Harbinger Of Glory

Like always, the Coverciano morning slipped by quietly.

Some players caught up on sleep, others wandered through the common room or out across the grounds, trying to make use of the unexpected free time before the afternoon session.

When training finally came around, the squad gathered in the dressing room and changed into the federation kit before heading out together.

There, the coaching staff were already waiting.

One by one, GPS vests were fitted beneath the players’ shirts.

The staff moved efficiently from player to player, checking the monitors before sending them onto the pitch.

The purpose of the session became obvious within minutes.

There were no tactical boards, no shape work and no rehearsed patterns of play.

It was fitness, and it was two relentless hours of it.

It started with running, acceleration drills, repeated sprints, and then moved on to recovery runs that barely felt like recovery.

The coaches drove every exercise while Spalletti remained nowhere to be seen.

By the time the whistle finally sounded, several players dropped where they were.

Leo lay flat on the grass, breathing steadily as he stared into the cloudless sky above Florence.

Around him, conversations came in short bursts between tired breaths.

Nobody seemed interested in getting up just yet.

A few moments later, footsteps crossed the pitch revealing the form of Spalletti.

He stopped in front of the scattered group, clasped his hands behind his back and looked around before speaking.

"Some of you," he said calmly, "are a little behind where I’d like you to be physically."

"We’ll fix that over the next few days while we prepare for Malta."

After that, his eyes swept across the group one last time.

"That’s all."

And with that, he turned and walked away.

Several players watched him go before exchanging amused looks.

"That’s it?" someone muttered as a few quiet laughs followed.

Before long, they all dispersed from the pitch.

Back in his room, Leo headed straight for the shower.

The hot water eased the stiffness in his legs, but it couldn’t quite do the same for his right wrist, which he’d sprained during the session a while ago.

By the time he had changed back into his tracksuit, it wasn’t painful, though he could still notice it.

He rolled it once before reaching for his phone, and when he called, Vittoria answered almost immediately.

"How are you feeling?"

She sighed.

"Better."

"Medication?"

"Yes, and before you say anything, yes, I’ve been drinking water."

"That’s good then," Leo muttered with a laugh.

"I’m still not one hundred per cent," she admitted, "but I’m better than yesterday."

"It’ll settle."

"I know."

"How was training?" she asked after a pause.

Leo leaned back against the headboard.

"The coaches spent two hours trying to discover everyone’s physical limit."

"And?"

"I think they found mine."

Vittoria laughed at that before a knock interrupted them.

Leo glanced toward the door and then turned back towards the phone.

"Seems I have company. I’ll call you later."

"Okay."

"Get some rest."

"I will."

After ending the call, Leo got to his feet and moved towards the door, which opened to reveal Carlo waiting outside.

"Lunch?"

Immediately, Leo grabbed his room key from the desk.

"Definitely," he muttered.

The duo, without wasting a second, made their way down the accommodation centre before eventually arriving at the dining area.

Training had left everyone hungry, and so there was almost little to no talk as the players settled down with their plates and then proceeded to wolf down the food, with some players even going for seconds.

Leo and Carlo found a table together, and just like they’d come to meet, the duo ate in silence, with one occasionally checking their phone when a ping was heard.

Eventually Carlo looked up, swallowing a morsel of the food in front of him before nodding towards the table.

"How’s the wrist?"

Leo glanced down at it.

"I’ll be fine."

"Really," Carlo said, not really believing it since the slip had really been nasty and Leo had also been slightly moving it all over the place as they ate.

Leo, though, as if to prove it, flexed it once.

"It tightened up a bit."

"But?"

"But it’ll be fine."

Carlo studied him for a second before nodding.

"Just get it checked out, bro. Even that coach said so!"

"I will," Leo said with a smile before focusing all his attention on finishing his food.

After the plates were cleared, the players slowly disappeared from the dining room as the afternoon drifted by after lunch.

With no second session planned, most of the squad disappeared back into their rooms.

Leo did the same after separating from Carlo.

He stretched out on the bed intending to rest for twenty minutes, but to his dismay or not, he woke nearly two hours later.

By that time, the sunset had shed its light across the room, casting long shadows through the window.

After washing his face, he crossed to the window and rested a hand against the frame.

There, he could see a few of the players having a kick about.

He contemplated joining them, but before he could, they seemed to stop as they chose to settle on the ground, possibly catching their breath.

"I should have brought my console," he muttered as he sighed and then leaned away from the window.

...

Aldo D’Averna lowered himself onto the sofa in the confines of his study and let out a long breath.

It had been one of those days, and he could feel it in his entire being.

"How do I get the most tired when I’m the head?" he muttered as he rubbed a hand over his face before glancing at his watch.

Before he could truly enjoy his peace, the study door opened.

"How was your day?" Sienna asked, and almost instantly, Aldo let out a dry laugh.

"Do you actually want the answer?"

Walking over with her heels clicking against the wood flooring, she thought about it for all of a second and then shook her head.

"...Not particularly."

Aldo laughed keenly as she walked over behind the sofa and rested both hands on his shoulders, her thumbs absentmindedly working away at the tension she’d found there.

"My hero," she murmured.

"I’m fairly certain I don’t look heroic."

"No."

She leaned down, kissed his forehead, then brushed another kiss across his lips.

"You look tired."

"I feel tired," he said, reached back, took her hand and gently tugged until she came around the sofa.

She sat beside him, tucking one leg underneath herself while he wrapped a hand around her form.

"How was your week away?" he asked.

"Why do you make it sound like I was on a holiday or something?" Sienna asked before she dismissed the question with a small wave before turning to face him.

"That’s not actually why I came in here."

"I assumed not."

"I was here to talk about the dinner we will be having with Vittoria and her boyfriend."

"We should probably decide how we’re going to handle it."