The ball rolled loose through the crowd of legs.
For half a second, nobody owned it.
Not Southside.
Not Nocturne.
Just the ball, spinning across the grass while twenty-two players threw themselves toward it like the entire match had been reduced to that one ugly, messy moment.
Yusuke moved first.
His body was screaming at him to stop. His legs felt heavy, almost numb, and every breath scraped through his throat like glass. But the second he saw the ball, none of that mattered. He forced himself forward, planting his foot hard into the grass as Marc Pelletier stepped in from the side.
Marc got there at almost the same time.
The two collided shoulder to shoulder, and the ball popped free again.
Yuma came charging in with no control at all, teeth gritted, eyes wide.
"MOVE!"
He swung his leg through the ball, not even aiming properly. It wasn't a shot. It wasn't a pass. It was desperation given shape. The ball smashed into Lucien's shin and bounced backward toward Hiroto, who barely managed to control it before Réservoir closed in.
"Don't lose it!" Takumi shouted.
Hiroto didn't answer. He couldn't. Réservoir was already on him, calm as ever, body angled perfectly to block the forward pass. Hiroto tried to drag the ball back, but Réservoir followed, never diving in, never rushing. He didn't need to steal it yet. He only needed to make Hiroto feel trapped.
Then Pambara shouted.
"Left!"
Hiroto reacted instantly.
He passed without looking.
The ball slipped just past Réservoir's foot and reached Sora on the left side. For one brief second, the stadium lifted again. Sora controlled it, cut inward, then stopped as Noah Garnier stepped in front of him. Instead of forcing the dribble, Sora laid it back to Takumi, who took one touch and sent it forward to Yusuke.
Yusuke received with his back to goal.
Two defenders behind him.
Aka watching from midfield.
Réservoir turning already.
The pressure was everywhere.
Yusuke held the ball for one second longer than he should have. He could feel hands near his back, feet closing around him, space disappearing with every breath. Then he turned his body slightly, not enough to escape, just enough to open one tiny lane.
"Kaito!" he shouted.
Kaito moved before the ball left his foot.
The pass slipped through the crowd, fast and low. Kaito reached it at the edge of the box, took one touch forward, and fired.
The shot was powerful.
Too powerful.
It rose just over the crossbar.
The crowd groaned so loudly it almost sounded like pain.
Kaito stood there with his hands on his head, staring at the goal like he could drag the ball back with his eyes.
"No…" he muttered. "No, no, no…"
Yuma yelled from behind him.
"You had to bury that!"
Kaito spun toward him.
"You think I don't know that?!"
"Then score!"
"I SHOT, DIDN'T I?!"
"Yeah, and it went to the moon!"
"Both of you shut up!" Hiroto snapped, his voice breaking through the argument. "We don't have time for this!"
He was right.
They didn't.
The clock kept moving.
Eighty-nine minutes.
The fourth official had already raised the board.
Three minutes of added time.
Three minutes to score two goals.
It was stupid.
Impossible.
The kind of thing that didn't happen unless the world itself decided to bend.
And yet Southside still stood there, breathing hard, refusing to drop.
Nocturne restarted with a goal kick, and for once, Adrien Lefevre didn't rush. He placed the ball down slowly, adjusted his gloves, and looked across the field with calm eyes. The crowd whistled and booed, trying to pressure him into moving faster.
He didn't care.
He kicked long.
Daichi went up for the header against Jules Caron. Their bodies crashed in the air, and Daichi somehow got enough contact to knock it sideways. Ren chased the second ball, beating Theo to it by half a step before clearing it down the line.
Sora sprinted after it.
Noah followed.
Sora reached it first, barely keeping it in play with a desperate touch. Noah shoved into his shoulder, trying to force him out, but Sora held on.
"Come on…" Sora muttered, dragging the ball back.
He slipped it between Noah's feet.
For the first time all match, Noah looked genuinely caught off guard.
The crowd exploded.
Sora didn't celebrate it. He didn't even smile. He just chased the ball, reached it again, and whipped a cross toward the box.
Yuma jumped.
Marc jumped with him.
The header came from both of them at once.
The ball flicked upward.
Not goalward.
Straight up.
It dropped near the penalty spot.
Chaos.
Yusuke attacked it.
Kaito attacked it.
Lucien attacked it.
Everyone moved at once.
Then a foot swung through.
Nobody knew whose at first.
The ball shot toward goal.
Low.
Fast.
Adrien dove.
SAVE.
The ball spilled loose.
Yuma lunged toward the rebound.
Adrien grabbed it first.
The stadium screamed.
Yuma almost kicked the goalkeeper's hands before stopping himself at the last second. He stumbled over Adrien and crashed to the grass, pounding the ground with his fist.
"DAMN IT!"
Adrien clutched the ball tightly to his chest, eyes sharp, breathing hard now for the first time.
Even Nocturne could feel it.
Southside were dying, but they were dying loudly.
The referee told Adrien to get up.
He did slowly.
Too slowly.
The boos came again.
This time, even Réservoir looked slightly annoyed.
"Don't waste too much," he said. "You'll make them hungrier."
Adrien glanced at him.
"They need two."
Réservoir's expression stayed calm.
"Yes."
A pause.
"That's why they're dangerous."
Adrien said nothing after that.
He rolled the ball short to Étienne Roche, who passed quickly to Marc. Marc tried to turn, but Pambara stepped into the passing lane before the move even formed.
He didn't steal it cleanly.
He got hit by it.
The ball slammed into his leg and bounced awkwardly away.
But that was enough.
Hiroto recovered it.
"Go!" Pambara shouted, nearly falling over as he tried to keep his balance.
Hiroto pushed the ball forward.
Takumi moved ahead of him.
Yusuke drifted right.
Kaito stayed central.
Sora was still wide.
For one final time, Southside surged forward together.
The crowd rose again.
The noise became unreal.
Takumi received and cut inside. Marc moved toward him. Takumi passed to Yusuke before contact came. Yusuke controlled, turned, and instantly felt Aka nearby.
Not close enough to tackle.
Close enough to exist.
That was somehow worse.
Aka's presence pressed against the moment.
Yusuke didn't look at him.
He looked at the goal.
Then at Kaito.
Then at Yuma.
Then at Pambara, who was still trailing behind the play, exhausted but pointing.
"Back post!" Pambara shouted.
Yusuke saw it.
Sora was there.
Barely.
Yusuke clipped the ball across.
It floated over one defender, past another, and dropped toward the far side of the box.
Sora threw himself at it.
His foot connected.
Shot.
The ball flew toward the near corner.
Adrien shifted late.
For half a second, it looked in.
For half a second, the whole stadium believed.
Then the ball struck the outside of the post.
Clipped it.
Spun wide.
Out.
The sound was small.
Cruel.
A tiny metallic kiss that felt louder than thunder.
Sora landed hard and didn't move for a second. He just lay there staring at the sky, rainless clouds drifting above the stadium lights.
"…No way," he whispered.
Nocturne cleared the ball.
The clock hit ninety-two minutes.
One minute left.
Southside's players were barely standing now.
Yusuke bent forward, hands on his knees, trying to breathe. Kaito stood frozen near the box. Yuma stared at the post like it had personally betrayed him. Hiroto looked at the referee, then the clock, then the field.
Still one minute.
One minute was nothing.
One minute was everything.
Aka walked slowly past Yusuke.
For once, he didn't say anything strange.
No insult.
No joke.
No weird smile.
He just looked at him and said one thing.
"You made this interesting."
Yusuke lifted his head slowly, sweat dripping from his chin.
"…It's not over."
Aka's eyes narrowed slightly.
Then his smile returned.
"No."
He looked toward the scoreboard.
Then back to Yusuke.
"But it's ending."
The ball rolled back into play.
Nocturne moved it carefully now, protecting possession, making Southside chase. Every pass stole seconds. Every touch pushed the match closer to death.
Yuma sprinted after Marc.
Hiroto chased Réservoir.
Takumi pressed Theo.
Pambara stumbled forward, still trying to help, still trying to read, still trying to stand.
But the ball kept moving.
Nocturne weren't attacking anymore.
They were closing the book.
The referee lifted the whistle toward his mouth.
Yusuke saw it.
His eyes widened.
Not yet.
Not like this.
He sprinted toward Réservoir, throwing everything left in his body into one final press.
Réservoir saw him coming.
For the first time, he didn't smirk.
He passed.
Clean.
Safe.
Aka received it near midfield.
The whistle entered the referee's mouth.
And Yusuke kept running.