At the same time, in Madrid.
About twenty kilometers from the Real Madrid administrative building, at the Las Rozas training base of the Spanish National Team.
Vicente del Bosque, the legendary head coach who led Spain to World Cup and European glory, stood by the pitch with his arms crossed. Beside him was Julen Lopetegui, the coach of the Spain U-21 squad.
The two were deep in conversation, and the atmosphere was uncharacteristically tense. The primary topic: the upcoming UEFA European Under-21 Championship and the struggle for a reliable goalscorer.
"In yesterday's scrimmage, Morata missed two more one-on-one chances," Lopetegui complained, rubbing his temples. "He has the physique of Ibrahimović, but at the moment, his finishing is causing me nightmares. I don't know what they're feeding him at Castilla, but he's playing with zero confidence."
Del Bosque stroked his thick mustache. "Be patient, Julen. He is the future of Spain's frontline. He has the potential to succeed Fernando Torres. We must guide him, not break him."
Lopetegui gave a wry smile. "Torres? If he can reach half of Torres's clinical peak, I'll thank the heavens. If it weren't for the fact that I have no other traditional center-forwards available, I'd be forced to experiment with a False Nine again."
"And what's wrong with that?" Del Bosque countered. "We won the World Cup without a traditional striker. Tiki-taka is our identity."
"Tiki-taka is being studied, Vicente," Lopetegui said firmly. "The world has seen it for five years now. Teams are getting better at parking the bus and hitting us on the counter. We need a 'Plan B', a predator in the box who doesn't need ten passes to find a shot. We need someone like the kid in the report I received this morning."
Del Bosque raised an eyebrow. "From La Fábrica?"
"No," Lopetegui replied, his expression becoming meaningful. "From La Masia. They've just promoted three kids to the B-team for the Mini-Clásico. Munir, Adama Traoré, and a new boy... an Argentinian-Spanish striker named Lorenzo. The scouts are calling him a 'ghost' with the strength of a bull. He scored twice in a trial match against the Juvenil A starters in under thirty minutes."
Del Bosque frowned. He was a Madridista at heart, and he viewed the recent hype around La Masia with a healthy dose of skepticism. "La Masia? They haven't produced a real 'nine' in a decade. They're all midfielders and wingers. But... if Sacristán is desperate enough to start him against Castilla, perhaps I should take a look."
"I'll be at the Mini Estadi this weekend," Lopetegui said. "If this Lorenzo is as good as the data suggests, I might have to check his eligibility papers. If he has a Spanish passport, we can't let Argentina snatch him away."
Meanwhile, at Haneda Airport, Japan.
A group of security guards and entourage members created a perimeter around several young girls as they moved toward the VIP boarding gate. This was Rev. from DVL, a rising idol group from Japan, heading to Spain for a promotional performance in Barcelona.
At the center of the group was fourteen-year-old Hashimoto Kanna. Though still young, she had recently been hailed by the Japanese media as a "once-in-a-millennium beauty," and her popularity was already skyrocketing across Asia.
"Kanna, did you see the football news?" one of the other girls asked, excitedly waving her phone. "We're going to Barcelona just in time for the big derby! Everyone is talking about it!"
"The derby?" Hashimoto Kanna looked up, her large eyes filled with curiosity. "Is Messi playing?"
"No, silly! It's the B-team derby! The Mini-Clásico!" the girl replied. "But our little genius Takefusa Kubo is there, remember? He's the 'Messi of Japan'!"
Kanna tilted her head. She remembered the name, a young boy who had become a national sensation for moving to Spain so young. "Is he playing in the big game?"
"Oh, no, he's still with the children's team," a more knowledgeable staff member corrected, leaning in. "But the news today is all about the B-team. They've promoted three new stars to face Real Madrid. A boy named Munir, a speedster named Adama, and this mysterious new striker, Lorenzo. The Japanese fans are a bit disappointed Kubo isn't there yet, but they're still going to the stadium to support the club."
"Lorenzo..." Kanna whispered the name, testing the sound of it.
"The Spanish media is calling him the 'Beast of La Masia,'" the girl continued. "They say he's half-Argentinian and plays like a savage. We have to get tickets, Kanna! Imagine if we're there when the next world superstar is born!"
Hashimoto Kanna smiled, her exquisite face lighting up. She wasn't a die-hard football fan, but the excitement was infectious. "A beast and a genius... it sounds like a movie. Let's go watch, then. I want to see if he's as scary as they say."
As the group boarded the plane, the buzz surrounding the Mini-Clásico continued to grow. From the tactical offices of the Spanish National Team to the pop culture hubs of Tokyo, all eyes were shifting toward the Mini Estadi.
Lorenzo didn't know it yet, but a "once-in-a-millennium" witness was on her way to see his professional debut.