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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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Francesco finally turned toward the dressing room with the squad followed, as first knockout battle was getting closer.
Then the matchday arrived without asking permission.
There was no dramatic announcement.
No single moment when the hotel suddenly felt different.
It was simply there.
Waiting.
The first England players began emerging from their rooms while the corridors were still quiet, dressed in team tracksuits, carrying the tired expressions of men who had slept but never quite managed to switch their minds off.
Today was Japan.
The word had been hanging over the camp for days.
Now it was no longer something to prepare for.
It was something to play.
Francesco woke before his alarm.
For several seconds he remained still, staring at the ceiling.
Then he reached for his phone.
The time was early.
Too early, probably.
He sat up and rubbed his face.
There was no point trying to sleep again.
He showered, dressed, checked that his boots and personal belongings were packed, and stood for a moment in front of the mirror.
The captain's armband was waiting inside his bag.
He looked at it.
Then closed the bag.
Downstairs, breakfast was already being served.
Normally there would have been more noise.
Lingard would have found something to joke about.
Rooney might have complained about somebody taking his preferred seat.
Kane would probably have been quietly eating while listening to everyone else.
This morning was different.
The conversations were softer.
Shorter.
Henderson sat with a cup of coffee, looking through the day's schedule.
Trippier was speaking quietly with Walker.
Lingard was scrolling through his phone, occasionally glancing up.
Francesco sat down beside Kane.
Kane looked at him.
"You sleep?"
"Eventually."
"Same."
Francesco picked up his drink.
"You nervous?"
Kane thought about it.
"A little."
Francesco smiled.
"Good."
Kane raised an eyebrow.
"Good?"
"Means you care."
Kane smiled.
"Fair enough."
Across the table, Rooney heard them.
"Everyone's nervous."
He paused.
"Anyone who says otherwise is lying."
That earned a few smiles.
The tension didn't disappear.
But it became easier to breathe around.
After breakfast, the players returned upstairs for their final belongings.
Bags were collected.
Doors closed.
The familiar procession began.
Down through the hotel.
Out toward the waiting bus.
Security personnel stood nearby.
The morning air in Rostov-on-Don felt different from Saint Petersburg.
Warmer.
Heavier.
There was already movement around the streets.
World Cup volunteers.
Police.
Supporters wearing England shirts.
Others carrying Japanese flags.
Francesco climbed aboard and took his seat beside the window.
As the bus pulled away, he watched the city pass.
He had travelled through this tournament already.
Belgium.
Panama.
Tunisia.
Three matches that had brought three victories.
But this journey felt nothing like those.
There would be no group table afterward.
No calculations.
No "we can recover next time."
There was only this.
One match.
One chance.
Francesco rested his forehead briefly against the window.
No second chance.
The thought followed him all the way to Rostov Arena, as they arrive at the stadium that already alive when the England bus arrived.
Noise rolled through the streets surrounding the ground.
England flags hung from railings.
Japanese supporters gathered in groups, singing and waving flags.
Security barriers divided the crowds.
Television crews moved around with cameras on their shoulders, reporters speaking urgently into microphones as the players' arrival approached.
When the bus doors opened, the atmosphere immediately became louder.
Francesco stepped down with his bag over one shoulder.
A few England supporters called his name.
He looked toward them and raised a hand.
"Come on, England!"
The response was immediate.
He smiled and followed his teammates inside.
The corridors were crowded with staff and officials.
The further they went, the more the outside noise disappeared behind concrete walls.
Then they reached the dressing room.
Everything was waiting.
England training kits had been laid out neatly at every locker.
Shirts.
Shorts.
Socks.
Training tops.
Water bottles.
The familiar preparation began.
Players changed quietly.
Some spoke.
Others didn't.
Francesco pulled on his training shirt and tied his boots.
Kane was already ready.
"Ready?"
Francesco nodded.
"Let's go."
The doors opened.
The players stepped outside.
The roar hit them immediately.
Then the warm-up began with stretching.
Then light jogging.
The players moved in lines across the pitch, gradually increasing their pace.
Short accelerations followed.
Francesco sprinted ten metres, slowed, turned and repeated the movement.
The coaches watched carefully.
No wasted effort.
No unnecessary exertion.
Every movement had a purpose.
The goalkeepers worked separately.
Pickford moved rapidly across his line as the goalkeeper coaches fired low shots toward the corners.
He saved one.
Then another.
Then pushed a third around the post.
"Good!"
At the other end, the outfield players moved into passing exercises.
Two touches.
Receive.
Pass.
Move.
Again.
The rhythm grew faster.
Trippier began crossing from the right.
Kane attacked the near post.
Francesco delayed his run toward the centre.
Lingard arrived late.
One cross.
Then another.
Defensive movements followed.
Maguire, Stones and Walker shifted across together.
Henderson dropped between them.
The coaches shouted instructions.
"Keep the line!"
"Step!"
"Recover!"
Francesco watched everything.
He wasn't simply another player warming up anymore.
The armband was waiting for him.
And he could feel the responsibility.
He looked toward the stands.
England supporters were already singing.
His heart beat faster.
He breathed slowly.
Stay calm.
The final finishing exercise began.
Francesco received from Lingard and finished low.
Kawashima's substitute goalkeeper pushed it away.
Kane followed up.
Goal.
Trippier crossed again.
Francesco attacked the ball.
Header.
Wide.
He shook his head.
"Again."
Trippier smiled.
"You'll get it."
Francesco nodded.
He wanted the next one.
Eventually the coaching staff called the players back.
The warm-up was finished.
The England players turned toward their supporters.
For several seconds they stood together.
Then they applauded.
The England end responded with a tremendous roar.
Francesco raised his hands.
He could feel the stadium.
This was no longer preparation.
It was almost time.
Back inside, the players moved quickly.
Training shirts came off.
Showers were brief.
Nobody lingered.
Fresh towels.
Match kits.
Boots tightened.
Shirts pulled into place.
The dressing room slowly became quieter.
Francesco adjusted the sleeves of his England shirt.
Then the captain's armband was handed to him.
He slipped it around his arm.
For a moment he looked down at it.
Then he looked up.
Southgate was standing at the front.
Everyone gathered.
The manager waited until every player was listening.
"Right."
The room settled completely.
"This is the team."
He began.
"Pickford."
Jordan nodded.
"Maguire. Stones. Walker."
The three defenders looked up.
"Henderson holding."
Henderson nodded.
"Rose and Trippier providing the width."
Both wing-backs acknowledged him.
"Alli and Lingard in midfield."
Then Southgate looked toward the front two.
"Kane."
Harry nodded.
"And Francesco."
Francesco met his manager's eyes.
"You're captain."
He nodded.
Southgate continued.
"Three-one-four-two. We stay compact. We move the ball quickly. We use the width, but we don't become stretched."
He pointed toward the midfield.
"Henderson, control that area. Alli, Lingard, support the front two. When Kane drops, someone has to run beyond him."
His attention moved to the wing-backs.
"Trippier. Rose. Choose your moments. Don't both go at once unless we've got the cover."
Then Kane and Francesco.
"Stretch them. Move their centre-backs. Don't stand beside each other."
Francesco nodded.
Southgate's voice became firmer.
"And when we lose it, react."
He looked around the room.
"Don't dive into challenges because you're desperate to win it back. Press when the trigger is there. If it's not, recover your shape."
He paused.
"Japan will punish us if we give them space."
The screen behind him changed.
Japan's lineup appeared.
"Eiji Kawashima."
Then the defence.
"Nagatomo. Shoji. Yoshida. Sakai."
The midfield.
"Shibasaki. Hasebe."
Then the attacking line.
"Inui. Kagawa. Haraguchi."
And finally:
"Osako."
Southgate turned back toward them.
"They're technically very good. They move together. Their transitions are quick."
He pointed toward the midfield.
"We lose the ball here, they can be in our box before we've recovered."
Nobody spoke.
"They'll exploit space immediately. So don't give them unnecessary space."
Southgate let the silence sit.
"We're not trying to protect nine points."
A few players looked up.
"The group stage is irrelevant now."
He looked directly at them.
"This is a knockout game."
His voice softened slightly.
"Trust the work you've done."
A pause.
"Stay composed."
Another.
"Attack with courage."
He looked toward the bench.
"And remember something else. Whoever starts doesn't mean whoever finishes. Every player in this room may become important."
That mattered.
Everyone understood it.
Southgate stepped back.
"Go and play."
The players rose together, and then head to the corridor then head toward the tunnel seemed longer than usual.
Francesco walked at the front of the England line.
The captain.
Beside him was the young mascot assigned to him.
The child looked nervous.
Francesco noticed.
He lowered his voice.
"You all right?"
The child nodded.
Francesco smiled.
"Good. Just enjoy it."
The boy looked up.
"Okay."
Francesco took his hand.
The two walked forward together.
Across from them, the Japanese players were already forming their line.
Hasebe stood near the front.
Kagawa spoke quietly to one of his teammates.
Kane stood behind Francesco.
The tunnel filled.
The referee appeared.
The players moved forward.
Then they stepped into the light.
The roar was enormous.
For a second, Francesco almost forgot to breathe.
England and Japan walked onto the pitch together.
The players formed their lines.
Then moved shoulder-to-shoulder.
England's anthem played first.
Francesco stood proudly at the front, one hand beside his body, the captain's armband visible.
The England supporters sang.
Loud.
Passionate.
Almost defiant.
Japan's anthem followed.
The stadium listened.
Then came the handshakes.
Francesco shook hands with the Japanese players and the officials.
Hasebe reached him.
"Good luck."
"You too."
They separated.
The photographers gathered.
The England starting eleven posed for the official photograph.
Francesco stood prominently among them.
Captain.
Kane beside him.
The defenders behind.
The cameras flashed.
Then the players dispersed.
Francesco and Hasebe walked toward the referee.
"Call?"
"Right."
The referee tossed the coin.
It landed.
England.
Francesco nodded.
Hasebe offered his hand.
A respectful handshake.
Then Francesco turned.
"Come on."
England took their positions.
The ball waited at the centre.
The whistle sounded.
Then the match exploded into life.
There was no gentle beginning.
Japan pressed immediately.
England responded by moving the ball quickly.
Henderson received under pressure.
One touch.
Pass.
Alli moved.
Lingard dropped.
Trippier pushed forward.
The Japanese midfield closed.
A tackle came.
The crowd reacted.
Francesco was already shouting.
"Stay calm!"
Kane looked toward him.
Francesco pointed.
"Move it!"
England switched play.
Rose advanced.
His cross was blocked.
Japan countered.
Inui collected.
Kagawa appeared beside him.
Haraguchi sprinted beyond.
Stones stepped across.
Walker recovered.
The attack ended.
But the message was clear.
Japan were dangerous.
Very dangerous.
The first twenty minutes became a battle of small margins.
Kane dropped deep and dragged Yoshida forward.
Francesco moved into the space behind him.
Lingard found pockets.
Alli tried to turn.
Trippier crossed.
Rose attacked from the opposite side.
Japan defended patiently.
Then, whenever England lost possession, the Japanese attack came alive.
Inui.
Kagawa.
Haraguchi.
Osako.
Four players capable of combining before England had time to breathe.
"Francesco!" Henderson shouted.
"I'm here!"
The captain dropped deeper.
He helped close the passing lane.
England recovered.
The crowd applauded.
But Japan refused to retreat.
The match had become frantic.
Every pass mattered.
Every misplaced touch drew noise.
Every tackle was greeted with a roar.
Then came the twenty-eighth minute.
England lost possession.
For half a second, the shape opened.
Japan saw it.
Shibasaki moved the ball forward.
Hasebe followed.
Kagawa received and immediately released it.
One pass.
Then another.
Haraguchi was moving.
"Get back!" Francesco shouted.
Maguire turned.
Stones stepped across.
Walker sprinted.
But Japan had already created the advantage.
The final pass found Haraguchi in the channel.
He took one touch.
Pickford came off his line.
Haraguchi struck.
Low.
Hard.
Past Pickford.
Into the corner.
Goal.
Japan 1–0 England.
The Japanese supporters erupted.
Flags flew.
The England end fell silent.
For several seconds, the English players simply stared.
Francesco didn't.
He immediately turned.
"Come on!"
He ran toward Maguire.
"Forget it."
Maguire nodded.
Stones looked frustrated.
"We were too open."
"Doesn't matter," Francesco said. "Reset."
Henderson approached.
"We're fine."
Francesco pointed toward the centre circle.
"Exactly. We're fine."
Then he turned toward Kane.
"Plenty of time."
Kane nodded.
Alli joined them.
"We keep going."
"That's it."
On the touchline, Southgate was already demanding composure.
"Calm!"
He clapped his hands.
"Keep playing!"
The restart came.
England were behind.
But they weren't broken.
If anything, the goal sharpened them.
The passes became quicker.
Rose pushed higher.
Trippier began delivering earlier.
Lingard moved closer to Kane.
Alli started receiving between the Japanese lines.
Francesco became increasingly involved.
He dropped toward the ball.
Turned.
Released.
Moved.
Then appeared somewhere else.
Japan struggled to decide whether to follow him.
At the thirty-fourth minute, Francesco received with his back to goal.
Hasebe stepped toward him.
Francesco protected the ball.
Kane moved away.
That created a pocket.
Francesco turned and drove forward.
A defender stepped across.
He slipped the ball toward Lingard.
The attack continued.
Cross.
Cleared.
England recovered.
Again.
The pressure grew.
Then, at thirty-six minutes, England finally found the opening.
Henderson won possession.
He gave it to Rooney.
Rooney wasn't on the pitch as a starter today, so instead Henderson moved the ball through Alli, who found Francesco centrally.
Francesco looked up.
Kane was between the centre-backs.
The Japanese defensive line was narrow.
Francesco slowed.
One touch.
He drew Yoshida toward him.
That was enough.
Kane began moving into the space behind.
Francesco waited until the exact moment.
Then he slipped the ball through.
Perfect weight.
Kane ran onto it.
One touch.
Finish.
Goal.
1–1.
The England supporters exploded.
Kane turned immediately toward Francesco.
Francesco was already running toward him.
They embraced.
"That was perfect!"
Kane shouted.
"You made the run!"
Kane laughed.
"Fair point."
Alli arrived.
Lingard followed.
Trippier sprinted halfway across the pitch.
Southgate applauded from the touchline.
Then immediately raised a hand.
"Focus!"
Francesco nodded.
The match was level.
But it wasn't safe.
Not remotely.
Japan restarted and immediately attacked.
Kagawa found Inui.
Inui cut inside.
Shot.
Pickford saved.
The rebound fell dangerously.
Walker cleared.
The England supporters roared.
Francesco turned toward his defenders.
"Good!"
Maguire nodded.
The final minutes of the half became a test of nerve.
England attacked through Trippier.
Kane headed wide.
Francesco tried to turn inside the penalty area.
Shoji blocked him.
Lingard found Alli.
Alli shot.
Kawashima saved.
Then Japan countered again.
Haraguchi crossed.
Osako met it.
Pickford made another important save.
The ball was cleared.
The whistle was getting closer.
But nobody relaxed.
Forty-three minutes.
Forty-four.
England pushed.
Japan resisted.
The scoreboard remained:
JAPAN 1–1 ENGLAND
Then the referee finally raised the whistle.
Half-time.
Francesco exhaled.
He looked toward Kane.
Kane nodded.
"Good response."
"Need more."
"Yeah."
They walked toward the tunnel together.
The first half had taken something from everyone.
The knockout stage was already proving exactly what Southgate had warned them it would be.
Inside the dressing room, water bottles were opened immediately.
Players sat wherever they could.
Some remained standing.
Others leaned against lockers.
Breathing heavily.
Francesco drank deeply before wiping his face with a towel.
Henderson looked across.
"We gave them too much space on the goal."
Francesco nodded.
"We did."
"But we recovered."
"That matters."
Southgate entered.
The room quietened.
He waited a moment.
"Good response."
The players listened.
"We conceded because our shape opened."
He pointed toward the midfield.
"And that is still their biggest weapon. The transition."
The tactical board appeared.
"When we lose possession, the first reaction has to be immediate. Midfield and defence, you cannot wait."
Henderson nodded.
"The wing-backs also need to choose their moments," Southgate continued. "We don't need both of you flying forward every attack."
Trippier nodded.
"Understood."
Southgate turned toward Kane and Francesco.
"You two are doing well."
Kane looked up.
"Keep stretching them."
He looked at Francesco.
"Keep making those movements. Don't get dragged too deep."
Francesco nodded.
Southgate's eyes moved around the room.
"We've shown we can hurt them."
He paused.
"But don't become reckless because we're level."
Nobody moved.
"We take control of the second half through discipline."
The manager stepped back.
"Attack with confidence."
Another pause.
"But when we lose the ball, be ready."
Francesco looked around the dressing room.
Maguire.
Stones.
Walker.
Henderson.
Alli.
Lingard.
Kane.
Every face carried the same mixture of fatigue, concentration and determination.
Forty-five minutes remained.
Forty-five minutes that could decide everything.
Southgate gave them one final look.
"Trust yourselves."
He nodded toward the door.
"Stay brave. Stay compact. Keep attacking."
The players began standing.
Francesco pulled his shirt straight and tightened the captain's armband.
Kane stepped beside him.
"You ready?"
Francesco looked at him.
"Always."
The noise from outside was growing again.
The second half was waiting.
Francesco took one final breath.
Then he followed his teammates toward the tunnel.
The group stage was gone.
Nine points meant nothing now.
The only thing that mattered was the next forty-five minutes.
Then the players emerged from the tunnel with the noise of Rostov Arena rising around them once again.
Francesco walked beside Kane, his captain's armband sitting tightly around his left arm.
The second half was about to begin.
There was no need for another speech.
No need for another reminder.
They already knew.
Forty-five minutes.
That was all they had.
Japan stood waiting on the opposite side of the pitch, their players talking among themselves as the referee checked his watch. Hasebe looked toward his teammates and gave a few final instructions.
Francesco glanced across the Japanese line.
Then toward Kane.
Kane nodded.
"Let's go."
The referee raised his whistle.
Japan kicked off.
And almost immediately, England took the initiative.
Henderson stepped forward to receive the first pass and moved it quickly into Alli. Alli turned away from pressure and found Lingard, who immediately released the ball toward Trippier.
One touch.
Cross.
Blocked.
England recovered.
The tempo was different now.
Not frantic.
Controlled.
The players were moving with purpose rather than chasing the match.
Rose pushed forward on the left while Trippier remained wide on the opposite side. Henderson stayed behind the midfield movement, constantly providing an outlet.
Kane dropped toward the ball.
Francesco moved away.
Then Kane turned and suddenly ran beyond the Japanese defence.
Francesco followed him.
The movement forced Yoshida and Shoji to make a decision.
Neither wanted to leave his position.
That hesitation was enough for Lingard to receive between them.
"Good!" Francesco shouted.
Lingard tried to turn.
Hasebe stepped across.
The ball was forced backward.
England didn't mind.
They recycled possession.
Henderson.
Alli.
Rose.
Back to Henderson.
Then Trippier.
The Japanese players began retreating.
The crowd sensed the change.
England were controlling the match.
Japan had looked so dangerous during the opening forty-five minutes, but now they were being forced deeper and deeper.
Kagawa tried to press Henderson.
Henderson calmly moved the ball away.
Inui attempted to close down Rose.
Rose passed inside.
Alli received.
The ball was moving too quickly for Japan to settle.
"Keep it!" Francesco called.
"Keep it!"
The England players responded.
There was patience now.
That was exactly what Southgate had asked for.
Don't force it.
Move them.
Wait.
Then attack.
Kane continued drifting between the lines.
Francesco alternated between the centre and the right side, constantly testing the Japanese defenders.
At one moment, he dropped almost into midfield.
At the next, he was already moving behind Yoshida.
Trippier saw the movement.
The cross came.
Francesco reached it but couldn't get enough power behind the header.
Kawashima gathered.
The Japanese goalkeeper immediately tried to release the ball quickly.
Henderson intercepted the first pass.
The crowd roared.
"Again!" Southgate shouted.
England were beginning to believe.
Japan were beginning to worry.
The pressure continued.
Then came the fifty-seventh minute.
Alli received the ball in midfield.
He took a touch forward.
His head lifted.
For a brief moment, he saw something nobody else seemed to notice.
Francesco.
Between the Japanese defenders.
The space was tiny.
Almost invisible.
Alli didn't hesitate.
He threaded the ball through.
Francesco reacted instantly.
He accelerated between Shoji and Yoshida, controlling the pass with his first touch inside the penalty area.
Kawashima rushed toward him.
Francesco didn't panic.
One touch to settle.
A second to open his body.
Then he struck.
Low.
Precise.
Beyond Kawashima.
Into the far corner.
Goal.
England 2–1 Japan.
The England supporters erupted.
Francesco's arms flew upward before he even knew where he was running.
Alli reached him first.
"Yes!"
Francesco grabbed him.
"That ball!"
Alli laughed.
"You saw it!"
"Of course I did!"
Kane arrived seconds later, wrapping an arm around both of them.
Trippier joined.
Lingard.
Henderson.
Then almost the entire England team.
The celebration became a pile of shirts, arms and shouting.
Francesco disappeared beneath his teammates.
Somewhere behind them, Southgate was applauding furiously.
But the manager's celebration lasted only a few seconds.
He raised both hands.
"Focus!"
The players heard him.
Southgate pointed toward their own half.
"Back!"
Francesco finally broke away from the group.
He looked toward the Japanese players returning to the centre circle.
The job wasn't finished.
Not even close.
"Come on!" he shouted.
England reset.
Japan restarted.
And the match changed again.
The pace slowed.
Not because either team had lost desire.
Because both understood what was at stake.
Japan needed another goal.
England didn't need to chase one.
Hasebe began taking greater responsibility in possession.
Kagawa dropped deeper.
Inui moved inside.
The Japanese players passed the ball patiently, trying to pull England apart.
England remained compact.
Maguire stayed close to Stones.
Walker covered the space behind.
Henderson protected the area in front of them.
Francesco dropped when necessary, then immediately pushed forward again.
The game became a contest of patience.
Japan searched.
England waited.
Then came the sixty-third minute.
Francesco received the ball well outside the penalty area.
There was space ahead of him.
Not much.
But enough.
He turned.
One Japanese midfielder moved toward him.
Francesco pushed the ball past him.
Another defender stepped across.
A quick touch with the outside of his boot.
He went around him.
The crowd rose.
"Come on!"
Francesco kept going.
Shoji tried to close the angle.
Francesco shifted his body left.
Then right.
Shoji's feet moved with him.
Too late.
Francesco accelerated again.
Yoshida came across.
Francesco took another touch.
He was inside the penalty area now.
Three defenders were surrounding him.
For a moment, it seemed impossible to escape.
Then he dropped his shoulder.
One movement.
One burst.
He slipped between them.
Kawashima rushed forward.
Francesco looked up.
Calm.
Almost impossibly calm considering the chaos around him.
He struck the ball cleanly.
A beautiful finish.
Beyond Kawashima.
Into the net.
3–1.
The stadium exploded.
Francesco turned and barely managed two steps before Kane reached him.
Harry grabbed him around the shoulders.
"What a goal!"
Francesco laughed, almost breathless.
"I don't know what happened!"
"You just ran through everyone!"
Lingard arrived.
"You're ridiculous!"
Trippier was laughing.
Rooney, watching from the bench, stood and applauded.
Southgate allowed himself a proud smile.
For a moment, he simply watched.
Then he clapped his hands again.
"Stay focused!"
Francesco looked toward him.
He nodded.
The scoreline had changed dramatically.
But the manager's message remained exactly the same.
There was still time.
Japan were wounded now, but that could make them dangerous.
Akira Nishino understood that too.
At the seventy-first minute, he made his move.
Haraguchi was withdrawn.
Shibasaki followed him toward the sideline.
Honda entered.
Then Yamaguchi.
The Japanese supporters responded immediately.
They knew what their manager was trying to do.
More energy.
More attacking intent.
More urgency.
Southgate responded almost simultaneously.
He looked toward his bench.
"Kane."
Harry glanced over.
"You're coming off."
Kane nodded.
Then Southgate looked toward Francesco.
"And you."
Francesco understood.
"Alli as well."
The three players began walking toward the sideline.
The England supporters rose.
A tremendous applause rolled around the stadium.
Francesco looked toward Kane.
"Well played."
Kane smiled.
"You too."
Francesco turned toward Alli.
"That pass."
Alli laughed.
"Worth it."
As Francesco reached the sideline, he noticed the armband.
He removed it carefully.
Rooney was waiting.
Francesco handed it to him.
"Your turn."
Rooney took it.
He looked at the armband, then at Francesco.
"Good job, captain."
Francesco smiled.
"Finish it."
Rooney nodded.
"We will."
They exchanged a brief embrace before Francesco stepped away.
Kane received another round of applause as he left.
Alli followed.
Sterling came on.
Vardy joined him.
Rooney entered the pitch.
England reorganised.
Rooney immediately began talking.
"Settle!"
He pointed toward Henderson.
"Keep the ball."
The shape changed.
England were no longer trying to dominate every attacking phase.
They were managing the match.
Japan had to come forward.
That created spaces.
And England had Vardy and Sterling.
The first counterattack came almost immediately.
Henderson won the ball.
Rooney received.
He waited.
Then played forward.
Vardy was already sprinting.
Sterling raced alongside him.
The Japanese defenders turned.
Vardy reached the box.
His shot was blocked.
The rebound fell to Sterling.
Kawashima saved.
Japan survived.
But England had made their point.
They could still hurt them.
Japan pushed forward again.
Honda tried to find Osako.
Maguire stepped across.
Clearance.
Kagawa recovered the second ball.
He tried to turn.
Henderson closed him down.
Rooney arrived.
The ball went backward.
The Japanese attack stalled.
"That's it!" Rooney shouted.
England were learning how to close the game.
Francesco watched from the sideline, still breathing heavily.
The adrenaline hadn't disappeared.
He kept standing.
Every few seconds, he found himself leaning forward.
When Walker made a tackle, Francesco clapped.
When Henderson slowed the tempo, he nodded.
When Vardy chased a loose ball into the corner, Francesco shouted encouragement.
Japan refused to surrender.
They continued pressing.
Inui found space on the left.
He cut inside and shot.
Pickford saved.
The ball bounced dangerously.
Stones cleared.
The England supporters roared.
"COME ON!"
Japan attacked again.
Nagatomo pushed forward.
Honda moved into the box.
A cross came.
Maguire rose above everyone.
Header.
Away.
Walker immediately stepped toward the loose ball.
England countered.
Sterling ran.
Vardy followed.
Rooney was behind them.
The pass went to Sterling.
Sterling crossed.
Vardy attacked.
His header went wide.
Francesco put both hands on his head.
Rooney laughed from the pitch.
The minutes were disappearing.
Eighty minutes.
Then eighty-two.
Japan were throwing more players forward.
England's defensive structure became increasingly important.
Maguire commanded from the back.
Stones constantly checked his shoulder.
Walker covered the wide areas.
Henderson dropped into the spaces that appeared.
Rooney continued slowing the match whenever he could.
A foul here.
A throw-in there.
A calm pass instead of a risky one.
It wasn't glamorous.
It was intelligent.
It was necessary.
Southgate stood near the edge of his technical area, watching every second.
The scoreboard remained:
JAPAN 1–3 ENGLAND
Francesco glanced toward it.
Ten minutes.
Then eight.
Then five.
The supporters were already singing.
The England players could hear them.
Japan's final attacks became increasingly desperate.
Kagawa tried a through ball.
Walker intercepted.
Honda attempted a long-range effort.
Pickford collected.
Inui crossed.
Maguire cleared.
Osako fought for the second ball.
Stones won it.
Rooney received.
He turned away from pressure.
The referee looked at his watch.
Three minutes.
Francesco stood beside the substitutes.
Lingard looked toward him.
"You've had a day."
Francesco smiled.
"Not finished yet."
"You scored two."
"Still not finished."
Lingard laughed.
"Of course."
The final minute arrived.
Japan launched one last attack.
Honda moved forward.
Yamaguchi supported.
Kagawa found Osako.
The striker turned.
Walker closed him down.
The ball was forced wide.
Cross.
Maguire headed away.
The ball dropped outside the box.
Henderson cleared it toward the halfway line.
Rooney chased.
The whistle sounded.
Full-time.
For a second, nobody moved.
Then the England players exploded.
Rooney raised both arms.
Sterling sprinted toward the others.
Vardy shouted.
Maguire punched the air.
Henderson turned toward the England supporters.
Southgate applauded from the touchline.
Francesco stood among the substitutes, breathing deeply.
Then he smiled.
It had happened.
England had come from behind.
They had survived.
They had won their first knockout match.
Japan 1–3 England.
The travelling supporters were singing now.
Loud enough to shake the stadium.
Francesco walked onto the pitch.
Kane reached him.
They embraced.
"Quarter-final."
Francesco laughed.
"Quarter-final."
Kane shook his head.
"Two goals."
"And one assist."
"Don't forget that."
"I won't."
Rooney approached with the captain's armband still around his arm.
He removed it and handed it back.
"Here."
Francesco took it.
"Thanks."
Rooney smiled.
"Good job."
Francesco looked around.
His teammates were celebrating everywhere.
Some had fallen to their knees.
Others were applauding the supporters.
Southgate remained near the technical area, exchanging handshakes with members of his staff.
The manager caught Francesco's eye.
He simply nodded.
Francesco nodded back.
There was no need for words.
They had talked about this moment for days.
One mistake could end the tournament.
Japan had scored first.
England had been forced to respond.
And they had.
Not with panic.
Not with desperation.
With football.
With patience.
With courage.
Francesco looked toward the England supporters.
He raised both hands and applauded.
The response was enormous.
The players slowly began moving toward the tunnel.
Francesco walked beside Kane.
Behind them came Lingard, Trippier, Henderson and Rooney.
The noise followed them.
For the first time since arriving in Rostov-on-Don, Francesco allowed himself to breathe without thinking about the next pass, the next defensive movement or the next Japanese counterattack.
They had survived.
The group stage was truly gone now.
Belgium.
Panama.
Tunisia.
Nine points.
Those victories had brought them here.
But they hadn't carried England through this night.
This had been different.
This had been the first real test of what England were capable of when the tournament became unforgiving.
__________________________________________________
Name : Francesco Lee
Age : 19 (2017)
Birthplace : London, England
Football Club : Arsenal First Team
Championship History : 2014/2015 Premier League, 2014/2015 FA Cup, 2015/2016 Community Shield, 2016/2017 Premier League, 2015/2016 Champions League, Euro 2016, Premier League Champion 2016/2017, FA Cup 2016/2017, 2016/2017 Champions League, 2017/2018 Carabao Cup, Premier League 2017/2018, FA Cup 2017/2018, and Champions League 2017/2018.
Season 17/18 stats:
Arsenal:
Match: 59
Goal: 76
Assist: 6
MOTM: 7
POTM: 0
England:
Match: 8
Goal: 9
Assist: 1
MOTM: 3
Season 16/17 stats:
Arsenal:
Match: 55
Goal: 87
Assist: 5
MOTM: 14
POTM: 1
England:
Match: 1
Goal: 1
Assist: 0
MOTM: 0
Season 15/16 stats:
Arsenal:
Match Played: 60
Goal: 82
Assist: 10
MOTM: 9
POTM: 1
England:
Match Played: 2
Goal: 4
Assist: 0
Euro 2016
Match Played: 6
Goal: 13
Assist: 4
MOTM: 6
Season 14/15 stats:
Match Played: 35
Goal: 45
Assist: 12
MOTM: 9