---
"You're both starting next week."
Coach Sameer's voice echoed across the empty pitch after training.
Arjun looked up from tying his laces. Faizan stood a few feet away, water bottle frozen mid-air.
"We need both of you in midfield. Together."
Together.
It was a word neither of them had heard in the same sentence until now.
---
In the days leading up to the match, their interactions were cold but professional. No fights. No fire. But no trust either.
Arjun would pass. Faizan wouldn't call.
Faizan would dribble. Arjun wouldn't chase.
Two sparks in different corners of the same flame.
Aditya Menon noticed it during video review.
"Play the same jersey. Not the same ego," he muttered, tossing the tablet aside.
---
Match day arrived. Packed house. The decibel level rose with every second as the players lined up in the tunnel.
Arjun could hear the chants already — the way the fans were learning to pronounce his name with pride.
Faizan stood beside him, silent, bouncing slightly in place.
Arjun turned. "Let's not get in each other's way."
Faizan didn't reply right away. Then:
"Let's get in their heads instead."
They bumped fists — no warmth, just recognition.
---
The match began.
It was awkward.
Arjun drifted wide where Faizan wanted to press. Faizan cut inside when Arjun tried to dictate tempo.
Missteps. Missed passes. The coach was already on his feet shouting.
By the 15th minute, the crowd had grown tense.
Then came the spark.
Arjun intercepted a lazy pass near midfield, and without looking, flicked the ball behind his leg — blind.
It floated into space where no one else was — except Faizan, sprinting.
One touch. Two. A curling shot into the far bottom corner.
Goal.
The crowd erupted.
Arjun didn't run to him. Faizan didn't point back. But their eyes met.
A moment of shared electricity.
---
The chemistry ignited.
Pass after pass. Quick transitions. Covering for each other's runs. Two minds starting to speak the same tactical language.
By halftime, they were being called "Kerala's New Midfield Engine" by commentators on live stream.
In the 68th minute, Faizan returned the favor — a brilliant lobbed ball over the defense that Arjun brought down with his chest and smashed into the net.
2–0.
This time, they celebrated.
Not dramatically. Just a nod, a bump of shoulders, and a tiny grin on Faizan's face.
> "We might just work," Arjun thought.
"We might just change everything."
---
After the match, reporters swarmed both of them.
"Arjun! Is this the beginning of a partnership?"
"Faizan! Any rivalry left between you two?"
They didn't answer directly. But when they walked out of the tunnel, they walked side by side.
---
At the hostel that night, Arjun opened his phone to find a single message from Kalyani:
> "You two look dangerous together."
He smiled.
She saw it too.
---
Faizan sat in his room, watching highlights on loop.
Arjun's flick. His goal. Their pass combinations.
He exhaled deeply.
He hated how much he respected Arjun now.
But more than that, he hated how much he wanted to beat him.
Still, something in his chest softened.
For the first time, he didn't want Arjun to fail.
He wanted them both to rise — together.
---
In the team meeting the next morning, Coach Sameer played the video of their goal connection.
"Fire and ice," he said, pausing the frame on their celebration.
"You don't have to be best friends. But on the pitch, you are brothers now. Play like it."
---