The replay of Blackhaven's 3-0 loss played on the screen in Daisuke's office, each frame a brutal reminder of their shortcomings. Marco's misplaced pass. Sheffield's quick counters. The midfield being overrun. The final whistle cutting through the stadium like a dagger.
Daisuke exhaled, rubbing his temples as his coaching staff sat around the table.
"We were outplayed," assistant coach Owen Carter muttered.
"We knew this league would be tougher," Daniel Sutton, the tactical analyst, added. "But the midfield was completely overrun. Isaac covered so much ground—his absence was obvious."
Daisuke leaned forward. "I don't care about Isaac anymore. He's gone. What I care about is how we fix this."
Silence. Then Owen spoke.
"We need better ball retention. Marco is solid defensively, but he's not a natural distributor. Elijah struggled under pressure. Jordan was isolated."
Daisuke nodded. "Then we adjust. Possession-based training. Faster passing drills. We force them to think quicker."
Daniel tapped his pen against the table. "We also need to look at squad rotation. James Fletcher had fire when he came on. He pressed hard, won tackles. Maybe he deserves a start."
Daisuke considered it. "We'll see how he performs in training."
The meeting continued, refining their game plan for the next match. This league wasn't forgiving. If they didn't adapt, they'd keep sinking.
At training the next morning, the atmosphere was tense. No one spoke about the loss, but it hung over them like a storm cloud.
Fletcher was the first to break the silence. "I want a shot," he said, approaching Daisuke after the warm-ups.
Daisuke studied him. "You'll get your chance. But prove it in training."
Fletcher nodded, determination burning in his eyes.
Meanwhile, Marco sat on the sideline, staring at the ground. His mistake that led to the third goal still haunted him. Jordan walked up, patting his shoulder.
"Shake it off, man. It's one game."
Marco exhaled. "Yeah. Just… feels like I let everyone down."
"Then fix it," Jordan said simply.
Kaito Hayashi and Callum Shaw, the team's wingers, were deep in conversation about how they weren't getting enough service. Aidan Gallagher, their striker, joined in.
"We need to be sharper," Aidan said. "If we're not getting the ball, we need to drop deeper. Find the game."
Theo Carter, their left-back, gathered the defenders. "We can't let midfield mistakes kill us. We hold our line better, we recover faster. No excuses."
The loss had shaken them, but no one was running away from responsibility.
The drills were relentless. Short, sharp passing exercises. Midfielders forced into high-pressure scenarios. Daisuke wanted them to think faster, move smarter.
"Elijah, less touches. One-two passes, keep it moving!"
"Marco, don't sit too deep—position yourself where you can receive and distribute."
"Fletcher, good press! But don't overcommit—time your tackles."
Fletcher's hunger was clear. He challenged every ball, his aggressive playstyle breaking up attacks. Marco, after a shaky start, found his rhythm, determined to redeem himself.
By the end of the session, players dropped onto the grass, exhausted but sharper.
Daisuke gathered them. "This is how we bounce back. We work. We adapt. We fight."
No one argued. They were ready.
As Blackhaven prepared for their next game, Daisuke faced his biggest decision—stick with the same XI or make changes?
Fletcher had earned a start. Elijah would drop to the bench. The rest would have one more chance to prove themselves.
The media buzzed about their struggles. Critics questioned their ability to survive the Championship.
Daisuke didn't care.
They would answer everything on the pitch.