Harbinger Of Glory-Chapter 166: In The Lull.

The remaining half hour passed without much to hold onto.

Rotherham pushed forward in spells, hopeful balls sent into the box more out of persistence than belief, while Wigan stayed compact, happy to slow the game and see it out.

The ball moved side to side, whistles followed late challenges, and the crowd reacted more out of habit than real expectation.

The game had already settled into a lull, and the expectation of the crowd had gone down with it.

When the game ended, the sound was almost anticlimactic.

"Full time here," the commentator said, voice calm.

"It finishes goalless."

He continued as players began to exchange handshakes across the pitch.

"Wigan might feel they’ve left something on the table. A win today would have taken them level on points with the side sitting seventh, even if that team still has a game in hand. Instead, it’s a draw, but not one that either side will be too disappointed with."

The camera followed the players as they drifted apart, fatigue written plainly on their faces, not from how tired they were, but from the appalling scoreline.

It wasn’t too weird, though, because results like this were more often than not seen as a staple in the English Championship.

"For all the talk before kickoff," the commentary went on, "both teams defended well, limited clear chances, and in the end, a point each probably reflects the balance of the game."

Applause rolled around the stadium, a bit lower than usual, but it seemed like every soul in the stadium was satisfied with the results.

Leo, who was still seated while all this was going on, finally rose to his feet, but didn’t venture onto the pitch.

Rather, he made his way towards the tunnel, where the staff stood, waiting for their players.

.....

The bus pulled away from the ASSEAL New York Stadium an hour after the whistle had passed, enough time for the players to wash down if they wanted to and settle.

Dawson, in his seat, glanced over his shoulder, finding Leo, who sat a few rows back, hoodie pulled over his head, one arm draped along the back of the seat in front of him.

His head rested there too, face turned away.

He couldn’t see the latter’s face that much, but Leo’s body language told all Dawson wanted to know.

The Wigan coach gave a small, knowing smile and turned back to face the road.

By the time they reached Wigan, the squad thinned out quickly.

Cars peeled away in different directions, headlights disappearing into the night.

Leo, on the other hand, made his way to the accommodation block, unlocked his apartment door and stepped inside, boots kicked off by the entrance.

Ezra followed, dropping his bag with a dull thud.

"You heading back to yours or crashing here?" Leo asked.

Ezra shrugged. "No idea."

He flopped onto the couch without another word, phone already in his hand, while Leo moved towards his bed and fell back onto the mattress, arms spread, staring at the ceiling.

He let out a long breath, shutting his eyes in hopes that sleep might come, but after a few minutes without it coming, he pushed himself up.

"Where you going?" Ezra asked, voice tired but curious.

"Just want to check something out."

Ezra nodded, eyes still on his screen.

"You want food? I’m about to order."

"I might be back in like an hour."

Ezra laughed.

"Perfect timing. That’s exactly how long delivery takes."

Leo smiled. "Add my name then."

Back at the staff complex, Nolan paused just before Dawson’s table.

Football commentary and fan chants drifted about the room, ones from the game they had just played a couple of hours ago.

"Like master, like protégé."

Dawson looked up from his laptop.

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

"Leo just asked one of the staff for the game tape."

Dawson raised an eyebrow before looking back at his screen.

"Smart kid."

"I just hope it doesn’t mess with his confidence," Nolan said. "He did about as well as he could."

Dawson nodded slowly.

"Yes, he did, but his teammates weren’t able to capitalise on the space that was given. And now, I am finding ways to punish teams when they lock onto one player. Not just Leo. Anyone."

Nolan adjusted the strap on his bag, smiling at Dawson’s words, but that wasn’t enough to make him stick around.

"See you tomorrow."

The door clicked shut behind him, while Dawson sighed slightly, before resuming the video he had paused.

....

Away from the two coaches, Leo sat alone in one of the study rooms, scrolling through the timestamps he had marked.

He rewound, paused, played again and muttered under his breath, more frustrated and annoyed than angry.

"They made me play for nobody."

He leaned back in the chair, stared at the ceiling for a moment, then shut the desktop down.

Pushing to his feet, Leo grabbed his hoodie and notebook before slipping out of the room.

.....

"I heard you’re flying to the UK."

Vittoria closed her eyes for a second, phone pressed to her ear.

Her father’s voice came through steady, but she could hear the concern underneath it.

"My agent told you," she asked, though it hardly sounded like a question.

A pause came through, then, a little too quickly, "She mentioned it. I didn’t pressure her or anything."

Vittoria sighed and rubbed her temple. "Did you call her?"

"No. I mean, I asked how things were going, and she said you’d dropped a few commitments and—"

"Papà," Vittoria cut in gently, "don’t worry her. Please. Of course, she is going to tell you if you ask. She doesn’t want to get on your bad side."

He fell quiet on the other end, before a slight smile came through.

"Yes," she continued, softer now. "I’m going to the UK. Just a few days. A week at most."

Silence stretched between them.

Long enough for Vittoria to pull the phone away, check the screen, then bring it back to her ear.

"I had something I wanted to say," her father finally admitted. "But I don’t know how."

She smiled sadly. "You don’t have to."

Another breath, heavier this time.

"I’m sorry we won’t spend Christmas together again."

"It’s okay," Vittoria said, even if the word caught a little on the way out.

"I know how busy everyone is. It’s not new."

"That doesn’t make it easier."

"I’ll be fine," she said. "Really."

Her father exhaled. "Tell me when you land."

"I will. And greet mamma for me."

"I will. Be safe."

She ended the call and let the phone rest in her palm for a moment longer than necessary.

Then she looked up, where two suitcases stood near the door.

A carry-on leaned against the wall.

Clothes, shoes and coats she probably didn’t need for that short duration, but she couldn’t afford to slack off.

With her job and all the cameras and eyes on her, it was a given that she looked the part wherever she went.

"This isn’t a bit much, is it?" she muttered to herself.

Vittoria dropped into the chair beside the table and unlocked her phone again, tapping Gianna’s name.

It rang a few times before the call picked up.

"Wow," Vittoria said immediately. "You’re not even married, and you’re already ignoring me."

"Sorry," Gianna replied, voice light and apologetic. "We were in the middle of something."

"Of course you were."

Gianna laughed. "When are you flying?"

"Tomorrow or the day after. I haven’t decided yet."

"And your manager just let you?"

Vittoria scoffed. "Gianna, I’m the client. Not the employee."

"Fair enough."

"I’ll finish some work in London while I’m there, too," Vittoria added.

"Makes sense."

A pause came on the other side after Vittoria heard a door open and then close.

Then Gianna’s voice came through once again.

"I should go. Carlo just got home."

"Of course he did," Vittoria said. "Tell him I said—"

But the line went dead before she could finish.

Vittoria stared at her screen, then let her head fall back against the chair.

"Unbelievable. That’s low even for that ungrateful wench," she muttered with a little smile, exhaling slowly as the room settled into silence.

.....

The recovery session ended without much ceremony the following day.

Just some light jogging, stretching, and a few quiet groans as tired legs were coaxed back into motion.

Leo wiped his nose with the sleeve of his shirt and slowed to a walk as the whistle went.

Around him, players peeled off in small groups, already talking about food.

Ezra clapped his hands once. "I’m starving."

Jake nodded and started drifting toward the path that led to the senior team’s cafeteria.

He wasn’t meant to eat there, not officially, but he did it often enough that no one really stopped him anymore.

"You coming?" Jake asked over his shoulder.

Leo glanced down at himself and saw his shirt clinging uncomfortably to his back, sweat cooling in patches.

"Nah. I’m going to shower first. I feel gross."

Ezra made a face. "Fair. We’ll save you a seat."

Leo smiled faintly and turned the other way, heading toward his building.

He shut the door behind him, dropped his training gear onto a chair, and stepped into the shower.

The water was hot enough to sting at first, then settled into something soothing.

He stayed there longer than usual before grabbing his buff ball

(loofah) and deciding to go all the way again.

When he finally stepped out, steam still clinging to the air, he wrapped a towel around his waist and reached for another to dry his hair.

His phone buzzed against the counter just then, causing him to move towards it and pick it up.

Vittoria: Just boarded. I’ll text when I land.

He stared at the screen for a moment, a small smile tugging at his mouth, then typed back.

Leo: Safe flight.

He set the phone down, finished drying off, and hurriedly slipped on another pair of his training shorts and top before making his way down towards the cafeteria.