God Of football

By the time he got home, the exhaustion had settled deep in his bones.

The day had drained him—not physically, but mentally. Too many questions, and too much speculation.

And now, it was time.

Miranda was already waiting when he walked in.

She sat at the dining table, laptop open, phone beside her, an iced coffee in hand.

She looked up as he entered, her sharp eyes scanning him like she knew what was coming.

"Long day?" she asked, leaning back.

Izan exhaled as he pulled out a chair and sat across from her. "You could say that."

Miranda closed her laptop. "You've made a decision." It wasn't a question.

He met her gaze.

A beat of silence passed.

Then—

"I choose....Arsenal."

Miranda didn't react immediately. No surprise, no skepticism. Just a slow, considering nod.

"You're sure?"

Izan ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah. I mean… I think so."

Miranda studied him for a moment before reaching for her phone. "Then let's get to work."

Komi and Hori sat beside Izan, both smiling, their expressions filled with a mixture of pride and quiet relief.

"You really thought this through," Komi said, resting a hand on his shoulder. "That's what matters."

Izan nodded. He had. It hadn't been easy, but now that the decision was made, a strange sense of peace settled over him.

Hori nudged him playfully. "You took your time, though. I was starting to think you'd leave it until deadline day just to stress everyone out."

Izan rolled his eyes, but before he could respond, Hori had already pulled out his phone from its coffers.

Her fingers danced over the screen as she typed out a message.

It didn't take long for a reply to come through.

Izan caught the slight shift in Hori's smile before she turned the screen away from him.

He didn't have to ask. He already knew.

Olivia.

A moment later, another buzz. Olivia had responded.

Hori glanced at the message before looking at Izan. "She's happy for you," she said, then hesitated. "But…"

Izan already knew what was coming. He reached out and snatched the phone from her hand before she could stop him.

There it was.

"Arsenal?!! OMG, I'm so happy for you!! I knew you'd pick the challenge over comfort. I'm so proud of you, Izan <3"

A small smirk tugged at his lips. He could practically hear her voice in his head, that mix of excitement and admiration.

But then, another message came in right after.

"But I wish you'd chosen Madrid… You know that, right?"

Izan exhaled through his nose, handing the phone back without replying.

Komi looked at him knowingly. "You could've been closer to her."

"She understands," Izan said, more to himself than to her.

And she did. Olivia had never once pushed him toward Madrid, never tried to convince him. But he also knew that, deep down, she had hoped.

Komi squeezed his shoulder. "No matter where you go, the people who care about you will always support you."

Izan gave a small nod. It wasn't just Olivia. His teammates, his friends, his family—everyone had their preferences, their own ideas of what would be best for him.

But in the end, the choice had always been his.

And he had made it.

...…..

Miranda leaned against the kitchen counter, phone in hand, as she waited for the call to connect.

Across the city, inside one of Valencia CF's boardrooms, the atmosphere was tense.

The club's director sat at the head of a long table, surrounded by others—executives, legal representatives, members of the coaching staff.

They had all been waiting for this.

When Miranda's name flashed on the director's screen, he answered immediately, putting the phone on speaker.

A beat of silence.

Then Miranda's voice came through, calm and direct.

"Izan has made his decision."

The room stilled.

Miranda exhaled lightly. "He's joining Arsenal."

A brief silence. Then, a measured response. "Understood."

"You know what to do," she said simply.

"We'll inform them immediately."

Miranda ended the call and placed the phone down. She exhaled, glancing at Izan, who sat across from her, arms folded as he watched her work.

Neither of them had to wait long.

Her laptop screen flickered, a call coming in.

Mikel Arteta.

Miranda arched an eyebrow, exchanging a quick glance with Izan before she answered.

Arteta's face appeared on the screen, his expression composed but undeniably pleased.

"Miranda." His eyes then flickered past her. "And Izan."

Izan gave a slight nod.

"I don't want to take up too much of your time," Arteta started, his voice steady but carrying an unmistakable energy.

"I just wanted to say how glad we are about your decision."

Miranda, however, leaned forward before Izan could respond.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," she said smoothly. "A choice has been made, yes. But nothing is set in stone until everything is agreed upon."

Arteta chuckled. "Of course."

"And while Izan doesn't play football for money, that doesn't mean we ignore that aspect," she continued.

Arteta nodded knowingly. "I understand."

"Good."

There was a brief pause before Arteta's smile returned, his voice lighter.

"We'll send over the personal terms after this call."

Miranda nodded and then Arteta's expression softened slightly as he leaned forward.

"Izan," he began, his tone shifting to something more direct. "I won't waste your time—I know what kind of player you are.

I've watched you for a long time. We're not bringing you here to just be another signing."

Izan listened, his gaze sharp but unreadable.

"We want you as the face of our attack," Arteta continued. "Your intelligence, your movement, your ability to create and score—we need that.

I see you thriving on the right, but also moving inside, attacking the spaces, dictating play when needed. You won't be restricted."

Izan didn't respond immediately, absorbing the words.

"Your style fits us perfectly," Arteta pressed on. "You're technical, but you play with intensity.

You press, you work hard, you make things happen. That's exactly what I want. And more than that—we're building something here, Izan. You would be a pillar of it."

Izan finally tilted his head, his voice even. "And how do you see me alongside the squad? How does it work tactically?"

Arteta's smile widened slightly. "Seamlessly."

He shifted forward. "We're flexible, but we have principles. Fluidity in attack, control in possession, aggression in transitions.

You fit all of that. I can see you linking with Martinelli, with Ødegaard, with Saka. The chemistry would be natural."

Izan remained quiet, his mind processing the vision.

Arteta then exhaled, his voice turning slightly lighter.

"I won't take up more of your time. I just wanted you to hear it from me directly." He nodded slightly.

"We'll handle the rest. And when it's done—I'll be glad to see you in North London."

Not long after the call ended, Miranda's laptop chimed with a new email notification.

She glanced at the screen, already knowing what it was before she even clicked it open.

Contract Proposal – Arsenal Football Club

She wasted no time scanning through the document, her eyes narrowing as she processed the details. As expected, Arsenal wasn't holding back.

"Izan," she said, motioning him over as she scrolled further. "They've sent the personal terms."

Izan leaned in beside her, glancing at the screen as she continued reading.

"Base salary will be fifteen million pounds per year," she noted. "But with performance bonuses and clauses… it jumps to twenty million annually."

Izan blinked, his expression neutral, but even he couldn't ignore the magnitude of the offer.

It was clear that Arsenal wasn't just signing him—they were making him their highest-paid player and that reflected their trust and what they expected of him.

Komi and Hori, still sitting nearby, exchanged glances. Hori let out a low whistle. "That's insane."

Miranda continued scrolling. "There are goal bonuses, assist bonuses, and a significant Champions League incentive.

If you win the Premier League, another boost. And, of course, a loyalty clause that increases your salary if you stay beyond three seasons."

Izan folded his arms, exhaling. "They're serious."

Miranda nodded. "Very." She glanced at him. "What do you think?"

Izan didn't answer immediately. He wasn't the type to chase money—it had never been his primary motivation.

But he wasn't ignorant either. The financial aspect was part of the game, and whether he liked it or not, it was a reflection of value.

More than anything, this proved that Arsenal saw him as their key player. Not just another signing, but the signing.

His fingers tapped lightly against his arm as he processed everything.

His decision had already been made, but now, with the contract in front of him, it felt real.

Miranda watched him carefully before closing the laptop with a soft click.

"Sleep on it," she said. "We'll go over everything again in the morning before making things official."

Izan nodded, but he knew sleep wouldn't come easily. Not with everything that was about to change.

A/n: There it is folks. Izan is officially joining Arsenal. It was coming and now it is finally here.

Your boy is about to create the greatest success stories with Arsenal.

Anyways see you with the second chapter in a while and hopefully, a golden ticket chapter for all your efforts. Thanks for reading.