea how my nickname had become "our Yujin."
It felt like something that had half-spawned out of people teasing me online, but I didn't really hate it.
It meant people were paying attention to me, after all.
There was no way I could dislike that.
At this rate, "Young Noble" is going to start showing up too.
I just gave up and opened SNS.
This time I made sure not to forget — I checked the mentions from current Arsenal players first.
…They're actually there?
About six Arsenal players had mentioned my SNS. A few players from other clubs had too.
Huh? What's this?
While checking the comments on my latest post, I found something strange.
"Smiling Baek Yujin"?
Skimming the thread, it was about how I'd gone expressionless after getting tackled in the Korea-Japan match, then started smiling and proceeded to completely dominate the game.
I smile every day, just like that post said.
There's no reason not to, and smiling feels far better than being gloomy.
Honestly, every single day of my life right now is happy.
That doesn't mean it interferes with my performance on the pitch, though.
I thought I played pretty much the same…
All I'd really done was orchestrate from midfield in place of Hong Seoin and press the opposing defenders with the attack. That was the only difference, if anything.
Bzzzt— Bzzzt—
"Hm?"
Startled by the sudden call, I still picked up.
"Hello?"
"Hello? Our Yujin, you're doing well, right?"
"…I'm hanging up."
"Hehe. Sorry."
This noona only ever called to tease me.
"Why'd you call?"
"Do I need a reason? I just wanted to hear your voice. Your leg's okay, right?"
"Yeah. I didn't get hurt."
My leg was fine. The tackle had been bad enough to worry about, sure, but I'd managed to dodge it as cleanly as I could.
"I'm so glad. The semis are tomorrow, right?"
"Yeah, tomorrow. Oh — I still get that wish, right? Hm?"
"Hehe. Of course. Win tomorrow and I'll give you another one."
"What's gotten into you?"
"Just because. A reward for working so hard."
"…Alright. If I lose, I'll give you one."
"Got it."
You could call it a flag.
But this is how I see it.
Flags are there to be broken.
Just keep scoring goals the way I always do, and that would be that.
Our semifinal opponent was the United States, riding the full home-crowd buff.
The boos that erupted the second I touched the ball — how do I put it.
It made me instinctively not want to run.
That was the advantage of a home game, and the burden every away player had to carry.
Nothing to be done about it.
So I showed the people filling over ninety percent of the stands exactly what I needed to show them.
That a player named Baek Yujin could not be stopped by mere booing.
A counterattack situation.
Thump—!
Han Seonwoo's pass sailed long into the space behind the American defense.
As Seong Yumin sprinted after the ball that had drifted out toward the flank, I charged into the box.
A fair amount of booing reached Seong Yumin's ears, but he ignored it and collected the ball.
Tap.
He beat the closing defender with a body feint, scissors, then whipped in a cross.
I jumped and trapped the dropping ball between the tops of my feet.
A shot won't work from here.
I'd taken it this way out of curiosity, but linking it into a shot looked unrealistic.
I'd already been scanning my surroundings, so without looking I dropped the ball from my right foot toward my left and back-heeled the pass.
Hong Seoin drove a low shot toward the goal.
Low and fast as it was, the keeper — already set after reading the plant foot — got a hand to it.
The rebound dropped in an awkward spot for the keeper to claim, and just as the center-back moved to clear it—
Thud—!
I, already in a better position than any of them, got there first and struck it.
From that close, no one could react. The ball buried itself in the corner of the net.
In that moment I realized something: being cheered by a huge crowd is wonderful — but being cheered by just a few people is wonderful too.
That's another wish ticket earned.
The semifinal against the United States ended 1–0.
Looking back on that match, it was our first real crisis.
A perfect lesson in just how terrifying an away game can be.
I'd just have to think of it as getting a head start on future experience.
"The final is against England, right?"
"Yeah. England."
"…So France must have lost."
The France–England matchup had been so evenly matched that no one could have predicted the winner.
It was a little disappointing that I wouldn't get to see Pierre again — I'd last seen him just last week.
But there was no time for that now.
Time to go practice.
We still had one last training session before the final.
I hope this future changes.
Holding on to that sliver of hope.