With the arrival of another player on the team, Sanu’s squad was becoming more and more interesting. And it was drawing the attention of other clubs in the region who, before, had seen the school as a weak opponent — but now viewed it as a real threat.
The Regional was approaching. And if Sanu won, they would earn the right to represent their region in the State Championship. And if they won the State, they’d secure a spot in the Nationals — where they’d very likely face Erick again.
But until that happened, the focus was solely on the training sessions happening here and now.
Before the practice began, Rafael approached in the coaching staff uniform and called everyone over.
"Guys, just a quick announcement before we start. The Regional has a set date. Next week, here in our city, like every year. Be ready"
"Rafael, can I ask something"
The voice came from Dante, who was still sitting on the ground stretching, but paying attention to what the coach was saying.
"What’s your question, Dante?"
"About that... why aren’t we facing Yamu in the Regional? Aren’t we from the same region as them?"
The question caused a bit of a stir. Some teammates looked at each other — the same doubt was in many minds.
"Good question. Yamu are the current Regional champions. And by our region’s rules, the team that wins the Regional one year doesn’t play that phase the following year. They’re automatically qualified for the State Championship"
"So if we win this year...", Rodrigo began, raising an eyebrow.
"Next year, we won’t have to play in the Regional" Rafael finished. "But first, we have to win. And no one’s going to make it easy. Everyone wants to go to the State"
Kelvin listened quietly, eyes fixed on the concrete floor. The word State lit something inside him. And Nationals even more. It was like a level map. As if the real world was finally starting to align with the system’s logic.
The players went back to warming up. Kelvin stayed in a group with his friends while stretching, when Ian — completely late — showed up and sat beside Kazana, who remained silent while the rest of the group chatted.
Nothing more was needed. Just the tone of his voice made it obvious: Ian was exhausted. The tiredness dripped from his sweaty face, his body practically collapsed on the ground. Nᴇw novel chapters are publɪshed on 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭•𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦•𝘯𝘦𝘵
Dante was the first to notice the state of his friend and quickly spoke up.
"Did something happen, Ian?"
"I’m just tired. That’s all"
Kazana, who was the captain, immediately grew curious — or rather, concerned. The Regional was next week, and Ian was a starter. He needed to be fully fit, rested, ready.
"Tired from what, Ian?"
Kazana turned his head like an owl, eyes locked on him, waiting for a serious answer.
"Tired of being tired"
Kazana blinked slowly. The answer sounded like a riddle. He shook his head, trying to understand, but nothing made sense.
"Being tired is exhausting, Kazana"
The answer came with a humorous tone, and Ian looked at Kazana with a lazy smile. That alone was enough to send the rest of the group into laughter.
"Oh, go fuck yourself"
Kazana turned away, trying to hide his frustration. He expected a real issue, something urgent. Not a senseless philosophical joke.
Kelvin, Dante, and Felipe laughed even harder at his reaction. Kazana’s face turned red, the veins bulging on his temples. He crossed his arms, huffing, visibly annoyed but trying to maintain his captain’s composure.
"I’m being serious, damn it..."
His voice came out low, almost to himself. But everyone heard. And that’s when no one could hold back anymore.
While everyone was still laughing, Dante broke the moment with a question that, truthfully, Kelvin had also been asking himself for a while.
"Guys, have you noticed that Rafael gets more serious every time a tournament gets close?"
Kazana let out a deep sigh at the question.
"Of course. It’s a tournament, Dante. He takes things seriously — it makes sense that he acts serious too"
Felipe, watching Rafael from a distance, nodded.
"But serious to the point of staring at the ball for ten minutes before every practice? Then starts doing kick-ups or shooting at goal while we’re still warming up?"
Kelvin, who had just been listening until then, decided to speak up.
"I thought I was the only one who noticed that. I figured it was just his way of distracting himself, but I don’t know...", His voice faltered for a moment, as if searching for an explanation in his head. "I think he just really loves what he does"
"And you know what all that shows? That he just takes things seriously, you idiots"
The response came dry and sharp from Kazana, still annoyed by Ian’s joke minutes ago. He crossed his arms again as he stood up from the grass.
Rafael called the boys over and quickly briefed them on what they’d be doing in the training session. Oliveira, who had spent the warm-up completely isolated from the others, had only one thought in his mind: “I’m going to stop Kelvin and Kazana”
The phrase echoed in his mind like a mantra. While the others laughed, joked, or got distracted, he observed every movement with focus. It wasn’t arrogance. It was focus.
Rafael split the players into two teams. On the bib team were: Murilo in goal, Danilo and Victor in defense, Ian, Rodrigo and Felipe in midfield, with Kazana up front. On the team without bibs: João Vitor, Márcio, Dante, Kelvin, Oliveira, and two substitutes to complete the squad.
Oliveira was placed as center-back, opposite to Kazana. When he heard the lineup, he just nodded. No excitement, no forced expressions. Just determination.
The training started with quick passing drills. Rafael wanted movement, short passes, and players looking for space. The scrimmage was intense — it felt like a real game.
Right from the start, Kazana received a through pass from Ian and tried to spin around Oliveira. But the defender was spot on. He anticipated, blocked, and came away cleanly.
"Nice one, Oliveira!", Rafael shouted from the sidelines
Kelvin watched the play closely. On the next attempt, it was Kazana again who made a run on the left. Ian passed, he accelerated, tried to cut inside — but got dispossessed again. Oliveira gave him no space.
Kelvin wasn’t intimidated by the tackles. In fact, it sparked something else in him. A greater way to improve.
Once again, Kazana tried. This time with more speed. He pretended to go wide, then cut inside — but Oliveira was already there. He anticipated again and, without sliding, used his body and took the ball with ease.
The scrimmage continued like that for several minutes. Felipe tried, Ian too, but Oliveira seemed to predict every step, every move. It wasn’t luck. It was reading. It was discipline. It was something Kelvin had only felt before against... Erick.
At the end of one of the plays, Kazana stopped, crouched down, resting his hands on his knees — sweating, but laughing.
"This guy... he’s the best kind of training"
Kelvin came over, also out of breath.
"Did you manage to get past him even once?"
"Just once. But he followed me all the way. Nearly knocked me down"
Kelvin looked to the other side of the field, where Oliveira was already back in position.
Kazana wiped the sweat from his forehead with his shirt and replied with a faint smile.
"I used my body. But it feels like he adapts — he’s different"
Hearing that, Kelvin felt a spark ignite inside. It was true. He’d been trying to dribble past Oliveira the same way he would try to dribble Erick. But they weren’t the same. If he wanted to win, he had to adapt to Oliveira the same way Oliveira had adapted.
But while they were still on the same team, all he could do... was watch.