103. Nothing Is Easy -2
In the end, Senior Saponara’s resolution to have just one glass was not kept.
It was an expected result, so I wasn’t surprised or disappointed, but I was gradually reconsidering whether I should keep this secret from the Coach as well.
The sharp, alcoholic smell that wafted each time the senior opened his mouth was enough to make my head spin on its own… and it might not have been my imagination that Jiu’s cheeks looked a little red.
“Nothing easy… Yeah. Just like our youngest said, nothing’s easy…”
While the previously unopened wine bottle soon showed its empty bottom, and the plates that had been too beautiful to even touch were reduced to dishwashing pile, the senior kept talking about what kind of presence I was on our team, making me uncomfortable.
Starting from the days when the team atmosphere was at its worst due to our stifling performance.
How heartbroken he had been watching the Coach get cursed at because of the players.
How miserable his own situation had been, unable to guarantee even playing time in such circumstances.
The senior rattled on with stories that could bring tears to one’s eyes just from listening, one-sidedly claiming that everything had changed when a savior like me appeared.
Starting again from how watching this little kid, who looked like he knew nothing of the world, play his shocking debut match had reminded him of his own old days when he was once called the league’s top prospect.
To how he had been greatly stimulated by the sight of me possessing tremendous talent yet working harder than anyone else.
To how the seniors had sweated blood trying to set an example because the youngest worked the hardest.
Even to the story of how, when he started for the first time after Vlahovic left and felt our chemistry was quite good, the thought that he could still do it made him cry so much at home.
He went on in such exhaustive detail that it was hard to cut him off and tell him to stop exaggerating.
The way he naturally sipped his wine and poured another glass as he spoke was a routine that clearly wasn’t his first time.
“Anyway… you just remember this. You’re my benefactor, benefactor.”
“…You’re drunk.”
“Mate. This is what you call a drunken confession. A drunken confession.”
“I got it, so stop pouring. If you take even one more sip, I’m telling the Coach.”
“Oh, come on. All right. If our youngest says so, I must obey. Loyalty!”
…Sigh.
After that, the senior said he was stepping away to the bathroom for a moment and vanished without a trace.
Andrea said he was always like that and told me not to worry.
“Anyway, since he’s that grateful, I’m grateful too. You saved our whole family. I’ll be counting on you in the future as well.”
“…Yes.”
…I could feel how much they loved each other, but I didn’t know why they had to make it so burdensome.
I suddenly thought of Romero on the other side and felt a little sorry.
If an opportunity opened up for both Senior Saponara and Romero at the same time in the future, I felt like my pass would unknowingly head toward Senior Saponara.
Hmm.
If that situation came, maybe I should just do it alone.
So as not to leave any awkwardness behind.
“Mnn…”
While I was thinking that, a voice still heavy with sleep came from the living room.
It was far too childish a voice to be Senior Saponara, so I turned my head to see a little kid with the same blonde hair as Andrea rubbing his eyes.
The little kid rubbed his eyes hard… then saw me, and his eyes grew wide as if sleep had instantly fled.
“Lo zio (Uncle)!”
Then he came trotting over and buried himself in my arms.
A little flustered, I looked at Andrea, who smiled with a slight frown as if to say, go on and receive him.
“He’s a fan. He likes you more than his dad.”
So I carefully patted his shoulder, and little Saponara looked up at me with starry eyes.
And then he said something so innocent—something only a preschooler could say—that it left me bewildered.
“Uncle! Thank you for helping my dad score goals! But, but why can’t my dad do it like you?”
“…Huh?”
“My dad is bad at soccer!”
At those words, Andrea burst out laughing, Jiu put on an awkward smile as if she hadn’t understood, and I was so flustered that I floundered about what answer to give.
“Is it because Dad doesn’t work hard?”
Since I was just standing there mumbling, the question came again.
I scratched my head, then lowered myself to meet little Saponara’s eye level and spoke.
“No. Dad works hard. Extremely hard.”
“Really? But why can’t he do it like you?”
“No. Dad is much better than me. That’s why I passed the ball to him. The person who’s better has to score the goals.”
I thought I had explained it quite cleverly, but little Saponara only puffed his cheeks as if he didn’t believe me.
It was a face that seemed to say he watched soccer too, so I kept feeling the urge to clear my throat.
“But Dad doesn’t work hard.”
“…Why do you think that?”
“He comes home early every day. He plays with us at home. He doesn’t look tired at all. If he practiced hard, he should be tired.”
…Sometimes it surprises me, but the kids here are incredibly eloquent.
Their assertions with perfect logic momentarily left me speechless, but as a striker, I found a breakthrough.
“No. He’s pretending not to be tired.”
“Why?”
“If he looks tired, you’ll worry. If Dad was exhausted every day, wouldn’t you worry?”
“…I would.”
“That’s why he’s pretending. I train with him, so I know. Dad trains incredibly hard at the training ground. Do you know why he trains so hard?”
“Why?”
“To show you a cool side of himself.”
Placing my hands on both of little Saponara’s shoulders, I spoke, and though he couldn’t fully hide his doubt, he soon nodded.
Then he asked me,
“Then what about you?”
“…Me?”
“What do you work hard for? Dad told me. He said you work the hardest. What do you work hard for?”
…Hm.
I couldn’t answer that pure question with a lie.
Hoping that Jiu’s Italian listening skills hadn’t yet reached native level, I answered.
“I’m the same. To show someone a cool side of myself.”
“Who?”
“Um… the people who cheer for me.”
“You work hard because you’re grateful?”
“Yeah. That’s right.”
When I smiled and said that, little Saponara wrapped his arms tightly around me and said,
“Then it’s because of me! I cheer for Uncle more than Dad!”
…Hm.
He didn’t seem to be wrong.
*
“Get home safe. See you tomorrow.”
“Yes.”
“Stay well!”
“Hey, you can’t tell the Coach about just a glass of wine.”
“…I’ll think about that.”
I waved to the senior and Andrea, who had come out to see us off after waking up late.
Even though we told them to go in, the two waved for a long time, and only when we had gotten quite far did they put their arms around each other’s shoulders and head back inside.
…And then more smooching sounds followed.
Honestly, until the very end.
“They look so happy. Right? The kids are really pretty too.”
I smiled at that sight, and at Jiu’s question, I pursed my lips and nodded.
They looked happy—too happy, in fact.
To the point that I wondered if they shouldn’t restrain themselves a bit in front of a minor.
No matter how much it was a country with no reservations about expressing love, it was hard to know where to put my eyes.
Especially with Jiu right next to me, I cleared my throat several times.
…Jiu pretended not to look, but she saw everything.
“Hey. I don’t know if you’ll ever need it, but learn it well.”
“…What?”
“How that senior treats his wife. He’s totally sweet. Since he always makes her feel loved, of course she must be happy.”
I frowned at the completely out-of-the-blue remark and looked at Jiu.
“What do you mean, learn something like that?”
“Hey, that’s how you can have a happy married life later. Express your love often and clearly. Okay?”
…A hollow laugh escaped me.
“What do you know to act like you know?”
“This is what my dad told me? Are you making fun of my dad right now?”
“……That’s not it. You…”
“If you’re making fun of me, it’s the same as making fun of my dad.”
“….”
…Calling parents is a foul.
At the cheap attack that left me speechless, Jiu pointed at my face and giggled.
Then, Jiu took a deep breath of the evening air, as if her shoulders would touch her ears, and said,
“Ahh, I suddenly miss Mom and Dad. I guess this is why my sisters want to get married so quickly too.”
Then she glanced at me and asked,
“Don’t you want to do it quickly?”
“What?”
“What do you mean, what. Marriage.”
…Out of nowhere.
I shrugged and answered,
“Not really.”
“Why?”
“…Because of my dad too.”
“……Hey, hey.”
At the critical hit, Jiu’s expression turned strange.
“Calling parents is a foul.”
“You did it first.”
“…Sorry.”
“It’s fine. What are you sorry for?”
I grinned at the flustered Jiu.
Revenge successful.
Anyway, I think I had talked to my seniors about this once before.
It hadn’t been that long, but my thoughts then and now were unchanged.
It’s just that…
“Still, it’s possible to live happily like that.”
“Maybe not.”
“You could be happy!”
“Yeah. Maybe. Or maybe not.”
“Tch. So stubborn. The person who marries you will have a hard time trying to match you.”
“That’s why I said I don’t really think about it.”
Had I spoken too sharply?
At my words, Jiu seemed angry and tried to say something more, but soon sighed and shook her head.
As if talking to a wall.
So for some reason, I added,
“Well… my thoughts might change later.”
“No. Don’t change. Live alone forever.”
“…I’m not going to be alone; I’m going to live with my dad.”
“Yeah, yeah. Live happily forever with your fa- …with that mister.”
…Why is she angry again?
She had looked happy just a moment ago.
This is why the world is difficult.
Nothing is easy.
Nothing easy.
Well, anyway…
As Jiu said, Senior Saponara really did look happy.
Seeing that… I did think that my thoughts might change someday too.
Well, you never know what life holds.
Even I didn’t know I’d end up like this just a few months ago.
That’s just how it is, I guess…
…
“It was exactly twenty-two years ago. Twenty-two years ago, I was still a bachelor. Those were good times. Those days…”
While selecting colorful fruits to put into a paper bag, today again without fail, the fruit shop owner stood at the entrance looking outside and began his old stories.
This was after he had already made a fuss about my play in the second leg of the semifinals.
“Anyway, time has flown. To think we haven’t won a title while the president changed three times. The days when we were called the Seven Princesses were good.”
That old men like telling old stories might be a common trait of all uncles, starting from my dad, but the uncles here in Florence seemed especially like that.
Probably because there was once a time—when Serie A was the best league in the world.
I think it was because there was a time when Fiorentina was also counted among the strong teams in that Serie A.
“When Fiorentina was doing well, I was doing quite well back then too.”
That era was long before I was even born, but I knew about it because I had heard it so much from the owner.
“You might find it hard to believe, but back then I wasn’t a pot-bellied uncle either. I had never been over eighty kilograms until I was thirty. Whenever I whistled once, all the women passing by would look at me.”
With his hands behind his back, looking at the distant mountain, a smile bloomed on the owner’s face as he spoke as if sighing.
However, it was somehow a smile that felt sadder rather than happy.
How should I describe that?
……Wistful?
“I want to go back to those days. Even a neighborhood fruit shop owner had his heyday. The days when our team lifted the championship trophy, and when my hair was still thick and full.”
Perhaps lost in reminiscence and transported back to those days, the owner, who had stood smiling for quite a while, turned around a moment later and returned to being the fruit shop owner again.
“Oops, look at me. Sorry. I’ll ring you up.”
The owner, who once said all passing women would look at him with a single whistle, came waddling over and placed the paper bag on the scale.
Suddenly… I thought that perhaps the reason there were so many fans of roughly the owner’s age among those coming to the stadium was exactly that.
In their youth, in their young days.
Perhaps they still couldn’t forget Fiorentina, which had enjoyed its heyday alongside them back then.
Though quite a long time had passed, just like this fruit shop owner who recalled that era whenever he had a moment.
“Here, do your best today too.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
I received the paper bag, heavier today than when it had been placed on the scale.
I bowed my head in greeting and was leaving the shop, when I suddenly turned back and greeted once more.
“I’ll do my best to bring back that championship trophy from back then.”
Then the owner, who had come out to see me off to the door, smiled brightly and waved.
And seeing that smile, I suddenly thought that the owner’s stories might not have been mere bragging after all.
Because in that bright smile, I could glimpse his youth, and with a smile like that, he definitely wouldn’t have been unpopular.
There were only five matches left in this season now.
Four league matches.
And one Coppa Italia final.
No matter how the remaining matches turned out, when I looked back later, just like the fruit shop owner—
the year that shone brightest in my life would very likely be right now.
That’s why I wanted to finish it well.
If possible… I wanted to leave behind only brilliantly shining memories.