Coach Ishii was in an office-like room with several other coaches from Shūdan-teki's various clubs, organizing paperwork together with Coach Suzuki.
Coach Ishii let out a tired sigh. "Why does a high school coach have to deal with this much bureaucracy…"
Coach Suzuki gave him a sympathetic smile. "Not just any coach… a Shūdan-teki coach."
"To think it's already rare to see you here actually doing your job…" commented a man at the desk in front of them.
The two coaches looked at him, confused.
"Sorry, you are…?" Ishii asked.
The man seemed irritated. "Ryunosuke Kadoshima, coach of the girls' volleyball club. You've been away so long you don't even remember your colleagues."
"Well, if you were a noteworthy colleague, I would remember."
"That would apply to you too… but you're known across the whole school for your negative traits. Impossible not to know you. Now that you're getting results with the boys' soccer club, you suddenly think you're on the same level as us, who work hard every single day."
Coach Ishii failed to find a comeback.
Suddenly, someone knocked on the door. The three turned toward it.
"Come in!" said a female coach near the entrance.
"Excuse me…" Riccardo said as he opened the door and stepped inside.
"Do you need someone?" she asked.
"Is Coach Ishii here?"
"Yes, over there."
Riccardo followed her pointing finger toward Ishii.
"Thank you."
He approached him, while Kadoshima watched him closely.
"Speaking of people who shouldn't be in this school…"
"Good morning."
"Good morning, Aliberti. What do you need? You know we have training soon."
Riccardo took out the papers he had received from Ishii earlier.
"Captain Noguchi gave me these and said you asked him to deliver them." He placed the papers on the desk. "I read everything. I want to know why you made me do it."
The two exchanged a sharp look.
Coach Ishii sighed. "Alright… but let's talk somewhere else. Sound good?"
"Fine by me."
The two left the office under the silent gaze of the other coaches.
Meanwhile, Kadoshima noticed the title on the papers. "History of Japanese Soccer…"
"Mr. Kadoshima," Suzuki called out. "Coach Ishii knows what he did isn't entirely right for this school—especially for the former students whose dreams weren't fully realized. But he has a far more important role than any of us. A role that reflects Shūdan-teki better than anything else."
Kadoshima stared at him inquisitively. "And that would be?"
"Raising Japanese football to the highest level possible…"
[School Rooftop]
Riccardo and Coach Ishii looked out over the school from above.
"You know we're not allowed up here, right?" Riccardo said, confused.
"I'm here, so it's allowed."
Riccardo eyed him skeptically. Pretty sure that's not how rules work…
"So, you read everything in those papers?"
"Yes. Why did you make me do it?"
Ishii looked at him seriously. "Shūdan-teki is a project backed by Japan's upper authorities. Its purpose is to shape future champions in every sport. But this is where your situation comes into play… At Shūdan-teki we train Japanese boys and girls. But on paper, you're still Italian."
Riccardo returned the stare. "So you want me to take Japanese citizenship?"
"Correct. I work for the JFA—the Japan Football Association. My job is to choose the future players who will represent Japan. I've traveled the world, and one day, purely by chance, I saw you during a youth match for Napoli. I was completely captivated—not just by your technique, your strength, and your intelligence in every play, but by how naturally you became the protagonist of the match. That's what the future of Japanese football needs. We need one last push to elevate the national team, which grows stronger every year. Japan needs you."
Riccardo fell silent, watching some students practice on a basketball court below.
"So that's why I was admitted here…" he sighed. "I appreciate the compliments, but I can't accept—"
"You have three years!" Ishii cut in, surprising him. "There's no need to answer now. You'll spend three years at Shūdan-teki thinking it over, and then you'll decide."
Riccardo laughed softly. "You seem awfully sure I'll become a professional player. I haven't proven anything yet."
"You will. Under my guidance, you definitely will."
Riccardo had no response.
"I said you have three years. For now, just play—score goals and assists, amaze everyone with your football, and improve until you reach the level where choosing your future becomes a real option." Ishii began walking toward the rooftop exit. "And one more thing: I know about your ACL injury in Italy. They discarded you because of it. But here, we'll treat you properly so you can have the best future possible. You know what I mean, don't you?" he added with a mischievous grin.
He left, and Riccardo watched him go.
"Understand what he means… of course I do. But that doesn't make it any easier," Riccardo muttered, clenching his fists.