Bluelock x OC:The Oracle's game

Third person perspective:

The whistle blew. The tension that had been thick throughout the match melted away in an instant as the referee declared the final score. It was official. Hikaru and his team were going to nationals. The atmosphere around the field was electric, even though it wasn't the championship yet—it was merely the first step in a long journey to the top.

Sixty-four teams would be going national. Among them was Honed—a team with one player that had drawn everyone's attention: Kira. He wasn't some miracle worker; he didn't have the flair of players like Hikaru or Karasu. But Kira was an athletic machine. He had speed, physical strength, and could dominate the ball at will. Still, there was something about him that didn't sit right with Hikaru. He was a player bred to follow Japan's strict football philosophy, not to think outside the box. To Hikaru, Kira seemed like a puppet—an unremarkable product of a structured, monotonous system.

"Trash." The word echoed in Hikaru's mind as he narrowed his eyes, watching Kira celebrate with his team. He wasn't envious, just... skeptical. He believed in the unpredictable, the unique players that could bend the rules. The ones who could make magic happen. But Kira didn't seem to have that—just a rigid adherence to a formulaic approach. It wasn't his style. Hikaru couldn't help but think that this was the kind of football that held Japan back.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Hikaru was pulled back into reality by the sharp shout of his teammate, Kenji.

"Hikaru! Let's go!"

"Right, right," Hikaru muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair. He stood up from where he had been lost in his thoughts and jogged over to his teammate, who was grinning ear to ear.

It had been a couple of days since the national qualification match, and while most of the team was still riding high on the adrenaline, there was a sense of calm that had settled in for the break. The reality of the upcoming challenges was just beginning to sink in. The time for celebration was over. The journey to nationals was about to begin, and every match would get harder from here on out.

Hikaru received a text message from Karasu that morning. It was a short message, but the implications were huge: a letter from the Japan Football Union (JFU), the very institution that had produced many of Japan's best football players. It was every aspiring footballer's dream to receive such a letter.

He was still digesting the meaning when his phone rang. It was Karasu calling.

"You saw it, huh?" Karasu's voice crackled through the phone, that trademark cocky smirk audible in his tone.

"Yeah, just saw it. What is this Blue Lock thing, though? Is it like a new project for kids or something?" Hikaru asked, curiosity piqued.

"It's a program," Karasu explained, his voice dropping slightly, "a program designed to create the perfect striker—a training facility for the most elite talents across Japan. They scout the best of the best. It's not just any program. It's the program. They select you based on potential to become the next big thing, and they don't care about the politics or your reputation."

Hikaru snorted "Sounds a bit extreme, don't you think?"

"I'm not saying it's for everyone, but hey, it's an opportunity, right?" Karasu's voice was lighter now, as if he was already visualizing the idea of moving on from their high school team. "I might go. It's a chance to see where I can really go with my game. I'm all in."

Hikaru was quiet for a moment, considering the options. A big part of him felt attached to the team. He had spent so much time with these guys, especially Karasu, that the idea of separating seemed... wrong. But Karasu was right—this was an opportunity too big to ignore. After a pause, Hikaru spoke again, his voice calm.