God Of football

Chapter 229: The Day Won’t End

Izan’s breath was steady as he slowed his pace, the rhythmic pounding of his feet against the pavement gradually fading.

The morning sun was climbing, casting a golden glow over the quiet Valencia streets. He could feel the lingering burn in his legs, a satisfying ache that reminded him of last night’s match.

His hoodie was damp with sweat, sticking uncomfortably to his back, but he didn’t mind. The run had done its job—his muscles felt awake, and his mind was clear.

As he approached his home, he stopped just outside, hands on his hips as he took in a few deep breaths.

His heart rate was beginning to settle as he entered the house, the cool air greeting him the moment he stepped inside.

The familiar scent of coffee wafted through the hallway, mixed with the faint trace of Komi’s floral perfume.

He could hear the distant hum of the television, and the sound of Hori’s laughter echoing from the living room.

After removing his running shoes, he made his way to the bathroom, peeling off his hoodie and tossing it into the laundry basket.

His reflection in the mirror was a reminder of the match from last night—his hair was a mess, his skin glistening with sweat, but there was also a quiet satisfaction in his expression.

They had beaten Barcelona. He let out a small chuckle to himself before stepping into the shower.

The hot water was a welcome relief, washing away the sweat and tension from his body. His muscles, which had felt stiff earlier, were beginning to loosen up under the steady stream.

He closed his eyes, allowing himself a few moments to simply exist in the warmth before finally reaching for the soap.

....

After he finished bathing, his stomach let out a low grumble, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since last night’s post-match meal.

As he stepped into the living room, the first thing he saw was Komi seated at the dining table, her phone in one hand and a steaming cup of coffee in the other.

Hori was next to her, dressed for school, scrolling through her tablet with an almost lazy disinterest.

”There he is,” Komi said, setting her phone down. ”Finally back from your personal Olympics.”

Izan rolled his eyes as he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. ”It was just a run.”

”Uh-huh.” Komi gave him a knowing look. ”Anyway, your school called earlier. They said you should take the day off.

Something about giving you time to recover after your ’professional commitments.’”

Izan raised an eyebrow, pausing mid-drink. ”Wait, what? Really?”

Komi smirked. ”Apparently, they don’t want their star student collapsing in class. I think the principal might be a Valencia fan.”

Before Izan could respond, Hori let out an exaggerated groan, dramatically dropping her tablet onto the table. ”This is so unfair.”

Izan smirked, taking a seat across from her. ”What is?”

”This! You get to stay home and chill while I have to sit through boring classes all day?” She jabbed her toast with her fork, as if personally offended by the news. ”I get good grades too, you know. Where’s my day off?”

”You’re not a professional athlete,” Izan pointed out.

Hori scoffed. ”Oh, please. You just kicked a ball for ninety minutes. Meanwhile, I have to suffer through math for the day. If anyone needs recovery time, it’s me.”

Izan let out a chuckle, shaking his head. ”Yeah, I’ll be sure to tell the school that.”

Komi, who had been sipping her coffee through their bickering, finally spoke up. ”So, how are you going to spend your day, Izan?”

Izan leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms. ”I don’t know yet. Maybe I’ll go out for a bit. Take it easy.”

Hori shot him a suspicious look. ”You? Take it easy?”

Komi laughed softly. ”She’s got a point.”

”Hey,” Izan said, raising his hands in mock defense. ”I can relax.”

Hori snorted. ”Yeah, I’ll believe that when I see it.”

Komi chuckled, shaking her head. ”Just don’t forget to eat properly, alright? You know how you get when you’re focused on something.”

Izan rolled his eyes. ”Got it, Mom.”

Hori sighed, slumping against the table. ”Still jealous.”

Izan reached over and ruffled her hair, earning a swat on his hand. She tried to act annoyed, but he could see the small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

As much as she complained, he knew she wasn’t hurt by it.

Breakfast had been lively, filled with Hori’s exaggerated complaints and Komi’s amused remarks, but now the house was settling into a quieter rhythm.

Izan stood by the door, watching as Komi adjusted Hori’s collar, making sure everything was in place before they left.

”Don’t forget your lunch,” Komi reminded, handing Hori a small bag.

”I won’t,” Hori grumbled, though her attention was clearly elsewhere. She glanced over her shoulder at Izan, narrowing her eyes.

”I swear, if I come home and find out you spent the whole day playing video games, I’m going to be mad.”

Izan leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. ”Why do you care?”

”Because it’s a waste of a free day! Go outside, live a little.” She sighed dramatically as if his lack of plans was personally disappointing to her.

Komi placed a gentle hand on her back, steering her towards the door. ”Alright, enough lecturing. Let’s go before you’re late.”

She then turned back to Izan, giving him a small smile. ”Take it easy today, okay?”

Izan nodded. ”Yeah, I will.”

”Good,” she said before stepping out with Hori, who was still mumbling something about unfairness.

Izan watched as they walked down to the driveway.

He waited until their car disappeared around the corner before shutting the door, the click echoing through the now-quiet home.

For a moment, he just stood there, taking in the silence. It wasn’t often that he had the place to himself. Between training, matches, and school, moments like these were not common.

With a deep breath, he ran a hand through his hair and turned back towards the living room. Now, the question was—what was he actually going to do with his day off?

With no immediate obligations, Izan sank into the couch, controller in hand, and let the world of gaming pull him in.

His fingers moved instinctively over the buttons as he navigated through a high-paced football match on the screen.

It wasn’t quite the same as playing on the real pitch, but it kept his mind engaged. He leaned forward, focused, as he maneuvered his virtual player past defenders and struck the ball cleanly into the top corner.

The game’s commentators erupted in celebration, and Izan let out a satisfied breath.

But after a few matches, the excitement wore off. He tossed the controller onto the cushion beside him and stretched his arms over his head.

The clock read 10:47 AM. He had been playing for nearly an hour, yet the day still felt like it had barely started.

His phone vibrated beside him, and when he picked it up, Sosa’s name flashed on the screen. A small smirk played on his lips as he answered.

”You actually have time to pick up my calls now?” Sosa said before he could even say hello.

”Shocking, right?” he shot back, settling further into the couch. ”Guess what? The school gave me the day off.”

”I know,” he replied, unimpressed. ”They mentioned it in class. Everyone’s talking about how unfair it is.”

Izan laughed. ”Even the teachers?”

”Especially the teachers,” he joked. ”Anyway, what are you doing with all this free time?”

”Not much. Played some games, and now I’m just sitting here.”

”Sounds thrilling,” Sosa deadpanned. ”You should go out or something. Do something fun.”

”I was thinking about it,” Izan admitted. ”Maybe I’ll go for a walk.”

”Alone?”

”Yeah, but I’ll go undercover,” he said, grinning to himself. ”Cap, mask, hoodie—the whole thing.”

”Bro, just don’t,” Sosa said with a sigh but Izan didn’t reply.

The two talked for a moment, exchanging light banter, before Sosa had to return to class.

Once the call ended, Izan decided he might as well go outside. Throwing on a black hoodie and a cap, he left the house and started walking, keeping his head low.

The city had a different energy when he wasn’t rushing to training or school—shops setting up, people going about their day, the smell of fresh pastries drifting from a nearby café.

He wandered aimlessly, weaving through narrow streets and occasionally stopping to glance at shop windows.

Nobody seemed to notice him, which was exactly what he wanted.

But after about an hour of walking, the feeling of excitement wore off. He had roamed the streets, breathed in the fresh air, and still—when he got home and checked the time—it was barely past noon.

Letting out a groan, he flopped onto the couch, staring at the ceiling.

”This day is never going to end, is it?”