A Special Ceremony
The Newman family, who had descended upon sparsely populated Trigoria, spent the New Year in high spirits and poured money around so freely that they practically revived the local economy.
Rumor had it that the old pizzeria they visited day after day enjoyed a boom unprecedented in the shop's history — though only the owner would ever know that for certain.
In any case, having spent the holiday somewhere fresh, the Newmans returned to America with a promise to see Yohan again.
"I'll come back."
"Yeah. I'll be waiting."
Because Chloe had pulled Yohan into a crushing hug right in front of the departure gate, Haley spent the entire car ride home needling him with pointless complaints — that was just the bonus.
Once the New Year break was over and Coppa Italia fixtures were set, Roma found themselves competing in three competitions at once.
The match load looked heavier than the first half of the season, but once you actually counted, it was roughly the same.
Finishing fifth the previous year meant they entered the Coppa Italia from the round of 16.
And Roma, just as the owner had promised, signed two more players.
Both were loans, but one carried an obligation-to-buy clause that made it a near-certain permanent deal, and the other came with a purchase option at a very reasonable price.
They even managed to offload surplus players with something close to a con artist's flair.
Of course that was the sporting director's work, but the owner's entire approach had clearly shifted.
When they went a step further and brought in one more squad player off the bench, fans begged forgiveness for ever having doubted the owner before the season began.
With rumors flying that the owner had finally come to his senses — or that he must be near death — Roma met Chievo Verona in the Coppa Italia and crushed them 4–0.
Their quarterfinal opponent was Cagliari, the side that had pulled off a shock win over Inter.
Roma had drawn an easy path, and as expected they won 3–0.
In the middle of all this, Yohan's youth contract converted to a professional one.
Turning sixteen had triggered it automatically.
His weekly wage was lower than Grasso and Vitale, who had already gone pro.
The gap wasn't large, though, and with annual raise options built in, he would overtake both of them within two years.
That brief sentence sat on the front page of the club's official website, paired with a photograph of Yohan beaming as he signed the papers beside the owner.
Fans who saw it blessed his future — and prayed, in the same breath, that he would never turn his eyes toward another club.
As the season rolled on, Roma scraped a win against Napoli in the first leg of the Coppa Italia semifinals.
A victory earned on the road carried enormous weight, and it was Yohan who scored the winner — a comeback goal that flipped the match.
He went further still, stepping into Ricci's place after Ricci complained of discomfort in his thigh, and put on a display of genius-level orchestration that properly proved why he was called Roma's crown prince.
Yohan himself had been playing well up front in Guidotti's absence before being shifted to defensive midfield, so he was full of quiet complaints — but he never showed them.
As things stood, Roma had won the Coppa Italia nine times.
Their most recent title had come in the 07/08 season, which meant a full decade without a win.
In Serie A there was a tradition of adding a star to the jersey crest upon a tenth Coppa Italia title, and in this nearly century-old competition, only one club had ever reached that mark.
Juventus.
Juventus won the league so routinely they wore a gold star instead of a silver one. If Roma claimed the cup, they would become the first club in history to put a silver star on their crest.
Fans who knew that fact by heart — and who had been buoyed by Roma's recent form — held high hopes for the title, packing the stadium to capacity every match and roaring the team on.
However… Roma thoroughly betrayed those expectations and rubbed salt straight into the wound.
Genoa, away: 1–1 draw.
Europa League round of 16 first leg against Hoffenheim, away: 3–2 loss.
Empoli, away: 2–1 loss.
Sampdoria, home: 2–2 draw.
Four winless matches in a row after the Napoli away fixture left public sentiment thoroughly vicious.
In games against sides universally rated weaker than Roma, they had put on performances that made the eyes rot in their sockets.
Genoa, Empoli, and Sampdoria sat 18th, 20th, and 16th in the league respectively.
Relegation-zone teams.
In matches they should have won without breaking a sweat, everything fell apart, and arrows of savage criticism flew at the players and the manager — yet among them, arrows aimed at Yohan were virtually nonexistent.
Only Yohan kept shifting between positions and delivering more than his share, and so he alone escaped the blame.
Yohan knew Lorenzo would retire soon.
Lorenzo had never said it outright, but Yohan could feel it — that he was slowly turning his thoughts toward hanging up his boots.
So the heart he brought to this Coppa Italia was different from usual.
He held a single, unshakable resolve: Lorenzo had to win this, and put a star on that jersey.
Wasn't it too cruel otherwise?
That the greatest player in Roma's history — the man nicknamed the Emperor, a player recognized by everyone even abroad — would retire without a single crowning achievement to his name.
Yohan hated that thought so deeply that he was approaching this second leg of the semifinal against Napoli ready to die for it.
"Hah…! Hah…! Nngh…!"
Swallowing the metallic taste rising in his breath, Yohan clenched his teeth and ran.
Thud—!
"Kh…!"
A Napoli midfielder contested the ball. For a split second Yohan nearly got shoved off it, but he won the duel through sheer will, snatching the ball as it rolled inside the halfway line and snuffing out Napoli's attacking chance.
"Haa…"
Boom—!
He switched the ball to an open teammate on the far side and sprinted straight back into position.
Tap—!
Booom! Thwack—!
"Haa…"
The opening goal Novak scored in the 75th minute snuffed out Napoli's will to chase in a single stroke.
And that goal stood as the winner as the match ran out.
Tweet—! Twweeeet!
Man of the Match went neither to Petr Novak, who scored the goal, nor to Lorenzo Lucca, who provided the assist — but to Yohan.
Recording the most recoveries of anyone on either side and winning his duels with real authority, he used this match to partially shed the reputation that his physical game was soft.
Selected for post-match interviews, Yohan headed to the mixed zone — and broke into a warm smile at a familiar face.
"Hello, Giulia."
It was Giulia Marino, the reporter who had come to interview him after his debut and several matches since.
"Hello, Gio. You sound out of breath — want to catch it for a moment before we start?"
"No. We can go right ahead."
The interview, conducted in a pleasant atmosphere, stirred a rather strong reaction in one particular person.
That person was none other than Haley.
"Do you just let anyone call you by your nickname?"
Two days after the match, Haley dropped the question on him out of nowhere at school. Yohan tilted his head, looking thoroughly confused.
"Huh…? Well… yeah. Gio's easier than trying to pronounce Yohan."
"No, no — that came out wrong. What I mean is, you don't have any problem calling people by name even when you're not close?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Just answer. Do you or don't you?"
"Uh… why would I? And everyone who calls me by name is someone I'm close with, so…"
"What are you, a golden retriever? Just running up to everyone you meet?"
"I genuinely have no idea what you're getting at right now. Want to slow down and explain it from the top, point by point?"
"Forget it. Starting today, I'm giving you a special mission."
"A mission?"
"Yeah. You know I watch your matches sometimes, even if it's not every single one, right?"
"Don't you watch them every day?"
"No?"
"I see. That's a little disappointing."
Haley's eyes narrowed, then opened again.
She did not care for his unhurried tone.
"Ugh… Your problem is you always jump in with your own take before I even finish talking. Just listen."
"Okay."
"You score a lot, right? But every time you do, your reaction is different. Your celebrations have no consistency."
"And that's a problem because…?"
"Wouldn't it be better to settle on one? That's how you get a signature."
"Hmm… is that how it works?"
"Yes. So starting next match, when you score, do this."
Haley curled the thumb and index finger of her right hand into a circle, spread the other three fingers, and held it up to her eye.
It looked exactly like she was wearing a monocle. Yohan stared at it.
"What's that?"
"It's a gesture that means no matter where I am, you're the first thing I'm watching."
"That? Isn't that just a magnifying glass? What about making a telescope with your hands and holding it to your eye instead?"
"That's too common. I don't like it. If something better comes along later we can change it — for now, just do this."
"Ehh…"
Yohan made a doubtful sound.
Haley glared at him.
"You got that?"
"But who am I supposed to be watching?"
"Do I seriously have to spell that out? Me, obviously."
The gesture itself was a little ambiguous, but the meaning behind it sat well with him, so Yohan gave a positive answer.
"Ah… alright. I'll do it."
"If you don't, you're dead. I'm watching the next match."
"Got it."
And just like that, Yohan and Haley created a special temporary celebration that only the two of them would ever understand.