Time had elapsed unnoticed and no one was sure what it is left for them until the referee yelled out after the Orange side lose the ball to become a throw in.
"Seven minutes left!" She hollered.
Frederico hold the ball ready for the throw in as he scanned at the moving players and none of his teammates was free.
Saki was frequently pushed by Kenzie Kamay though of his small size. And the others were in the similar situation both trying to escape the tight space they were in.
The game had slowed down dramatically since the orange fourth ball that Joha scored.
Now the orange team has decided to play more defensive rather than attacking.
Tsssss -
The referee showed a yellow card to Frederico who it seemed he was delaying the ball but the real reason it was because he didn't see whom to throw the ball to.
That was their second yellow card since Saki's.
"What are you waiting for?" Saki yelled at him, yet he was well aware that the chance of loosing the ball once thrown in was obvious.
"Here!"
A familiar voice said over the struggling locked Bodies players. When Frederico looked he didn't believe it.
Lumi stood all by himself, hardly marked by anyone. The orange side had focused too much on the players they saw as dangerous—Don, Saki, Papu—and completely ignored the young winger.
"Take it!"
The ball was thrown high with enough force to reach him, and Lumi moved forward to meet it.
Marco Rossi was already there, closing him down as the ball arrived. He stepped in to pressure him immediately, trying to force a mistake.
Lumi didn't panic.
As the ball dropped, he tapped it with his heel, sending it cleanly between Marco's legs, and burst forward in the same motion.
Marco reacted, turning quickly to recover, but the sudden change of direction cost him. By the time he faced forward again, Lumi was already past him.
He chased from behind, pushing himself to catch up, but the gap remained.
Frederico stormed through the inside lane, his run cutting between the defenders and forcing one the remaining center-back, Ryu, to track him.
The moment Ryu Suzuki shifted toward Frederico, the shape of the defense cracked.
It was subtle. Almost invisible to the untrained eye.
But Akio Saito, the blue team center mid saw it.
From the center, Akio adjusted his run just a fraction deeper, dragging Elio, the orange side center mid, with him.
That single movement opened a thin corridor—no wider than a passing lane, no clearer than a heartbeat.
Lumi saw it too.
He didn't slow down.
Marco Rossi was still behind him, desperate, reaching, his footsteps heavy with urgency, but Lumi had already made his decision before the pressure could arrive.
He cut inside.
Not wide. Not safe.
Inside—where the danger lived.
Kenzie Kamay reacted instantly, abandoning Saki for the first time in minutes. His body shifted toward Lumi, reading the threat, stepping forward to intercept.
But that was exactly what Lumi wanted.
At the last second, just before Kenzie could close him down, Lumi slipped the ball diagonally—sharp, low, perfectly weighted... To Akio.
He received it under pressure from Elio, his first touch cushioning the ball just enough to keep it alive. Elio lunged in, trying to dispossess him, but Akio turned his body sideways, shielding the ball with composure that belied the chaos around him.
Then, without hesitation, he flicked it forward.
A one-touch pass.
Into the space where Frederico was lurking.
The timing was surgical.
Ryu had committed. Marco was out of position. Kenzie was too far forward. The defensive line, once solid, now stretched and fragile.
Don took the ball in stride.
For a split second, everything slowed.
The noise of the field dulled into a distant hum. The weight of the moment pressed down on him—but instead of crushing, it sharpened him.
The orange team right full back, Kaito, lunged in from the right, attempting a last-ditch tackle. Don shifted the ball across his body, just beyond the reach of the sliding foot, his balance unwavering.
Ryu recovered quickly, stepping back into position, arms locked, trying to block the shooting angle.
Harityo Tanaka, the goalkeeper, stepped off his line, narrowing the space, his eyes locked onto Don with fierce concentration.
Everything was closing.
And yet— Don smiled.
A faint, almost defiant smile. Then he struck with precision.
The ball left his foot low and fast, slicing through the narrow gap between Ryu's legs—the smallest window on the field—and skimming the grass as it sped toward goal.
Harityo reacted instantly, diving to his left.
But it was already too late.
The ball kissed the inside of the post and buried itself into the net.
"GOOOOOOOOAL!"
The useless spectators outside the fence erupted.
Four–four—it's a tie!
His teammates crashed into him—Papu first, grabbing his shoulders and shouting incoherently, Akio right behind, his calm finally breaking into a rare grin. Even Elton, usually reserved, pumped his fist as he rushed forward.
From the wing, Saki watched. Not smiling, just watching. But deep inside he was glad though shocked that Don had to be the one to score a hat trick for their side.
"Three minutes!" the referee shouted, her voice cutting through the lingering celebration.
The restart was immediate.
Orange team didn't hesitate.
Kenta Marito pushed forward aggressively, his frustration evident in every stride. The equalizer had shaken them.
Elio received the ball from kickoff and immediately looked to Nicholas, who had drifted wide again, seeking space.
Nicholas moved with intent, his earlier confidence now sharpened into urgency. He cut past Arata, the left full back with a quick feint, accelerating down the flank.
But Jin, blue's defender, was already tracking back. He didn't dive in. He waited as if calculating.
Nicholas attempted to cut inside, but Jin stepped in at the exact moment, his tackle clean, precise, and absolute.
The ball broke free, straight to Elton. Who didn't waste time, taking him only one touch to control.
Second touch—forward finding Akio.
Akio turned immediately, scanning.
The orange defense was retreating, trying to reorganize, but the rhythm had shifted. The momentum was no longer theirs.
Akio spotted it.
The smallest movement.
It was Saki on the move, chaos in his steely blue eyes.
He wasn't being pushed anymore.
Kenzie hesitation on the lurking danger was enough for Akio to pass the ball to Saki.
A driven ball, threading between Kenzie and Ryu, straight into Saki's path.
Saki received it.
The world didn't slowed down for Saki as It sharpened and details, instead of becoming clearer they they create chaos.
He took in everything at once—the angle of Ryu's stance, the distance of Marco's recovery run, the goalkeeper's position, even the strained breathing of the defenders.
He felt it all.
Ryu stepped forward to challenge him, but Saki feinted left, drawing him in.
Ryu shifted, yet he cut right.
The ball stayed glued to his foot, his control unnervingly precise.
Marco closed in from behind; Kaito from the side.
It was collapsing again.
But Saki didn't hesitate.
He pushed forward—straight into the pressure.
"Stop him!" someone shouted.
But Saki was already beyond stopping.
At the edge of the box, he slowed.
That was the moment no one expected.
Instead of shooting, he lifted the ball and made a delicate flick.
The ball rose just above Ryu's outstretched leg, and beyond Marco's reach.
It dropped perfectly, and he flowed seamlessly back into his stride as if nothing had happened.
Even the defenders froze, caught off guard by the sheer precision of it.
For that single instant, Saki had broken the rhythm of reality.
Now it was just him, and the goal keeper, Harityo. He stepped foward again, bracing himself.
Saki thought of how he stopped his goal last time.
He strode closer and even closer, and then he struck.
The ball curved.
A bending shot, curling away from Harityo, rising slightly before dipping sharply toward the far corner.
Harityo leapt, full stretched, fingertips reaching. But the ball was already beyond him.
It dipped at the last possible moment, and slammed into the top corner.
The net rippled violently as the ball struck home, the force of it sending a sharp tremor through the goal.
For a brief moment, no one moved.
Then the whistle cut through the silence—a long, piercing sound.
"GOAL!"
The Blue Team had retaken their lead once and for all.