The Kochi rain had finally passed, leaving behind a thin veil of humidity and sun-streaked clouds that hung like theatre lights over the Jawaharlal Nehru Stadium. The smell of soaked concrete, mud, and anticipation lingered in the air.
Kerala Blasters had made it to the Round of 16 of the AFC Champions League.
But this wasn't a one-shot. It was two legs. Home and away.
The war would be fought on both fronts.
Tonight, the first battle was theirs to host.
Inside the Blasters' training room, Coach Sameer stood beside the whiteboard, tapping out patterns with a dry-erase marker like a composer marking a score. The room was silent except for the squeak of the marker.
"Al Nassr plays like a machine. Structured, aggressive, unforgiving in transition."
He paused. Then glanced at the projection showing footage of Otávio slicing into a Japanese club's backline.
"Every time they break lines, it's surgical. If we give them space, they'll tear us."
He looked at Arjun. "Control the tempo. You're the metronome tonight."
Then his gaze swept across the others.
"First leg is at home. That's our advantage. This stadium — this noise — is our fortress. Protect it."
Faizan, arms crossed, nodded. "We don't just play the ball. We make them feel like they're not welcome here."
Coach Sameer cracked a smile. "Exactly."
---
✦ The Buzz Outside
From the balcony of a small hotel near Kaloor metro station, Rainer Graf watched fans flood the streets hours before kickoff. Yellow flags everywhere. Chenda drums, chants, motorbikes painted in Blasters colors.
He turned on his phone. On the AFC Champions League app, the preview read:
> Kerala Blasters vs Al Nassr – Round of 16 (First Leg)
Live from Kochi
He looked down at his notes.
Arjun Dev — CM — Age 21 — Passing intelligence. Spatial awareness. Heavy legs but quick mind.
Note: Natural leader. Re-watch minute 62 vs Ulsan.
He didn't need to watch again.
What he needed to know would happen tonight.
---
✦ At Home
In Thrissur, Arjun's mother watched TV coverage from their living room. A news reporter stood in front of the stadium entrance, trying to speak over the crowd noise.
She turned the volume up.
She wasn't interested in the stats. She was listening for something else — the emotion in the voices.
The pride in the chants.
She folded her hands.
"Let him march well," she whispered.
---
✦ Set Lights, Camera, Pause
Far away in Chennai, Kalyani was halfway through a film shoot. A fantasy epic. Costumes, CGI placeholders, and imaginary sword fights.
But in between takes, she was glued to a muted tablet screen showing the stadium.
Arjun was on the pitch for warmups.
He did his stretches alone, then smiled when a young ball boy nervously waved. He waved back.
Kalyani's heart ached, not dramatically — just enough to remind her this wasn't just any footballer.
He was her Arjun. The boy who remembered his roots, even under lights.
Her assistant offered a coffee.
She didn't take it. She whispered to herself instead.
> "March strong, elephant."
---
✦ The Game Begins
When the teams walked out of the tunnel, the atmosphere cracked like lightning.
More than 40,000 people sang, shouted, prayed. A giant tifo of a crowned elephant unfurled over the West Stand.
> "The March Continues."
Arjun looked up at it and felt his chest tighten.
Not with fear.
But with responsibility.
---
✦ Minute 7
A long ball from Al Nassr. Cut inside. Otávio tried to find Ronaldo in the box. Cleared by Rahul KP.
The crowd roared.
But it was only the beginning.
---
✦ Minute 31
Faizan danced past two defenders on the flank. Cut back to Arjun at the edge of the box.
Touch. Curling shot.
Saved. Just barely.
The East Stand gasped.
---
✦ Minute 45+1
A free kick for Al Nassr.
Ronaldo stood over it.
Whistle.
Strike.
Crossbar.
The stadium exhaled.
---
✦ Halftime
1–1.
A penalty had been awarded to Al Nassr after a questionable VAR check. Converted coolly.
But just before halftime, Arjun had intercepted a misplaced pass and slipped in Sahal Abdul Samad, who calmly slotted it past the keeper.
Kerala Blasters were holding their own.
---
✦ In the Tunnel
Arjun leaned against the concrete wall, towel around his neck. Faizan was beside him.
"You good?" Faizan asked.
"Yeah. You?"
Faizan pointed to his right leg. "Cramping already."
Arjun chuckled. "You're too dramatic."
Faizan smiled. "You're too calm."
Before walking out, Coach Sameer gathered them.
"They expected us to crack by now. You've shown them who you are. Now go show them what Kerala means."
Arjun turned to his teammates.
"Let's make this the loudest silence they've ever heard."
---
✦ Final Whistle
1–1.
Not a win. But not a loss.
As Arjun left the pitch, the fans began singing again:
> "Oru paadam, oru veeran…"
"Marannilla njangale…"
The second leg in Riyadh awaited.
And it would not be gentle.
---