Manchester woke up divided.
Blue on one side.
Red on the other.
Posters filled the streets. Social media burned with arguments. Sports channels replayed clips of two goals again and again.
Khali.
Bello.
Same roots.
Different badges.
Same dream.
Opposite sides.
Tonight, they would finally meet on the same pitch.
The Tunnel
The Etihad roared long before kickoff.
Khali stood in the tunnel wearing City blue, jaw tight, eyes focused. His name echoed from the stands, mixing with boos from the away fans.
Across from him stood Bello — red jersey, calm expression, hands clasped behind his back.
For a moment, the noise faded.
Their eyes met.
No smiles.
No words.
Just a short nod.
Let's do this.
Kickoff
The whistle blew.
The derby exploded into life.
City controlled possession. United pressed aggressively. Tackles were harder. Runs were sharper. Every pass felt personal.
Khali dictated the midfield, moving the ball with intelligence and calm. Bello stayed high, always threatening, always watching for space.
In the 22nd minute, it happened.
Khali turned away from pressure and sent a sharp pass through midfield.
Bello stepped in.
Intercepted.
He burst forward, defenders scrambling. One-on-one with the keeper—
Shot.
Saved.
The crowd gasped.
Khali exhaled slowly.
That was close.
First Blood
In the 38th minute, City struck.
A quick one-two near the box. Khali received the ball, shaped his body, and slipped a pass between two defenders.
Haaland finished it.
1–0 City.
Khali raised his arm — but his eyes searched the pitch.
Bello stood still for a second, then clapped once.
Game on.
Second Half Fire
United came back harder.
Bello dropped deeper, demanding the ball, fighting for every touch.
In the 61st minute, he made his move.
A cross flew into the box. Bello timed his run perfectly, rose above the defense, and headed the ball down—
GOAL.
1–1.
Old Trafford fans exploded in the away end.
Bello didn't celebrate wildly.
He just pointed to the badge on his chest.
Khali watched, chest rising and falling.
Respect.
The Moment Between Them
In the 74th minute, Khali and Bello collided in midfield — shoulder to shoulder, neither backing down.
The referee blew the whistle.
As they stood up, mud-stained and breathing hard, Bello leaned in.
"Still dreaming, huh?"
Khali replied quietly, "Every second."
They shared the smallest grin before walking away.
The Decider
88th minute.
City pushed forward one last time.
Khali picked up the ball near the edge of the box. A defender closed him down. Another followed.
He saw a narrow gap.
He didn't hesitate.
Shot.
The ball curled, kissed the inside of the post—
GOAL.
The stadium erupted.
2–1 City.
Khali dropped to his knees, fists clenched, heart pounding.
This wasn't just a goal.
It was a statement.
Full Time
The whistle blew.
City won.
Players shook hands. Jerseys tugged. Sweat dripped.
Khali and Bello met near the center circle.
Bello pulled him into a quick hug.
"You earned it," Bello said.
Khali nodded. "Next time is yours."
From the stands, Amira watched them — not rivals, not enemies.
Just two boys who refused to let football take their souls.
After the Lights
That night, headlines screamed rivalry.
But somewhere in Manchester, two phones buzzed at the same time.
A message.
Nigeria Football Federation: Senior Team Call-Up — Preliminary List
Two names highlighted.
Khali Usman.
Bello Yusuf.
Their journey wasn't dividing anymore.
It was expanding.