89 — Group Stage – South Korea vs Iran II

The Iranian team stared with varying degrees of frustration, anger, or resignation, as if they'd just witnessed a miracle.

But there were no miracles in this sport.

The ball went where it went because someone intended it. Because someone hit it in a way that sent it there.

No luck. Just pure skill. My pure skill, in particular.

I let my instincts take over and run straight towards my teammates who were charging me with open arms.

Sung-tae tackled me from behind and even Jun-hwan joined in on the festivities.

"Fucker!"

"Wooo! Get him, hahaha!"

"That's what you get when you mess with the best of Asia, you assholes!" Jong-su roared, in his signature loud mouthed style.

He ran straight at me. Jumped on my back and prompted me to fall down and have the rest of my teammates dogpile on us. And there we stayed for a couple of seconds. A mess of limbs, laughs and shouts.

"Captain!"

"Our ace!"

"King!"

"National treasure!"

"Bro!"

"Legend!"

We all had our good laugh until we finally broke up. With a clap of my hands, I signaled the match to keep on going. I wasn't one to just celebrate like a monkey with his ass out. There was still eighty-four minutes to go. It wasn't even a big deal yet. The match wasn't finished, but there was a different atmosphere now.

We jogged back into positions, with me still receiving friendly pats and smiles along the way. The crowd cheered. They had that fire I liked seeing in their eyes, an expectant look. Like they were thinking 'Oh, he scored? Okay, now do that some more.'

And I would, because I couldn't just do a one and off thing. Not me, not the future Ballon D'Or recipient, I had to stay consistent. Or people would just doubt me and think that I was not good enough to live up to my title. So I couldn't ever slack, even against clearly lesser opponents, and even when we had a comfortable one goal advantage.

Besides, Mia must've been watching me, right?

She must've clearly watched that freekick.

And I would have bet on her not even blinking. She must've been holding her breath the entire time I ran up and kicked it.

I never had someone back home watching me play. Mãe didn't live long enough to see that part of my career.

Now, though...

I clenched my fists, my exhale loud in my ears.

The referee's whistle had me break out of my train of thoughts and snap back to my senses.

The kick off started. We surged forward, ready for the eighty-four minutes that would follow.

xXx

Mia's POV:

There wasn't a single match she'd miss. Not when it was her baby brother playing. The rest of the world and its football teams didn't interest her a single bit, unless they were against Korea, and thus Jae-Il, and therefore worthy of watching. But even in that scenario, the players didn't hold her attention the same way Jae-Il always had done from the start.

"Oh no!" Her mother, Eun Ha, cried out when Jae-il was fouled. The fall looked pretty nasty, but he recovered quickly.

The room had fallen into a hush, everyone watching with bated breath as Jae-il stood up. The referee flashed a yellow card.

"He should have given him the red." Su Ah, who was all curled up next to her, snorted. "In fact, he should probably go to jail for that foul."

Eun Ha nodded in agreement. "I agree, that was not acceptable."

Mia rolled her eyes; Jae-il had told her that people got injured all the time. Fouling happened, and not every tackle meant that a player had to go out. What were these people expecting from this beautiful but incredibly dangerous game?

"He'll be fine, I'm sure he's taken worse hits before." Mia stated calmly. She believed in him and that was all that mattered. Besides, Jae-Il had shown many times just how much tougher he was than the average player. Still, she was quite surprised by how Eun Ha and Su Ah decided to bunker up together and watch his game.

"I wonder who's going to take this one…" The commentator on the television spoke up, as if reading her thoughts.

Mia scoffed in her head. 'Like there was anyone else who could take that spot.'

"Well, it's no surprise to see Kim Jun-hwan standing over the ball—we all know freekicks are his specialty, are they not?"

"And look at that! Cha Jae-il right beside him." His co-commentator added. "Two absolute masters of the dead ball. You have to think they're cooking something up here."

The noise of the crowd swelled as the referee's whistle cut through the air. Kim Jun-hwan moved.

"Jun-hwan steps up… looks like he's going for it—no! It's a dummy! Cha Jae-il strikes!"

The commentator shouted, the crowd roared, and Jae-il's right foot met the ball.

His body swiveled in motion. The ball flew.

Mia found her hand over her mouth, holding in a gasp.

The Iranian goalkeeper reached out desperately, trying to claw it away—

"It's past the wall… it's over the keeper…" The commentator's voice rose an octave.

—but the ball sailed past his fingers.

The back of the net bulged.

"And the net is ruffling!"

"CHA JAE-IL HAS STRUCK AGAIN!"

"What a beautiful freekick from Number 9, Cha Jae-il!"

"Truly an incredible young man."

Eun Ha and Su Ah leaped off the couch, their hands clasped together and their screams of excitement mingled with the crowd.

"YEAH!" Su Ah shouted, pumping her fists.

"Yes, yes, YES!" Her mother was jumping, eyes fixed on the screen. She was watching the way Jae-il ran back to half field, surrounded by his adoring teammates. He was quickly mobbed and taken down before a little mountain of screaming flesh piled up on him.

It was amusing to watch. He must've been slowly suffocating under all of those sweaty limbs.

Mia didn't get up. She sat there, eyes on the TV. She couldn't tear her gaze away from him, from his image on the screen. Still, a gentle, pleased little smile bloomed onto her lips as Jae-Il rose back to his feet and resumed playing, his focus immediately returning to his football, leaving all of the frivolous, noisy and messy celebrating behind.

'Oh Jae-Il, I could watch you forever. I don't want to take my eyes off you. Every day and every night.'

The smile turned wicked at the corners. And a little bit crazy. Because the thought of never leaving him was a very, very attractive idea.

'Noona will always support you, little brother.'

The thought came unbidden.

The match continued.

The other team had regained some of their lost spirit. With only fifteen minutes played, and now a goal down, it looked like the team was determined not to go down without a fight. That's the beauty of the sport, you could be one-nil up, but with a few errors you'll be the one being led to the guillotine.

Iran, after a string of coordinated passes, made an incursion in South Korea's area. They did manage to shoot, but it was way off the mark.

A collective groan reverberated across the crowd.

Their captain, whose jersey name read Farid on his back, a man who looked to be in his thirties despite being 17, shouted at his players. Ordering, commanding.

Now, to Mia the funny thing was that Jae-il had once told her that most matches were hard-fought battles, a fight between two evenly-matched sides. But she could see that wasn't always the case; especially in this tournament, the differences between two teams could vary wildly from the first to the last ones. Clearly, Jae-il had also forgotten to tell her what it looked like when one side didn't just win—but redefined the game.

Even Eun Ha.

Even Su Ah.

At some point, they simply sat down, blinking as they spectacted what would be a complete and absolute domination. It wasn't about scoring hundreds of goals, because that was obviously not going to happen. It was the overall performance of two players, and the rest of the squad following them, with them at the center.

Cha Jae-il and Kim Jun-hwan.

Kim Jun-hwan dictated the match in the middle of the pitch. His passes, his speed of play and the ability to break through defensive lines and control the midfield. Even to Mia, or to Eun Ha and Su Ah, it was obvious he had the makings of an elite player, the kind that was a joy to watch, a player that could change a match.

And then Jae-il, who was like a deadly knife. Unstoppable. Always there. Always at the right position.

His speed.

His technique.

The power.

No one came even close to stopping him. Not once. No matter how hard Iran tried to keep up, it was pointless.

This match wasn't a match.

It was a coronation. An execution.

Jae-il, in the following minutes, would nutmeg two players, dribble past four players before finally being brought down by a desperate and frustrated tackle. In fact, it wasn't neither the first nor the last one.

Not even five minutes after that foul—

The referee's whistle blew for the fourth time as Jae-il fell down after two defenders attempted a dangerous tackle. If it hadn't been so dangerous to him, it would have looked like a couple of drunk footballers had missed and tumbled on themselves in a hilarious way.

"Hey, what is this?" Eun Ha exclaimed in horror.

"That referee is blind!" Su Ah shouted.

Mia's eyebrow twitched in anger.

As expected the ref gave a free-kick, and after much shouting from both Iran's coach and team, another yellow card was shown.

The second one today.

Jun-hwan extended a helping hand at Jae-il, who took it.

"Is he okay?" She wondered, and Su Ah seemed to have the same thought.

Her brother, meanwhile, just flashed a wry smile, patted his partner in the back and simply returned to his position.

"He doesn't look hurt." Eun Ha said, looking worried. "Ah, this is why I don't like watching his games on TV. I always end up worrying too much."

Even if she was at the stadium, what could she possibly do? But the sentiment was still the same. It was impossible for her not to worry for his well-being when the players of the opposite team seemed to be hell-bent on murdering Jae-Il.

Mia wasn't pleased either, but there was a sort of vindictive glee when she knew how outclassed they were that they had to result to violence to have any sort of upper hand.

Kim Jun-hwan took the freekick this time.

He missed, unfortunately, though by a thin margin. The keeper was shaken. The wall he had instructed didn't cover him that well, and had it not been for the ball slightly curving a bit to the side, he wouldn't have managed to stop it at all.

The game resumed.

South Korea hoggled the ball for most of the remaining minutes, but Iran kept pushing.

Their striker had a shot that the South Korean keeper managed to parry away, and that was their only real highlight of the first half.

As for South Korea…

Jae-il would go on and score a second goal at the end of the half.

The second one was even more beautiful than the first. Jun-hwan had sliced the ball through the entire Iranian wall, banking on the fact that Jae-il was faster than the entirety of Iran's back line to go on with his run towards the Iranian goal.

The ball sailed perfectly, the touch, the timing, and the pass was spot-on.

Eun Ha stood up.

Su Ah leaned forward.

"Come on, come on, come on…"

Eun Ha couldn't keep still. Mia was smothering the couch pillow between her breasts.

Jae-il ate the distance between him and the Iranian keeper, feinted to the left and then to the right with an inhumane ease and just as easily, sent the keeper the other way before poking the ball inside the empty net.

2-0

Mia smiled, releasing the pillow.