The boys on the pitch were discussing the match, still impressed by what they had just witnessed.
They occasionally glanced over at Riccardo, who was talking with Coach Suzuki.
"It's not just a matter of technique. Have you noticed how much he moves?"
"Yeah. He always seems to be in the right place."
Nishimura listened silently, thinking back to some of the plays from the match.
They noticed it too, but to what extent?
His mind returned to the build-up to the second goal, when Riccardo had created space behind Aoki, allowing him to make his run.
I saw it clearly. Every movement of his was calculated to make the play develop more smoothly. This is what Mr. Ishii wanted me to see during this practice match...
Nishimura carefully observed Riccardo.
Is this the kind of player you are, Aliberti? Or is there still much more to discover?
A faint smile appeared on his face at the thought.
I can't wait to see your true football!
[A few hours later]
Riccardo returned home that evening.
As soon as he opened the door, a dog came running toward him.
"Hey, Stella!"
He closed the door, put his bag down, and knelt to pet her.
"Welcome home!"
A girl approached shortly afterward.
Her long, dark red hair, neatly tied back, swayed with every step, framing her delicate features. As she reached Riccardo, her striking green eyes settled on him.
"Thanks, Cecilia."
"How was school today?"
"Good. The football team was pretty suspicious of me at first, but I managed to convince them in the end."
Riccardo stood up and took off his shoes.
"What about you?"
"Same old classes..."
"Have you decided whether to join your school's music club?"
"Not yet."
"What's holding you back?"
They walked into the kitchen. Riccardo opened the fridge while Cecilia followed him with her eyes.
"What is this? Have you become my therapist?"
He took out a bottle of water and poured himself a glass.
"No. It's just that you don't usually talk to me about your personal life."
Cecilia lowered her gaze slightly.
"I don't have the courage to show other people how I sing..."
Riccardo took a sip of water before looking at her with a puzzled expression.
"Quite a predicament..."
She gave him a crooked smile.
"What an insightful diagnosis, Doctor."
Riccardo put the bottle down.
"How do you manage not to let anxiety get to you?"
"Who told you I don't feel anxious?"
He walked over to the sofa and sat down.
"Well, can you really say otherwise? I've never seen you worry about speaking or doing something in front of other people..."
Riccardo took a moment to think.
"Maybe because I don't care what other people think?"
Cecilia stared at him in confusion.
Why is he asking me?
"Are you a cynic? Is that what you mean?"
"Not always... only when necessary."
Cecilia sat down on a stool, looking curious.
"So you don't even listen to your friends' or family's opinions?"
Riccardo leaned back on the sofa.
"Like I said, not always. I listen to people who give me constructive advice, not those who simply judge others to make themselves feel superior."
Cecilia's expression turned sad.
"You make it sound easy..."
"It's not. I make mistakes all the time, and sometimes I end up creating difficult situations. But that's the compromise I've chosen to live my life the way I want."
Cecilia was taken aback by his words.
"Sometimes I can't tell which one of us is older."
"On paper, you are... but you're still a little girl. You cry over every little problem!"
"That's rich coming from someone who still gets angry over video games!"
Those words hit Riccardo right where it hurt.
He lowered his gaze and smiled faintly, as though accepting defeat with good sportsmanship.
"I see... Everyone has their weaknesses."
Cecilia laughed softly.
Riccardo got up from the sofa, suddenly looking serious again.
"Do me a favour. Give it a try on Monday."
She met his gaze with the same seriousness.
"Yeah... I'll give it a try!"
Riccardo sighed and walked closer to her.
"Good. Besides, you don't need my opinion to know whether you're good at singing. You have a beautiful voice."
With that, Riccardo left the room.
[Monday]
Riccardo arrived at school and checked the time on his phone. It was 7:50 a.m.
"I've actually made it here pretty early today..."
He looked around, taking in the various pitches and facilities dedicated to different sports.
Curious, he began exploring the campus.
"I still can't believe this is my school..."
His relaxed expression soon turned into one of concern.
"I wonder who my father had to sell me to in order to get me into this place..."
He kept walking until he reached an enormous athletics facility.
It's huge...
He took a closer look and spotted Sato running around the track on the opposite side.
Riccardo was surprised.
"Running at this hour..."
He watched her more carefully.
I've seen that girl somewhere before...
Suddenly, Nishimura appeared behind him.
"I know I don't know you very well yet, but... I didn't think stalking people was one of your habits."
Riccardo jumped in surprise.
"Wah! Ma si' pazz'!" (Wah! Are you crazy!)
Nishimura looked at him in confusion.
"What does that mean?"
Shimizu approached the two of them.
"Good morning, Aliberti!"
He held out his hand, and Riccardo returned the high five.
Meanwhile, Nishimura turned his attention back to Sato.
"She's the young prospect everyone's been talking about. The hundred-metre runner..."
Shimizu stepped closer for a better look.
"That's right! She won loads of regional and prefectural tournaments back in middle school. People say she could become one of Japan's future Olympic representatives!"
Riccardo joined the two.
"Interesting..."
Just then, the school bell rang, signalling the start of classes.
Nishimura turned toward Riccardo.
"Let's go."
"Sure."
The two headed toward the main building and said goodbye to Shimizu before entering their classroom.
As soon as they took their seats, some of their classmates began discussing the previous day's match.
"Did you hear about yesterday's match?"
"Yeah! Apparently, Aliberti scored two goals and got an assist!"
"I still think it was just luck. I'll believe he's good when I actually see him play!"
Nishimura heard their comments but noticed that Riccardo didn't seem to pay them any attention.
They still have their doubts... but I'm sure he can make a huge difference to the team.
The two settled into their seats just as the teacher entered the classroom.
After several more hours of lessons, the bell rang again, this time signalling the lunch break.
Nishimura approached Riccardo's desk.
"Let's go have lunch."
"Sure. Where?"
A little later, the two found themselves standing in front of a door with a sign attached to it:
"NO STUDENT ACCESS TO THE ROOF!"
Riccardo stared at it uncertainly as Nishimura casually opened the door.
"Are you sure we won't get into trouble?"
"Yeah, don't worry. I always eat up here... nobody ever comes."
Riccardo was left slightly perplexed.
So he basically just told me he has no friends...
He followed Nishimura onto the roof.
The two sat down near the railing. Nishimura took out a traditional Japanese bento, while Riccardo placed a bowl of rice, tuna, and cherry tomatoes on his lap.
Nishimura looked at it curiously.
"Is that all?"
"Should I have something else?"
They remained silent for a few moments.
Nishimura seemed hesitant, but eventually found the courage to ask a question.
"When did you start playing football?"
"I was five when I watched my first match. Just a typical Sunday in the Italian league. It was Napoli against Juventus..."
Nishimura interrupted him.
"I assume you supported Napoli, considering where you're from..."
"No, I'm a Juventus fan. We won that match 3–1 away from home."
Nishimura looked puzzled.
"Oh... I see."
Riccardo smiled faintly.
"At first, I couldn't understand why my father got so emotional over every single play. But as I watched more matches, I gradually began to understand. I wanted to be able to give other people those same emotions."
"Is that why you play?"
"Partly. Let's just say that's where it all began."
Nishimura nodded, intrigued.
"Did you join a football academy straight away?"
"Yeah, of course. But I didn't like them. The system in Italy is far too corrupt. So I found an alternative: playing football in the streets with my friends, enjoying myself and expressing myself however I wanted with the ball."
"Street football..."
"Exactly. I didn't have any great coaches or tactical systems to follow. We just played. I could try whatever came into my head."
Nishimura smiled slightly.
"That must have been fun."
"It was."
For a few moments, the two remained silent.
"It was different for me," Nishimura continued. "The first time I truly fell in love with football was when I watched Barcelona play."
"Let me guess: the famous 6–1 against PSG?"
"Exactly! I was amazed by how they managed to control the match through possession. From that moment on, I started paying more and more attention to the game."
Riccardo looked at him with interest.
"So you're mainly interested in the tactical side of things?"
"Not just that. I like understanding what's happening on the pitch. Why a player moves into a certain area, why another decides to stay where he is... things like that."
Riccardo gave a faint smile.
"Now I understand a few things."
"Like what?"
"During the match, you were always trying to figure out where space would open up. You weren't just watching the ball."
Nishimura lowered his gaze slightly, almost embarrassed.
"That's what I try to do."
"Well, keep it up. You've got great technique and excellent vision."
"Thanks..."
"Anyway, my dream is to make it to Juventus."
Nishimura looked at him in surprise.
"I want to play for Barcelona."
The two looked at each other for a few seconds.
Then Riccardo smiled.
"Looks like we've still got a long way to go."