Hale End (3)
A finger beckoned. Come here. Come here.
"Bukayo. He's gesturing at you, right?"
Saka gave an awkward smile at the looks his teammates were throwing him. There was no mistaking it; the kid was pointing right at him.
Saka locked eyes with the boy staring at him. Blonde hair, a strikingly handsome face that clearly showed his mixed Eastern and Western heritage, standing at 182 centimeters with a solid, athletic build.
He'll be popular as hell once he debuts.
Looking at the kid's face made him think of Beckham, the superstar from their rivals Manchester United. But what caught his eye even more than his looks was the sharply defined thigh muscles visible beneath his shorts.
Those thighs, which had just unleashed a shot that sounded like the cannon on Arsenal's crest, were something any football player would envy.
But that was it. Football wasn't played with looks or muscles.
Luka, the guest player, was a total ball hog. Playing as a striker, he had demanded every ball, mixed in some flashy dribbling, and scored three goals in just eight minutes. Yet, Saka found the entire display meaningless.
Scoring two or three goals in a mini-game against players of this level was something even he could do easily.
Besides, it was the duty of the seniors who had learned the game first to teach these young kids what real football was about.
On top of that, watching the kid arrogantly beckon him with a finger made Saka's competitive fire boil. Even though Saka was highly praised by Arsenal staff for his humility, work ethic, and outstanding character, he couldn't just let this slide.
"I'll go in for the next round," Saka said.
The most important thing in football was teamwork. Saka, possessing brilliant talent himself, had also tried to solve everything on his own during his early youth days, just like the kid in front of him.
But his first steps onto the professional stage had completely shattered that mindset.
In the end, to survive in the adult game, one had to learn teamwork and how to trust their teammates.
Saka tightly laced up his boots, determined to give this kid—who might soon become his junior—a proper "football education."
He stepped onto the pitch and looked at Luka, who was now standing across from him.
Seeing how the kid, who had been playing as a striker in the previous rounds, had shifted to the right wing, it was clear he wanted a direct matchup.
In a 7v7 mini-game, the winger on one side had to defend the opposing winger. The kid seemed incredibly confident, even when facing someone who had already made his Premier League debut.
"I like the confidence. What did you say your name was?"
"Luka. Luka Tachibana."
"Luka... Nice name. Italian?"
"No, Portuguese. You?"
"Bukayo Saka."
"Bukayo... Hmm... It really is different."
Saka let out another wry smile, wondering what on earth was "different" as he watched the kid lost in thought. The kid had surely watched him play just moments ago, yet he was daydreaming right in front of him.
Did they say he came from Japan? Well, he probably played like a king over there, so he doesn't feel any tension.
He looked exactly like Saka himself right before he got called up to the first team. Given his skills, it was natural to be confident in a country like Japan, but Saka was more than ready to crush that arrogance.
This was the Premier League, where the world's greatest talents gathered. And Arsenal was a powerhouse always fighting for Champions League spots within that league. Saka himself was the one who had made his debut for Arsenal at the tender age of seventeen.
"I'm sorry to break it to you, but I'm going to be a bit different from the kids you just played against."
"More importantly, what's his name?"
"Him?"
Saka was dumbfounded by how Luka kept ignoring him to focus on other things, but since the kid might become his junior, he turned his head to look at the player Luka was pointing at.
The player standing there was the midfielder, Harry Clarke.
"Are you talking about Clarke?"
"His first name?"
"Harry."
"Harry Clarke? So Clarke is the same."
Saka had absolutely no idea what was different or what was the same... If he had the average personality of a typical football player, he would have started cursing the moment the kid beckoned him. But Saka's character was top-tier.
"Instead of worrying about that, shouldn't you focus on the guy right in front of you?" Saka chose to offer kind advice rather than get angry.
"On you? I think you'd struggle even if you played for another ten years."
But the response he got was a sneer and pure mockery.
"This motherfucker..."
No matter how good-natured Saka was, holding back after this would make him a saint, not a football player. Saka's face contorted in anger.
"If you've got a problem, prove it with your feet. Though, I doubt you can."
...And his face contorted even further.
"Harry! Send the ball to me!" Saka shouted to Clarke in midfield.
Normally, he would have stuck to the plan and shut the kid down through team play, but from this moment on, it was a battle of pride.
"Fine. I hope your feet are as good as your mouth."
"Sorry to disappoint, but my feet are much harder to stop."
The moment Luka finished speaking, a sharp whistle blew, signaling the start of the match.
The U-16s took the kickoff. Patino got the ball and passed it to Luka. Luka, positioning himself three to four meters in front of Saka, stood perfectly still with the ball at his feet.
Then, he beckoned with his finger once more.
"Not coming? Then I'm coming to you."
"Unbelievable..."
The basics of defending dictated that he delay the attacker's breakthrough. In a standoff like this, the defender held all the cards, so there was absolutely no reason to rush in.
Sure, such childish provocations might work among kids, but Saka was practically a professional who had already survived the brutal trash talk of the Premier League, where insults about one's mother were commonplace. Luka's clumsy provocation wasn't going to work on him.
Idiot. What is he going to do after stopping right when he receives the ball?
It was obvious just from his attitude: this kid was way too showy. From what Saka had observed from the sidelines, Luka's main strength was his physicality. His ball control during dribbles was decent, but his individual skill set wasn't exceptionally outstanding.
Against youth players whose pressing wasn't very tight in a spacious mini-game, Saka could have put on a similar performance.
But now, by stopping the moment he received the ball, Luka had voluntarily given up his greatest advantage: his physical momentum.
Even so, Saka didn't let his guard down. He kept his eyes glued to Luka's feet. The kid's feet began to move, slowly approaching.
Since he likes flashy plays, he'll probably start with a fake. But wait, which is his dominant foot?
Right foot? Left foot? He seemed to use both equally in the previous rounds... Ultimately, when a player tries to break through, they tend to lean toward their dominant foot. But no matter how much Saka racked his brain, he couldn't be sure which foot was the kid's primary one.
Of course, it was impossible for Saka to know. In his past life, Kim Taehyun's dominant foot had been his right, whereas Luka's original dominant foot was his left.
Furthermore, like a true Korean player, Kim Taehyun was completely ambidextrous with his feet. Although his use of his left foot had drastically decreased after his career-ending injury, now that he had spent a month adapting to Luka's body, asking which foot was his dominant one was entirely meaningless.
Luka's left foot moved first.
Left!
Judging by his body movement, this was a clear attempt to break through! Having played as a wing-back, Saka boasted a decent defensive capability at the youth level. He anticipated the move instantly and lunged his foot toward the ball the moment Luka began to accelerate.
"Ugh...!"
But the ball that was clearly right in front of him vanished. It was as if a ghost had played a trick on him.
A split second later, he spotted the ball. It was already at the kid's right foot. Saka desperately swung his extended leg, but the ball shifted back to the left.
"Saka!"
He heard his teammate's warning and tried to change direction, but his balance was already completely shattered. Fighting to keep from falling, he whipped his head around, only to see the kid already far ahead.
It wasn't some flashy, complex trick, but a simple La Croqueta—a move any football player could execute. In certain parts of the East, it was also known as the Phantom Dribble. The execution was absolutely flawless.
Saka quickly pushed himself up with his hand and gave chase, but the gap between them only widened with every passing second.
McGinness, playing as the center-back, rushed out to stop him, but a simple shoulder drop from Luka completely threw him off balance. Luka was now one-on-one with the goalkeeper.
Then came another thunderous, cannon-like shot. The goalkeeper dived, but Luka's shot had already blasted past his fingertips. Saka could only watch the scene in a daze.
W-what was that just now?
The body feint combined with the instantaneous La Croqueta. And that unbelievable speed.
Having played as a wing-back in the youth academy, Saka had watched first-team world-class players like Thierry Henry and Dennis Bergkamp up close. Yet, Luka didn't seem to lag behind them at all.
No, it was more like he was a fusion of all the strengths of Arsenal's attack: Theo Walcott's blistering speed, Henry's lethal finishing, and Bergkamp's sublime touch.
It might have been an exaggeration, but for a split second, Saka saw the shadows of those first-team legends overlapping with the boy.
Unlike the previous rounds, there was no unnecessary flashiness. It was the display of a perfect, lethal striker.
Clap, clap, clap!
The watching coaches couldn't help but applaud.
Hearing the applause, Saka finally realized. Luka wasn't a junior who needed to be taught a lesson; he was a rival with whom he would have to compete for a spot in the first team.
Or perhaps, they weren't even on the same level of competition.
He's only fifteen? ...What an absurd talent.
A gap in talent so vast it could be felt in a single duel. Saka shook his head to clear his thoughts of Luka. If he kept dwelling on the kid's play, he would only feel more pathetic.
However...
"Luka! How could you let them bypass you like that?"
"...I'm a striker."
"Hey!"
...The fact that the kid had absolutely no talent for defending was quite a relief for Saka, who could play wing-back.
"Ken! Tachibana is absolutely insane! Where on earth did you find a kid like him?"
"Huh? Tachibana? You mean the Tachibana who joined the training session today?"
"Of course! This kid is going to be the crown jewel of our club!"
"Is he really that good for you to react like this?"
"Yes! In my opinion, he might turn out to be even bigger than Jack Wilshere or Cesc Fàbregas."
Gillard was utterly flabbergasted by the U-16 coach's wild excitement. He had only been back in his office for an hour, catching up on paperwork after overseeing the U-18 training session as usual, and now someone was shouting like this in his face.
Actually, it hadn't even been an hour. Five rounds of eight-minute games with two-minute breaks added up to exactly fifty minutes. And the fact that the cause of all this commotion was Luka—the very kid who had spoken so arrogantly earlier—was even more shocking.
"Did you record it?"
"Who records a mini-game? But Ken, that's not the point! This kid is the real deal. He's the real deal!"
"Alright, alright. Calm down a bit."
"We have to sign him right now. Right this second!"
"How can we sign a player who isn't even sixteen yet?"
"He said he'd go look at other clubs if he failed here, right? We have to tie him down before he gets the chance!"
Just what on earth had the coach witnessed to make him lose his mind like this? Gillard was starting to get genuinely curious.
"Fine, I'll make sure to watch him closely in the next match. Don't we have a game against the U-23s in three days?"
Currently, both Arsenal's U-23 and U-18 teams had a ten-day gap in their official schedules, so a friendly match had been arranged to keep the players match-fit.
If the kid possessed the kind of talent that could make a coach rave like this, he should be able to hold his own even against the U-23s, who were essentially grown men.
"No, you don't even need to wait that long. Just watch him during tomorrow's technical training. See what kind of monster the scouting team has reeled in! Even a blind man could see it!"
"Alright, alright. That's enough."
And the next day.
"So, Tachibana?"
"Yes?"
"You're planning to study abroad in England? Have you decided on a school? We have partner schools we work with... Ah, you're definitely from Portugal, right? It's tricky to sign players without EU citizenship. I've already checked, but let me double-check the regulations just to be absolutely sure."
After watching Luka's technical training session, Gillard finally understood exactly why the coach had made such a fuss.
I have to tell the manager about this. No matter what!
And above all, they could not let this player slip through their fingers.