Field of Dreams: Year 1

Field of Dreams: Year 1

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It all started with a match. One simple match. Just a match between Argentina and Saudi Arabia. The match on November 22nd. . Then, she discovered the thing called World Cup. The World Cup (with capital letters). The one thing that united the world. The one thing that was circling in her mind. Wherever she went. Whoever she was with. Whatever she was doing. . This was the one thing that made her discover an entirely new side of herself. The one thing that made her fall in love with the beautiful game we all know. Football. . It wasn't like her other interests. It wasn't like Biology. It wasn't like Physics. It wasn't like English. But yet, it brought the same feelings to her. Unceasing enthusiasm and eagerness to learn and get the most of it. In every way possible. . "This pitch really has lighting?!" "I-I don't know," she looked at her lap again with a gaze filled with truthfulness. "Are you sure?" "For a confident person, you're quite unsure." "Who said I was confident?"
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It began in two worlds that never should have touched - Seoul, where silence was survival, and Tenerife, where sunlight touched everything gold. Shin YN, the girl who once lived behind glass walls and poisoned whispers, grew up learning that love could be both a weapon and a wound. Her only escape came from a dream - one her mother carried her toward after the world at home fell apart. And in that faraway island, under skies that smelled of salt and warmth, she met a boy with a ball at his feet and fire in his heart. Pedri González - the boy who played like the sun itself moved with him. The boy who looked at her once and made a promise that time could not erase. Years passed. She became YN Rodríguez - the voice that shook stadiums and the name the world screamed in lights. He became the player whose feet carried stories across every pitch in Spain. Fate had split them apart before they ever understood what they were to each other. But destiny - in its quiet, unhurried way - never really forgot. Because sometimes, the past doesn't fade. It waits. It watches. It finds its way back when you least expect it. And when it does... will the promise they made still mean the same?

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