The match ended at 16:00.
The team prepared to leave.
Samba gathered his belongings—his boots, water bottle, and the rest of his gear. He took off his jersey, leaving only his training vest on.
The bus horn blared again.
"Crap! Crap!"
Samba hurried toward the bus. He grabbed his things and rushed outside alongside Andol.
"Dude, how are you late for the bus?" Andol teased.
"You didn't even play, and you're judging?" Samba shot back.
"Well, either way, we're in the same boat, eh?" Andol laughed.
Samba's attention drifted toward Kibb.
"Kibb?"
"Huh? Oh... the kid."
The two stopped.
"He's been like this ever since the friendly against Vilaoin. I can't tell if it's just disappointment or something else," Samba thought, recalling what Moz had told him.
"The kid's been off for a while. See if you can do something about it."
"I'll go talk to him," Samba said.
The bus driver gave Andol a stern look as he climbed aboard.
"Oy! What about your friend?"
"He said he'll sit this one out."
"Hmph."
The bus driver frowned.
"So he's too full of himself to ride with us. I see how it is."
The bus pulled away.
Kibb wandered down the street alone.
A cool breeze brushed past him.
An empty can rolled across the road in front of him.
Without thinking, he kicked it.
Then another.
Then another.
"Where are you even going, man?"
The can rolled to a stop.
Only then did Kibb realize he had taken the wrong route.
"Hold on... where is this place?"
"Where am I going?"
"My house is tha—"
He stopped.
Samba stood in front of him.
"Ayaa..."
Kibb grabbed his hair in frustration.
"Dude, there's definitely something bothering you."
"Don't be silly."
"What—"
"Listen, if it's about me not boarding the bus... I just wanted to try something different."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"Come on, man."
Samba folded his arms.
"I'm all ears."
Kibb hesitated before speaking.
"I can't really explain what's wrong with me... but whatever I'm feeling started after that friendly."
"Against Vilaoin?" Samba asked.
"How does that add up?"
"Going into that match, I thought it was time to challenge myself."
"To face stronger opponents."
"I wanted to prove I belonged."
He looked at his hands.
"Then I was assigned to mark Vasquez."
"We lost 4–0."
He clenched his arm tightly.
"And it was my fault."
"He scored three goals because of me."
He emphasized every word.
"Ever since then..."
"I don't know."
"Usually, I face challenges with a clear mind."
"But after that game..."
"I started fearing failure."
"I started thinking about all the ways I might never make it here."
"To make things worse, Moz didn't even call me up for the first league game."
"I wasn't even named on the bench."
A few leaves drifted between them.
"Man... he's really blaming himself this much over a friendly?" Samba thought.
"I barely took that game seriously, and this guy's carrying the whole thing on his shoulders."
Kibb looked up, expecting advice.
Instead...
"BWAAAAHAHAHA!"
Samba burst into laughter.
"Dude..."
He struggled to catch his breath.
"I'm pretty sure Moz didn't bench you because you played badly."
"It was a friendly for a reason!"
He laughed again.
Then his expression slowly softened.
"I think I understand you now."
"You're the type who always wants to stand out."
"You keep judging yourself because you're chasing something bigger."
"I was like that too."
"I wanted to become outstanding."
"The best in the world, even."
"I was lucky enough to have talent."
"I dominated local competitions."
"Then I came here... expecting things to stay the same."
"They didn't."
"All I found were losses."
"Loss after loss."
He looked toward the sky as light rain began to fall.
"My view of football changed."
"I stopped living in my dreams."
"I started living in reality."
The rain grew heavier.
Their clothes were already getting soaked.
"Shoot... it's getting worse."
"Neto, I think we should head back."
Samba turned around.
Kibb hadn't moved.
"Come on."
Samba walked back toward him.
"Listen."
"I know you weren't benched because you played badly."
"But even if you were..."
"Even if Vasquez scored a hat-trick because of you..."
"You don't have to keep beating yourself up."
Kibb stared quietly at him.
Samba smiled.
"All you can do..."
"...is pick yourself up."
"Keep speeding up."
"That's all there is to it."
Samba stepped away.
"I had a nice chat."
"But this rain's getting ridiculous."
"I'll see you later."
Kibb remained rooted to the spot.
Only after Samba shouted his name did he finally run after him.
Hidden near the valley, a man watched the entire conversation.
It was Moz.
Kibb arrived home.
He changed his clothes and lay on his bed.
For several minutes, he stared silently at the ceiling.
Eventually, he got up.
He picked up a pen and wrote a short note.
He stuck it to the front of his drawer before climbing back into bed.
A little while later, his sister entered the room to collect her slippers.
She noticed the paper.
Curious, she walked over.
JUST KEEP SPEEDING UP. THERE'S NOTHING MORE TO IT.
"What's this?"
"I can't even read it without my glasses."
"Oh well... who cares?"
She shrugged and left the room.