Evening
[Kai's room, Billy's house, London]
The loft-style room was modest—about 10 square meters, with a sloped wooden ceiling. Aside from the bed and a wardrobe, there wasn't much else. A single window sat near the ceiling above the bed, framing a quiet slice of the sky.
Kai had never cared much for luxury.
Most of the salary he earned from Arsenal was saved, minus a small token of appreciation he gave to Billy.
At the moment, he was sitting cross-legged on his bed, rolling a ball around with his feet, working on the basics—touch control, light taps, short flicks. Every minute counted. He didn't want to waste even one.
Progress was slow, but Kai was patient. He believed that if he kept going, his moment would come.
As he practiced, a memory surfaced.
(Flashback)
"The league starts tomorrow."
After dinner, Kai sat with Billy and his family to watch the Premier League preview show. It was a preseason staple, full of bold predictions and overcooked analysis.
The pundits named the teams they expected to shine that season: Manchester United, Manchester City, as the favourites and Everton as the dark horse.
Arsenal, however, had been listed under "teams likely to underperform."
Billy had nearly exploded. He spent the next five minutes ranting about how clueless the analysts were and accusing them of stirring up drama for clicks.
(Flashback ends)
But Kai knew better.
Unless something miraculous happened, Arsenal was in for a rough start.
Lost in thought, his concentration slipped, and he hit the ball too hard. It bounced up and smacked the ceiling.
With a tired sigh, Kai let himself fall back onto the bed, gazing up at the night sky through the slanted window.
It was clear and starry—a rare peaceful moment.
Just as sleep began to creep in, there was a knock, followed by the slow creak of the door opening.
"You still awake?"
Kevin, in pajamas and rubbing one eye, leaned into the room.
Kai sat up, a bit puzzled. "What's up, Kevin?"
Kevin hesitated at the door, then came in and quietly shut it behind him. He walked over, eyes wide with something like admiration.
Kai noticed his expression and blinked. "What's that look for? Do I have something on my face?"
Kevin shook his head. "I heard what happened with Mike."
Kai's eyebrows lifted slightly.
"He's kind of a legend around here—a bully and an athlete. And you…defeated him like a superhero."
Kai scratched his neck, slightly embarrassed by the attention.
Kevin sat down on the edge of the bed, motioned for Kevin to sit and sighed. "I wish I could be like you. Maybe then I wouldn't get picked on so much."
Kai looked at him for a long second, then said gently, "Kevin, you've got more fight in you than you think."
Kevin shook his head quickly. "No way. There are too many of them. I can't win."
Kai chuckled. "It's not about winning every fight. It's about standing up for yourself. If you keep staying quiet, it'll never stop. Bullies don't respect fear—they feed on it."
Kevin looked down. "But I don't even know how to start."
Kai smiled. "Then let's find you the right weapon."
...
The next morning
Kai was up early as usual, ready for his run. To his surprise, Kevin was already at the door, dressed in a tracksuit and gripping a baseball bat.
When he saw Kai, Kevin walked over proudly and pointed at the bat. "This was signed by my favorite player—David Seaman."
Kai grinned. "So this is your weapon, huh?"
Kevin nodded with conviction.
Kai nodded back and started jogging. Kevin, humming a tune and swinging the bat, followed after him.
They didn't get far before Kevin started lagging behind.
"Whew… I can't go any farther!"
Kai turned back, smiling. "Then hang tight. I'll finish and come back for you."
"Okay!" Kevin raised his bat. "I'll practice my swings here."
Kai ran for another half hour, finishing as usual at the nearby hill to cool off. When he returned to the spot, Kevin was completely worn out.
Kai ended up carrying him home on his back.
Billy and his wife were already up. After greeting them, Kai took a cold shower and left for the training base.
...
[Arsenal Training Base, London]
The base was buzzing.
Media reporters gathered outside, cameras ready for anything interesting. Kai passed by, unnoticed—still just a youth player.
Suddenly, someone called out.
"They're coming!"
The low hum of an engine grew louder, and moments later, a light gray team bus, Arsenal's crest gleaming on the side, rolled out slowly from the base.
Reporters surged forward, snapping pictures.
Kai stood quietly to the side, watching the bus as it drove off. The windows were tinted black. He couldn't see inside.
Still, he kept looking until the bus disappeared down the road.
Someday, he thought. Someday I'll be on that bus, fighting for Arsenal's honor.
Soon after, he ran into Chamberlain, who came bearing bad news.
"Pat's gone with the team!" Chamberlain said, exasperated. "So what the hell are we supposed to do?"
Kai blinked, connecting the dots. The assistant coach had left with the senior squad.
They were unsupervised.
"Wait the surprise he promised" Kai muttered. "He didn't say anything that before leaving?"
"Nope." Chamberlain asked. "So... what now?"
Kai shrugged. "We wait."
A beat passed.
"Wanna just repeat yesterday's training?"
Chamberlain sighed. "Guess we don't have a choice."
They jogged a few laps to warm up.
"Oh, by the way," Chamberlain said, grinning, "I got jersey number 15!"
Kai side-eyed him. "Didn't you join earlier than me? Why'd it take this long?"
Chamberlain shrugged. "Who knows?"
They moved on to short passing drills—about five meters apart, continuous passing with light movement.
Kai noticed right away: Chamberlain's passes had extra weight behind them.
He was eager—desperate, even.
Unlike Kai, who still needed to wait for a work permit to be eligible, Chamberlain had no such hurdle. He was English and more than qualified. He wanted in.
He needed to.
And yet, the first team hadn't called him up. He wasn't even on the roster.
The frustration showed.
Kai had tried to reassure him—"It's just groundwork, we need a solid base"—but Chamberlain remained restless.
Truth be told, Kai was uneasy too.
So many talented youngsters had vanished into the abyss of Arsenal's bench. He didn't want to be one of them.
The fact that Pat had arranged special training for them gave him hope. But even then, patience was hard.
As they continued training, a voice interrupted them.
"Mind if I join?"
Both of them turned.
A man in Arsenal training gear stood a few meters away. He looked about 1.8 meters tall, solid build and, friendly face.
Kai didn't recognize him at first—until the man walked closer.
"Arteta?"
Mikel Arteta, the man who would one day captain Arsenal and become its strategic core.
Arteta smiled. "Pat told me there'd be a surprise here. Didn't expect it to be two teenagers."
"I'm not that young," Chamberlain said defensively. "I'll be twenty in two years."
Arteta shrugged. "Fair enough. So, can I join you?"
Chamberlain opened his mouth to refuse out of habit, but Kai cut him off quickly.
"Of course!" Kai said with a grin, giving Chamberlain a playful punch in the stomach. "Idiot—that's our guest coach. Experienced midfielder. You want to chase him off?"
Arteta chuckled, watching them.
But his eyes lingered on Kai.
Pat's words echoed in his head: "You might find your future partner there."
Arteta didn't say anything.
He simply pulled off his warm-up top and said, "How about some offensive-defensive drills?"
Kai nodded. "Sounds perfect."