45 — Into the Field

“I think…” Yu Hee’s attention was instantly on me. “... I’m going back home.”

Her casual stroll stuttered into a startled halt.

“Huh…” Big, hazel eyes blinked at me. “Why?”

Disappointment — it rolled off of her like a miasma cloak.

“A pair of restless birds are probably waiting for me.” A poorer excuse couldn’t have left my lips, but I was glad Yu Hee was klutzy enough to lap it up like a thirsty dog.

A pout clung stubbornly on her lips. She briefly looked away, idly playing with a curl of her hair. “I was kinda hoping we could, you know, hang out a bit more.”

It might have been the heat, but her white cheeks were colored in an adorable shade of pure embarrassment.

“How much courage did it take you to say that?” I chuckled.

“I think I’ve exhausted my supply.” Yu Hee said in a small yet hopeful voice.

"Honesty, my dear, is a virtue and a vice." I mused, my gaze flicking toward her with a knowing spark. "You ought to dabble in the art of deception."

Yu Hee tilted her head, a typical sign of confusion. “But… why? I like being honest!” She declared, proudly, chest puffed out.

“What type of sex position do you usually fantasize yourself in?”

“Aahh! That—That…” Yu Hee stumbled over her words, her composure faltering like a poorly programmed automaton.

She started glitching, her inner gears grinding and steam billowing. If she were a computer, my words had the equivalent effect as deleting system 32.

“Well?”

An intoxicated blush spread from her neck to the roots of her hair. I say ‘intoxicated’ because, honestly, she looked like she just had chugged down a gallon of tequila.

“I-I-I can’t tell you that!”

“That's precisely why a little artful deception can serve you well, Yu Hee Noona."

“I–”

"Of course, everyone has some secret fetish that they don't wish to expose, but by hinting at falsehood while preserving elements of truth, one can craft a more believable narrative.” I huffed a laugh. "Though, I must say that I prefer you this way. Be different, and don't change. Innocence is truly a gift in this world."

“...”

Yu Hee’s blush abated a bit. “Umh… I-I see..."

'I wonder about that...'

With big, sparkly eyes, she regarded me. "Hmm... Dae Ho, have you lied to me before?”

I responded with a cryptic smile. “Who knows?”

….…...

By the time I got back home, my head wasn’t any clearer. Possibilities, an endless stream, ran through the corridors of my thoughts.

Emberlyn’s demonstrations and Ju Mong’s words — it rang something within me.

Ambition? Perhaps. My goal, for all my life, was and is, to lift a world cup trophy alongside my teammates, bellowing my country’s anthem into the heavens and basking in the glory with the roaring crowd.

History would remember me, a name that would echo through the ages, forever associated with victory, with Brazil.

It was not as if I was craving more than that, it was just the realization that you could be extremely good at something but wasting it away for something else.

It was hard to formulate that stupid thought into a sentence that actually made sense.

Naturally, I had no iuntention of dropping out of a no-doubt illustrious football career to become some sort of Korean Muhammad Ali.

What stung harder was that, if I was going to play for any national team, it’d be for the Korean one.

I’d be standing against Brazil.

“...”

So entranced was I in my thoughts that I failed to notice a presence lurking in the shadows.

It was only when I sat down, unloading the exhaustion of my thoughts into the comfort of the couch, that I heard movement behind me.

A cat couldn’t have been more graceful.

“Hey, babe, what’s got you brooding like a Shakespearan tragedy? Did your football betray you or something?”

Slender arms slithered over my shoulders, pressing and fondling their way down until I was trapped in a soft, nice-smelling hold.

I relaxed, letting myself be held captive.

“Ah, Mia Noona, always bringing your snarky A-game, I see. But I assure you, nothing of the sort happened.” Oh, it was way worse. “My mind has just decided to stage a rebellion.”

“Hmm.” She purred, brushing the tip of her nose against my nape. “Rebellion, huh? Are we talking about an epic overthrow of the status quo or just a minor revolt in the land of Dae Ho’s mind?”

A content sigh left my lips. “Let's just say it's a revolution of philosophical proportions, Mia Noona. I've got some deep pondering to do, the kind that would make Descartes himself envious.”

The fact that Shakespear and Descartes were actual historical figures in this reality as well was something I couldn't wrap my head around.

Mia couldn't resist a playful jab, her words dripping with faux-sympathy.

"Ah, the weight of your intellect must be exhausting. Hmm, are you sure it's not just a craving for a triple-shot espresso? Perhaps something else — something I can help you with?”

A smile, unbidden, came to my lips.

“Oh? And what magical solution do you propose?”

There was a slight shift behind me. Mia was now leaning almost all of herself on my back. Lips, soft and warm, teased my jaw. “How about a little private performance?” Her voice was low and sultry. “I could dance my way into your thoughts and make you forget everything else.”

I turned my head around, facing her. I never thought I could, so clearly, see lust, literally glistening, in someone’s eyes. With her cheeks ablaze, Mia looked feverish.

With each breath, steam seemingly billowed on the side of my neck.

Her nails dug into my chest. ‘Has she been sharpening them?’

She’s always been a scratcher. She liked to burrow into my skin with her passion, leaving marks and destruction, not unlike a hurricane.

In many ways, she was like one.

Destructively beautiful. Untamed. Wet.

“That sounds great, but…” I gave her a sincere smile. “... can you postpone this private performance for later?”

“L-Later…?”

A curl of hair fell over my eye — how annoying, do I have to cut it again?

Mia looked frustrated.

“Yes… I promise I’ll make it up to you later. I just need to relax a bit right now.”

I stood up, preparing to walk away, when a tugging at the hem of my shirt halted me.

“Mia Noona?”

She wasn’t looking at me, not directly anyway.

“You have to make it up to me, got it?” It sounded like a threat, but it was far from one.

A blush sprouted on her face, which stood in stark contrast with the haughty expression she was wearing.

“Hmhm. You know I’m the best at making it up to you.” I chuckled. “I’ll bring you roses. As a reminder that you’re one of the most captivating flowers in my garden.”

Mia rolled her eyes. “Flattery will get you nowhere, but it’s a damn good start.” She flicked her hair to the side. “I’m expecting a private concert from you, mister, where you serenade me with a medley of Moamoa’s greatest hits. Complete with backup dancers, of course.”

Oh God, not Moamoa.

She was this reality’s Korean version of Beyonce.

“I’ll see what I can arrange to appease you.”

A smile, a genuine one, finally bloomed on her lips.

“Hmph. Good. You’re finally learning.”

I closed the distance between us, cupped her chin, and lingered a kiss on her left cheek.

“I’ll be back later, Mia Noona. Don’t miss me too much.”

“Tch!” Mia crossed her arms, looking away. “Just do what you have to do and come back already!” She started to push me towards the door.

I laughed.

…...

If Nature could be psychoanalyzed — she’d be diagnosed with bipolarity.

From a beautiful, clear sky, clouds began to gather, as if shepherded by a God.

‘Hope it’s not going to rain…’

I stared at the empty field, the same one I used to record my videos.

A ball was under my foot.

I breathed in ─ slid the sphere forward ─ then out. My muscles tensed as I hunched slightly forward, and in a burst of speed, I sprinted forward.

The ball was at my feet, a part of my body, and I dribbled it, weaving my way between imaginary defenders. They were donned in dark blue shirts and white shorts, a symbol of the country they were representing.

I crossed the last defender, an empty space of grass, and approached the goal.

Faster.

I had to be faster.

Empty your head. Let instincts take over. Don't think about it.

The goalkeeper, the ball, and I, were all that existed.

I feinted to the left, fooling the imaginary goalkeeper.

He fell for it and dove to the left. I tapped the ball to the right, and it sailed past the goalkeeper and landed into the net.

I stopped, breathing in the earthy scent of humidity.

The wind gathered momentum, and the first drops of rain splattered on the ground, a prelude to the impending shower. It didn’t deter me, however. I had faced far harsher conditions on the field.

The ball was at my feet again, smudged in dirt and rainwater.

I let my eyes linger on it, to remember my past glory.

The rumbling of thunder was like the roaring of a well-coordinated crowd. The flashes of lightning were reminiscent of flares.

With a slight movement, I vaulted the ball over my head and reclaimed it with a classy touch.

Then, as if riding on the wind, I sped forward — a locomotive on full throttle.

Water drizzled on my face, soaking my hair.

A surge of energy coursed through me. With each stride, I accelerated, a whirlwind of grace and agility. The lush grass crunched under my feet.

My mind materialized opponents in front of me. An impenetrable wall that I had to overcome. With a burst of speed, I initiated the elastico, a mesmerizing move where I flicked the ball with the outside of my foot, causing it to swerve in a hypnotic arc.

The defenders, illusions of my mind, were left bewildered, their legs grasping at thin air.

I kept moving forward, conjuring more defenders, more obstacles, urging them to stop my advance. I sprinted, veering towards the left wing of the field. The defenders moved in unison, speeding after me.

I slowed down a bit, to let them catch up to me.

Right as they were about to steal the ball off my feet, I surprised them with a Ronaldo Chop. Planting my dominant foot firmly on the ground, I swiftly dragged the ball behind my standing leg, using the inside edge of my foot. The ball obediently obeyed my command, changing direction in an instant.

The suddenness of this maneuver was akin to a magician’s sleight of hand.

However, my pursuers reacted quickly.

I didn’t lose my composure. Instead, I tricked them with a step-over. The scissoring movement kept them at bay, running alongside me without approaching.

In a burst of leg strength and pure, innate speed, I left them behind.

A smile flitted across my lips.

I let my foot fly.

The ball turned into a bullet, cutting through the wind and the rain. The goalkeeper, if it weren’t a simple figment of my imagination, would have watched in miserable resignation as the sphere soared into the net with unstoppable momentum.

A deep breath escaped my lips.

‘Yes, this is the feeling…’

I smiled.

‘Much better than punching a bag.’

A slow clapping caught my attention. It was barely audible over the snarling thunder.

I was so wrapped up in my own world that I failed to register the presence of an observer─not the first time that day, mind you.

From a distance, I noticed two figures making their way towards me. One was unmistakably feminine, her features captivating and delicate. Her complexion had an ethereal paleness, almost porcelain-like, and her face possessed a beauty that could only be described as exquisite. Her petite frame was accompanied by a cascade of luxuriant black hair, flowing effortlessly around her. A singular beauty mark beneath her eye added a touch of intrigue to her already striking visage.

The other, a man, no doubt, held an air of composure and wisdom. He was dressed in a tucked-in shirt and black pants. An umbrella was between them, elevated at the right altitude to fend off the rain yet not make it awkward due to the height gap.

“Nice finish, son.” The man said, a glimmer of interest in his eyes — hunger for talent, not unlike what I'd seen in the eyes of a scout from Brazil's national team.

"Thanks. Been putting in the work." I replied, sweat-soaked and dirt-stained from head to toe.

He gave me a thorough once-over, his gaze traveling from my soaked hair to my muddy shoes. "I can tell…" he said smoothly. "This young lady here showed me your videos. Watching you in action, it's a whole different experience."

I turned my eyes to the girl in question, who was smiling ambiguously.

Dressed in casual clothes. A blazer and jeans. She radiated a casual beauty, as if it was simply an effortless endeavor.

Perhaps it was the striking paleness of her skin.

You’d almost think she was terminally-ill if not for the healthy look on her face.

"You're a hard man to track down, Dae Ho." She said with a touch of playful disappointment. "You've been avoiding me."

“You are…?” I trailed off, expecting a name.

The girl’s eyes narrowed, though the smile stayed untouched.

“Tifa.” She finally introduced herself, making me blink in surprise. “Your editor.”

Just then, the man stepped in, his tone becoming more conversational. "Do you have a minute to talk, son?"