128 — Semi finals – South Korea vs Saudi Arabia II

Su Ah's POV:

Her eyes were fixed on the screen as if glued. She wouldn't blink.

An interesting reaction, if anyone could witness her obsessive behavior. It was far-flung, just like that episode the other day, in that shitty alley, where the look in her eyes matched nothing of the jaded, calm composure her face was meant to project. Who'd have thought the little disgusting writer was into football, anyway?

Well, she wasn't.

Her gaze wasn't even really on the game, the ball, the score, or the tactical interplay. She had tunnel vision, and the view at the end of that tunnel wore the number nine shirt.

Su Ah's fingers traced her lips, looking for a phantom touch that had long faded. She stared. A bead of sweat rolled down Jae-il's sharp jawline on screen, and she mirrored it, unconsciously licking her own lips. Almost as if she could taste the saltiness on her tongue.

She would give a leg and an arm to trade places with that stupid ball, to feel the hot flush of his exertion. To feel the sharp, ragged gasps and pants that rushed in and out of his body. To get caught up and tangled in his sweaty shirt. And if, of course, a kiss was included, she wouldn't object.

Somewhere below, between her legs, Su Ah clenched.

She sighed in mild annoyance. She hated how automatic it was. How her tongue remembered the exact drag of his over hers, how her hips remembered the roll against his thigh.

The girl who used to highlight textbooks in three colours and scoff at girls who cried over boys… where the fuck did she go? Seriously. That Su Ah would've gagged at this version, sitting in the dark with moist underwear, drooling over her little brother like a creep. That Su Ah had rules. Boundaries. A working brain. A sensible moral compass.

This one only had a pulse between her legs and a bruise blooming under her collarbone that she kept pressing just to feel it hurt.

Mia had seen it. And while a part of her panicked that someone might find out what the two of them were up to, the other was sadistically pleased at the look of twisted agony that had crossed Mia's pretty features.

While it wasn't that obvious, Su Ah knew Mia's fixation on their little brother was anything but innocent. How far had they gone, Su Ah could only guess. Jae-il didn't seem like an utter retard to go all the way with their nutcase of a sister. But she guessed that no matter how smart, level-headed and patient her Jae-il was, there was no guarantee the girl he shared a womb with wouldn't resort to desperate measures?

That Unnie of hers had a hurricane in her veins.

And Su Ah really, really hoped Jae-il wasn't doing anything against his will.

Still...

Su Ah felt a small, sharp smile pull at her lips.

There was something ugly in it, though she'd never admit it. Satisfaction. Yes, satisfaction. She had clawed a piece of something back from Mia, and it felt good. Wrong, but good.

This wasn't the game she'd grown up playing with Mia. Tag in the yard. Who could eat more tteokbokki before mom stopped them. A tug of war of who had better grades. A dumb and childish sibling rivalry. No. Nothing like that. This was a petty, immoral and twisted game of upmanship. A bitch-slap to the face kind of contest.

What did Jae-il even think of it?

There was no way that he, who had been caught between both sisters, wasn't aware of the exact shape of the cage they were building around him.

He had to know.

"......"

"And there he goes again!" The commentator boomed through her laptop. "Gooool! Gooool!"

"What a beautiful assist. He just keeps doing it!"

"If Cha Jae-il isn't scoring, he certainly is contributing, hyung." One of the commentators let out a dramatic groan of delight. "I can't remember the last time we scored when Cha Jae-il didn't have his fingerprints all over it. Or Jun-hwan's, for that matter—definitely can't forget about our beloved Maestro."

"Remember when we said 'don't fall in love with teenage prodigies, they break your heart'? Yeah, I'm filing for adoption papers tomorrow."

Su Ah blinked out of her stupor and focused on the game, replaying the latest goal of the match.

Some teammate scored off a cross Jae-il basically handed over on a silver platter. Even Su Ah herself believed she could've scored in that instance. The ball, as reluctant as it likely was to leave the foot of that God, flew graciously through the air as per divine command, and sailed across the pitch with unerring precision.

It hit the turf once, skipped past a diving defender, then met the foot of his waiting teammate—who drove it cleanly into the back of the net.

2-0

The camera stayed on Jae-il anyway.

Always did.

He wiped sweat off his upper lip with the back of his wrist and she felt it in her own mouth like it was her sweat he'd stolen. His lips shone under the lights, that full bottom one wet and smudged a deep pink, and god, did she want to press her own against it. Perhaps, in hindsight, it'd have been much better if she hadn't met him that night. Maybe the longing would've died down a bit? Maybe not. Maybe she'd have become this mess somewhere along the line, anyway, whether tonight or tomorrow or next year.

And she couldn't help but wonder for how long had Mia felt like this. Because, clearly, the answer was before this weird-ass showdown had begun. Otherwise, why would that girl have approached Su Ah so aggressively that evening. And as much as Su Ah tried to pretend she was keeping it together, at least compared to Mia...

When will this self-induced insanity finally come to an end? These stupid justifications and excuses of hers were getting worse.

The match continued. Su Ah kept her attention trained on her screen, shifting as far back on the bed as she could to accommodate her growing frustration.

A restless itch was growing deep between her thighs and the tingling sensation was already reaching her neck. A traitorous body with no common sense or morals. Su Ah let out a slow breath and braced her knees tightly together, shaking off the images her treacherous mind wanted to supply.

He wasn't there, he wouldn't see how he affected her.

Too busy chasing after a ball instead of her—

Her...

Su Ah blushed at the blasphemous thought. She almost stood from the bed, snatched up the laptop, and flung it at the nearest wall.

She shut her eyes and counted. Then counted again.

Then she tried to focus on the game. South Korea was winning.

2-0 by the 27th minute.

3-0 by the 35th minute.

​4-0 by the 40th minute.

4-1 by the 45th minute. A last minute goal from a Saudi Arabian. A penalty after one of the Korean defenders failed to nick the ball in the penalty box. A consolation for them, at this point. The referee blew the halftime.

Su Ah doubted there was any comeback—not with how utterly one-sided the whole damn thing was turning out. And not just score wise either, but also in every other way that mattered.

South Korea U-17 had been nigh unstoppable since their debut in this stage, never conceding a match.

The commentators had been heaping praises on the team non-stop.

Not surprising considering how the senior division wasn't faring as well, losing more matches than expected. But of course, what else could people say, considering the stellar line-up in the younger team, and Jae-il, in particular, with his exceptional football prowess?

Jae-il and Jun-hwan, as the commentators kept worshipping. Two pillars that propelled this youth team through each match, regardless of the quality or competence of their opponents.

Not merely getting the national team through every match, but dominating, humiliating even, whatever defense the opposing teams managed to mount in vain.

Analysts praised Jae-il and Jun-hwan. Critics said the other team had a bad defense, terrible forwarding, and that their offense and goal-scoring capabilities were lacking.

Su Ah didn't know much about football and wasn't an expert in tactics, but even she could tell that the Saudi team wasn't nearly as incompetent as some people claimed. They were a decent team that put up a solid fight. The problem wasn't them; the problem was the two players who were making the entire team look like a joke.

Because if you removed those two from the roster, South Korea would be just another average U-17 team, maybe a little above average, but not a terrifying force sweeping across the field with every match.

Su Ah watched as the players slowly filed out and retreated back into their respective locker rooms for halftime. The camera panned one last time on Jae-il's satisfied, relaxed face as he conversed with one of his teammates.

That last shot of his sweaty, glowing face was enough to send another pleasant little zap through Su Ah. It had her clenching her teeth and curling her toes. She bit her lip, rolling back in her bed, her lower body achingly wet. "Aggghhhh!" It was driving her mad, really. "Go watch some porn! Stupid, perverted little... idiot."

Though, the porn in this instance, weren't videos of uninteresting males with subpar physiques, but pictures of her brother dearest. She had a collection she used for occasions such as this.

Su Ah held her face in her hands, recycling her own breath in her palms.

… maybe after this match was over.