Little by little, we walked toward the tunnel that led to the locker room. The air inside was completely different—stuffy, filled with the smell of sweat, spray, and victory. Murilo went in first, still laughing loudly with Dante, while Felipe pretended to raise another imaginary trophy in the air. I came right behind them, holding my medal carefully, as if it might disappear if I blinked.

As soon as the locker room door closed, the noise from the stands grew distant. Only the team's voices remained—euphoric, mixed with laughter that echoed off the walls. Ian was the first to open his bag—and when he pulled out a huge black speaker with a glowing skull logo, Kazana immediately turned his head, incredulous.

"Why the hell did you bring a speaker?", he asked, raising an eyebrow, his voice still hoarse from shouting during the match.

Ian, with a grin that mixed pride and madness, answered without hesitation,

"I knew we were gonna win. And now it's time to celebrate!"

Kazana stared at him for a few seconds, as if trying to process the absurdity of it all, then just sighed, shaking his head with a tired half-smile.

"You're insane"

"Maybe", Ian said, connecting his phone to the speaker, "but a happy insane!"

A second later, the whole locker room shook with the heavy sound of an aggressive phonk track, bass so deep it made the benches vibrate. Felipe burst out laughing, Oliveira covered his face with his hands, and Murilo yelled something about the stadium neighbors calling the police.

Ian didn't care. He was spinning his arms in the air like he was at a party and pointed at Dante. "Come on, Dante! I saw you dancing on TikTok, don't hide now!"

"Screw you", Dante replied, laughing, but Ian was already pulling him by the arm, insisting. Within seconds, the two were dancing clumsily in the middle of the locker room, kicking towels, knocking over water bottles, and laughing nonstop.

Murilo started clapping along with the beat, and Felipe threw a towel over Ian's head.

Even Kazana gave in. Leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, he watched it all with a discreet laugh, trying to hide how ridiculous he thought it was—but also how happy he felt.

Rafael came into the locker room moments later and saw the chaos, "You guys are insane!", he shouted, though his tone carried a hidden laugh, "You didn't even call me!"

Ian laughed and turned the volume up even higher, the phonk echoing down the hallway, while Dante, completely carried away, started jumping. It was the kind of moment no one wanted to end.

I just sat on the bench, laughing. That was the Sanu team—loud, messy, but united in a way only those who live on the field could understand.

***

The trip back home was even louder. Everyone on the team had been swept up by Ian's contagious energy, not only dancing on the bus but also singing along to the music and taking pictures with the regional trophy.

The streets were wet, reflecting the orange glow of the streetlights, and the team bus moved slowly. Some were trying to sleep, like Oliveira; others were just scrolling through their phones. And me… I just stared out the window.

When I got home, it was already a bit late. The match had started in the morning, but because of all the post-game celebrations, I arrived around 8 p.m. The gate creaked like always, and the porch light was on. Before I could even knock, the door opened.

"Oh my God, Kelvin!", she said, pulling me into a tight hug, "I saw everything! Your interview just aired on the local channel"

My father came right behind her, holding a soda can and smiling.

"The boy's a star now, huh?"

I chuckled awkwardly.

"It's just the regional, Dad"

"Regional or world, doesn't matter. You played great", he said, giving my shoulder a light pat.

My little brother suddenly appeared, holding his phone, "Kelvin! I recorded your third goal! I posted it on my TikTok!"

"Oh no," I muttered, trying not to laugh, but he was already turning the screen toward me, "Look! Look at the comments!"

I rolled my eyes, laughing, "Okay, okay, I'll check it later."

My mom placed her hand on my face, her eyes soft, "I'm so proud of you, my son. You deserve every second of this"

I nodded, trying to hide the lump in my throat.

"Thanks, Mom"

After a few more hugs and laughs, I went up to my room. The exhaustion was finally setting in.

The yellowish light of my room was on, and the silence inside felt like another world compared to the shouting in the locker room. I dropped my bag on the floor and sat on the edge of the bed, taking a deep breath.

I carefully took off my medals, the metal still cool against my fingers. There were three: the gold one from the regional championship, a silver one engraved "MVP Final 2025," and a smaller one that read "Top Scorer." Each seemed to carry a different feeling.

I opened my desk drawer and placed them inside, neatly lined up, the metallic clink echoing softly.

Then I looked at the trophies.

The MVP trophy was made of clear glass with a dark marble base. On the front, engraved in gold letters, it said Most Valuable Player – Regional 2025. It reflected the lamp light in a mesmerizing way, casting tiny glimmers on the wall.

The Top Scorer trophy was simpler but had a design that caught my attention: a golden ball resting on a black plaque, with my name engraved on a small silver plate. I touched it lightly, still in disbelief.

I placed both trophies side by side on the shelf—one next to the other, shining under the soft light.

I looked at them in silence for a few seconds.

It was strange. I should've been jumping for joy, but what I felt was different—a mix of calm and gratitude, like every drop of sweat, every pain, every mistake had turned into something solid, real, right in front of me.

I grabbed my phone and opened the team group chat. Ian had already sent a video of him dancing with Dante in the locker room, captioned, "Where's the Zenkai team now?" Felipe replied with a flood of fire emojis, and Murilo sent a picture of his Best Goalkeeper trophy.

I smiled.

"Idiots", I muttered, still smiling.

I dropped onto my bed, letting my body sink into the mattress. The white ceiling stared back at me, and the faint sounds of the street were the only noise left.

I closed my eyes.

I could still hear the crowd's roar, the echo of the shouts, the thud of the ball hitting the net. That last second before the goal replayed in my head, like a flash looping endlessly.

And before I finally drifted off... You still haven't given me my reward, system.

[Mission: Win the Regional]

[Reward: Secret Style / +20 Status Boost]

[Mission Complete]

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