Derby della Capitale
"Holy shit..."
Even back when they'd faced each other once in the Primavera, Yohan had thought the guy was a monster — and he was still good enough now to draw that same breathless admiration.
The object of Yohan's stunned awe was Francesco Grasso.
In this match against Milan, Roma was getting thoroughly dismantled. It was only the twentieth minute of the first half, and they'd already conceded two goals. The situation was dire. At this rate, a third and fourth were coming.
The fixture had been a major talking point long before kickoff. The clash between two of the biggest prospects in the game — Grasso and Yohan — had drawn enormous attention. But once the whistle blew, the entire team was being dragged around by Grasso alone.
The atmosphere at San Siro was no joke either. The passion of the fans made it crystal clear why AC Milan was considered a powerhouse club, and neither Roma nor Yohan could help but feel the weight of it.
The final score: Roma lost 2–1. The head-to-head between Grasso and Yohan ended in Grasso's victory. Yohan managed a late consolation goal in the second half, but the momentum never carried, and the match simply ran out.
Tasting defeat for the first time since his promotion to the First Team, Yohan bowed his head and forced down the fury boiling inside him.
Man of the Match went to Grasso. One goal and a performance that lived up to his reputation — of course he was named the standout player.
"Haa..."
Nothing but sighs filled the cabin of the plane. Coach Ferraro watched his players' mental state and gave a small, approving nod. It was far better than laughing it off and chattering as if a loss were nothing. Once they were back in Rome, he used the press conference to redirect every arrow of criticism aimed at the squad onto himself.
"Hey. Sulking because you lost?"
Haley came over to where Yohan was sprawled sideways on the couch watching TV, pressed herself against his back, and tossed out the provocation.
"No...? I was just watching TV."
"You don't look very focused."
"You're imagining things."
"I'm not imagining anything. Are you even going to talk to me properly?"
Poke. Poke.
Haley jabbed her index finger into Yohan's side over and over. Lately she had changed a little — ever since Yohan had told her not to go back to the United States. The measure of that change was the distance she kept from him. Before, even when she stuck close, there had always been some space. Now she clung to him like a cicada without the slightest hesitation.
"That tickles. Stop poking me."
"Want me to poke harder, then?"
"I said stop poking. Why would you offer to poke harder?"
"Because I just feel like bothering you."
Yohan usually took Haley's constant pestering in stride, but these days he had started doing things he never used to. Things like tickling the soles of her feet while she sat cross-legged scrolling on her phone — purely out of boredom. Trivial stuff like that.
Either way, without either of them ever putting a name to what they were, the range of their physical closeness had naturally expanded. If their old relationship had been like that of completely unguarded childhood friends, this felt like something that had grown a little further.
"How did you even know we lost, though? Did you watch it on TV?"
"Yeah. The kids kept whining about wanting to see it, so I specially went with them."
"You went to school? In the evening?"
"Yeah. They must've been that bored."
"That's not like you."
"What's 'like me,' then? Skipping class?"
"Hmm... I think I said the wrong thing."
"Looking for another reason to get hit, are you?"
Time spent with Haley was genuinely good. His heart felt light, and he laughed more. Which made it all the more bittersweet as the days went on — because once she left for America, he wouldn't get to enjoy this kind of life nearly as often.
As the season wore on, the outline of the league's top table gradually came into focus. Near the end of the first half of the campaign, Serie A had Juventus pulling slightly clear of second-place Milan and charging toward first, with Napoli and Roma sitting third and fourth. Lazio, Inter, and Atalanta were hot on their heels.
Roma had tasted defeat again after the Milan match — this time against Juventus. They had also taken the occasional sucker punch from weaker sides, and against strong teams like Inter they were collecting losses or draws, leaving their ranking stuck in place.
In the Europa League, though, they sat top of their group with a perfect record. A favorable draw played a part, but so did the fact that Roma — a club without a single international trophy — had decided to go all-in on winning the Europa.
Why am I this exhausted...?
Yohan's stamina was hitting its limit. He was starting to understand why clubs hated — and sometimes refused — international call-ups for their players.
Was it the snacking? No. He wasn't eating junk every day, and his overall nutrition followed the prescribed diet closely enough that he couldn't pin it on that. As matches piled up, the fatigue on players who started every game was compounding, and muscle recovery was slowing. That seemed to be it.
And yet Miguel — whose role demanded the heaviest physical toll of anyone in the system — was still bouncing around full of energy. Was it all that mate tea he drank at every opportunity? Was mate tea truly a cure-all?
Either way, Yohan finally felt he truly understood the advice Miguel had given him last season: that managing your stamina was essential.
In truth, the other players were worn down too. Mackenzie and Solomon, who served as the engine in the third line, especially so. This was exactly when rotation players were needed — but their quality wasn't quite there, so Coach Ferraro had only used them a handful of times early on and then stopped.
Now, though, it was time to increase their minutes and preserve the starters' legs. Otherwise the club would end up crippled by injuries the way it had last season. And with more and more crucial matches stacking up as the campaign progressed, rotation wasn't optional anymore. It was mandatory.
"Gio!"
"Yeah?"
"Let's play a round!"
"Got it! Coming out!"
A short break before Christmas. At the sound of Aiden's voice from outside, Yohan scrambled out of bed and headed for the door.
Lately Yohan had the sense that he was drifting a little from his friends. Not because they were pushing him away — but because his popularity kept climbing, and they couldn't go out into the city together anymore. Plenty of them were proud of him, but he hated taking up their time, so whenever he had free hours recently he just stayed at Haley's house. Same as now.
And surprisingly, that was fine. More than fine, actually — as sorry as he felt saying it about his friends, being here was a lot more fun.
Probably because Jamie and the rest of Haley's family and relatives kept dropping by.
"Ugh... are you playing that nerd game again?"
Haley would emerge from her room at just the right moment, take one look at Yohan's geeky setup, and heave a sigh of despair.
"Gio! Show me around the city. Where are you going?! Are you ignoring me right now?!"
Chloe would whine at him to come outside with her.
"Auntie, I'm gonna take the car and go grab food with my little sister and Gio. Mom and Dad? They're sleeping... I can't drive here? An international license? I didn't apply for one, but can't I just drive anyway? This looks like a backwater town — probably no one even checks. Wait... did you just call me a bonehead...? Ah—! Stop hitting me!"
Haley's male cousin would try to cause trouble, and Caroline would throw everything she had into stopping him...
In that fashion, Haley's house was currently packed to the rafters. Not only were there not enough rooms — just looking around inside, you could barely tell whether this was a house in LA or Italy.
They were scheduled to watch the final match of the first half in late December — the derby between Roma and Lazio — stay through the New Year, and then head home. And Yohan thoroughly enjoyed the nonstop noise of this household from morning until night.
"Wait... let's smash the oil drums with a fire spell here. There's fuel spilled all around, so we can end the fight instantly."
"No. There's oil under our feet too. If we break the drums, we die with them."
"Cast flight magic and just the two of us bail."
"What about the rest of the party?"
"They can smash the drums with a fireball. If they die, we just revive them back at camp."
"Absolutely not. I'm a Lawful Good paladin. I can't sacrifice my allies. I'll take the hit myself. I've still got some HP left, so I might not even di— Haley, what are you doing?"
Midway through a heated strategy debate with Aiden over the game, Yohan let out a disbelieving half-laugh as Haley marched straight over and climbed onto his shoulders.
"Save that kind of game for the middle of the night and come with me. We're going outside."
"Why?"
"They're doing fireworks at Fermi Park. Everyone's going to watch."
"Oh, really? All right then. But don't pull my hair. What am I, a horse?"
"Shut up and put on a mask and a hat."
"It's dark out — no one'll recognize me, right?"
"If someone does, people will swarm us, so just wear them."
"Fine. Let's go, Aiden."
Aiden still hated going outside. But hanging out with Yohan had improved his social skills enough that, as long as family was around, he could more or less enjoy being out in the world.
As he shut off the game and changed clothes, Yohan's eyes fell on the considerable number of garments hanging in the wardrobe. All of them were his. Once Haley left and Caroline started coming by less often, he'd probably have to clear them all out.
I don't want to say goodbye...
It was an utterly selfish thought, but he wished Haley and the rest of the Newman family would just settle down here for good. Outside of the nuns, these were the first people he had ever felt this close to. He wanted to fully become part of them.
He had thought something like that before — but the feeling had only deepened. Yohan had given the Newman family far too much of his heart.