Episode 210: A New Nest -3
...On this day, a tremendous crowd of fans had gathered at Manchester International Airport to see Jian Lee, whose transfer to Manchester City had recently been confirmed...
Inside the quiet hospital room, only the faint sound of the TV echoed.
Matteo, lying in the white bed, was looking at the TV.
"..."
The news on the TV was showing images and news of Lee Jian, who was both a fan and a friend.
The sight of Lee Jian surrounded by a massive crowd.
Seeing that, a broad smile formed on Matteo's lips.
"As expected... you're welcomed wherever you go."
It was a proud sight.
Manchester City was a world-class powerhouse and one of the most prominent teams in Europe.
Seeing such a team take his friend away with the utmost care, and the team's fans welcoming him tremendously, he couldn't help but feel proud, as if it were his own doing.
It was also a point of pride that a player like that was one who had been raised by Fiorentina.
"..."
Of course, it wasn't only joy that he felt.
Predicting the transfer hadn't been very difficult, so he had prepared himself to some extent.
But when the departure was actually confirmed, he had to accept a great deal of regret and a tinge of sadness.
It would be a lie to say he wasn't disappointed at all.
But Matteo was quite a realistic person for his age.
Thanks to what he had learned while striving to overcome his circumstances, he also possessed a positive personality.
So he understood his friend's choice and was rather grateful for it.
His attitude of thinking about the team even as he left was so special that it could bring a Fiorentina fan to tears.
How could he feel disappointment before gratitude?
"...I really hope you do well."
Matteo clenched his fist firmly toward the TV screen.
He was no longer a Fiorentina player, but that didn't mean he planned to stop cheering for him.
He was personally his favorite player, and they were friends.
Besides, if he played well there, it would be a matter of pride for Fiorentina as well.
...If he didn't do well, he might even turn into an anti-fan.
Then he'd have to leave comments every day.
He'd tell him that if he was going to play like that, he should come back to Fiorentina.
"..."
A snicker.
Matteo smiled.
Of course, he was only joking.
He wanted him not to come back, but to play better than anyone and become the king of Man City.
The Man City fans should get a taste of it too.
How fun it was to watch football when Lee Jian was on their team.
And what a good friend he was.
"...Thanks."
Yesterday, Lee Jian had visited the hospital.
Saying he would be moving to England soon and wouldn't be able to visit for a while, he had come to see him while he was sick.
Naturally, Matteo was surprised.
To think he'd worry about him even in the midst of such busyness.
At the same time, he envied the Man City fans.
Because they would get to cheer for someone like him from now on.
"You have to do well there too."
"I hope you become a player we can all be proud of."
Even if the uniform you're wearing now is sky blue instead of purple, your memory will always be filled with purple.
It was at that moment—while Matteo was sending his wholehearted support to the TV, his face full of smiles—that—
The hospital room door burst open!
The door swung wide, and Matteo's father entered.
For some reason, he looked a bit rushed.
"...What's going on?"
When Matteo asked, his father babbled on incoherently, then gulped down a glass of cold water before finally explaining what had happened.
"It's just... this is... I haven't mentioned it all this time, but... Dad had a lot on his mind."
"On your mind?"
"It's not something you should worry about. It's the treatment costs."
"Ah, yes."
"I went to talk to the doctor about that."
His father wiped his face, and Matteo nodded.
Though his father hadn't shown it, Matteo knew.
They weren't well-off, and Matteo had already been hospitalized for quite a long time.
During that time, he had received various treatments and a lot of medication.
It went without saying that the medical expenses were enormous.
He had noticed that his dad was worried about this as well.
"But...? Do I have to leave now...?"
Matteo asked carefully.
He himself felt sorry and like a burden.
But his father shook his head.
"No, not that. They say we don't have to worry about the treatment costs anymore."
"...What?"
"A donation came in. I heard it's an enormous amount. They said someone did it anonymously, but they quietly told me who it was."
"Who?"
His father glanced at the TV screen and answered.
"Your friend."
"...Ah."
Only then did Matteo's father let out a drained, relieved smile.
* * *
"...Why is there so much?"
Having slept soundly and woken up, I headed to the kitchen bathed in the morning sunlight pouring through the picture window.
A feast filled the table to the brim, along with all kinds of delicious smells.
"It's a lot, right? I got excited without realizing it."
Jiu, wearing an apron, replied with an awkward smile.
In her hand, she held a spatula, apparently still working on something more.
"No, look at this kitchen. The sink is big enough to swim in, and the burners and oven are as good as the ones in restaurants. I had to use them all at least once—how could I resist?"
"...So you made all of this first thing in the morning?"
"Yeah! I love this house so much!"
...I shook my head and sat down at the table.
And as Jiu turned her back again, I couldn't help but let out a chuckle.
The past few days had been quite hectic.
After completing the contract and his schedule, I returned to Italy, took care of the remaining things with Dad.
After finishing up, I flew back to Manchester and completed the house contract.
The new house where I, Dad, and Jiu would live was decided to be the one Jiu had liked the most last time.
Well, I thought it was the best too.
It was close to the training ground.
Dad had said it was good too, so there was no reason not to.
After that, we did some cleaning, went shopping for necessities.
We took walks around the neighborhood to get familiar with the area.
Before I knew it, a week had passed in the blink of an eye.
"Morning."
"Morning!"
Just as I was about to pick up my utensils, Dad came and sat at the table.
Smacking his lips, Dad said to me,
"You said you'd get there by ten, right?"
"Yes."
"Right. They said it's about ten minutes by car, so you've got plenty of time."
Before I knew it, it was already July.
And today was the first day I would go to the training ground.
Pre-season gathering hadn't started yet, but since I was a transfer, I had to have a meeting first.
I asked if I could use the training ground for some individual training, and they told me I could.
"I took a short walk around the neighborhood yesterday. Whew, it was a bit confusing. I almost drove on the wrong side of the road."
"...Is it that bad?"
"Since everything's opposite, it was confusing. But I adapted quickly."
The club had graciously provided a car for commuting.
Of course, they hadn't given it to me outright but lent it, which was only natural.
Anyway, Dad had agreed to drive me to the training ground in that car.
I figured I should study bit by bit on my days off and get my driver's license at least.
Dad couldn't drive me around forever.
"Eat well and go do your best. Got it? First impressions are important for everything. Greet them confidently too."
"..."
I nodded despite being dumbfounded at Jiu, who was piling more food onto the already full table.
Anyone would think she was my mom.
The way she nagged.
"You didn't forget we promised to study English together when you get back, right?"
"...I know."
"And you have to come straight back after?"
"I said I got it."
Jeez.
Amid the flood of nagging, I suddenly thought that whoever ended up as Jiu's son or daughter would have it rough.
Whoever it was, I already pitied them.
...Well, not that it was any of my business.
*
"Whew, it shoots off with just a slight tap on the pedal, so it's hard to get used to. The engine's so quiet that sometimes I can't tell if it's turned off or not."
"..."
On the way to the training ground in the car with Dad.
I was sitting in the passenger seat, yet I felt an odd sensation as if I were in the driver's seat, and for some reason, Dad was in high spirits.
He wasn't showing it openly, but he seemed to really like the car.
Since earlier, he'd been saying how it moved so well with just a light tap, how the steering wheel was slippery (he probably meant smooth), how quiet it was.
He normally didn't talk like this; seeing him ramble on like a broken record...
At this point, I half-wondered if I ought to subtly ask the club if he could buy the car.
Well, anyway.
"Hm... there it is. We're here."
I had been nestled in the seat, but at Dad's words that we had arrived, I sat up.
In the distance, I could see a long, high fence and a firmly shut main gate.
That must be Manchester City's training ground that I would be using from now on.
...Hmm.
But the closer we got, the stranger it seemed.
Why did the fence have no end?
This felt less like a training ground and more like some park.
"...Is this the right place?"
"Huh? It is. Etihad Campus. This is the place."
...This is a training ground?
It looked even bigger than Artemio Franchi, our—well, Fiorentina's stadium.
He truly felt the difference between having money and not.
So this is what it means to have money.
*Screech—*
When the car stopped in front of the firmly shut gate, a man who looked like a security guard quickly came out of a small building beside the gate.
He had quite a fierce face, and though I had no reason to, I felt nervous.
Dad rolled down the window, and the moment the security guard peered inside and made eye contact with me.
As if he had never looked fierce at all, the guard's expression softened instantly.
"Ah! I'll open it right away! The parking lot is inside, to the left! Just a moment!"
Despite there being no need, the guard quickly ran back to the building.
And a moment later, the firmly shut gate slowly began to open, and for some reason.
Compared to when I signed the contract or took the photo holding the sky-blue uniform... right now, it felt more real that I had come to a new team.
*
"Have a good day. It'd be nice if you contacted me about thirty minutes before you finish."
"Yes."
I got out of the car, waved goodbye to Dad, and turned around.
Having to drive for quite a while even after passing the main gate was another shock.
What was so big?
Each training ground was as big as a stadium, and there were five or six of them lined up.
Hmm.
By the way, where was I supposed to go?
I think they told me to go to a place called City HQ when I arrived.
It was so vast that I couldn't get a proper sense of direction.
So there I stood, a bag slung over my shoulder, looking around.
I saw someone running toward me from afar.
"Here!"
I didn't know who it was, but it was obvious he was a club staff member.
Sure enough.
"They're waiting for you at HQ. Let's go."
I followed the man who introduced himself as a club staff member.
Surprisingly, he spoke Italian, but thinking about it, it wasn't that surprising.
For a team of this scale.
...Hmm.
By the way, I didn't know who was waiting.
Well, maybe it was the person who managed the training ground.
It was a day off, but they had opened it for me.
I felt like I was causing unnecessary trouble, but it couldn't be helped.
I hadn't been able to exercise much after the season ended.
I ran whenever I had the chance, but the problem was that chances didn't come often.
Starting today, I had to build my body up to prepare for the season.
The Premier League opener was on August 12th; it might look like there was plenty of time left, but it would be here before I knew it.
"This way. Please come in."
"Ah, yes."
Here and there.
Looking around like a country bumpkin, before I knew it, I had arrived at a building.
Inside was a hallway that looked like it would usually be bustling with people.
Walking down that hallway... after a while.
I saw someone in the distance.
And for a moment, I fell under the illusion that it was Coach Vincenzo.
Because the hairstyle was exactly the same.
"Oh—"
But of course, that couldn't be.
The person waiting for me, reaching out his hand in greeting, was the coach who would become my teacher.