The Genius Who Doesn't Know Himself
The next morning.
I'd stayed up until dawn watching middle-school tournament footage, so I woke up late.
Stumbling out into the living room, I found a plastic container of sandwiches on the table with a note stuck to it.
Yujin, you'll be starving after morning training — eat up once you're done.
"Oh."
Looking closer, it seemed Jia had gotten up early to make them before heading out. Maintaining top-of-the-school grades left her with barely any free time, yet she still thought of me. I was genuinely grateful.
It wasn't empty talk — I really did want to make her the happiest person in the world.
I tucked the sandwiches into the bag by the door and checked my phone.
Goal Wrapper — 3 missed calls
"…Goal Wrapper?"
I scratched my head, trying to place the name.
"Is this… Han Seonwoo?"
Hmm. Thinking it over, that seemed right, so I opened the messages.
Thankfully, it had only been two minutes. He'd need time to get here anyway, so if I washed up and headed out right away, the timing should work out roughly.
I sent the message and went straight to the shower. There was still some leeway, so I didn't rush.
"Why are you coming out so late?"
"Sorry."
In the end, I'd made Han Seonwoo wait a little after all.
Yeah… no matter how I look at it, "Goal Wrapper" is not it.
Feeling a twinge of guilt over the saved name, I changed it to "Seonwoo." While I was at it, I fixed the others too. Terminal Middle-School Syndrome, Crack Wannabe, Quote Maker — seeing those bizarre names made my skin crawl.
What is this? Did I have a personality problem?
Hmm. My personality was fine, actually.
Chatting about everything from "What are we training today?" onward, we arrived at Seongil High's field. Unlike yesterday, the upperclassmen from the football club were already there, training.
…Are they just messing around?
It was the first morning of the club, so everyone seemed to be doing whatever they felt like. We sat on the bench first, changed into our boots, loosened up with some light stretching, then approached Coach Ryu Ilhae.
"Yujin, Seonwoo. Morning is individual training — get as close as you can with the other players."
"Yes, sir. Understood."
I said I understood, but getting close felt like a stretch. I'd try my best, but if they shut us out, there was nothing I could do.
Well… they probably won't shut us out.
In my past life, Han Seonwoo's face had never once looked dark, so it was probably fine. The guy had steel nerves when it came to football, but his mental game was oddly fragile when it came to people. Still, there was no knowing how things would actually play out.
With that in mind, we headed over to where everyone was gathered.
"Baek Yujin… isn't he the middle-school league MVP?"
"Trapping's his specialty? So he can take pretty much any ball?"
"Hyung, that kid traps his shots too."
"Han Seonwoo? You two came from the same middle school, right?"
"You're the midfielder from yesterday? Your buildup was solid."
"Ah, yes. Thank you."
"…"
My worries had been unfounded.
So that's why Father said it would be good if I came here.
Not everyone was friendly, though. Off in the distance, a few people were watching us with indifferent eyes. The fact that the looks weren't negative was already a relief.
"You pass well? Then can you hit that too?"
"Y-yes?"
"Quit picking on the freshmen."
I stayed fairly composed, but Han Seonwoo was flustered under the barrage of questions when a tall senior stepped in and lightly mediated.
"I just broke up a mess over there, and it's chaos here too."
Where he pointed, the other first-years were also getting grilled and looking awkward. The senior looked at me, eyebrows lifting as if he'd just made a discovery, and pursed his lips.
"Oh. From the rumors alone I pictured some arrogant young master, but looking at you, you're pretty much the baby of the group."
"Rumors?"
"Yeah. People were going on about you being some kind of noble."
"Ah…"
I didn't hate the "noble" nickname, but it was still a little embarrassing.
"May I ask who you are, senior?"
"Me? Third-year, football club captain — Do Woojun. Center-back."
I'd heard the name. Do Woojun. From the U-20s all the way to the men's senior national team — I knew of him.
So he was a Seongil High graduate.
That was news to me.
Then this U-20 cycle…
South Korea had completely tanked at the U-20s once. Not a little — the kind of collapse anyone could see. During Do Woojun's U-20 days, several players had gone down to rough play in a friendly. With others already injured, the team never hit full match fitness, and the coach and association had taken a mountain of abuse over player management.
How would it go this life?
"Nice to meet you."
Still, if it was Do Woojun, staying on good terms was the smart move. He seemed cheerful enough, too.
"But for real — you can trap shots?"
"As long as it's not some ridiculous shot, yes."
"Really? Yoonwoo! One shot!"
"Yes!"
And so I trapped shots, Seonwoo dribbled, and the other first-years spent the time showing off skills like it was playtime.
"How do you even trap like that?"
Do Woojun asked, clearly curious.
"I just worked at it."
"Hmm. Work hard enough and you could fly, huh?"
"Haha."
I really had done it through effort. I'd answered honestly and somehow still got roasted for it.
We were chatting lightly when Coach Ryu Ilhae, off in the distance, gestured for me alone to come over.
"Yujin, have you ever studied tactics?"
"Tactics? No."
"Right. Of course you would have lear— wait, what? You haven't?"
He'd clearly assumed I had. But I genuinely hadn't.
"No. Why?"
"Then how did you handle the middle-school tournaments?"
"Well…"
Ring— ring— ring—
"…There's the bell. Shall we talk as we go?"
"No. After all your classes, come find me in the club room with Seonwoo."
"Understood."
I said goodbye and headed to the classroom with Han Seonwoo. We still had time, so I ate the sandwiches I'd brought.
"Jia noona make those?"
"Yeah. Jealous?"
"A little?"
Chewing, I thought for a moment.
Should I help this guy with romance?
He seemed a bit lonely, which was why the thought crossed my mind. Han Seonwoo had gotten married in my past life too — to someone pretty, one of my acquaintances.
Definitely…
"Hmm."
Thinking it through a little more, introductions were off the table.
…He married a friend's younger sister, right?
A middle-school football teammate's little sister. They'd met naturally, and only later realized who she was. The guy had been close with Seonwoo too, so there'd been plenty of talk. Nothing shady about how they met, no ulterior motives — but I still didn't feel like risking my neck by playing matchmaker.
Find her yourself, Seonwoo.
Who knew? Maybe the butterfly effect of me playing football would make them meet even sooner.
The tedious class hours finally ended, and training time arrived. As usual, I'd slept through class — I already knew all of it anyway. Then, during math, the teacher woke me up and told me to solve a problem. When I got it right, the looks of pure shock on the kids around me were still burned into my memory.
—You don't even study. How'd you solve that?
You have no idea how much study time I've put in.
In my past life, after wrecking my leg, I'd had no choice but to hit the books. On the last exam before the college entrance test, I'd cracked the top ten in the school — so when I looked at the problems, they came back to me well enough.
Anyway, we were heading to the football club room now.
Knock knock.
"Come in."
Creak.
The interior that greeted us was fairly new. Player lockers lined up left and right, a shower room visible in the back, a whiteboard for explaining tactics. We hadn't had a locker room like this in middle school, so it felt novel.
Ryu Ilhae was sitting on a sofa arranged so we could face each other and talk.
"Hello."
"Hello."
"Right. This is just a simple consultation, so sit comfortably."
"Yes."
Once Baek Yujin and Han Seonwoo sat side by side across from him, Ryu Ilhae asked,
"You really never studied tactics?"
The first question was a continuation of the morning training conversation.
"Yes. Never."
"Seonwoo neither?"
"Nope."
"Hmm."
In elementary school, they'd been too young for real tactics and only learned the basics. In middle school, there hadn't been a football club to begin with, so there was no coach.
I know the theory, though.
Watching football every day meant Yujin knew a fair amount, but Seonwoo would be a blank slate. Coach Ryu Ilhae's expression after hearing the explanation was something to see. A man who usually showed nothing looked faintly dazed.
"…No coach?"
"Yes. Just a PE teacher. He let us form a football club and do whatever we wanted."
"Haha."
Ryu Ilhae laughed as if he couldn't believe it. A middle-school team with no coach that kept clean sheets and played at a high level — of course it was absurd.
"Then how did you play matches?"
"Just the way we always did. Move on our own, pass, shoot. We won, though?"
"You make it sound easy."
"Hmm. Isn't that right? Seonwoo did it, and our middle-school friends never learned tactics either."
The calm look in his eyes made it sound like the truth.
"…"
They hadn't been taught, yet they instinctively knew how to move. That was what Baek Yujin was saying.
If I teach them properly, what happens then?
No need to say it — once they could lock in chemistry with their teammates, they'd become players no one in South Korea wouldn't know by name.
Geniuses. Absolute geniuses.
They themselves didn't seem to think so, but the Baek Yujin and Han Seonwoo sitting in front of him were geniuses — the kind with absurd talent.
"Yujin, why do you play football?"
"…"
By the feel of it, this was the real question.
Why I play football…
I'd never really thought it through, but I could answer right away.
"Because it's fun."
"Because it's fun?"
"Yes."
At first, he'd started because Bergkamp's play was beautiful. The more he practiced, the more his trapping improved day by day, and that was fun. Every time he did what he wanted in a match, the thrill that came with it pulled him deeper into the game. The reason he could train every day without slacking was simply that it was enjoyable.
"I came here because the chairman said I'd be able to play football happily."
As he remembered it, the middle-school kids had all wanted to go to the same high school together, but because he'd chosen Seongil High, they'd inevitably drifted apart. At least Han Seonwoo, who clicked with him so well, had come here too — that was a relief.
Well. No reason to go to a high school with weak results.
Come to think of it, Ryu Ilhae had heard from a coach today that Baek Yujin's girlfriend was the chairman's daughter. They were surely acquainted.
"Keep the relationship from interfering with football."
"Understood."
"Seonwoo, same for you?"
"I play because it's fun too."
"Got it."
So that was the reason.
I should schedule a match.
It had been a while — a practice match would raise the tension and stoke their passion further. So the players could enjoy themselves while playing football.
Ryu Ilhae was starting to understand why the chairman had appointed him coach here starting last year.
"Do either of you have jersey numbers you want?"
"Number 10."
"Number 8."
Ten and eight. Numbers worn by players with important roles in football — plenty of players would want them. But Seongil High was different.
The third-years had been using all of them.
In other words, they were free now. Baek Yujin was certain he and Han Seonwoo would get those numbers no matter what. In his past life, eight had been Seonwoo's, and ten had gone to some mediocre player.
"I'll take it under consideration. Now go train. You two were the last consultations."
"Yes. Understood."
"Yes."
They arrived at the field with Coach Ryu Ilhae. He asked another question.
"Have the two of you ever not been on the same team?"
"Not on the same team? Never."
From elementary school on, Han Seonwoo and Baek Yujin had played football every day like a matched pair. Where Baek Yujin was, Han Seonwoo was; where Han Seonwoo was, Baek Yujin was. It was practically a law of nature.
"Then today, you'll play on opposite teams."
And as of today, that law was about to break.