A long run, a classic pendulum dribble that sat the keeper down, and a calm side-foot into the empty net finished Japan off.
Ninety-seventh minute, 4-0.
Ten minutes of stoppage at most.
To go through they needed four more against this Brazil.
Trying a last stand against a side led by Kaká, with Ronaldinho and Adriano behind him, was about as easy as swimming the Pacific with no clothes on.
Four up and the result gone.
Parreira’s old face split into a grin.
The second the celebration ended he waved Juninho and Edu on for Kaká and Ronaldinho.
Zico had already accepted it.
No more changes.
Japan walked back to the centre circle looking empty.
The Confederations Cup was a World Cup rehearsal more than a final.
Nakata and the rest were disappointed.
They were not broken.
Asian Cup winners already had next year’s World Cup.
This trip was for sharpening the side.
They had not come here thinking they would beat Brazil, not with Kaká in this form.
They had been ready to lose.
They had not been ready for a gap this wide.
Almost no punch back.
Just a beating from first whistle to last.
Kaká and Ronaldinho came off, waved, clapped the stands, then dropped onto the bench and stared at nothing.
The rest of the game produced nothing.
Adriano still tore forward looking for more until Japan, out of their heads, chopped him twice.
The heat left him fast.
Beep.
Beep.
Beeeeeeep.
Ten minutes gone.
The referee killed it.
Group B closed.
Brazil 4-0 Japan.
Top of the group.
In the original history, with Ronaldo missing and Kaká and Ronaldinho flat in the group, this game finished 2-2.
Brazil had already gone over against Mexico 0-1.
They squeezed through on goal difference and Parreira nearly sweated himself inside out.
Japan, who went out on difference to Brazil in that timeline, packed their bags here too, this time behind Mexico.
Mexico and Brazil went through together.
Group A: hosts Germany and Argentina both two wins and a draw.
Both through.
Group stage done.
Brazil, Mexico, Germany, Argentina in the last four.
First semi on 26 June at the Frankenstadion in Nuremberg.
Brazil against Germany.
Mexico and Argentina the next day, 27 June, AWD-Arena in Hanover.
Kaká rinsed off in the dressing room and the squad left straight for Nuremberg.
Short rest, keep the edge, wait two days.
The second the Japan game ended, Brazil and Kaká owned every front page.
“Brazil 4-0 Japan.
Kaká two goals, two assists, all four goals run through him!”
“Brazil’s brightest star: Ricardo!”
“Handsome and lethal!”
“Parreira: our best player.”
“Ronaldinho: I love playing with Kaká.
Winning is this simple.”
The world’s press piled in.
Every football cover was that face.
Then a blogger’s post went everywhere.
“How do we redefine Confederations Cup group-stage Kaká?”
At first it sounded odd.
Was he good?
He was ridiculous.
“Redefine” still made people scratch their heads.
Then they read the numbers and the clips and looked at the three games again.
It felt like something dropped from the sky.
“Three group games: eight goals, three assists.
Hat-tricks in two, a brace in the other.
Every Brazil goal in the group ran through Kaká.”
“Has anyone watched the change in how he plays?”
“Everyone knows Kaká for the surge and the shot from range.
The standing escape and the tight dribbling were always decent.
They were never Ronaldinho-sharp.”
“His game always needed a runway.
Vertical space.”
“Anyone who sat through these three matches saw something else.
Over and over he beat men in a phone box.”
“Especially in the first half against Mexico.
Fourteen dribbles attempted.
Fourteen came off.
One hundred percent.
What kind of number is that?”
“Put it next to last season and even the Champions League nights and the fact is obvious.”
“Kaká has got stronger.
He has evolved.”
“Football is about to meet a king who scores for fun and has elite physical tools.
I do not want to think about what Serie A centre-backs will look like next season.”
“Also… is Kaká still an attacking midfielder?”
The blogger was clearly a Kaká lifer.
Alongside the group-stage tape he dropped GIFs and numbers from last season and the one before.
Side by side, the change jumped out.
Fans were not stupid.
They understood the game.
Kaká had just been too loud.
A stoppage-time winner in the Champions League final and he was King of Europe.
A month later he was flattening the Confederations Cup.
The noise was so high people only shouted “insane” and missed what had actually changed in his feet.
Then they read the breakdown and remembered the month he vanished after Istanbul.
The picture filled in: a genius who still worked after the trophy, shut out the cameras, stayed on the grass, and turned up at this tournament with a new weapon.
Nobody asked if you can learn that dribbling in a month.
Fans did not care.
The press did not care.
They only knew he was a genius.
A hard-working genius.
A hard-working handsome genius.
Then the last line again.
Is Kaká still an attacking midfielder?
An attacking midfielder who scores more than a striker?
The group stage heat was unlike anything they had seen.
Ronaldo was missing, so the people who used to follow Brazil for him drifted to Kaká.
The world’s media would not shut up.
On name value alone he was suddenly standing next to Ronaldinho in the squad.
For two days, agent Gaetano Paolillo’s phone did not stop.
Sponsors, endorsements, appearances.
Even his father Bosco Leite’s mobile never rested.
Dinner after dinner.
Kaká dumped the commercial pile on his father and Gaetano and drew a few red lines.
No food brands.
No health supplements.
Nothing political.
Especially no underwear.
The rest was theirs.
With Bosco watching he was not going to get robbed.
His own energy went into the body.
The Confederations Cup calendar was brutal.
Two days between games.
The system’s full-body work had rebuilt him, but recovery still mattered.
He was not going to treat a seasonal rebuild like a license to burn himself out.
That was not the old Kaká and it was not this one either.
The system still paid well.
Three group games, goals and assists.
A harvest.
[Host scored three goals this match, points +3]
[Host completed a hat-trick, points +1]
This was the goal point reward against Mexico!
…
[Host scored two goals this match, points +2]
[Host delivered two assists this match, points +2]
This was the point reward against the Japan National Football Team.
Add the Champions League final goal and the Greece night and the balance sat at 15.
Thirty-five short of another full-body session or a specialised boost.
If the rest of the tournament went clean, Brazil still had two games.
“Get it to 20.”
He clenched a fist.
He wanted those extra boosts.
The two monsters of the era were already leaving the runway.
Cristiano had his place at United.
People still called him flashy and empty, but the jump to super striker was close.
Messi’s club story had only just started.
If Kaká’s memory was right, in a few days the kid would drag Argentina to the U-20 World Cup title, take the Golden Ball and the Golden Boot, and start the walk toward the throne.
If he was going to live with those two for years, the current version did not feel safe enough.