The Holy Prince #2
Just like in training... just like in training...
If he simply did what he had trained for, he would be fine.
That resolve proved hollow the moment the match resumed after Yohan came on. He ran into serious trouble right away.
Tick—! A skidding scrape across the grass...
“Ah...”
He had gone to take a pass coming his way and completely mistimed the touch.
The ball glanced off, slid along the turf, slipped straight between his legs, and rolled out of play. Staring blankly after it, Yohan seriously wondered whether he could even last the remaining fifteen minutes or so.
“It’s okay, man! Just loosen up!”
During the opponent’s throw-in, Miguel came running over to take up his defensive position and clapped Yohan hard on the back in encouragement.
And Yohan—
Slap—!
—struck his own cheek with real force.
It was because of the thought he had just had. The very mindset of “I just need to hang on” was all wrong, so he berated that pathetic side of himself and steeled his resolve.
How stupid.
Fortunately, the stinging pain snapped his wandering focus right back into place. Feeling that, Yohan raised one hand apologetically toward the bewildered Miguel and his teammates.
He quickly moved to mark an opposing player and confirmed the throw-in was coming his way.
A rookie, overly tense on his debut. That made him delicious prey for the opposition. In crude terms, free meat. That was how Sassuolo must have been looking at Yohan right now—and this throw-in was the proof.
His pride thoroughly wounded, Yohan lunged in the instant the defender in front of him touched the ball and tried to dribble, determined to win it.
Thud—!
“Guh...!”
But he was shoved back helplessly, as if bounced off. The opponent’s body was far more solid than he had imagined. He had contested plenty of duels with his own defenders in First Team training, but this was worse. It felt like facing an unbreakable wall no matter how hard he hit it.
Ah, damn...!
Gritting his teeth, Yohan chased after the player who had shrugged him off and sprinted away. A teammate soon came over to cover from the defensive line, and Yohan tried to win the ball through cooperative defending.
But—
Tap.
The opposing player deliberately kicked the ball into Yohan’s legs, and it went out of play again, rendering the double-team useless.
“Ha...”
In that moment, Yohan fully grasped the cold ruthlessness that the words “real match” carried. He had been used so simply it was almost laughable. If he did not get his head on straight, he would drag Roma into the pit of defeat himself.
Slap—! Slap slap!
This time he slapped both cheeks hard, several times, and saw Lorenzo making a gesture toward him to calm down.
He must not get worked up. Understanding what Lorenzo was trying to say, Yohan buried the desperate urgency and impatience he had been carrying deep in his chest. Then he thought. How to survive in a situation packed with monsters like this, and how to show the form he produced in training.
Alright.
Yohan coolly assessed his own position and the opponent’s, cooling his head.
The match resumed with the throw-in going the other way. When the defender Nathan suddenly stepped up to cut off the passing lane and intercepted the ball, Yohan quickly pushed forward and predicted the position.
The ensuing counterattack. Miguel, who had surged up and received the pass, one-touched it to Yohan. Even after seeing that earlier mess of a play, the position was simply too good not to give it.
In that moment, Yohan—who had his back to goal in the opponent’s half waiting for the pass—felt a heavy presence behind him. A defender had closed in and planted an arm on his back.
Can’t go straight at him.
Physical battle. In this situation, no matter how resolved he was, that was where he would lose. The physical gap was that severe. The opponent was experienced too—if he tried to contest honestly, he would just get used again.
With his center of gravity slightly leaning into the opponent, Yohan let the ball that was skimming quickly across the grass roll past. And before even seeing it slip between his legs, he used the weight he had been resting on the opponent to spin his body.
—Oooooooh...!
At the same time, gasps of admiration erupted from the stands. The play that sent the ball between himself and the opponent and so easily peeled the defender off—a flash of pure genius—was a delight to the eyes.
Sassuolo’s line was pushed quite high. They were pressing Roma from advanced positions to chase an equalizer. Which meant the space in front of Yohan, after he had beaten the fullback in the half-space, was wide open.
Boom—!
Yohan drove a long ball into the vast space ahead and sprinted after it. Then the hazy vision that had felt like grasping at clouds sharpened, and things began to come into view. The Sassuolo defender coming to cover the space ahead. The Roma attackers rising with him, and their expected paths... All of it painted itself in Yohan’s mind.
Tap, tap.
Even as the distance to the Sassuolo defender closed, Yohan did not slow at all. He raced to the edge of the penalty box and slipped a through ball to the right-back surging from the opposite side—Aiden Mackenzie, who shared a name with Haley’s younger brother.
Boom—!
With a crisp sound, the ball with heavy spin stretched out in a long arc, and sensing he had placed the pass perfectly, Yohan was already cutting into the center of the box before the ball even reached Mackenzie’s feet.
In the meantime, Lorenzo, arriving a beat later, had peeled off behind Mackenzie after he received the ball, creating space. Mackenzie did not miss it—he laid the ball off softly to Lorenzo, and Lorenzo, about to play a ground cross to a teammate twisting between two recovering Sassuolo defenders, realized Yohan’s position behind him was better and played it there instead.
Tap—.
Wha...!
Yohan was briefly startled by the ball coming his way, but since he had already taken up a good shooting position, he moved his foot as if there was nothing more to think about.
Booom—!
Thanks to his natural ankle strength, the ball rocketed out like a cannonball, cleverly clearing a Sassuolo defender’s shoulder, and—
Ting—!
—smashed into the post and bounced out.
“Ugh...!”
Yohan despaired, but his body was already moving to claim the second ball that was now free. Luckily for him, the shot had hit the lower, rounded part of the post. So the ball did not loft up but bounced on the ground. Even knowing the opposing defender was stretching a foot out, Yohan dove forward and threw his head at it.
He just stuck his head out without a second thought. He was so set on winning the ball and feeding it to the open Lorenzo that he had no room to think about danger or anything else.
Whoosh—! Thud—!
Studs that cut deeper than Yohan’s hair, grazing the side of his scalp. And the ball that met his forehead and headed toward Lorenzo.
Booom—!
Lorenzo smashed it with a first-time volley, and the counterattack that had begun with Nathan’s interception was brilliantly turned into a result.
Thwack—!
—Yaaaaaaaaaah!!!
The moment the additional goal went in, the crowd went berserk. A roar that rolled through the entire stadium and beyond. Among them were Haley and her group, who had been on their feet since the moment Yohan broke through along the sideline.
“Wooooah!! Fuck!!”
Ciro, who had been nervously sucking down cola, flung the plastic cup he was holding the instant the goal went in. Getting doused in the dark fizzy drink, he hugged his friend and celebrated the assist Yohan had recorded.
“Is this guy for real...!!”
Haley, who had cola splashed on her face thanks to Ciro’s crude antics, was annoyed, but decided to generously forgive the bastard just for today. Beer and the like were already flying everywhere anyway, and rather than waste time getting mad at that little punk, replaying Yohan’s brilliant hustle play was far more worthwhile.
She knew nothing about football, but she could tell right away that Yohan had put in a really good performance. Even a fool would know. The MVP of that sequence just now was Yohan. Especially that incredibly technical, eye-pleasing dribble he had shown earlier, peeling the opponent off in an instant—it was still replaying in her head.
Honestly, after seeing his play right after coming on, she had been despairing. But Yohan had overcome it brilliantly. The result was the roar that was now shaking the entire stadium.
For a little dummy...
Completely immersed in the heat of the stadium, in Roma, and in Yohan’s play, Haley hugged Emma and jumped up and down, unbothered by the beer and drinks spraying around them.
And Yohan, who had dived, got up and headed toward Lorenzo, who was surrounded by teammates, wanting to share the joy. Then Lorenzo pushed through the players and thoroughly ruffled Yohan’s hair.
“You made all of this! Well done!”
After delivering that concise praise, he bent at the waist, shoved his head between Yohan’s legs, gripped his thighs tight, and stood up.
“Wha...!”
Suddenly riding on Lorenzo’s shoulders, Yohan wore a dazed expression. But only for a moment. As Lorenzo carried him around the sideline and the crowd answered with cheers, his expression gradually changed.
Lorenzo’s intention of giving Yohan all the credit had clearly worked. The crowd focused their attention on Yohan and showered him with unstinting praise. Realizing that, a thrill ran through Yohan’s entire body. Goosebumps prickled his arms, his body trembled, and a pure, wide-open smile blossomed across his face.
From a viewpoint that was almost twice as high as usual, feeling an enormous whirlwind of emotion, Yohan unconsciously thrust both arms high into the sky.
“Uwaaaaaaah!!!”
Then he went wild, roaring along with the crowd—until Miguel and Richie stopped Lorenzo.
“Enzo, Gio’s bleeding! His head’s busted open!”
“We need to get him to the medical staff! Put him down already!”
Startled by the two men’s urgent urging, Lorenzo set Yohan down. And sure enough, two thin lines of bright red blood were streaming down from Yohan’s forehead.
“Hey, you okay?”
Miguel’s worried question. Yohan blinked in confusion and asked back.
“Huh? What?”
“Your head, you idiot. You’re bleeding right now.”
“For real?”
Miguel let out a hollow laugh at Yohan, so lost in the moment he did not even know he was bleeding, and pointed to the touchline.
“Don’t touch it—go to the medical staff, quick.”
“Ah, okay.”
Blinking, Yohan ran to the medical staff with a dazed look. The wound was on the upper forehead, and fortunately it was not large. Just a slight tear that did not even need stitches. The medical staff cleaned the area well and applied a waterproof bandage for a simple first-aid treatment.
Slap—!
Back on the pitch, Yohan high-fived the players who were already in position, then shared a firm hug with Lorenzo last of all before returning to his spot. As he did, he clenched one fist tight.
After floundering early on after coming in, succeeding with the dribble and even getting the assist had given him confidence. Especially being able to assist a goal for his idol Lorenzo felt wonderful. And when Lorenzo had given him a shoulder ride and the crowd had gone crazy yelling all sorts of things, he had felt like he could fly.
It had been a spectacular day. But he could not get too drunk on it. The match was not even halfway through the first half yet. From here on Sassuolo’s attacks would get much fiercer, and if he did something stupid like earlier he could throw the game away himself.
Besides, one side of his chest was still empty. It still meant he was hungry. An assist alone was not nearly enough. He had not shown his true ability yet.