"What are you doing here?" Julien's voice had curiosity as he approached the two young players.
He gestured to Pierre, his father and agent, indicating he needed a mont, then walked over to Mbappé.
Anyone who had earned their place at Clairefontaine had undeniable talent—that much was guaranteed. The academy was France's most exclusive footballing institution, accepting only the cream of the crop from across the nation.
Julien studied the unfamiliar face beside Mbappé, searching his mory for any recognition. Finding none, he filed the information away: this boy probably wouldn't make it to the highest level or beco a famous player in the future.
Mbappé shifted uncomfortably under Julien's gaze, his hand instinctively moving to scratch his head. "I heard today that many national team players were coming to Clairefontaine to report, so I ca to see them,"
Mauugou's eyebrows shot up in confusion. Hadn't he just spent the past hour claiming he was waiting for soone?
After chatting briefly, Julien smiled and glanced at his watch. He said to Mbappé. "You can also beco a national team mber in the future, Train hard, stay focused, and opportunities will co, I have to go now—need to report to U21 first. Can't be late on my debut."
"Alright, see you later," Mbappé replied, his voice showing a hint of disappointnt. There was so much more he wanted to say, but the words remained trapped, held back by the natural reserve of youth.
Just as Julien turned to leave, Mbappé found his courage. "Julien, I'll be at the Coupe de France match at the end of the month. Will you be playing?"
"Bastia?" The question had a tone of genuine puzzlent. Why would a Clairefontaine student travel all the way to Corsica to watch a match?
"Yes, you'll be playing against Rennes," Mbappé explained, his words tumbling out in a rush of excitent. "My brother plays for Rennes, and our whole family will go watch him. It's a big match for us."
"Your brother?" The confusion in Julien's voice deepened. 'Huh? Mbappé had a brother? Didn't he only have a younger brother, Ethan Mbappé?'
"Yeah, Jires Kembo Ekoko," Mbappé said. "He was my childhood idol and greatly inspired to pursue football. He's always played for Rennes, and he plays the sa position as you—right winger. He's also incredibly fast, with this explosive pace that can tear defenses apart!"
Hearing Mbappé's words, Julien thought briefly. 'This na had no connection to Mbappé at all.'
Reading the confusion on Julien's face, Mbappé launched into an explanation that revealed a story far more complex and touching than a simple family connection.
"We're not blood-related, but we're family, He's Uncle Jean Kembo's child. Uncle Jean Kembo was a legend in his own right—he helped Zaire win the African Cup twice and once used his goals to help Zaire reach the World Cup."
Mbappé's eyes grew distant as he continued, "He and my dad beca close friends during their playing days, but when Zaire fell into chaos—Uncle Kembo entrusted Jires to us and had us to take him away from that nightmare.
Although we're not blood-related, Jires, Ethan, and I have always lived together. We've shared everything. We're real brothers in every sense except genetics."
Julien listened with growing amazent, not knowing there was such a story.
He knew Zaire, of course—later renad the Democratic Republic of Congo. The region's political geography was a maze of na changes, border disputes, and historical complications.
The relationships between the Democratic Republic of Congo, the Republic of Congo, and their various colonial and post-colonial iterations had always been too complex for him to fully untangle.
That entire region of Africa carried the weight of too much history, too much tragedy, too much chaos for comfortable understanding.
Understanding the deeper context now, Julien felt moved by the story. His hand found Mbappé's shoulder.
"I'll definitely be playing," He said with conviction. "You don't need to buy tickets—let get you so front-row seats. Though I'm afraid you'll have to sit with Bastia fans, and we can be quite passionate about our football."
Mbappé's face lit up with a smile. "No problem! We're only fans of Jires, not Rennes fans. We'll cheer for both of you—may the best team win!"
The sincerity in the boy's voice touched Julien. He reached into his backpack, took out a pen and a scrap of paper, and scribbled down a series of numbers.
"My private number," He said, handing it to Mbappé. "Only you can know it, okay? Don't go sharing it."
"Yeah!" Mbappé's responded imdiately.
Another glance at his watch reminded Julien of his priorities. "I really have to go now," He said apologetically. "I don't want to be late on my first day with the national team."
"Go quickly!" Mbappé urged and tucked away the paper with Julien's phone number.
Throughout this entire conversation, Mauugou had remained on the edg like a silent observer unable to find an opening to contribute to the conversation.
After Julien disappeared into the Clairefontaine complex, Mauugou finally found his voice. "You ca just to wait for him?"
"Yeah," Mbappé replied simply, his eyes still fixed on the spot where Julien had vanished.
"Oh, you never told you knew him," Mauugou continued, his tone showing he felt sowhat left out of the loop. "I've seen him in Clairefontaine's newspaper. He used to be at Clairefontaine too, then went to—"
The conversation continued as they walked away, their voices fading into the distance, but Mbappé's mind was already elsewhere.
Julien's punctuality was impeccable. When he arrived at the training ground, he was more than ten minutes early. His father imdiately set off to coordinate various administrative matters with the U21 coaching staff, leaving Julien to absorb the atmosphere of his new environnt.
"Welco," ca a voice filled with warmth and authority.
U21 head coach Erick Mombaerts actively extended his hand to shake with Julien, then patted his shoulder and brought him to the others. "Hey, let introduce a new teammate—Julien De Rocca. I believe if you followed the Coupe de France, you definitely know he led a Ligue 2 team to eliminate last season's double winners Lille."
Julien felt sowhat restrained coming to a new team.
Next ca the routine self-introduction.
Actually, most teammates played abroad and weren't very familiar with Julien, nor temporarily interested in getting to know him.
Perhaps they'd be willing to understand after actually playing together.
After his brief self-introduction, Julien found a quiet spot to wait for Mombaerts' next instructions.
The ritual of joining a new team was always the sa: observe, listen, adapt, and slowly find your place in the established hierarchy.
Before arriving at Clairefontaine, Julien had done his howork on the U21 head coach. Research was part of his professional approach, and what he'd learned about Mombaerts had been impressive and reassuring.
The coach's career trajectory was fascinating—a classic example of how coaching careers could far exceed playing careers.
From the late 1980s, he had successively taken charge of so of France's most respected clubs: Paris Saint-Germain, Guingamp, Cannes, and Toulouse.
After leaving Toulouse in 2006, Mombaerts had made a decision to focus on nurturing the next generation of French talent.
So, he began coaching U16 and U19 teams, and two years later, formally took charge of U21, continuing until now.
This was a coach who understood the ga at its deepest level, soone who could teach not just tactics and technique, but the ntal aspects that separated good players from great ones.
While Julien was absorbed in his observations, a shadow fell across his peripheral vision. He looked up to see a player even taller than himself approaching.
"Julien, hello, I'm Raphaël," the newcor said, his smile revealing perfectly white teeth that seed to light his entire face.
Raphaël Varane
Julien naturally recognized this "Mr. Clean"— the prodigy who had already caught the attention of Real Madrid, the defender whose potential seed limitless.
"Hello," Julien replied. He had no idea what had prompted Varane to approach him, but he sensed this wasn't just a casual greeting.
Fortunately, Varane didn't keep him guessing. His directness was refreshing. "Zinedine told that when I return to U21 this ti, I should interact more with you. He said we might be teammates in the future. Not just club teammates, but national team teammates too."
"Well, I'd be very willing to join Real Madrid," Julien replied honestly. "But Real Madrid wouldn't want a player like . Real Madrid wants the best players in the world, and I'm not that yet."
"No, I believe Zinedine," Varane said simply. "He doesn't make predictions lightly. If he says sothing, it's because he sees sothing the rest of us might miss."
The conversation might have continued, but Mombaerts' ca through the various individual discussions taking place around the training ground.
"Everyone, today we'll just rest at the base and get familiar to our surroundings, we'll start formal training tomorrow. After two days of preparation, we'll travel to London to play a friendly against England U21.
Today, everyone should familiarize themselves with the materials about our opponents and understand what we're up against. So of them might even be your club teammates. If there are any problems with the materials prepared by the coaching staff, or if you have additional information that could be useful, please approach or any assistant coach with your views."
Subsequently, assistants distributed stacks of A4 papers to everyone.
These contained England U21's key players.
Each profile was detailed: nas, current clubs, preferred positions, playing style characteristics, strengths, weaknesses, and tactical tendencies. Even headshots were included.
Julien accepted his copy with interest, imdiately flipping through the pages. As he scanned the faces and nas, a smile appeared on his lips.
"So many young familiar faces," He thought to himself, recognizing several players who would go on to achieve great things in football.
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