Riccardo walked in silence alongside the vice principal, the hallways of the school unusually quiet. Every step seemed heavier, the tension thick in the air.
He glanced at the vice principal. He seems different from the first day… did I do something that bad?
They stopped in front of the principal's office.
"Excuse me!" the vice principal said, knocking before opening the door.
Inside, two people waited: a student and an older man in his sixties.
"I brought the boy," the vice principal announced.
"Good…"
The student approached Riccardo with arrogance, trying to lift his shirt. Riccardo grabbed his wrist instantly.
"And who the hell are you?" he asked, annoyed.
"I'm the student council president!"
Riccardo smiled haughtily."Nice to meet you, Mr. President. You know it's rude to lift someone's shirt without permission, right? Even if you were the most important person in the world." His tone left no room for argument.
"Aliberti's right," the vice principal intervened. "That's not the behavior a student council president should show. Apologize."
The president, clearly irritated but chastened, let go of Riccardo's shirt."…Excuse me. I shouldn't have behaved like that.""Apology accepted."
"Regardless," the vice principal continued, pointing to the principal, "we need you to lift your shirt in his presence. There's something we need to verify."
Riccardo exhaled, resigned. So that's what this is about… He lifted his shirt and revealed his tattoo.
The three stared, while Riccardo's mind raced. What a shitty situation… how do I get out of this?
The vice principal spoke."You know tattoos are against school rules, right?"
"No, I didn't know that was a rule."
"And how long have you had it?"
"About four months. I got it in Italy."
"And sixteen-year-olds can get tattoos there?" asked the student council president, skeptical.
"Yes, with parental consent."
"So your parents know?""Yes."
The principal finally spoke."Can I ask… what does the tattoo represent?"
Riccardo paused before answering."I didn't grow up in the best neighborhood in Italy, even though my family is wealthy. A tough suburban town in the south, where kids like me had to earn respect just to live peacefully, to avoid ending up at the bottom."
The student council president interjected."So… are you going to justify the tattoo?"
"The principal asked for its meaning, right?" Riccardo replied. "Soccer. All of us kids had it in common—soccer." He pointed to the ball in his tattoo. "We played in the streets every day. It was our escape from life's burdens, the same for me."
He gestured to the street in the tattoo. "Soccer gave me a goal, pulled me out of the asphalt, made me stronger."
Finally, he pointed to the thorny rose. "It's a reminder: I must become a professional soccer player. Not just any player—the best, for me and for the friends still struggling to rise from under that asphalt."
The three men were silent, struck by the depth of his words.
The principal smiled."In this case, I'll turn a blind eye."
"What? You're joking! You're letting him go just for a story?" the student council president exclaimed.
"Not entirely. The responsibility is ours too," the principal said calmly.
"What?" the boy asked, confused.
"If, as Riccardo said, he already had the tattoo before coming here and didn't know the rule, it was our duty to check. Since he enrolled with our approval, we can't punish him for something we overlooked. Do you understand, Mr. Minazuki?"
The president hesitated, then nodded reluctantly.
"And besides," the principal added, "this isn't just any tattoo. It carries meaning tied to sports, which is the foundation of our school."
Riccardo straightened his shirt.
"But one condition," the principal warned. "Never show even a millimeter of that tattoo in school again. Next time, you won't get away with it."
Riccardo bowed."Understood. Thank you."
"Good. Return to your classes."
Riccardo left the office, gently closing the door, and let out a deep breath.
I don't even know how I survived that…