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The ti passed quickly. One by one, we went to shower, relaxing, letting the heat of the match leave our tired muscles. The steam from the showers mixed with the sll of sweat, but no one cared. Laughter and conversations continued, even with the water running. And when we finally all ca out, clean at last, the atmosphere was light and satisfied.

Rafael reappeared at the locker room door.

"The bus is waiting. Let’s go"

We started getting ready, picking up backpacks, towels, cleats, and damp clothes. Ian was still trying to tease Rodrigo with jokes about how he had stumbled on that pass, Felipe was angry because soone had hidden his bottle, Dante was arguing with Murilo about which save had been the most important of the match, and all of us laughed nonstop.

Oliveira, as always, was in the corner, calr, watching the group’s movent. He stood up, grabbed his backpack, and finally walked toward the exit. His silence didn’t take away from the festive atmosphere, it just added a sense of focus that balanced all the euphoria we were feeling.

We left the locker room toward the bus, still laughing, talking, and reliving every play. The heat of victory was still present in our bodies. Our muscles ached, but it wasn’t a bad pain. It was the pain of those who gave everything, who had poured themselves out completely on the field.

I looked at each face around : Rodrigo, Ian, Dante, Felipe, Murilo, Márcio, Danilo, and Kazana. All shining, all with the sa feeling I had: we had played incredibly, we had played like a real team, and this would not be forgotten anyti soon.

As we climbed onto the bus, I felt the weight and pleasure of that day. The feeling of having won, of having played together, of having overco ourselves. Sanu hadn’t just scored five goals; we had proven that we were capable, that together we were strong, and that nothing, not even the pressure of the next match, could intimidate us.

And as the bus left, carrying us back, I knew: winning this regional was going to be the way this entire region would know my na.

The fla lit in that stadium, the crowd’s shouts, the smiling and emotional faces, they were inside . That feeling of collective energy, of achievent, would not be forgotten. It was ours. It was Sanu.

***

The sun was already almost hidden behind the buildings when I left the training ground. My cleats were still dirty with grass, and my whole body complained after the intensity of the day. Rafael had pushed us hard — attack simulations, quick transitions, high pressing. He knew the match against Zenkai would be decisive, and he gave us no space to be afraid.

I was walking ho with my backpack on my shoulders, feeling my shirt sticking with sweat. Even tired, a smile insisted on appearing on my face. It was strange, but instead of being ntally exhausted, I was... excited. The match against Zenkai felt like an early final, and everything in vibrated just thinking about it.

"This is going to be the match of my life", I murmured to myself, kicking a small stone on the asphalt as I left through Sanu’s gates.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I grabbed it without thinking much, already assuming it was a ssage from my mom asking if I was on my way ho. But no. On the lit screen was Rodrigo’s na.

I opened the ssage.

"Hey, Kelvin, wanna hang out tonight? I got a great place to show you. Around 10 PM. Ian and Dante are coming too"

I raised my eyebrows. I wasn’t expecting that. Rodrigo wasn’t the type to send this kind of ssage out of nowhere. For a mont, I thought about refusing. My head was on the ga, and going out at night could throw off. But right after, I caught myself rembering it could actually be sothing really cool, and probably wouldn’t take too long.

I wrote back:

"Where?"

It took a few seconds for him to reply.

"Surprise. Just trust . You’ll like it"

I laughed to myself. Rodrigo always had this mysterious way of hiding things from people. And sohow, it worked. I felt my chest get lighter just imagining what they were up to.

I put my phone away again and kept walking. The night breeze was already starting to blow, carrying that distinct sll of grass mixed with hot asphalt. I looked at the sky, painted in orange tones, and thought of the match again.

Zenkai. They were on the sa level as us. Two wins each. The head-to-head would decide everything.

My thoughts began to speed up. I rembered the plays from training, Rafael shouting for intensity, the dribbles I tried against Oliveira — and failed —, the seriousness of Kazana that sotis scared .

I shook my head, trying to push those images away. Maybe going out with Rodrigo, Ian, and Dante was exactly what I needed: to distract my mind, breathe, and enjoy the mont before the battle.

I got ho shortly after. My mom was in the kitchen, and the sll of garlic rice spread through the living room. She looked at quickly, noticing my state.

— Tough practice?

— As always, mom, I replied, tossing my backpack on the couch.

She gave a small smile, but soon went back to stirring the pots. I went upstairs, took a quick shower, and lay down, staring at the ceiling. Rodrigo’s ssage was still glowing in my mind. Ten at night.

Ti passed slowly, every minute felt longer than usual. Until my phone buzzed again. It was a group Rodrigo had created. The na was simply: "Night Rest".

Ian had already sent: "Let’s go!"

Dante replied: "If this is a trap, I’m holding you accountable, Rodrigo"

Rodrigo just sent a laughing emoji.

I couldn’t resist. I wrote: "I’m in"

The anxiety for the match was still there, but now it mixed with a strange curiosity. I wanted to know where we were going.

***

When it was 9:50, I left ho, put on a black jacket, and went to the corner where Rodrigo said he’d pick up. Minutes later, the headlights of a black hatch lit up the street. The window rolled down, and Rodrigo’s head popped out.

"Hop in!"

I got into the car, and right away I saw Ian and Dante in the back seat, laughing at so joke only they seed to get. The car already had loud music playing, and the mood was way different from what we were used to at practice.

"So, ready?", asked Rodrigo, with that mischievous grin.

"You still haven’t said where we’re going", I said, adjusting the seatbelt.

"It’s better to feel it than to know it", he replied, stepping on the gas.

The car moved through the lit streets, while Ian and Dante kept laughing. Their energy was contagious. For a few minutes, I completely forgot about the match, the marking, the passes, the strategies.

Rodrigo drove safely, but from ti to ti he glanced at us in the rearview mirror, as if enjoying our curiosity. After about 15 minutes, he turned onto a road I rarely used. The city started to fade behind us, and the lights grew fewer.

"Are you taking us into the woods?", Dante joked, pretending to be worried.

Rodrigo laughed.

"Relax, trust "

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