First Match(Part 1)

The players sit tensely, awaiting his next words. But before he can begin all of the ranks were updated.

The numbers on each player's arm have drop significantly compared to two days ago. Murmurs ripple through the room as the players realize the cause: all the other players eliminated during tag game . The eliminations have pushed the remaining players higher up in the rankings.

For a moment, there's a flicker of satisfaction among the players. Higher ranks mean they've moved closer to their ultimate goal—or so they think.

Ego's voice cuts through their thoughts:

"Don't fool yourselves into believing these new ranks mean anything. Your numbers went up only because others failed before you. Their loss is not your victory. Rankings are meaningless unless you prove your worth on the field."

The room falls silent as Ego's words sink in. He continues without pause.

"In 12 hours, your journey truly begins. Team V will face Team Z in your first match."

As soon as Ego disappears from the screen, a timer flashes: 12 hours remaining.

The players sit in tense silence before the room erupts into chaos.

"We need to figure out our formation!" one player shouts.

"And who's going to be the striker?" another adds.

"We're all strikers! I'm the best here—I should take the lead!" someone snaps back.

Voices clash as every player tries to stake their claim. Each of them knows the stakes—only the top goal-scorer among the losing teams will survive, and everyone wants that chance.

Shiro, however, remains quiet. As the arguments escalate, he stands up and walks toward the door without a word.

"Hey! Where do you think you're going?" one player yells, frustration evident in their voice.

Shiro doesn't respond, nor does he look back. The other players glare at his retreating figure.

"Unbelievable. He's acting like he's too good for this!"

"Forget him! We'll make the plan without him."

The remaining players return to their heated discussion, each one determined to be the star of the match.

Meanwhile, Shiro steps out onto the training field, where the cool air clears his mind. For him, the bickering and rankings don't matter. What counts is what happens on the field. As he lines up his first shot, the sound of the ball striking the net echoes in the empty night.

Shiro is ready to let his performance do the talking.

Kurona Pov:

Kurona watched silently as Shiro left the room, his calm demeanor in stark contrast to the chaos surrounding them. The arguments were growing louder, each player desperate to prove themselves. It was clear that if this continued, they would waste precious time fighting rather than preparing.

Kurona stepped forward, his voice calm but commanding as he addressed the team. "I propose we play in a 4-2-3-1 formation. It's balanced and versatile. The four defenders will provide stability at the back, the two holding midfielders will support both defense and attack, and the two wingers and the attacking midfielder will apply constant pressure while feeding the striker up front."

The room fell silent as the players took in his words. One player raised a hand, uncertainty still in the air. "That sounds fine, but how do we assign positions? We're all strikers here. Who's going to fill these roles?"

Kurona nodded, expecting the question. "Here's how we'll assign positions based on our individual strengths:

"The two wingers and the left-back will be the fourth quickest players after Shiro. Speed is essential for both attacking down the flanks and defending from the front.

"The two physically strongest players, after Shiro, will be our central defenders. They'll need to be tough in aerial duels and stop any counter-attacks."

"The two players with the best stamina after Shiro will play as our holding midfielders. They'll be the ones who cover the most ground, both defending and supporting the attack."

Kurona paused, making sure everyone was following. He then looked around before continuing, "As for the playmaker, I think I'm the only one here who can take on that role. I've seen how everyone here plays. You're all strikers—you want the ball to yourself, you want to score. I'm willing to put my ego aside and pass the ball around when needed. That's what a playmaker does."

The players exchanged looks, some still skeptical, but Kurona didn't back down. "I'll focus on setting up the plays and getting the ball to the one who's in the best position to score. That's what the team needs."

He then turned to the final point, his voice firm. "And for the striker, I'm choosing Shiro. I know not everyone likes him, but let's face facts. He was the best in all our physical training. He's fast, he's strong, and he's got precision. If we want to win, we need the best person leading our attack. That's Shiro."

A silence filled the room as the players processed Kurona's words. While some were reluctant to accept the idea of Shiro as the striker, they couldn't deny the logic behind the decision. Kurona's reasoning, clear and rational, was starting to break through their doubts.

Kurona looked around at the group, his expression unwavering. "This is about survival, not ego. If we don't play to our strengths and work together, we'll lose, and all of us will be out of Blue Lock. So, let's put aside our personal grudges and focus on winning."

Slowly, the team began to nod in agreement. While the tension was still there, Kurona's leadership had provided a clear path forward. The plan was set—now it was time to execute it.

After the plan was decided, Kurona felt the need to speak to Shiro directly. Kurona made his way to the training field, where he found Shiro practicing alone, just as he expected.

Shiro was standing near the wide-open goal, taking a few warm-up shots. The ball flew past him, cutting through the air with precision. Kurona approached, and Shiro noticed him almost immediately.

"We need to talk," Kurona said, his voice steady but serious.

Shiro didn't stop shooting, but he nodded, acknowledging Kurona's presence. "About the plan?"

"Yeah," Kurona replied. "I've decided who will play where. I told the team we're going with the 4-2-3-1 formation. I'll be the playmaker, you'll be the striker. We're going to make this work."

Shiro stopped for a moment, turning to face Kurona. A slight smirk appeared on his face, but it wasn't one of arrogance. "You think they'll listen to that plan?"

Kurona raised an eyebrow, surprised by the question. "What do you mean?"

Shiro took a deep breath, his eyes narrowing as he looked out at the other players who were still on the sidelines, talking amongst themselves. "You really think those guys will follow the plan tomorrow? Their egos are too big. They won't be able to put them aside."

Kurona frowned, now understanding what Shiro was saying. "So you think they're going to try to do their own thing? Steal the ball, try to score on their own?"

Shiro nodded, a knowing look in his eyes. "Exactly. They'll want to be the one to score. They'll try to be the hero, even if it means messing up the team's rhythm. And that's where we have to step in."

Kurona's mind started to race, processing what Shiro was getting at. The other players were more concerned with their own glory than the team's success. But Shiro's attitude was different. He didn't care about being the hero. He wanted to win, and that's what Kurona needed to focus on.

"We'll show them," Kurona said, his voice firm with resolve. "We'll show them who's truly the strongest here. We won't let their egos ruin this. We'll make them see that working together is the only way forward."

Shiro gave a small, approving nod. "I like the sound of that. If they want to be the strongest, they'll have to follow our lead."

Kurona smiled, his confidence growing. "Tomorrow, we'll prove it. We'll show them what a real team looks like."

With that, Kurona turned to leave, but before he did, he looked back at Shiro one last time. "Rest up. Tomorrow, it's game time."

Shiro didn't respond, but there was a quiet determination in his eyes that told Kurona all he needed to know. The team might not be ready yet, but with Shiro on their side, they would become something more than just individuals—they would become a force to be reckoned.

11 hours Later

Here's the revised version with Kurona and Shiro exchanging only a glance:

---

The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension. With only one hour remaining before their first match, Team V sat in silence, each player lost in their own thoughts, trying to mentally prepare. The sound of deep breaths was the only thing that filled the otherwise quiet room.

Then, without warning, the screen flickered to life. Ego's face appeared once again, his expression as unreadable as ever. His voice, cold and calculated, filled the room.

"You have one hour," Ego's voice echoed, commanding their attention. "One hour before the match begins. If you want to win, forget everything you think you know about football. Forget the strategies, and all the training you've received up until now."

The players exchanged confused glances, but Ego continued, unwavering.

"Right now, you are not football players. You are nothing. To win, you need to restart from zero. To turn zero into one is the only way forward.

The room fell silent as Ego's words sank in. No one spoke. No one moved.

"What do you mean, 'zero into one'?" one player asked, his voice tentative.

Ego's eyes flickered to the screen as he responded, his tone as enigmatic as ever. "I will not explain it to you. But let me tell you this—football is not about tactics. It's about something far more fundamental. Forget all the noise. You need to return to the basics. What is football truly about?"

The players were still, trying to process Ego's cryptic words. There was a palpable sense of confusion in the air.

"You're starting with zero," Ego continued. "That means you will return to the core of football. The essence of the game. You must understand that before you can move forward. To win the match, to succeed in this program, you have to figure out what football really means."

Ego's face disappeared from the screen, leaving only silence in his wake. The team sat still for a few moments, digesting what he had said. There were no clear answers, only questions.

One hour later, Team V stood in front of the playing field, their minds sharpened and ready for the match. The atmosphere was tense, the weight of the moment settling on each player's shoulders. In front of them, Team Z stood waiting, wearing white vests over their uniforms. Each vest was emblazoned with a number, clearly marking their positions.

The most noticeable figure in Team Z, however, was a player who stood confidently in the middle. His posture was assured, his eyes focused and calculating. Nishioka, known as the "Messi of Aomori," stood with a quiet confidence that immediately caught the attention of everyone in Team V. His agility and skill were well-known, and he exuded a presence that would make him a formidable opponent.

In contrast, Team V wore red vests over their uniforms, a stark difference from Team Z's white.

As both teams stood facing each other, the tension grew. Each player knew that the battle wasn't just about football—it was about proving themselves, about stepping up and playing beyond their own egos.

"Let's show them what we're made of," Kurona muttered under his breath, his eyes locked on Nishioka

The whistle blew, and the match began. Team V started with the ball at their feet. Shiro, positioned as the striker, did the first pass and quickly pass the ball to Kurona. Kurona, playing a more central role, then passed it to the winger, expecting the ball to be quickly redistributed.

However, instead of passing it back, the winger hesitated. He looked up at the field, assessing his options, then made the decision to go solo. He began dribbling, trying to navigate past the defenders, seemingly focused on making an individual play.

Kurona, watching in disbelief, shouted, "Pass it! We're supposed to move the ball, not hold onto it!" But the winger continued his dribble, ignoring Kurona's plea, determined to make something happen on his own.

As the winger moved forward, frustration began to build across the rest of the team V. One by one, the other players—most of them eager to prove themselves—started attempting to steal the ball, desperate to get a shot on goal for themselves. Their egos were overwhelming their sense of teamwork.

Shiro, observing from his position at the top of the formation, sighed. His earlier prediction was coming true—the other players were too caught up in their own desires to play as a unit. Instead of focusing on teamwork, they were all trying to score individually.

He shook his head, turning to Kurona who was standing near him on the sideline. "Let them do what they want in the first half," Shiro said, his voice calm yet firm. "We'll take over in the second. This isn't how it's supposed to be played."

Kurona glanced at the field, watching the chaotic, egotistical play unfold. He understood. "You're right. Let them tire themselves out. In the second half, we'll show them how to play as a team."

Shiro looked back at the field, his gaze unwavering. "We'll turn this around. When we get in, we'll play for real."

The two of them stood silently on the sideline, watching as their teammates struggled with their own egos, unable to function as a cohesive unit. They knew that in the second half, it would be their time to take control, play with precision, and show the others what true teamwork looked like.

As Team V's disjointed play continued, the winger from Team V, still stubbornly holding onto the ball, was easily dispossessed by Nishioka, the "Messi of Aomori." With lightning speed, Nishioka snatched the ball and immediately began a solo run down the field. His agility was unmatched as he dribbled past each defender, weaving through Team V's scattered defense.

Shiro and Kurona watched from the sideline, their frustrations growing as Nishioka displayed his brilliance. Despite the efforts of Team V's defenders to stop him, Nishioka smoothly dodged every challenge, leaving them in his wake. With a final burst of speed, he slid the ball into the net, scoring effortlessly.

Team Z had taken the lead, and the score was now 1-0.

Shiro's face remained calm, though internally, he was seething with the reality of what was happening. "This is why we have to play as a team," he muttered to himself. But his focus remained sharp; it was clear that this match was not going to be an easy one.

The first half continued with Team Z clearly taking control. Nishioka's confidence seemed to boost his teammates, and soon, Team Z scored again—then again. By the time the whistle blew for halftime, the score stood at 4-0, with Team Z holding a commanding lead.

Shiro looked over at Kurona, his eyes steely with resolve. "Let them enjoy their lead. We'll take over in the second half," he said quietly.

Kurona nodded, not needing to say anything. The first half had been a painful lesson in the consequences of ego-driven play. But now, Shiro and Kurona knew the time was coming to show the team how to truly play as one.

The players of Team V slowly made their way back to the locker room, heads down, their morale crushed. The defeat weighed heavily on them, and there was an undeniable sense of frustration in the air.

But just as Shiro and Kurona were walking towards the locker room, they were intercepted by Nishioka, who was waiting for them with a smug look on his face. His eyes gleamed with the same confidence that had carried Team Z to their dominant first-half lead.

"Weren't you the one who said at the start, during your little speech, that you were better than everyone here and didn't want to babysit any of us?" Nishioka said, his voice dripping with mockery. "It seems like the only child here is you."

Shiro didn't respond immediately. He just stared at Nishioka, his face unreadable. The tension in the air was palpable, but instead of engaging, Shiro calmly put his arm around Kurona's shoulder, his expression turning into a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Let's get into the locker room and talk with our teammates," Shiro said, his tone surprisingly light, but the fire of anger behind his eyes was unmistakable. His smile was a mask, hiding the storm brewing beneath the surface.

Kurona, sensing the shift in Shiro's mood, remained quiet, following his lead as they made their way into the locker room.

Inside, the atmosphere was chaotic. The players were in disarray, pointing fingers at each other, blaming one another for the embarrassing 4-0 deficit. Complaints filled the room, each player criticizing the next for their mistakes, but no one seemed willing to take responsibility.

A few players turned their gaze toward Shiro and Kurona as they entered. One of them, frustrated by the lack of involvement from both players in the first half, spoke up. "What the hell, Shiro? You and Kurona weren't even playing. You just stood there while we got our asses handed to us!"

The words hit like a slap to the face, and Shiro's smile faltered for just a moment. The anger within him flared, his eyes narrowing. He could feel the heat rising in his chest, but he controlled it—barely.

Kurona stepped forward, sensing that the tension was about to boil over. "We're here to talk, not to point fingers," he said, trying to maintain the peace.

But Shiro, not wanting to let the accusation slide, finally spoke up. His voice was calm, but it carried the weight of someone who had been pushed to the edge. "You want to blame us for not playing? Fine. But if you really want to understand why we didn't step in, look at yourselves. You're playing for yourselves, not as a team."

The room fell silent for a moment, but the anger in Shiro's voice was clear. His grip on the situation was tight, but it was clear he was losing patience.

"You're not thinking about the bigger picture," Shiro continued, his eyes flashing with intensity. "If you want to keep playing like this, then we're all going to lose. But if you want to win, we need to act as a team, not a bunch of individuals chasing glory for ourselves."

His words hung in the air, and the room stayed quiet, the players now realizing the weight of their mistakes. But the blame game continued, and Shiro could see it: they were still not ready to listen.

As the arguments and finger-pointing continued inside the locker room, Shiro could feel his frustration building. He knew this wouldn't help them win the game. The team was falling apart, and none of the players seemed to understand the bigger picture. Without a word, Shiro turned to Kurona, grabbed his arm, and led him out of the locker room.

They stepped into the quiet corridor, away from the noise inside. Shiro leaned against the wall, his expression a mixture of anger and determination. He let out a breath, trying to focus.

"We'll have to do it ourselves," Shiro said, his voice low but sharp. "Seems like those useless fools can't be counted on. We'll win this match on our own."

Kurona didn't immediately respond. He stood there for a moment, thinking carefully, before speaking up. "I can't promise you that," he said honestly. "I know by myself I won't be able to handle an entire team. I'm willing to put my ego aside to help you, but do you really think we can take them down like this?"

Shiro's face softened for a second before his usual confident smirk returned. His ego seemed to flare as he looked at Kurona, his eyes gleaming with certainty.

"Are you questioning my ability?" Shiro asked, the challenge clear in his tone. "I like challenges. We'll take control in the second half, and we'll show them what we're capable of."

Kurona paused, his doubts still lingering. "But it's not just about the team, though. There's one player we need to worry about—Nishioka, The Messi of Aomori."

Shiro's grin widened, his confidence unwavering. "Nishioka is the only real threat on Team Z. But he won't be a problem for us. We'll stop him. Together."

Kurona nodded slowly, the fire of Shiro's confidence starting to ignite his own determination. "Right. If we shut him down, the rest of Team Z won't matter."

Shiro's eyes burned with an intense focus. "Exactly. Let's take control and show them what real players look like."

They stood there for a moment, the weight of their decision settling in. It was clear that they were ready to take this match into their own hands, no matter what their teammates thought.

"Let's get back out there," Shiro said, his smirk never fading. "It's time to show them who's in charge."