Chapter 203: Time Away

Baraja sat in his modest office at Paterna, leaning back in his chair as he dialed José Gayà.

The Valencia coach knew this conversation was crucial—both tactically and emotionally.

His team was in the thick of the season, with every decision under scrutiny, but this one had to be handled delicately, especially as it involved Valencia’s lifeline.

When Gayà answered, his tone was relaxed but attentive. "Míster, everything okay?"

After Gaya picked up, Baraja wasted no time. "José, I’ve been thinking about our game in hand against Mallorca.

It’s just three days before the second leg of the Copa del Rey semifinal, and I want to manage our squad wisely.

I’ve decided to rest some of the key players for that match, including Izan."

Gayà paused for a moment, processing the news. Baraja continued, his voice firm but empathetic.

"Izan’s been phenomenal for us—no one can deny that but he’s still young.

He might not show it since he wants to play always but I don’t want to burn him out.

His performance in the first leg was incredible, but we’ll need him fresh and at his best for the second leg."

The captain nodded, even though Baraja couldn’t see him. "Makes sense, Míster. But Izan might take it hard. You know how much he thrives on being in the thick of the action."

Baraja smiled slightly, already anticipating the young player’s reaction. "That’s why I’m calling you, José. You’re the leader of this team, the leader most look up to.

I want you to explain it to him—make him understand that this is for the good of the team and his development.

Let him know I have complete faith in him and that he will start in the Copa match and as for the reason why I’m not telling him myself, I’m assuming you already know."

Gayà’s voice was steady, reassuring. "I’ll talk to him, Míster. I’ll make sure he understands. He’s young, but he’s mature beyond his years. He’ll get it."

Baraja exhaled, relieved. "Thanks, José. I knew I could count on you. Let him know how proud I am of him and that resting him isn’t about doubt—it’s about preserving his brilliance for the moments that matter most."

After hanging up, Baraja sat back, his mind already on the upcoming matches. He trusted Gayà to handle Izan’s emotions and knew the team captain’s bond with the young star would make all the difference.

For now, his job was to prepare the squad for the battles ahead.

...….:

The next morning, José Gayà stood at Paterna, leaning on the rail near the training ground.

The air was crisp, with the hum of early preparations drifting in the background. Pulling out his phone, he

dialed Izan’s number, knowing the conversation ahead required just the right balance of leadership and understanding.

"Buenos días, capitán," Izan answered cheerfully, his youthful energy unmistakable.

"Buenos días, crack," Gayà replied warmly. "How are you doing? Rested?"

"Yeah, I’m good. Just finished breakfast with Mom and Hori. What’s up?"

Gayà’s smile widened. He could hear the eagerness in the young star’s voice—always ready, always hungry for the next challenge.

"I had a conversation with the míster yesterday. He wanted me to pass on something important about the Mallorca game."

Izan’s tone shifted slightly, curious but cautious. "What about it?"

"The míster has decided to rest most of the key players for that game," Gayà began. "And that includes you."

He let the words sink in before continuing. "It’s a tactical choice. He wants you fresh and fully prepared for the second leg of the Copa del Rey semifinal.

You’re one of our most important players, Izan, No probably our most important player. He doesn’t want to risk overloading you before such a crucial match since we’re stable in the league"

Izan was silent for a beat, the initial surprise evident even through the phone. "I won’t even be on the bench?"

"That’s right," Gayà confirmed, his tone calm. "But don’t take it the wrong way. This isn’t about doubts—it’s about long-term thinking.

You’ve already shown your brilliance on the big stage, and the míster knows how much we’ll need you at your best for the semifinal. It’s a sign of how much he values you."

Izan exhaled, then, to Gayà’s surprise, let out a small laugh. "Honestly, I’m okay with that. It actually works out perfectly for me."

"Oh?" Gayà asked, intrigued. "Why’s that?"

"Well," Izan began, a hint of embarrassment in his voice, "I was thinking of asking for some time off anyway.

I have been planning to visit someone in Madrid and I’ve been putting it off because of the schedule. This is the perfect opportunity."

Gayà grinned, leaning against the railing. "Ah, Olivia," he teased lightly. "So that’s where your mind’s been.

That’s good too kid—sometimes taking a step back off the pitch helps you on it. She’s been good for you, hasn’t she?"

"Yeah," Izan admitted softly. "She helps me keep my head on straight with everything going on. I think I need this, even if it’s just for a day or two."

Gayà nodded, impressed by the maturity in Izan’s voice. "That sounds like a great plan. Balance is everything at this level, Izan.

Just make sure you use the time wisely—relax, recharge, and come back ready to give everything for the second leg. We’re counting on you."

"You don’t have to worry about that, captain," Izan said confidently. "I’ll be ready."

"I never doubted it," Gayà replied with a chuckle. "Enjoy Madrid—and Olivia—but remember, your best moments are still ahead of you on the pitch. If you need anything while you’re away, just call me."

"Thanks, José. I really appreciate it," Izan said sincerely.

As the call ended, Gayà stood for a moment, reflecting. Izan had taken the news better than expected, and his maturity shone through once again.

Baraja’s decision had unintentionally given the young star a chance to recharge—both physically and emotionally.

Now, all that remained was for Izan to channel that energy into the performance of his life in the crucial semifinal ahead.

...….

Izan stood in his room, packing his sleek black duffel bag for the trip to Madrid.

Leaning against the doorframe, Hori watched with a teasing grin. "So," she began, drawing the word out, "big date with Olivia?"

"It’s not a date," Izan said, not looking up. His tone was calm, but the faint blush creeping up his neck betrayed him.

Hori smirked, stepping into the room. "Right, because flying to Madrid just to see your ’not girlfriend’ is totally normal."

Before Izan could respond, Komi walked in with a folded scarf in her hand. "Don’t forget this," she said, setting it on top of his bag.

Then, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, she added, "And remember, Olivia probably sees enough headlines about you. Try not to end up in anymore while you’re there."

Izan groaned, zipping his bag with an exasperated sigh. "I’m not going to Madrid for drama, Mom. She’s been helping me through a lot, and I just… I just want to spend some time with her."

Komi softened, placing a hand on his shoulder. "We know, Izan. We’re just teasing. It’s good you have someone like Olivia in your corner. But remember, you’re still 16—enjoy this time without overthinking everything, okay?"

Izan nodded, slinging his duffel bag over his shoulder as his phone buzzed. It was a message from Miranda confirming the flight she’d booked for him. He glanced at the time—barely enough to get to the airport.

"Alright," he said, heading for the door. "I’ll call you when I land."

"Don’t forget to send Olivia our regards!" Hori called after him, her laughter following him down the hall.

At Valencia Airport, Izan tugged his hoodie over his head, pulled the strings tight, and slipped on a pair of sunglasses.

He was no stranger to the cameras or fans eager for a glimpse of their rising star. Today, though, he wanted no part of it.

He walked briskly, keeping his head down and his movements purposeful. The terminal was bustling, but he’d mastered the art of blending in—or at least trying to.

At the security checkpoint, he spotted a group of teenagers wearing Valencia jerseys and chatting animatedly. His heart skipped a beat, and he instinctively veered left, keeping as much distance as possible.

Handing over his boarding pass and ID, Izan offered the attendant a quick smile, hoping his sunglasses and slouched posture would keep her from connecting the dots.

She scanned the documents and waved him through without a second glance.

Once past security, Izan found a quiet corner near his gate and settled into a seat. Pulling out his phone, he typed a quick message to Olivia:

"All set. Can’t wait to see you."

Her reply came almost instantly:

"Me too! Safe flight"

He leaned back, a small smile tugging at his lips. For the first time in weeks, the constant pressure of being Valencia’s youngest star eased just a little.