Night had fallen over Tokyo.
The noise was gone, replaced by calm, but inside Rikuo's head, everything was still spinning.
Lying on his bed, arms spread out, he stared at the ceiling without really seeing it.
His body felt heavy.
His legs were still sore.
Every muscle reminded him of the morning session.
He closed his eyes.
The images of training came back one by one.
The repeated sprints.
The burning feeling in his thighs.
The lost balls.
The duels where he arrived too late.
The looks from the other players.
Minato's words.
Rivelinho's provocation.
"Is that all you've got, prodigy?"
He clenched his fists slightly.
"Damn…" he whispered.
He wasn't looking for excuses.
He knew they were right.
Today, he hadn't kept up with the pace.
But what bothered him the most…
Wasn't the fatigue.
It was the feeling of not being consistent.
He sat up on his bed.
"I gave everything… but not at the right moments."
He thought back to certain parts of the session.
The moments where he tried to force a pass.
The moments where he wanted to shine instead of playing simple.
"In pro football, it's not about running more… it's about running better."
That thought stayed with him.
Little by little, he was starting to understand.
The problem wasn't that he lacked talent.
Nor that he lacked preparation.
The real problem…
Was that he didn't yet know how to manage his effort.
In youth football, in training academies, even in international tournaments, he played on instinct.
He ran a lot.
He dribbled a lot.
He tried a lot of things.
And it worked.
But here…
Here, every run had a purpose.
Every movement was calculated.
Every wasted effort was punished.
"In pro football, you can't afford to waste your energy…" he thought.
He remembered Minato.
Always well positioned.
Always calm.
Never rushed.
He didn't run more than the others…
He ran at the right moment.
Rikuo put his feet on the floor and slowly stood up.
He walked to the window and opened it slightly.
The cool night air filled the room.
"I need to be smarter… not just stronger."
He also thought about something important.
Despite his difficult session…
The coach hadn't taken him off.
He let him finish.
"If he kept me on… it means he knows I can adapt."
That thought made him feel better.
A light sound came from behind him.
"You're not sleeping?"
It was his father's voice.
Rikuo turned around.
Takeshi was there, in his home clothes, clearly woken up by the noise.
He entered the room and calmly sat on the chair.
"No… I couldn't."
His father looked at him for a few seconds, carefully.
He saw the fatigue.
But more than that…
He saw the inner struggle.
"Training was hard today, huh?"
Rikuo sighed softly.
"Yeah… really hard."
He hesitated for a moment, then continued.
"I couldn't keep up with the pace.I made mistakes.
I was late.I felt like I was one step behind everyone."
Takeshi nodded, without interrupting.
"The pros… it's another level.
They move fast.They never stop.And me… today, I got hit hard."
He lowered his head slightly.
"I feel like I disappointed people."
His father stood up and placed a firm but reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"Rikuo.Listen to me carefully."
He waited for him to look up.
"Falling is normal.Especially when you move up a level.What matters isn't never falling…
It's getting back up faster than the others."
Rikuo stayed silent, taking in every word.
"If the coach put you in Group 1, it's not by chance.
It's because he trusts you.He knows you'll adapt."
Takeshi smiled slightly.
"And I do too."
Rikuo felt something tighten in his chest.
"But dad…
What if I don't adapt fast enough?
What if I lose my place?"
His father gently shook his head.
"You know what?
Even if that happens… it won't change who you are.
But more importantly… it won't happen if you keep thinking the way you are right now."
He lightly tapped his temple.
"You're starting to understand professional football.
Not just with your legs…
With your head."
Silence settled in.
A good silence.
Rikuo smiled faintly.
"Today, I didn't succeed…
But tomorrow, I'll do better.
Not by running more…
By running smarter."
Takeshi nodded, proud.
"That's it.That's the turning point."
He stood up.
"Rest now.
Your body needs it.And tomorrow… show them why you're here."
Before leaving, he turned back one last time.
"Your mother would be proud of you."
The door closed softly.
Rikuo stayed alone, motionless for a few seconds.
Then he took a deep breath.
He slid under the sheets, his body still heavy, but his mind much clearer.
"I'm not late…
I'm just learning."
His thoughts slowly calmed down.
Tomorrow, he would pay attention to his movement.
To his positioning.
To simple decisions.
He would play clean.
He would save his energy.
He would listen more.
Not to shine.
But to last.
Before falling asleep, one last thought crossed his mind.
"I'm hungry…
But now, I know how to eat."
The night wrapped itself around Rikuo Amada.
And somewhere deep inside him,
the future king had just understood something essential:
To reach the top, it's not enough to want to go fast.
You have to know how to last.
For Rikuo tomorrow will be different..