Ppiiik—!
The moment the whistle blew.
"Waaaaaaah—!"
The cheers, which hadn't stopped even once throughout the game, erupted even louder.
The roar erupting from the stadium packed with 80,000 people was truly ecstatic and dizzying.
And beyond those cheers, the man in a suit walking on the grass of the ground stood aloof, like a black and white figure amidst the diverse colors of boisterous cheers, resentment, and frustration.
―Ah, in the end, Manager Yoojin once again led Dortmund to clinch the Champions League title! The Big Eared trophy heads to Dortmund!
―Dortmund, a prestigious club of the past that had fallen due to mismanaged finances from continued investment failures and an aging squad, announced its revival by grasping the Champions League trophy!
―With this victory, Manager Yoojin Fischer recorded his third Champions League win of his career, and had lifted a total of thirteen trophies including league titles and various other competitions, hadn't he?
―It was not for nothing that he was called the greatest manager of this era!
―The fallen giants Manchester United, Athletico Madrid who hadn't won the league even once in 10 years, AC Milan who had dismantled their squad to the brink due to financial problems, and now even Dortmund! He had lifted trophies with all those teams!
―From the field, an interview with Manager Yoojin Fischer, who had achieved another great feat, will now take place!
"Sincere congratulations on winning the Champions League, Manager!"
"Yes, thank you."
"You are now undeniably the greatest manager, having lifted the Champions league trophy three times. Your journey to this point must have started 13 years ago in Bochum, where you began your first managerial career! You made the risky and gamble-like choice of taking on the firefighter role at Bochum, a position everyone avoided. Since that choice ultimately created a great manager, it must have been the best choice!"
"..."
Yoojin did not answer and showed an indifferent gaze, as if looking somewhere else.
The interviewer was momentarily flustered but quickly changed their expression. It seemed that because he was intoxicated by the victory, no words would register with him right now.
"This seems like the happiest day of your life, how do you feel?"
In response to that, the focus of his distant eyes returned.
A faint smile formed.
A slightly bitter one.
"Yes, I am happy."
.
As if wondering when the frenzied celebration had even occurred.
The locker room, where popped champagne flowed stickily on the floor, was silent.
As night passed and dawn approached, the fans who had cheered like mad had left and were rampaging in the streets, and the players, after dancing in the locker room, had also left their spots to spend the night with their families.
The locker room, settled in silence, felt somehow bitter.
Whether it was because of the atmosphere, or because of my mood.
Sitting on a cold chair, I quietly took out my phone.
A third Champions League trophy.
It was a happy day to commemorate.
If only one thing was excluded.
I took out and looked at the text message saved on my phone.
A routine, like something experienced daily.
Whenever things were toughest, in every moment of crisis, I had taken out and looked at that day's text message.
I had overcome, endured, and triumphed.
I had won.
'Otherwise… I wouldn't have been able to bear it.'
The familiar content of the text message came into view.
―No one wants to take charge of Mansfield. Help me.
That was right.
Today was the anniversary of her death.
Gazing at the text message, I closed my eyes.
The silence of the locker room pulled up distant memories.
.
In my life, while football was everything, it was not all there was.
As a coach, I had steadily built my career. A coach in the Bundesliga, a youth team manager, and then a chief coach for the B-team. It was a standard path, and it had gone well. As if it were a reward for past failures.
As a player, I had failed. I didn't go around boasting about my career to others. It wasn't because I was ashamed.
There was such a team? Was there such a player too?
Questions that seemed purely curious, not mocking or scornful.
I didn't even introduce myself as a former football player. Because I would have had to explain more. The fact that it was a team that had spent over 100 years in the lower leagues, the fact that I was a youth product of such a team. The fact that I only played for the B-team, and had retired after playing less than ten first-team matches.
It was just genuinely troublesome to explain.
Still, when I reached around thirty-three, there was no longer a need to bother explaining.
Even if I didn't say anything, the sensational news explained it well.
Still, I didn't deliberately boast about my career.
It wasn't that I was ashamed.
It was just, because it was troublesome.
Really.
.
Life was a series of choices.
One could not always make good choices. I knew that well too. What seemed best at the time often became regret after time passed.
―No one wants to take charge of Mansfield. Help me.
When the call came from an old friend.
I had no choice but to refuse.
It was a common occurrence for a club in the relegation zone to dismiss its manager.
It was also natural that it was difficult to find a manager willing to be deployed as a firefighter for a team that needed to win all of its remaining five games to stay up.
It was also a plausible, though not frequent, occurrence for the chief coach, part of the manager's staff, to resign at the same time.
However, for the B-team's manager to also tender their resignation simultaneously was an uncommon situation.
Yes, the opportunity that came to me was not a common one.
It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
A brilliant chance to go from coach to manager.
Of course, it was poison. Relegation was as clear as day, right before my eyes. The two words 'relegation' would follow my first managerial career like a lifelong tag.
However, I was desperate. I had failed as a player. I wanted to succeed as a manager. To succeed, I first had to become a manager. And not a manager in the lower leagues, but a Bundesliga manager. A manager of a club in one of the world's top four leagues.
Because if I miraculously succeeded in avoiding relegation as caretaker manager, it was a chance to become the permanent manager.
I accepted, and
I refused my friend's request.
Against the backdrop of streets where a festival of laughter and chatter over the victory was taking place, I drove home alone.
―Now, well, you had to see it as Manager Yoojin Fischer's era. Even if he moved teams, his football was powerful! You asked why? It was not just because his tactics were groundbreaking or sensational.
―He changed the team, that man. He overhauled the team itself, so its very foundation became solid, making it unshakable in any situation. Perhaps, even if he spent the day popping champagne with a loved one right now, from the very next day, he would focus solely on football again.
Listening to the words flowing from the haphazardly turned-on TV, I opened a bottle of champagne.
I didn't know much about alcohol. I didn't enjoy it, nor did I particularly want to know about it.
But my throat kept gulping.
―No one wants to take charge of Mansfield. Help me.
Her text message was still there. I hadn't even been able to send a reply of refusal.
No, I hadn't sent one. Because I was afraid she would ask more persistently. Afraid I wouldn't be able to refuse an old friend's request.
Silence.
That was my answer, a cold-hearted refusal, and our last contact.
I stared at the message for a long time. I placed my hand on the delete button.
I just kept it there for a long while. Time passed. My vision blurred.
What whim had come over me? I slowly moved my fingers.
I pressed firmly on the screen, towards a place it would no longer reach.
―Okay, I'll help you.
A text message sent belatedly, though it wouldn't reach.
I threw the phone to the other side of the bed. I wanted to alleviate my guilt, even if just in this way.
Was it because of a sense of relief, or because I had unburdened my heart even a little? In an instant, the effect of the alcohol surged up from within, and as if someone had pressed a button and turned off the world, my vision went black.
"...!"
And just like that, as if fainting, I slammed my head onto the table.
Vzzz— Vzzz—!
The cellphone, vibrating and ringing simultaneously.
I barely managed to clutch my forehead and awkwardly got up from the table.
Perhaps it was because I had been lying prostrate on a hard table, leaving aside an expensive bed worth millions of won.
My whole body ached as if bruised.
But even that pain.
The moment I saw the phone screen, it all vanished as if washed away. In a dull shock, I froze.
A call came from my friend.
If something unbelievable happened, anyone would be flustered.
I was flustered, but soon came to my senses. I wasn't seeing things because I was drunk. I thought carefully.
'It must be someone else.'
Someone must have activated a phone with my dead friend's number.
That's why they probably called, wondering about the out-of-the-blue text message saying I'd help.
"Hello?"
I hoped my drunken voice wouldn't cause any displeasure.
Such trivial thoughts soon vanished without a trace at the familiar voice coming from the other end.
-Yoojin! Is it true? Are you really going to help? Are you really, really saying you'll come to our team? For real?
Her beautiful voice rang out sharply.
...Lily, it was my friend.
As if possessed, I pulled the phone away from my face and checked the date.
I had returned to the past.
To the time that had been the moment of choice. As I recognized reality, and while my head was in turmoil, Lily's undoubtedly alive voice rang out continuously.
-Oh my god. I sent that text as a last resort, even though I knew it probably, really wouldn't work out. Is it true? I saw the news saying you were going to be the caretaker manager? Are you really saying you'll come to our team?
No matter how good a voice was, when it rose in an overly excited tone, it wasn't comfortable to listen to. But I couldn't take my ears away.
I barely managed to squeeze out a reply.
"...Wait a moment, Lily."
-Oh, sorry. I got too excited, didn't I? Sorry, I'm really sorry. Calling you at this time of night, I was really out of my mind....
Life was a series of choices.
I had chosen Bochum, built the best career, and at the same time, lost a beloved friend, and cut out my entire past under the name 'the other side of memories'.
When I remained silent, only shallow breathing could be heard from the other end of the call.
"...Lily."
-Mm-hm?
"Let's meet and talk."
-Meet? Wait, you're in Bochum, right? If I clear my schedule as much as possible this week, then maybe....
"Tomorrow."
-Tomorrow? Wait, that's impossible. Impossible! Tomorrow is impossible.
"I'll go to Mansfield."
-What?
"See you tomorrow."
-Wai, wait! Hey!
Mansfield in Nottinghamshire was a small city.
Its population was less than 70,000.
The stagnant population hadn't changed much from the past.
The city was the same. The streets, shops, atmosphere, and people of that time.
"I never thought I'd see you again in Mansfield, of all places. If I knew this would happen, maybe I should have met you more often sooner?"
Lily, who was waiting in the coffee shop, greeted me with a cheerful face.
Her childhood appearance overlapped. The smile that was always confident and bold, unbefitting a child.
I thought for a moment. I was thirty-three, and she was now twenty-nine.
It had been exactly 13 years.
During that time, we had exchanged light greetings over the phone, albeit infrequently.
But it had been a really long time since I had seen her face like this.
If I calculated the time before returning to the past, it was more than double that time since I had last seen her face.
Words didn't come out. As if possessed by something, I had swiftly bought a ticket and rushed here in one go, but I hadn't thought about what to say.
"Why, is it because my face changed so much? Did I get too ugly?"
She joked, unlike her usual self. I shook my head vigorously. Words I could say barely came to mind.
"I'll do it."
"What?"
"I said I'll take the Mansfield manager job."
Her eyes widened. The sailors already aboard Mansfield were all clamoring to escape the sinking ship; would there be a captain willing to board it?
An expression of disbelief appeared on Lily's face. Beyond it, a look full of ecstasy slowly revealed itself.
Yes, I came to see that face.
If I chose Bochum, I would succeed. I would prevent relegation, become the permanent manager, and after consecutively winning the Europa League, I would receive love calls from leading big clubs.
It was something that would definitely happen. I would move between big clubs, lifting trophies wherever I went, and I would be smiling amidst splendid praises as the best manager, with championship cups displayed in front of a showcase.
That was the future I had experienced. A history of brilliant success was right before my eyes.
However, leaving all of that behind, I came here.
To see that face again.
"You said there was no one to take the manager job, right?"
"That's right. The situation right now is… Yoojin. I know it's shameless, but because I really thought this was the last resort, only you came to mind."
No one would take it.
There was no idiot who would buy a ticket for a direct train to hell knowing what it was.
There was no captain foolish enough to board a collapsing shipwreck.
But I was different.
I could derail the hell-bound train, and I could plug the holes of a collapsing shipwreck and cross the ocean.
Yes, I could do it.
That's why I came to this place. Not Bochum, but now, I chose again.
What I had wanted wasn't a brilliant career.
It was Mansfield, where Lily was.
"There are conditions."
Lily straightened her face. It momentarily changed to a businesswoman's expression. It was surprising, yet natural. Her family had long been famous as local businesspeople, and Lily definitely had business acumen.
She realized it wasn't a private meeting, but a public one for a managerial contract. Lily paused to compose her breath and spoke in a somewhat subdued voice.
"Conditions? Yes, of course. But the club's situation is the worst right now... As for the salary, there's a possibility I won't be able to give you even as much as when you were a coach."
"No, that's not my condition."
I cut her off. Hmm, I took back my earlier thought. For a businesswoman, her emotions were all showing on her face.
Her face was anxious about what conditions I might set. In that moment, I also relaxed completely.
It was indeed Lily. That bold little girl Lily. The Lily from back then who had come to the youth training ground and abruptly declared she wanted a player friend and that we should be friends.
"You must not die."
"What...?"
Lily, not understanding the meaning of my words, tilted her head.
I added to my story.
"This is my condition. You have to be at Mansfield."
"Of course I'm at Mansfield?"
"Continuously."
"Continuously?"
"If, for any reason, you are not at Mansfield, I won't remain at Mansfield either."
"..."
She couldn't answer and mumbled. I stood up from my seat.
"And let's go to the hospital first."
"No, what on earth are you talking about? What kind of conditions are those? And why the hospital all of a sudden?"
"That's my second condition. If you do this too, I'll take the manager job."
"Wait a minute, what kind of managerial contract is done like this? Is this how they do it in Germany? No, the salary and things like that..."
"I told you. My only condition is you being here. Oh, and going to the hospital is also added."
An expression of incomprehension appeared on her face. Lily, under my pressure, awkwardly got up and muttered as we headed to the hospital.
"What is this, he wasn't like this originally. Did he suffer a lot in Germany? Did he miss his hometown? Is it homesickness? What on earth is it."
Seeing her look as if a circuit somewhere had broken, a smile inadvertently escaped me.
I momentarily stopped walking.
"And Lily."
"Mm-hm?"
"I missed you."
Saying that, I turned my back again and headed towards the hospital.
Muttering was heard from behind me.
"What on earth happened to him in Germany. Why did he come back a changed person."
I had to change.
Only then would this current choice not become a regret.