A Call (2)

The next morning, the ache in his muscles were sharper than he expected. Not the dull throb he was used to, but something different. It was like his muscles were bruised on the inside – tender and tight, as if they had been wrung out like a wet towel and left to dry stiff.

Getting out of bed, he groaned silently. Ah, how he wished he could stay in bed all day. However, Ichiro knew he had to get up. He still had this day´s objectives to complete after all. The System waited for nothing.

..

Coming back from the run, Ichiro collapsed onto his bed, arms sprawled like a starfish, and groaned at the ceiling.

He was slowly, but surely starting to hate that god – damn System.

After that, Ichiro laid on his bed for half an hour, before finally finding the will to continue his day. He did after all still have three more objectives to complete. He was just about to start his push-ups when a ding sounded in his head, and the System screen appeared in front of him.

TASKS

-SHAPE UP – Monthly: (1/30)

*Run 10km every day

*Complete 100 pushups every day

*Complete 200 sit-ups every day

*Complete 10 minutes of plank every day

REWARDS: (upon full completion)

*5 Attribute Points

*Permanent increase in physical Attributes

PENALTIES: (upon failure of completing objectives)

*System shut down

-HOMECOMING – Special Story Task(new)

Return to your home-country and reignite your football journey.

OBJECTIVES:

*Sign for a professional team in J1(Japan first division)

*Start an official match for the youth team

*Contribute to one goal (goal or assist) in an official match for the youth team

*Make your debut for the senior team

REWARDS:

*40 System Points

*40 Attribute Points

PENALTIES: (upon failure of completing objectives)

*System shut down

Ichiro blinked

This… this wasn't just training anymore. This was life altering. A story Task. The kind of thing main characters got.

Scanning the task, more things caught his attention.

The task was certainly not an easy one, and it would probably take a little time. But Ichiro believed he could do it, at least with the System.

"This System sure is bold" Ichiro said jokingly. "Guess I don't really need free will – this system´s got it covered!"

He stared at the screen for a bit longer wearing a face of suspicion. The glow from the System reflecting off his eyes.

"Home, huh…"

Finally, after nearly a minute more of silently staring at the System screen, Ichiro let out a deep sigh.

"Well" he muttered, "it's not like it really matters where I start. I'm going to be the best in the world anyway – might as well start at home."

And Ichiro knew exactly who to call.

…

Ichiro's dad picked up on the second ring, his voice clear and warm.

"Pronto. Ichiro, ciao. Everything okay?"

Ichiro hesitated a little before answering:

"Hey, dad. Yeah… I'm okay. Just finished doing… something – look I wanted to talk to you. About something serious."

Ichiro could almost hear the shift in his dad's posture – him straightening up, putting down whatever newspaper or espresso cup he was holding.

"I'm listening."

Ichiro took a deep breath. Then let it out.

"I want to come home."

There was a pause. Not long, but just long enough to make my heart knock against twice against my ribs.

"I miss Japan. I miss playing for Gamba Osaka. I think… I want to go back."

Another pause. Not silence – just thought. His father never rushed a reply – at least not when it was about football.

"You're sure?" he asked, his voice even. "Not just a case of nostalgia? You've still got options in Europe. Maybe not for a Premier League club, but there's still some in the lower leagues in England. Some are even ready to have you immediately join the senior team."

"I know" Ichiro said quickly. "But it's not about that. I just –" He stopped, searched for the words. "I just don't know who I'm supposed to be here anymore. Here I'm ´the kid from Japan´ and in Japan I'm ´the foreigner with a Japanese name´. I don't fit in anywhere. But at home I at least have you and mom."

His dad was quiet. Ichiro imagined him in his office at home, sunlight shining through the wooden blinds, his dad's framed Gamba Osaka shirt still hanging on the wall – like a quiet relic of a younger version of him.

"Il peso di due mondo" he said softly "I know that weight"

"You always carried it better"

"Only because your mother taught me how to bow properly", he said with a low chuckle. "So. Gamba. You think they'll take you back?"

"Right, like they won't take back the son of the O so great Gianni Lo Presti" Ichiro said jokingly, making his father let out a soft chuckle.

"I'm joking. But yeah, I'm sure – coach Masuda actually called yesterday."

"Bah, really", his dad snorted over the phone. "He's really gotten brazen since we played together. You know I used to –"

"Yeah, I know, I know", Ichiro cut him off.

Gianni let out a small laugh. His laughter warm and soft, sang the tune of nostalgia and memories in Ichiro's ears.

"Well, I'll make the call -", his dad finally said. "But, this time – when they open the door – you walk in not as a favor. Not as a comeback story. As a player."

"I will" Ichiro answered. "I'm going there to become a starter. First as a youth player, and then as a senior team player".

"That's the spirit", Gianni said with a small chuckle. "But you'll have to fight for it."

"I will", Ichiro said, his voice filled with determination. "I'm ready".

There was a long silence before Gianni spoke again – gentle, but proud.

"Then let's bring you home, campione"

…

That evening, Ichiro stood by the window of his apartment, staring out at the cloudy Birmingham sky one last time. Birmingham was always like that – distant, gray, polite to a fault.

He thought about everything.

The smell of the newly trimmed grass on the training grounds. The rain, that for some reason always seemed to not pour down, but sideways. Like it wanted to slap you awake. He thought about the cold weather, and the even colder glances. The taste of that final goal – sweet like honey.

But also the sting of rejection – like a thousand punches to his stomach.

This wasn't goodbye to Europe. Just a pause. A necessary pivot.

His phone buzzed.

DAD:

Flight booked. You leave in two days.

Ichiro grinned, closed the curtains and whispered to the System:

"Let's go home".