"He's alive", Kazana told me as we came back playing, without taking his eyes off the defender, "Keep it"

I nodded. The skin of the game had the texture I like: space that appears and disappears, and the obligation to get it right in the span of a thought.

Samuel found me on the side when they recovered and carried the ball tied to his foot like it was easy. I went on his timing instead of mine, and that was the mistake. The first cut was inside, my hips turned too late, my leg came out slow, and he was gone. Dante came for cover, delayed him, and João Vitor killed it with a foul before the box. The referee blew right by my ear and I breathed in the whistle like it was my fault turning into noise.

On the free kick, Samuka hit it hard over the wall, the ball came down wicked and scraped the crossbar. The stadium made that collective sound that isn't a cheer or a groan, but a giant tooth grinding. Murilo glanced at me, like someone saying a whole sentence with just an eyebrow. Wake up.

I woke up.

Next play, Dante anticipated, stepped ahead of their midfielder and found Rodrigo through the middle. Ian was already stretching his stride to receive between the lines. I cut in from outside, and they both found me in sync with my body. I controlled orientated, pulled the fullback into the void, felt Samuel launching for the tackle. I stopped one step. He stopped too. I accelerated half a step without touching the ball, and he was stuck in his own brakes. Short pass into Ian, spun behind and got it back first touch, entering the box through the funnel. I raised my head for a fraction and picked the far post, low, like we train. The keeper threw himself whole and palmed it with his fingertips for a corner.

The crowd shouted my name. I wanted to bite the shout and keep it in my pocket. I went to take the short corner with Rodrigo, gave it back to him and stepped into the edge of the box. The ball bounced alive for the rebound and I struck first time. Caught it wrong. The ball went up like it was apologizing.

"Not relaxed at all", Ian said in my ear on the way back, no smile, "Keep going"

"Keep going", I answered, feeling my heart beating inside my boots.

***

The twins spoke to me for the first time around the twentieth minute. Samuel tapped my shoulder after a clash near the sideline.

"Slow today, Kelvin"

I smirked sideways without showing teeth.

"You're early. I arrive later"

He made a short sound through his nose, not a laugh. Samuka walked past us both, without looking, and tapped his brother's arm like he was setting up the next move without words. I heard them walk away and stayed stuck to the grass for a second. I remembered the doubles tournament. I remembered the play Ian had talked about on the bus. I remembered what I told myself: I'll show them I'm the best.

So I wasn't going to stop.

Next attack, I asked for the ball early. Way too early. Danilo gave it anyway. I turned inside first touch, forcing my body to move before the ball, making Samuel retreat on instinct. When he pulled his foot back, I had already accelerated through the central corridor. Their holding mid came hard, and I played into the void like I had kicked the air. The short pass found Ian who gave it back quick to my left foot. A one-two that didn't ask for permission. I broke into the box glued to a defender who shoved me with the leftovers of his life. Fall, rise, shoot, choose, breathe. I chose the high far-post shot. The ball deflected off the defender and went out. Another corner. Another crossbar-breath stuck in the crowd's throat.

"There it is", Dante said, pressing his forehead against mine like he wanted to connect two wires, "There it is. Repeat it"

"Repeat", I answered, and repeated in my head like someone writing in a notebook to memorize. Repeat.

Uchi didn't step back. They never do. They're the kind of team that smiles when the game turns up the volume. The corner was taken, but their defense cleared it, and the ball landed at Samuka's feet pulling down the left. Danilo slowed his stride, I came back to help, and the three of them spun around the ball like a hinged door. Samuka feinted the inside pass, Samuel received outside, the ball slid through a corridor too tight to exist, and Murilo came out huge to block the shot. The ball hit him and popped up, and this time Oliveira came to trap it and clear to the sideline, but before it got there, it hit one of their players. The stadium breathed in two colors.

"Don't give the whole body", Rafael yelled from the sideline, pointing at Danilo and me at once, "Show half. Force the cut to where we are"

I nodded from afar. Felt the sweat slide down my neck like an alarm bell. The game was at that point where everything can flip without changing anything.

The ref messed up the throw and gave it to them. Sanu's fans exploded, and I swallowed the noise with anger. Samuel threw it quick into Samuka and got it back on his plant foot, Danilo was a step late, and he was already crossing to the far post. Their striker rose ahead of Márcio and headed down. Murilo dove late and the ball crept in slow, cruel, like it wanted to show the whole path it took. I held my hands on my shorts too long.

"Come on", Kazana barked from the circle, voice like a blade, "Now"

I went to grab the ball out of the net with Murilo. He handed it to me and said nothing. His silence hurt more than any scolding. I looked quickly to the stands. My parents were quieter than before. Júlia wasn't. She still had that small smile, only now her eyes were two headlights aimed at me. I stared for a second and ran back to the middle.

The ball rolled again. They tried to kill the game with the same pattern. We tried to take it back into our hands. Ian spun free in midfield, receiving with his back and turning out of their shadow. Rodrigo spread it wide to Felipe in speed and I cut across diagonally to open space. Felipe drove to the byline and crossed low. Their defender cleared and the rebound fell to my feet at the edge of the box. I could've shot again like the manual says, but I chose to hold half a second. I didn't stop. Just held. Long enough for Samuel to bite. When he did, I pushed it with my sole onto my right and shot to the near post. The keeper was already diving the other way, but the ball brushed their defender's heel and went out kissing the post.

I stayed on my knees for a brief instant while the crowd mixed a cheer with a groan. Ian pulled me up by the arm.

"You nailed the play. The next one goes in"

"It's going in," I answered, not knowing if it was a promise or a threat.

I hit the corner tight at the near post. Kazana stepped in front of their defender like it was choreographed, flicked it with his head, and the ball rolled across the six-yard box without asking permission. Felipe clashed with the fullback and the ball deflected out. Another one.

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