God Of football

Chapter 884: The Happiest Place On Earth.

[2 Days Later]

Morning light poured through the glass walls of the hotel lobby, washing over a sea of travel bags, passports, and quiet chatter.

Players leaned on their suitcases, phones in hand, faces still wearing the half-sleep of an early flight day.

Izan stood among them, hands in his pockets, the only one without a single piece of luggage beside him.

His tracksuit looked just as pressed as it did when he got it two days ago, his mood calm despite the busy atmosphere around him.

Arteta spotted him from across the lobby, weaving his way through the players and staff.

He stopped in front of Izan, placing a hand on his shoulder with a faint smile.

”You’ve worked hard, kid,” he said, his eyes darkened, a tell-tale sign of a manager who had worked hard to provide all the tactical solutions his team could work with.

Izan gave a small laugh.

”You’re making it sound like I’m leaving the club or something.”

Arteta’s lips curled into a grin.

”It feels like that sometimes. You’ve been everywhere, done everything, now you’re standing here with nothing to carry.”

”Guess I’m travelling light,” Izan said, shrugging.

”My family and I are staying a few more days in the States. Just to look around a bit, see the place before heading home.”

Arteta nodded slowly, the kind of nod that said he understood.

”Good. Don’t think about football for once.”

”I’ll try,” Izan replied, smiling. ”Can’t promise, though.”

Arteta chuckled, patting his shoulder again before turning away. ”Enjoy it while it lasts.”

”You too, Mister. You should rest,” Izan said just as the manager took a few steps and stopped, his attention caught by the sound of a scuffle near the doors.

There was Saka, buried behind a mountain of bags, wobbling dangerously while trying to drag everything himself.

Two staff members reached for the trophy case he was gripping like a newborn, but Saka twisted away, shaking his head.

”Don’t touch this one!” he said, grinning widely, his voice echoing through the lobby.

”This one’s mine.”

The players around him burst into laughter, some tossing comments, others filming on their phones.

”Make sure it gets its own seat on the plane or Saka might kill on the plane!” Nwaneri said, only for Saka to puff his chest out, pretending to struggle more than he really was, his smile too wide to hide.

Arteta just shook his head.

”Every time,” he muttered, then looked back at Izan, who was watching the whole thing with an easy grin.

”Go on,” the manager said, motioning toward the players.

”Say your goodbyes before they leave without you.”

Izan nodded and walked through the blur of laughter and movement, exchanging a few hugs and handshakes before the players began boarding the lined-up vans outside.

Izan stood for a moment at the entrance, watching as one van after another pulled out into the street.

The last van to go had Saka in it, pressed up against the window, trophy case still on his lap.

Izan raised a hand, waving lazily, before the van turned the corner and disappeared from sight.

Then, with the lobby quiet again and only a few hotel staff bustling behind the desk, he exhaled through his nose, slipped his hands back into his pockets, and turned for the elevators.

”Just a few more days,” he murmured to himself as he stepped inside.

”Then home. But got to start packing first.”

.....

[Anaheim]

”Haahhh,” Izan mouthed for the umpteenth time as their car pulled up into the barking lot, with the sun glinting off of everything around them, the cars, the railings, even the puddles from the sprinklers that had just gone off near the entrance.

”Thank you,” Komi and her son said almost simultaneously to the driver as they got out of the car.

The latter nodded before moving to find a better parking space.

Izan now stood with his hands in his pockets, squinting slightly as he stared up at the massive, colourful archway that stretched over the gates ahead, with children running around with Mickey ears and parents already bargaining for snacks, music floating from hidden speakers.

He turned his head slowly toward Olivia, who was practically bouncing beside him, her phone already out and recording.

”Here,” he said, his tone flat but curious. ”This is where you wanted us to come?”

Olivia looked up from her screen, nodded eagerly, and grinned.

”Obviously. You can’t come to America and not see Disneyland.”

Before Izan could respond, a voice erupted from somewhere ahead.

”Welcome to Disneyland!”

A cluster of tourists near the entrance cheered, and the sound echoed over the laughter and chatter.

Izan exhaled through his nose, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and quiet resignation.

”Perfect,” he muttered, glancing around at the growing crowd.

Even without people knowing what he did, his already exotic and handsome look was drawing attention.

Some faces flickered with recognition while a few phones tilted up in that all-too-familiar way.

He sighed, reaching into his pocket for the black mask he’d kept tucked there.

”Yeah, this is going to go great,” he said softly, tugging it on and pulling the brim of his cap lower.

Olivia caught the tone in his voice and turned to him with a half-smile.

”Relax, you’ll be fine. No one’s going to chase you here. It’s Disneyland, not a Champions League final.”

Izan gave her a look, one brow raised just enough to make her laugh.

”Right,” he said. ”Tell that to the guy over there pretending not to take a picture.”

”Come on, superstar. You’re with me now. And you said I should pick so you can’t complain about it now.”

He looked at her for a moment longer, then back at the giant smiling face above the gate.

A few seconds passed before he finally spoke, his voice quieter this time.

”Let’s just get inside,” he said.

And as they joined the line weaving toward the entrance where the noise of the crowd swelled again, high-pitched laughter, music, chatter, all rolling together into a dreamlike buzz that seemed to only exist in places like this.

Then they disappeared into the moving sea of people.

By the time they passed under the wide, cartoon-colored arch and into the heart of Disneyland, the sun had climbed high enough to sting a little.

Izan raised his wrist and glanced at his watch, shaking his head with a half-grin.

”An hour and thirty minutes,” he said. ”That’s how long it took us just to get through the gate.”

Olivia winced playfully, hands up in surrender.

”Okay, okay, but the experience is worth the wait. You’ll see.”

Miranda, already digging into a popcorn bucket she’d bought somewhere along the line, snorted.

”You’re lucky it was only an hour and a half. People wait three, sometimes five hours on weekends.”

Izan just sighed and looked at Miranda, who just nodded, a grin tugging at her lips.

”Welcome to the happiest place on earth.”

Before he could respond, Hori slipped up beside him, tugging on the strap of his jacket.

”You’ve got money,” he said in that teasing, matter-of-fact tone.

”You could’ve just rented out the express line or something instead of whining.”

Izan looked down at him, eyes narrowing slightly but still amused. ”I’ve got money, yeah,” he said, ”but that doesn’t mean I have to waste it. Being a little privileged doesn’t mean I can’t stand in line like everyone else.”

Komi, a few steps behind, caught the exchange and smiled quietly.

Her son, despite everything, hadn’t changed much.

”All right,” she said, stepping forward, her voice carrying that gentle firmness only a mother could manage.

”No more arguing. We’ve got a whole world of adventure waiting for us.”

She reached out and took Izan’s hand.

He looked at her for a second, then smiled faintly and laced his fingers through hers.

Olivia giggled beside him before feeling Izan tug her hand as well, and soon the line of them was linked, Komi with Izan, Izan with Olivia, Komi’s other hand holding Miranda’s, who in turn grabbed Hori’s sleeve and pulled her along.

They walked that way into the park, laughter bubbling between them as the noise and colours of Disneyland unfolded around them.

But at the edge of that same brightness, two men stepped through the gates, scanning the crowd.

Both wore sunglasses and casual clothes that made them look like they were forcing too hard to fit in.

”That’s them,” the older one murmured. ”That’s the Komi family.”

The younger man squinted ahead.

”So what now? We can’t exactly walk up to him in the middle of all this.”

The older man kept his gaze steady on the crowd, then gave a small nod toward a cluster of staff members in Disneyland polos who were gathering near the side.

Within seconds, one of the employees approached them, speaking quietly.

”We’ll keep an eye out,” she said. ”If we spot Izan or his family, we’ll call you right away.”

The older man’s lips curved into a small, satisfied smile.

”Perfect.”