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After the game was over, the spectators in the stands were convinced that they weren’t going to see another team of such a high standard on this day, even though it was the first official day of the championship.

"Uaaww!" Kuwabara squinted, stretching out his arms and looking away. "Hey, did anyone see where Tanaka went?"

"He must have gone to fill his popcorn bucket or get more soda." Yukihiro said.

"That guy... Stay here, I’ll stop him before he gets stuffed and takes ill before today’s game." Nishida stood up.

In fact, Lucas was walking away from the stadium’s candy stand, in the opposite direction to be precise.

Lucas walked through the stadium with quick, determined steps. The crowd around him barely registered his presence, absorbed in the frenzy that followed the end of the Tahara High School game. In Lucas’ mind, however, there was no room for the euphoria that still hung in the air. Hasumi Seiya’s words echoed in his head, hammering incessantly since he had first heard them.

"I mean you have no finesse. You replaced the other number 10 and you’re even a bit better, but a real number 10 plays with elegance as if he were wearing a suit. You just run around like a savage. You’re desperate, you’re rash, you don’t show calm at any time. Even during the game, you look scared."

These words hit him like a gust of icy wind. He thought he was doing well, yet Seiya, the young coach from Tahara High School, had cast a shadow of doubt over it all. And now, more than ever, Lucas needed to understand exactly what she meant by that.

As he walked across the stadium, he thought about what he had witnessed during the match. The Tahara High School players seemed to move in perfect synchrony, as if they were parts of a single organism. There were no fixed positions, no traditional number 10 who dictated the pace of the game.

Instead, all the players constantly changed position, adapting to the flow of the game with impressive fluidity.

Lucas arrived at the entrance to the teams’ changing room, where two security guards were stationed.

"I need to speak to coach Hasumi Seiya," he said.

The security guards exchanged a glance before one of them replied. "She’s not receiving visitors or interviewers right now. Her team is resting."

"It’s important. Tell them that Lucas Tanaka from Wushia High School wants to talk to her."

The security guard seemed inclined to refuse again, but the determination in Lucas’s gaze made him hesitate.

"Wait here." One of the security guards asked, turning to enter the locker room.

Lucas waited. He wasn’t sure what he was hoping to achieve with this conversation, but something inside him knew that he needed to hear her explanation. It wasn’t long before the security guard returned, nodding.

"You have five minutes. She’s waiting for you in the technical committee room," he said, allowing Lucas to pass.

Lucas soon found the door he was looking for. It was slightly ajar after a man and a woman had left and entered the players’ changing room.

Lucas took a deep breath, pushed the door open and entered.

The room was modest, but well organized. A large whiteboard occupied the opposite wall, filled with tactical diagrams, arrows, circles and notes that clearly indicated the meticulous preparation of a strategic mind. A small sofa was against the wall to the right, with a low table full of papers, bottles of water and a pile of notebooks.

In the center of the room, with her hands in the pockets of a black sports jacket, was Hasumi Seiya. She looked even younger than when seen from afar.

"Lucas Tanaka, isn’t it?" Seiya said, with no particular tone of welcome or surprise, just a statement of fact.

"I wanted... I need to understand what you meant that day, about me not having the finesse to be a number 10."

Seiya raised an eyebrow, as if pondering his answer, then gestured to a nearby chair. "Sit down, Lucas."

He obeyed, feeling uncomfortable and exposed, and Hasumi remained standing, walking slowly towards the tactical board.

"You want to understand what I mean." Seiya began, almost rhetorically. "Very well. I’ll be blunt, then: you have energy, speed, a good pass and an undeniable will to win. However, that’s not enough to be a team’s number 10, otherwise all professional players would be number 10s."

Lucas frowned, feeling a slight heat of frustration rise in his chest. "But from what I’ve seen of your team, no one plays like a traditional number 10. Your players don’t have fixed positions. They move around all the time, change positions, adapt to the game... So how can you say I’m not suited to being a number 10 if no one in your team plays like that either?"

Seiya smiled, an enigmatic smile that made Lucas feel even more uncomfortable.

"Exactly. You’ve captured the essence of my strategy. I believe that modern soccer requires flexibility that goes beyond static positions. All my players need to be able to operate in different areas of the pitch, to adapt to situations in real time, and that requires a keen tactical mind and, most importantly, calmness.

It goes in the opposite direction to the philosophy of great coaches like Guardiola and Jürgen Klopp, but I believe that this tactical scheme will become more and more popular in modern soccer, because there are no more number 10 players like there used to be."