Bluelock x OC:The Oracle's game

Hikaru perspective:

As the game resumed, the tension on the pitch was palpable. The scoreline read 2-1 in our favor, but Liverpool was riding a wave of momentum. Their attacks were relentless, their confidence growing with every completed pass and successful challenge. The crowd fed into their energy, roaring with every Liverpool break.

I stood in the center of the pitch, hands on my knees, catching my breath. Ivan, ever the provocateur, strolled past me.

"How's it feeling, kid? Starting to realize you can't keep up?" he sneered, his smirk wide and condescending.

I straightened up, refusing to show weakness. "You're talking a lot for someone who's losing, Ivan."

His smirk faded for just a moment, but then he chuckled. "We'll see who's losing soon enough."

The ball was in Liverpool's possession again, their midfield trio—Zane, Mateo, and Ivan—dominating the center of the park. Zane, their orchestrator, received a short pass from Mateo and turned sharply, eyes scanning the field.

"Mark the runs! Watch Ryusei!" Luka barked, his voice carrying across the pitch.

But Zane's vision was incredible. With a perfectly weighted pass, he bypassed both Luka and Sandro, finding Koji on the right wing.

"Stay on him, Shion! Don't give him space!" I shouted, sprinting back to help.

Koji's footwork was mesmerizing. He danced over the ball, his shift-step technique drawing Shion one way before cutting the other. Shion tried to recover, lunging to block Koji's cross, but it was too late. The ball curled beautifully into the box, aimed directly at Ryusei.

Ryusei leapt into the air, his timing impeccable, but Raito was there to challenge him. The clash was brutal, both players colliding mid-air. The ball ricocheted off Ryusei's shoulder and dropped to Mateo at the edge of the box.

"Clear it!" Ricci screamed, scrambling to reposition himself.

Mateo wound up for a shot, his technique flawless. The ball was struck with venom, heading straight for the bottom corner.

Ricci dove at full stretch, his gloves grazing the ball just enough to deflect it onto the post. The rebound fell dangerously into the six-yard box, but Sandro reacted first, booting it out of play.

The stadium was electric, the Liverpool fans roaring in anticipation of an equalizer. Our team regrouped quickly, Ricci clapping his gloves to get our attention.

"Stay sharp, boys! They're not getting another one past me!" he shouted, his voice brimming with defiance.

Luka jogged over to me, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"Karu, you okay? You're looking winded."

I nodded, though my lungs burned and my legs felt heavy. "I'm fine. Just need to keep moving."

He gave me a knowing look but didn't press further. "Alright. Let's get this ball and turn the tide. They're pushing too hard. We'll catch them on the break."

Liverpool took their throw-in quickly, keeping the pressure on. Hiroshi received the ball and immediately sent it back to Zane, who was lurking just outside our box. Luka and Enrico closed him down, but Zane pulled off a clever roulette, spinning between them and driving toward goal.

"Not so fast!" Bianchi growled, stepping in with a crunching tackle that sent Zane tumbling to the ground.

The referee's whistle blew sharply, and a collective groan erupted from our side.