Chapter 4
“Will he come today…?”
On this dark night, with the park’s streetlight as her only beacon, Shin Ah-yoon sat on a bench, her gaze fixed on the ground, looking disheartened.
As she glanced at the tablet resting on her knees, a wave of sadness washed over her.
“I really hope he comes today since I put so much effort into this.”
With her eyes closed, she reflected on everything that had happened over the past few days.
She had consumed countless cups of coffee and energy drinks, gathering information to help correct Baek Ian’s posture and prevent injuries, and she put her best effort into creating material that would help him perform better on the field—something that would be useful to anyone.
Surely, if he accepted the information in these materials, it would greatly benefit his professional career in no time.
“It’s 8:54 PM now… just six minutes left.”
As the clock hands moved closer to the promised time of 9 PM, her chest tightened with anxiety.
Honestly, she wasn’t sure if Baek Ian would show up.
She had received a reply confirming their meeting at the park, but…
There had been many times when she waited endlessly for Baek Ian in the darkness of the park, only for him not to come.
Maybe this time would end the same way.
She might wait, hoping he would come, only to realize it’s late at night and trudge back home as dawn approached.
But… tonight, more than anything, Shin Ah-yoon wished that Baek Ian would come to see her.
And for good reason—tonight’s meeting wasn’t just about giving him useful information.
“…I want to be honest about my feelings now.”
Shin Ah-yoon had feelings for Baek Ian. Not just simple fondness, but genuine affection.
Those feelings had begun back when they were children.
Specifically, it was when she visited the home of her mother’s friend, a former Asian Games track and field medallist, while preparing to become an athlete herself.
– “Ah. H-hello? I… I’m Shin Ah-yoon…”
– “Haha. We’re the same age, so you don’t need to be so formal. You’re Shin Ah-yoon, right? Let’s get along.”
Of course, her initial attraction was mostly due to Ian’s appearance, but there were other reasons too.
Track and soccer were entirely different sports, but he could still understand the struggles that athletes go through.
Since they were the same age, they could share common ground and have meaningful conversations.
‘When I suffered a major injury to my thigh and had to give up on my path as an athlete, Ian comforted me here, too.’
She had run away from home like a rebellious child, crying her heart out in the park, and somehow, Ian found her, quietly approaching and wrapping her in a comforting embrace.
She might have been embarrassed by the stares from passersby, given how loudly she sobbed, but even when his comforting gestures mixed with her pitiful cries, he stayed with her for hours, listening to her complaints and offering solace.
That was the moment when Shin Ah-yoon’s feelings for Baek Ian shifted from admiration of his looks to genuine affection for the person he was.
Even though she no longer had a reason to visit his mother’s home after giving up her dream as an athlete…
She still found a way to spend time with him by choosing a new path as a performance coach and visiting his home whenever possible.
She justified their late-night meetings in the park by offering him helpful advice and information, just to be near him a little longer.
By the time they had spent more than 13 years together…
Shin Ah-yoon made a firm decision.
She decided to be honest about her feelings.
“Can I really do it…?”
Her feelings were sincere enough that she had no reason to be ashamed of them before anyone.
That much she could say with certainty.
Yet, for some reason, Shin Ah-yoon felt uncertain.
And it made sense—recently, Ian had changed in ways she didn’t recognize.
– “I’m exhausted from training, so I can’t make it to the park. Just go home.”
– “Huh. Are you seriously telling me to copy Yoon Seung-hwan’s technique? Do you also think I’m worse than that guy?”
‘…He seemed anxious.’
Could she really confess her feelings to this Ian, who had become so edgy? Could she approach him with sincerity?
She didn’t know.
She lacked confidence.
She couldn’t be sure if she would be able to speak the words she had kept inside, even when faced with his sharp, tense expression.
But that didn’t mean she could continue bottling up those feelings.
And so, she took a gamble.
Even though she wasn’t confident, she decided to call Ian to the park.
If she backed down, she might never get another chance.
No matter how cold his gaze might be, no matter how harsh his words might sting, she wouldn’t retreat.
She had made up her mind and waited for Ian.
Beep!
Finally, as her smartwatch buzzed, signaling that it was now 9 PM…
“Huh? W-what did you just say, Ian?”
She was faced with an unexpected scene.
“I’m apologizing. For all the hurtful things I said out of irritation. I won’t do it again.”
‘Ian is bowing his head and apologizing? T-this isn’t what I expected!’
Caught off guard by this surprisingly gentle side of Ian, Shin Ah-yoon stammered as she looked at him.
***
Near Honam Jeilmun, there’s a park.
It doesn’t have a specific name, and it’s just a park used by the locals for walking and exercise.
However, for the fans of Jeonbuk, this park holds a slightly different meaning.
Not in a good way, but in a bad one.
‘It’s a legendary place, you know, where the scout bribery scandal got exposed, and the team lost league points, failing to win the championship. This is the spot where they hung up that ridiculous banner that said, “What’s so important about the league?”’
They claimed it was to celebrate their AFC championship win…
But it’s hard to understand how fans of a team in the K-League could have such a twisted mindset.
It was so embarrassing that even I, who was just a five-year-old kid back then, couldn’t hold my head up.
‘Even though it’s a novel, if they kept the facts straight, the same thing would have happened here. I wonder what those guys who hung that banner are doing now. Are they still calling themselves the Mad Green Boys, Jeonbuk’s supporters?’
If they are, maybe they deserve to be acknowledged as true fans.
They might be a little twisted, doing things that make them ashamed to show their faces. But watching the downfall of a team they love with open eyes isn’t an easy thing.
‘In reality, players from the Young Warriors High (Youngjeong-go), including me, rose up and led to a full revival. But a novel isn’t reality, after all.’
Fans will keep cheering with the hope of competing for the championship again someday.
According to the future I know, Jeonbuk wins just once while Yoon Seung-hwan is there, and after that, the downfall continues.
‘If that’s the case… then I’ll have to be the one to set things right.’
I don’t know if the author wants Jeonbuk to fall. Maybe they turned them into a lousy team just to shine a light on Yoon Seung-hwan.
Or perhaps, the author is genuinely a Jeonbuk fan, so frustrated with the club’s management that even with the greatest club owner in K-League history behind them, they end up playing terribly.
But no matter the reason, in the world the author created, Jeonbuk is definitely a lousy team.
So, if I’m a troublemaker, my job is to give Jeonbuk a chance to fire the signal flare for their comeback.
“Of course, I’ll need to fix other things first.”
I looked at Shin Ah-yoon, who was staring at me with a bewildered expression.
“Uh… apologizing to me…? Really? But why all of a sudden…”
‘Is it that surprising that I apologized?’
It’s not like I kneeled down or did a three-step bow.
I just bowed my head and said sorry for speaking harshly before, but Shin Ah-yoon blushed like she had received a huge gift and was on the verge of fainting.
‘How badly did that jerk Baek Ian treat this delicate girl, to the point where she cut ties with him and turned to Yoon Seung-hwan?’
Shin Ah-yoon had a significant presence, but most of her scenes were with Yoon Seung-hwan, flirting rather than delving into her past, so that part barely came up in the novel.
What little I do know…
‘A girl who couldn’t even manage herself enough to become an athlete thinks she can fix someone’s posture? Damn, even thinking back, it’s way out of line.’
Just recalling the lines from the novel made a chill run down my spine.
How shocking must that have been from her perspective?
She had endured such a difficult experience, wanting nothing more than to prevent her cherished childhood friend from going down the same path, even sharing materials she had stayed up all night studying.
‘Ugh… how much of an idiot was I?’
Shame and disgust welled up from deep inside me.
But I decided to leave it at that.
Anyway, I managed to prevent what happened today, so that was enough for now.
“Uh… Ah! My tablet!”
Shin Ah-yoon, who had been dazed, suddenly came to her senses and bent down.
Her tablet was falling to the ground.
It seemed she had lost her grip while being too caught up in my apology.
Thunk! Clatter!
The moment it hit the ground, the tablet bounced up, and its cover opened, displaying its screen.
Fortunately, the park’s ground was made of rubberized material like an athletics track, so the tablet wasn’t damaged.
But with the cover open, its screen lit up, revealing its contents.
“This, this is…”
“Oh! Th-that’s… you see, Ian…”
The screen had come on, and the video playing there…
Its protagonist was me. It was a video from the Youth Championship finals, zoomed in only on my legs…
What was she trying to explain with this?
As I tilted my head in confusion, Shin Ah-yoon, who was fidgeting nervously beside me, spoke in a trembling voice.
“It’s not… I didn’t record it with any bad intentions. It’s just that! Ian, you tend to run with a forefoot technique during games, so I hoped you might correct it… Ah! It’s not like I’m comparing you to anyone else, really, please don’t misunderstand…”
“It’s okay. Keep going.”
“Huh?”
Shin Ah-yoon shut her eyes tightly, her expression filled with fear.
Did she think I was going to get angry?
Seeing me react calmly, different from what she expected, Shin Ah-yoon hesitantly continued.
“You, you’re really okay with it? Back then, whenever I suggested correcting your posture, you used to get really angry and tell me to stop.”
“I said I’m sorry, didn’t I? I won’t do that anymore. So just tell me. What’s wrong with my form, and how should I fix it?”
“Uh… now that you’re saying that, I’ll just spill it, okay?”
She took a deep breath and then began pointing to different parts of the video with a newfound determination in her eyes.
“Watching your games, I noticed that you might need to adjust how you land your feet when running.”
“Adjust my landing?”
“Yeah. You use a forefoot landing, right? Of course, both your parents were track and field athletes, so it’s likely that your form developed that way from a young age… And forefoot landing isn’t bad. It’s actually the best for sprinting.”
It might be the optimal landing for short distances, but is it not suitable for me?
Even though I no longer use forefoot landing, I decided to listen for now.
“Forefoot landing is great for short distances. Sprinting is important in soccer, too. But you’re a defensive midfielder, right? The position that runs the most. If you use a landing method optimized for short distances…”
I sat beside her on the bench, focusing on her as she animatedly continued her explanation.
No extra response was needed. I just stayed quiet and listened.
The Shin Ah-yoon I saw in the story wasn’t really preparing to be a coach but was more like someone gathering materials just to spend time with the person she loved.
It’s just my guess, but I think it’s the same with the current Shin Ah-yoon.
Time with me—that’s what she desires. If that’s what my favourite character wishes for, I’m willing to grant it.
“So, I recommend switching to midfoot running. It’s similar to forefoot, so it’s easier to correct, and it’s the best form for long-distance running like marathons. Of course, I’m not perfect at it either. But your father was a marathoner, right? He could probably help you out. What do you think? Does it sound good?”
“I’ll fix it. I’ll have it fixed before the next game, no matter what.”
“Huh? Wh-what are you talking about all of a sudden?”
“You asked if I could do it, right? I’ll adjust my landing from forefoot to midfoot. You can check it yourself… when you come to my next game.”
Shin Ah-yoon, who had been staring at me intently after my serious tone, burst into a chuckle and waved her hand.
“Oh, come on. Do you think correcting your form is that easy? There are tons of people who take years just to fix one simple thing. And you want me to come to the game? Have you even made the starting lineup?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
“Geez. Then how are you so confident? And the next game is… it’s the ACL Round of 16 at Big Bird, isn’t it? What if I go all the way to Suwon just to see you benched?”
Was she worried that I might not play, despite going all that way to watch the game?
Hearing that almost made me laugh, but I held it back and smiled at her.
“Don’t worry about it, just come. You can make it, right? If you need a ticket, let me know. I’ll get one for you.”
“No need. I already bought them, okay? Three days from now, on the 20th, right? I’ll drag my whole family along, so you better not sit out.”
Shin Ah-yoon, now smiling brightly instead of looking anxious.
I took in her expression with my eyes.
Will I be able to play? Why ask the obvious?
‘After showing my progress during training, if the coach still doesn’t pick me… wouldn’t that mean it’s the coach who’s at fault?’
There are some coaches like that, who cling to veterans and hesitate to give new players a chance.
Some even turn their teams into retirement homes.
But the Seon Ki-baek I know isn’t that kind of person.
That’s why I could be confident.
“Just wait and see.”
“Heh. Got it. Just make sure to fix your posture, okay? I’ll be checking.”
Watching Shin Ah-yoon smile brightly, I couldn’t help but smile along.
—
Read More at – GENZNOVEL.COM!!
PLEASE JOIN OUR DISCORD AND SUBSCRIBE THE ROLE TO RECEIVE LATEST NOTIFICATIONS!!
Click here -> https://discord.gg/S8c2kGVr2g
Comment