Returning Home
User1: Whoa, what was that from Tachibana just now? Pulling off stepovers there, damn lol
↳ User2: So that's 6 goals in 4 games now? His nose for goal is definitely world-class.
↳ User3: Here we go again, hyping up friendly matches lmao
User4: What's up with Ronaldo? He's actually smiling at Tachibana.
↳ User5: It's just a friendly. If they met in the Champions League, he would've shown no mercy.
↳ User6: Probably likes him because he's Portuguese lol
User7: But doesn't Tachibana play a bit like Ronaldo?
↳ User8: Look at this guy sucking up to a Japanese kid, wtf. Four friendly matches and you're already comparing him to Ronaldo? lol
↳ User9: Tachibana is anti-Japan, so he's basically an honorary Korean though?
↳ User10: It's early, but their styles are similar. The way he dribbles alone and fires off shots is so satisfying.
↳ User11: Probably because he's a Ronaldo fanboy? When his old social media got leaked, his room was covered in Ronaldo posters lol
↳ User12: Why are you wishing bad luck on a rookie who hasn't even debuted yet? Typical Ronaldo fanboys lol
↳ User13: You're a Messi fanboy, aren't you?
User14: God-naldo's brace.gif
↳ User15: As expected of our big bro lol
↳ User16: How many meters did he jump? Insane
↳ User17: At this rate, he's going to reach the moon
↳ User18: Sigh, Ronaldo fanboys hyping up a goal in a friendly match is so annoying.
↳ User19: Hey Messi fanboy, just admit it already. Ronaldo >>> Messi. You think winning both the league and UCL top scorer is a joke?
↳ User20: The fact is they finished runner-up in the league, runner-up in the UCL, and got knocked out of the Copa. He won zero trophies last season lol
↳ User21: Lmao look at the Messi dogs trying so hard to hate. The Ballon d'Or is going to Ronaldo anyway.
↳ User22: Is the Ballon d'Or only about scoring goals? If you have eyes, you know who plays better football.
User23: Only Ronaldo fanboys would go crazy over a brace in a friendly match, seriously.
Gooner1: (Arsenal Fans Only) So, does Tachibana look decent to you guys? Watching him play, he definitely seems to have talent.
↳ Gooner2: Yeah, at least Fabregas-level.
↳ Gooner3: Is he really that good?
↳ Gooner4: Look at the teams he played against. He scored 3 goals against Bayern and Real. He's going to tear the Premier League apart.
↳ Gooner5: Please, let it be true.
↳ Gooner6: Please raise him well without injuries. We'll take him in 4 years ^^
↳ Gooner7: Typical Barca fan lol. Arsenal products do taste sweet, don't they?
Gooner8: Why is everyone going crazy over some Japanese kid? Did he surpass Son or Park? People are acting like he did lol. At best, he'll end up like Lee Jangyong.
↳ Gooner9: For real, the Japan-worshippers are crossing the line lol. Go surpass Lee Jangyong first.
017: But Tachibana is seriously amazing. Is he actually going to start for Arsenal at this rate?
> This is a thread for Japanese Premier Leaguers, why are we talking about Tachibana? That guy is a traitor to the nation.
>> Don't be so rigid. I believe Tachibana will return to the Japanese national team.
>> As if he'd ever return www
019: Can Tachibana surpass Korea's Son or Park? It's annoying that the best Asian player is always Korean.
> Maybe he can surpass Park, but Son will be tough, right? He scored 14 goals for Tottenham last season.
>> True. Still, the North London Derby is going to be fun. Tottenham's Korean Son vs. Arsenal's Japanese Tachibana. A perfect rival match!
>> First, Tachibana needs to worry about actually getting on the pitch www
>> Park will be tough too. Even if half of his appearances were as a sub, he played 33 matches for Manchester United.
>> But Park only had 3 goals and 6 assists. Maybe Tachibana will be better?
>> Just because you rack up more attacking points doesn't make you a better player. Just like Son scoring more goals doesn't make him better than Park.
>> Wouldn't Kagawa have a better chance? He did well at Dortmund last season, and bids are coming in from big clubs. Once he leaves the German league, everyone will acknowledge Kagawa is the better player. It's a shame he didn't go to Man United this time.
>> Still, they say he's negotiating with Juventus right now.
>> Honestly, Kagawa is the best in Asia. Son can only score goals, and Park is just a defensive player.
>> No, in my eyes, Tachibana is the greatest Asian talent in history. Honestly, he's not even at the Asian level. Even if it's just friendlies, there aren't many players who can dribble and score like that. I can't even think of ten players right now. Japan needs to apologize to Tachibana and beg him to join the national team!
>> Even without a player like him, the Samurai Blue is strong enough! If anything, he should apologize to Japan and beg to be let back in. Tachibana is someone who ruins the Samurai Blue's team spirit!
024: Still, I'm looking forward to this season. Nakajima transferred to Liverpool, and we have Tachibana too. There hasn't been anyone to watch since Okazaki, but this season, watching the EPL will be worth cheering for.
“So, Luka. What brings you here? It's rare for you to seek me out.”
“Ah, Boss.”
Before returning from the US tour with a record of three wins and one draw, I paid a visit to Arsène Wenger.
Of course, it wasn't for some childish reason like demanding a guaranteed starting spot. I was confident enough that my skills would secure me a place in the starting eleven before the first half of the season was over.
The reason I sought out Wenger now was far more important than that.
“Um, in the meeting earlier, you said you were giving me number 17, right?”
The reason was my shirt.
During this US tour, I had played with a number in the 80s like the other youth players. However, perhaps having taken note of my performance, the club had assigned me number 17.
Number 17.
Compared to the number 10 I wore during my prime, it felt a bit lacking, but it wasn't a bad number.
Combining the 10 of the team's ace and the 7 of a superstar, the number 17 signified that the club had high expectations for me.
In my heart, I wanted to wear the number 10—which was also Messi's number and the ultimate symbol of a team's ace. But since the current number 10 belonged to Dennis Bergkamp and the number 7 belonged to Freddie Ljungberg, it seemed it would take some time before I could claim either of those.
Anyway, I liked the number. But there was one thing I didn't like.
“Yes, I said I would give you 17. Is it too much pressure, Luka?”
Wenger's cool gaze looked down at me.
He seemed to have a good personality, but when it came to club matters, he always maintained a strict poker face. Standing before him made me feel like a child about to get scolded, even though I hadn't done anything wrong.
It felt as if his sharp, hawk-like eyes were scanning right through me.
Still, what I was about to say wasn't problematic at all, so I spoke up.
“It's not that. Rather than the number, I want to change the name printed on the back of my shirt.”
“Your name? Is the spelling incorrect? I am certain your father played with that name on his back as well.”
“I want to play with 'Luka' on my back instead of 'Tachibana'.”
Throughout the tour, the name printed on my back had been Tachibana.
Honestly, I had no desire to play under my surname. My relationship with my father wasn't bad, but as someone whose soul was still fundamentally Korean, I hated the idea of playing with the distinctly Japanese surname 'Tachibana' on my back.
It was an instinctive aversion. Since I could play under the name 'Luka,' which was completely free of any Japanese flavor, there was no reason to stick with Tachibana.
“I see.”
To my surprise, Wenger nodded and smiled.
I wondered why this poker-faced man was smiling at my request to change the name on my shirt, but my curiosity was quickly satisfied.
“Usually, second-generation footballers want to play with the same name as their fathers. Do you wish to surpass your father? I shall look forward to it.”
I didn't really mean it that way. He was my father, but his career wasn't exactly something I needed to strain myself to surpass.
However, Wenger, having come to his own misunderstanding, seemed to like my attitude.
“Well, something like that.”
And it was always a virtue to just agree when older folks made a slight assumption. Since it didn't hurt me, there was no need to correct him with a 'Actually, that's not true.'
“But I don't think you needed to come all the way here just to say that. You have an agent, after all.”
“Still, I thought you should be the first to know, Boss.”
“Very well. I will pass it along.”
“Thank you.”
My new squad number was 17, and the name on my back would be Luka, not Tachibana.
Honestly, when I watched clips of the friendly matches, it had bothered me to hear the commentators constantly calling me Tachibana. Now, I wouldn't have to deal with that annoyance anymore.
If I had kept Tachibana on my back, I probably would have felt uncomfortable the entire time I was playing. It was a relief.
To be honest, this was also better from a marketing perspective.
A name like 'Luka,' which was universally recognized, was naturally much better for marketing than an unfamiliar Japanese surname.
Of course, if my goal was simply to make money, I would have invested in stocks or crypto. For me, being able to play football in a healthy body was what truly mattered, so money itself wasn't a priority.
Even so, shirt sales, social media followers, and salary were the metrics that proved a player's professional worth.
I had no burning desire to amass a massive fortune, but as someone aiming to become the best footballer in the world, there was no reason to throw away these advantages.
Besides, 'Luka' just sounds cooler. There's a reason people talk about the power of a name.
At any rate, with the most important matter that would shape my entire footballing career settled, I could return to England with a light heart.
Naturally, my standing now was completely different from when I had first arrived in the US.
Having been handed the number 17 shirt and scoring against giants of the footballing world like Bayern Munich and Real Madrid, no one in the team viewed me as a mere prospect who belonged in the reserves anymore.
In particular, the look in Walcott's eyes—the starter in the position I would primarily play—had changed significantly.
At first, he had looked at me as if I were just a cocky kid, but now, Walcott viewed me as a genuine rival.
Fortunately, he seemed to be as good-natured as people said, as he didn't try to freeze me out or anything.
Well, there was another competitor.
Ljungberg, despite being a direct rival for my position, didn't seem to show much interest in me at all.
In fact, I hadn't exchanged a single personal word with Ljungberg during our time in the US, so I still had no idea what he was thinking.
I had seen him talking to players around his age a few times, but even that was rare. He seemed to live in his own world.
I was secretly curious to see if he would remain so indifferent once I took his spot.
Well, I'll find out soon enough.
Having achieved quite satisfactory results, I finally returned home.
“I'm home! ...What? Is no one here?”
I opened the door and stepped inside, but no one was there to greet me. It was quiet enough to make me wonder if I had walked into the wrong house.
“Geez. The eldest son returns home, and this is the welcome I get?”
I hadn't received any messages. Feeling a bit disappointed, I tossed my bags onto the living room floor and was about to check my phone when—
“Lu—kyaaaaaah!”
An ear-splitting shriek pierced the air.
“W-What?!”
And flying straight toward me was a desk clock.
But what shocked me even more than the flying clock was the sight of a girl I had never seen before. She was dripping wet, completely naked save for a towel wrapped around her body, barely covering her from her chest to just above her thighs.
“Argh!”
A sharp pain flared in my forehead while my attention was momentarily stolen by that provocative sight.
Wow... She has a mole on her chest...
...I hated to admit it, but it was a perfect misdirection. It had completely fooled me—a world-class footballer with a field of vision wide enough to effortlessly dodge tackles from behind.