For a moment, Hiro couldn't help but loosen his shoulder, and without even realizing it, a soft smile escaped his lips.
Diego caught his eye then and gave a small nod.
"Hiro. A word."
The chatter dimmed a little as Diego crossed the room and sat down on the bench beside him. He didn't speak at once. He picked up one of the discarded cleats from the floor, turned it over in his hands, and examined the studs as though they were of great interest.
"I watched you pass backward for thirty minutes tonight," he said at last, "and I wanted to scream."
Hiro said nothing.
"Then you stopped thinking for three seconds, and you almost won us the match." Diego set the boot down. "Tell me what you want to do in the second half."
Hiro frowned. "Find the gap."
"No." Diego shook his head gently. "You can't find a gap against a team like that. They have studied you for a month. Every time you look for one, they have already closed it. The gaps are not found, Hiro. They are asked for."
