Bluelock x OC:The Oracle's game

Hikaru perspective:

The morning of the match began with a heavy silence, a strange juxtaposition to the excitement bubbling beneath the surface. For many of us, stepping onto the hallowed ground of Anfield was a dream come true. For others, it was a chance to silence doubters and prove our worth on one of football's grandest stages.

In the bus, the team dynamics played out as expected. Marco, Enrico, and Frances slept soundly in the back, seemingly unfazed by the enormity of the day. Luca, Shion, and Sandro formed a trio near the front, whispering furiously as they broke down tactical options, their voices an urgent undercurrent to the hum of the bus. Meanwhile, Ricci joined Bianchi and the other defenders to discuss countermeasures against Ryusei and Koji, two of Liverpool's deadliest threats.

Just as the bus neared the stadium, Coach clapped his hands sharply, jolting everyone into full attention.

"Alright, listen up! We're about to arrive, and here's the reality of what you're stepping into: English players. Cocky. Bold. They'll do everything they can to annoy you—use that. Use it as fuel to humble them. You hear me?"

"Yes, Coach!" we all responded, the air inside the bus now thick with intensity.

Coach's eyes swept across the group before settling on Shion. "Shion! You're going up against Koji, a player known for his shift-step mastery. He's quick, unpredictable, and crafty—maybe even more dangerous than Ryusei in one-on-one situations. He'll test you. If things seem impossible, give 110%. No excuses."

Shion nodded, his expression steeled. There was no bravado in his demeanor, just cold determination.

Anfield's towering stands loomed above us, the red seats a stark contrast against the grey skies. The air carried an electric charge, a mixture of history, anticipation, and the roars of fans slowly trickling into the stadium. As we walked through the players' tunnel, I couldn't help but steal a glance at the famous "This Is Anfield" sign above us.

"This is it, huh?" Enrico whispered beside me, his grin betraying his nerves.

"Yeah, no pressure," I replied with a smirk, though my heart pounded as loudly as his probably did.

We stepped onto the pitch for warm-ups, greeted by the faint murmurs of a growing crowd. Liverpool's U-20 team was already out, their players exuding a casual confidence. Among them, Ryusei stood out instantly—his signature swagger and piercing gaze felt like they were daring us to challenge him.

After warm-ups, both teams lined up at midfield for the customary handshake. As I approached Ryusei, the familiarity of his presence struck me.

"Been a while, Hikaru," he said, his voice calm but laced with challenge. "Show me how much you've improved since the last time we played."

I met his gaze with a small smile. "You got it, ace. Let's see if you can keep up."

He grinned, but there was no malice in it. Just a shared understanding that we were about to leave everything on the pitch.

The whistle blew, and the game was underway. Liverpool immediately took control of possession, their crisp passing and fluid movement making their intent clear—they wanted to dominate.

But we weren't here to be spectators.

The first significant moment came in the third minute. Bianchi intercepted a stray pass from Liverpool's midfield, his sharp instincts putting us on the front foot. But standing in his way was Zane, Liverpool's central attacking midfielder. His stance was perfect—arms out, knees bent, reading the play like a chess master.