Riccardo arrived at school, crossing the expansive outdoor courtyard, taking in the facilities dedicated to every sport imaginable.
Wow… compared to yesterday, this place really feels exclusive.
As he walked, he noticed students glancing at him, some curious, some indifferent. Word spreads quickly here.
He entered the classroom through the back door, where his desk was waiting, set down his backpack, and took his seat. Around him, students chatted in small groups. The school had been in session for just over two weeks, yet the friend circles were already firmly established.
Nishimura sat alone, focused on his phone. Riccardo observed quietly, noting the posture, the distance from the group.
The teacher entered the classroom.
"Good morning!"
As soon as class ended, Nishimura left quickly. Riccardo followed his line of thought: He must be heading somewhere important—the club leader said I should meet him first.
Riccardo left the classroom.
Nishimura arrived at the locker room, stepping inside where other boys were changing.
"Good morning, Nishimura!"
Shimizu, already in his training suit with spiked shoes, greeted him.
"Good morning, Shimizu."
"Get ready! It's Friday, which means a full practice match with the team."
"I know. That's why I'm pumped," Nishimura replied, his eyes reflecting the eagerness to play.
Shimizu noticed and smiled. "Good. Then I'll hit the field." He opened the door and left.
Nishimura settled at his locker, opening his travel bag.
"Hey, Nishimura! Heard about the new guy in your class."
A tall boy approached—about 1.86 meters, black hair with a streak of blonde, sharp orange eyes, strong build.
"What do you think?"
"I don't know yet. Haven't formed an opinion." Nishimura shrugged.
The boy sat next to him, pulling on his practice jersey.
"This is my senior year. In all these years, I've never seen anyone get in just on a recommendation. Right, Kaneko?"
He turned to another boy—1.84 meters, blonde hair, green eyes, well-built.
"Noguchi… I don't care about this. If he got in thanks to a recommendation, he's probably useless."
Kaneko tied his right shoe, stood, and walked to the door. The first boy watched him leave.
"Same old…"
Then he stood, too. "I'm out. See you on the court."
Nishimura finished changing, full of focus, and followed onto the field.
The court was alive with movement as the team warmed up.
Nishimura scanned the field, frowning. "Where's the coach?"
A shorter boy, Tanaka, 1.68 meters, brown hair, brown eyes, replied, "Not here, as usual."
"I mean Coach Suzuki."
Shimizu, mid-warm-up, glanced at Nishimura. "Speak of the devil…"
A sharp clap drew everyone's attention.
All eyes turned toward the entrance. An elderly man, about 65, neatly combed white hair, piercing yellow eyes, approached.
"Gather around! I have an announcement."
Curiosity rippled through the team.
"I wanted Coach Ishii to tell you, but as we know, he isn't here. So—news: you'll have a new teammate."
Nishimura's hand went to his forehead in quiet frustration.
"Come in, Aliberti!"
Riccardo stepped onto the field, wearing his practice uniform. Eyes followed him. Cold, skeptical, curious—some neutral.
He stopped before the team, next to Coach Suzuki.
"Good morning. I'm Riccardo Yui Aliberti, a first-year student. I play central striker, but I can cover other positions as needed. I hope we can win a lot together."
A wave of silence followed. No words, only cold stares. Riccardo remained impassive, reading their expressions.
They hate me here… or maybe some just don't care.
He spotted Nishimura across the field and offered a small, calm smile. Nishimura looked away quickly.
"Thank you, Aliberti. Now, join them so we can finish the warm-up."
Riccardo stepped toward the others.
As warm-ups wrapped, a third-year whispered to Nishimura. "So, it's him."
"Yes…" Nishimura's tone was neutral.
"He seems… competent. And…" The boy glanced at Riccardo stretching, noting his lean, athletic frame. "He trains hard."
"Being fit doesn't mean you know soccer," Nishimura muttered.
Coach Suzuki whistled. "Enough! Grab your balls and cones. Dribbling and shooting drills!"
Players picked up balls and lined up. Cones marked paths from the edge of the penalty area to Suzuki's position. Each player would dribble through, pass, and shoot while goalkeepers rotated.
Riccardo stepped forward with a ball.
"Aliberti! Go to the back. Watch the drill first."
Confused, he complied. I have to watch to follow a simple drill… fine.
Coach Suzuki blew the whistle. The first player darted through the cones, passed, received, shot—missed.
Shimizu leaned on Nishimura's shoulder. "Look, we've got fans."
Outside the field, some students watched. Mostly indifferent… or perhaps quietly judging.
Tanaka approached the drill with lightning speed, flawless technique, scoring cleanly. Shimizu followed, elegant and precise, scoring as well.
Riccardo watched them, analyzing patterns, strengths, weaknesses.
Then Nishimura prepared to shoot. Perfect instep strike. Goal.
At that moment, Mister Ishii appeared. Tall, mid-30s, black hair, piercing black eyes, wearing a tracksuit.
"Enough drills. Friday. Let's play a game." His gaze swept the field, finally resting on Riccardo. Calm, calculating.
"Two teams. One condition: Aliberti and Nishimura play together in a 4-4-2. Aliberti, main striker. Nishimura, right behind."
Shock rippled. Kaneko's jaw tightened, fists clenching.
"What!? Our main playmaker? Our forward setup?" he snapped.
Ishii's look froze him in place. "Any problem?"
"No… just… ready to crush my rival." Kaneko muttered, glaring at Riccardo.
Riccardo met his eyes briefly. I see you. Let's see who actually moves first.
Ishii continued, assigning teams and positions. Nishimura would lead one, Ishii coaching. Suzuki led Kaneko's.
Five minutes later, teams set.
"Do you have your uniform?" Nishimura asked Riccardo.
"Yes."
"Good. Bibs on top."
Riccardo complied, revealing the number 24 on his jersey.
The real game begins now.