The months following that first, lopsided friendly match bled together in a steady rhythm of practice and quiet study.
Spring unfurled into the hazy, humid warmth of early summer in Seoul. My routine remained largely unchanged: relentless drills under the strengthening sun, the familiar weight of textbooks in the evenings, and the occasional, obligatory playtime with Su Ah, whose analytical curiosity about my skills seemed to grow, and Mia, whose interactions with me felt increasingly… unpredictable.
My parents, particularly Yeong Gu, were ecstatic. He'd leveraged his connections, that glorious man.
Eventually, I had a date.
The FC Seoul Youth Academy tryouts were scheduled for late July. The gateway to serious football in this country, the first real step back onto a path I knew intimately, was finally within sight.
It felt weird retracing my steps, climbing a mountain I had already seen the summit of.
However, this time my all time goal would be considerably harder. Winning a World Cup with Brazil was one thing—doing it with South Korea?
Yeah, there was a lot of work to do.
One particularly sweltering afternoon, after drilling solo for an hour on the patch of lawn behind our house, I finally decided to call it quits and headed inside. My shirt was plastered on my sweaty back, and my muscles sang with fatigue; I'd been at it quite intensively these days.
Nothing too extreme since my body was still developing, but at least I was making damn sure it was developing well.
Mia was on the living room floor, magazine open but forgotten in her lap. Her head was propped on her hand, her gaze distant, fixed on the shifting patterns of light filtering through the blinds.
The hum of the A/C was all that could be heard.
I walked past her and towards the fridge. My hands were already reaching for a cold bottle of water when I heard the sound of her shifting position.
"Done pretending you're Elepé for the day?" She asked, not looking up immediately. Her tone held the usual teasing edge, but lacked some of its usual bite. Quite unusual, to be honest.
'Elepé?' Oh right, him. This world's 'supposedly' best football player in history.
I grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. "Elepé played in a different era, Noona. The game has evolved." I took a long drink, observing her. She finally looked up, and her gaze lingered a moment too long, sweeping over me from my sweaty hair down to my grass-stained shorts. It wasn't hostile, not exactly, but it felt… analytical.
"Right." She said slowly, tapping a perfectly manicured nail on the magazine cover. "Always the expert. So, Mr. Evolved Footballer, are you actually going to make it into that fancy academy thing dad keeps bragging about?"
"That's the objective." I replied, toweling off my face to reveal a slight smile. "Confidence is high."
"Confidence is always high with you." Mia retorted, but again, the sharpness felt blunted.
"Is it so wrong to be confident in one's abilities?" I asked, leaning casually against the kitchen counter, watching her carefully. Her behavior had been odd lately; not the usual teasing or competitive jabs, but something more contemplative.
Was that typical sisterly behavior? Was she still jealous about my success?
She shrugged, looking away again. "No, it's just weird. Like, you have this… aura. You're seven. Shouldn't you be playing with toy cars and making mud pies or something?"
"Are mud pies a common childhood activity?" I asked, genuinely curious.
She rolled her eyes, exasperation breaking through the thoughtful mask. "That's not the point, Jae-il. The point is, you're weird."
"Ah." I nodded, understanding. "Weird in a good way or a bad way?"
"There's a good way?" She snorted, but the corners of her lips betrayed a smile.
"I'd like to think so." I said, taking another sip. "Otherwise, why would you be talking to me right now?"
"Maybe I'm trying to figure you out." She suggested, her tone almost conspiratorial.
"Am I really that complex, Noona?"
She paused, her gaze locking with mine. "You're a seven-year-old boy who plays football like a pro, reads textbooks for fun, and keeps a training schedule stricter than our dad's work calendar." She leaned back on her hands, the magazine sliding off her lap. "Yeah, I'd say you're pretty complex, Jae-il."
I smiled, a genuine warmth spreading through me. "I'll take that as a compliment."
"You would." Mia said, shaking her head with a sigh that was more theatrical than weary.
"What's gotten into you lately, Noona?" I asked, crossing my arms over the counter, the now empty bottle dangling from one hand. "You've been… quieter, less boisterous. Less Mia."
She raised an eyebrow, arms crossed. "Less Mia?"
"You know." I gestured broadly. "Not as many complaints about my 'showboating' or the lack of attention I'm giving you." I tilted my head, a small playful smirk playing on my lips. "It's almost like you might… miss me."
Her face contorted into a myriad of emotions, each vying for dominance: indignation, embarrassment, denial. But she didn't shout or storm away. Instead, she took a steadying breath, her eyes narrowing. "Don't be ridiculous. I just… want to know what makes you tick, that's all. You're my little brother, after all. It's my job to figure you out before anyone else does."
"Ah." I nodded. "So it's a big sisterly concern then?"
"Exactly." She agreed, perhaps a bit too quickly. "Purely sisterly. And out of familial curiosity."
"Of course." I said, straightening up from the counter. "Then, in the spirit of fostering better sibling relations, why don't you join me for a session tomorrow? You might develop an affection for football yet. And, it might give you some more insight into what makes me… tick." I mimicked her earlier gesture.
She stared at me, her face a battle between the immediate denial I could see brewing and a curiosity that was clearly getting the better of her. After a beat, she sighed. "Fine. But don't expect me to run around chasing a ball in the sun all day. I'll watch. Maybe offer some… constructive criticism."
I laughed. "I would expect nothing less from you, Noona."
Mia watched me leave.
xXx
Mia's POV:
Summer—sweltering heat notwithstanding—had brought with it a strange kind of calm. The house was quieter, the days lazier, and her parents were less frantic about schedules and schoolwork.
She found herself with more time on her hands than she'd ever had before, and her thoughts often drifted to her younger brother.
Jae-il was... different. Always had been. Not in a creepy or scary way, just in a way that made her look twice.
Where she had always been about the drama, the attention, the social politics of school and home, he seemed to navigate a different world entirely. He was quiet, studious, and incredibly focused. Su Ah was quite like that as well, but that little twerp at least behaved her age.
She didn't think it was the football. Sure, he was good—better than good—but it wasn't the sport that made him… him. It was something else, something deeper. Maybe it was in the way he spoke, the way he carried himself, and even the way he looked at her sometimes.
It was unnerving. It was interesting.
And it bothered her.
'Don't think too much about it.'
For her mental sanity, Mia had tried to follow that advice, to dismiss the nagging questions that Jae-il seemed to conjure up in her. But it was like trying to ignore a puzzle with a missing piece; her mind kept coming back to it, prodding at it, trying to make sense of it.
And it didn't help that Jae-il was everywhere she turned—on the lawn in front of her, in the family room reading, or just being that quiet, observant presence at the dinner table.
So, she'd decided to do something about it. To figure him out, understand what made him so different, and why it was so important to her. And the best way to do that? Well, she'd just have to spend more time with him, wouldn't she?
That's how she found herself outside the next afternoon, watching as Jae-il went through his warm-up routine.
The sun was already high, baking the grass and turning the air into a warm, sticky soup. She hadn't even been out there for ten minutes, yet her skin was already glistening with sweat. How he managed to run around in this heat for so long was beyond her.
He'd offered her a ball to join him, but she'd declined. "Just here to observe, remember?" She'd said, tossing her hair over her shoulder and finding a shaded spot under a tree. "Don't let me interrupt your... training."
Jae-il tilted his head, smiling slightly. "That won't do, Noona. What's the point of you being here if you're not participating?"
She lifted an eyebrow, leaning back against the rough bark of the tree. "Participating in what? Your quest to melt into a puddle in the middle of our lawn?"
He laughed, the sound light and genuine. It was a rare sound from Jae-il, usually so stoic and serious. She found herself smiling in response, a reflex she couldn't quite help. "No, no, nothing that drastic. But you did say you wanted to understand me better, right? How will you do that sitting under a tree?"
Mia huffed, crossing her arms and looking at him skeptically. "And what, exactly, do you have in mind?"
Jae-il's eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief that made Mia both curious and a bit wary. He gestured towards the open field in front of them. "How about a challenge? Let's see if you can take the ball from me."
Her eyes widened a fraction. "What? You want me to... play with you?"
He nodded. "It'll be fun. And you might even learn a thing or two."
She scoffed, but her lips were already curving into a grin. "Alright, football prodigy, you're on. But remember, I'm not one of those kids you humiliated the other day. I won't go down so easily." She pushed off the tree and started towards him, a new kind of energy in her stride.
'Hmph! You brat, I'll show you!'
Mia turned her nose up, her smile as haughty as she could manage.
Jae-il's smile widened as he watched her approach, the ball nestled comfortably at his feet. "We'll see about that, Noona. Ready?"
"Bring it." She replied, her stance shifting as she prepared to defend.
A bead of sweat trickled down the side of her face, but she brushed it away, her focus entirely on Jae-il and the ball he was effortlessly maneuvering.
Then she charged, intending to sweep the ball away with a quick, decisive move.
But Jae-il was quicker, his body and the ball moving as if they were one. The ball darted left, and by the time she adjusted, he was already past her. She turned, a curse on her lips as she lunged for the ball again. But again, he was too fast, too agile, and he slipped away, leaving her grasping at thin air.
After a few more failed attempts, she stood there, panting, her hands on her knees, and a look of utter disbelief on her face. "What... how are you... this isn't fair!"
Jae-il had barely broken a sweat. "Not fair? Thought you were better than those kids I humiliated." He teased, gently tapping the ball with his foot.
She straightened up, her chest still heaving slightly. "You've had your fun. Now give me that stupid ball." She demanded, pointing at the sphere still firmly under his control.
"Come and get it." He replied, his voice carrying a note of challenge.
Mia's eyes narrowed.
Sweat poured down her face, stinging her eyes and soaking her clothes, but she kept on, fueled by an inner fire that refused to be extinguished, either by the scorching sun or by Jae-il's infuriating skill with that thing.
She had long foregone grace and dignity and simply threw herself at the ball with all the fervor of an enraged bull.
But each time, she was left in the dirt, or on her back, or flat on her face, the ball always just out of reach.
At one point, she thought she had him. She saw an opening, a sliver of a chance, and lunged. Her hand brushed the smooth surface of the ball, her fingertips just touching it. Victory flashed in her eyes.
Then, in a movement so swift and fluid it seemed almost impossible, Jae-il spun away. The ball, that infernal, traitorous ball, stayed with him.
'How the heck does he do that?!'
Exhausted, she finally flopped down onto the grass, her hair spread out like a dark halo. "You're impossible." She huffed, her breaths coming in deep, ragged gasps. "You're not human."
Jae-il approached her, his shadow falling over her prone figure. "Just a little bit of practice, Noona. You're not so bad yourself."
She looked up at him, her eyes narrowing in a glare that had no real bite.
He smiled. It was softer than his usual smirk, almost... comforting. "It's your turn now, I'll try to get it from you."
The ball, that had always stayed glued to his feet, now rolled up to her. She looked at it, then back up at him. "You'll let me have the ball?"
He nodded. "It's only fair. See if you can keep it from me."
She snatched up the ball, cradling it protectively under her dominant foot as she stood. "Alright, Jae-il, let's see what you've got."
He came at her, and instinctively, she tried to move the ball away. Unexpectedly, she seemed to have succeeded, the ball staying with her as she moved around. A small smile of triumph started to curl the corners of her lips. In fact, as she moved around the small patch of grass, Jae-il seemed to have trouble getting near the ball.
"Ha!" She exclaimed, her confidence growing. "Not so easy when you're on the other end, is it?"
He merely smiled at her. "You're really good, Mia Noona."
It was only when their mom came out to call them in for dinner that she realized he'd been letting her have her way the entire time. After all, there were many times where she stumbled and lost control of the ball, even without him doing anything.
Not once did he try to take the ball seriously, his moves always gentle and predictable. She wasn't sure if she should be furious or grateful.
But, as she sat there, watching him extend a hand to help her up, she couldn't help but feel a strange mix of emotions swirling within her.
'What's the point of being jealous? He's my brother...'
She accepted his hand.
His smile turned a tad softer.
Her breath caught in her throat.
'Why is he so…'
And then, he pulled her to her feet with a surprising strength that belied his small stature.
"Come on." He said, letting go of her hand. "Let's go back."
Mia looked at him for a long moment and followed after him.
She was so dirty, yet this afternoon was the most fun she had in a while.