The bus pulled up at the training ground, where players collected their cars to head home. Izan walked toward his own, greeted by Komi and Hori waiting for him.
His mother wrapped him in a tight hug, while his sister punched his arm playfully.
"Youâre a menace, you know that?" Hori grinned. "Youâve made half of Spain either love you or hate you tonight."
Izan chuckled. "Thatâs football."
As they got into the car, Komi placed a hand on his. "Weâre proud of you. No matter what happens next."
He nodded. No matter what happened next.
Because now, the footballing world was shifting its attention to something even bigger.
.....
The next morning, Valencia awoke to a new realityâone shaped by triumph, by history, by the name that now echoed across Spain and beyond.
Izan had done the impossible. At just 17, he had claimed the Pichichi Trophy, sharing the top scorer title with Gironaâs Artem Dovbyk at 24 goals, while also leading the league in assists with 17.
A season like this was unprecedented. A teenager, in his first full campaign at the top level, dominating La Liga from start to finish.
Mestalla was still standing, but barely. The city had shaken overnight, the streets flooded with jubilant fans, their chants, their fireworks, their disbelief turning into roars of celebration.
Valencia was back in the Champions League, and now, they had a superstar leading them into a new era.
And the footballing world had taken notice.
Headlines flooded sports media:
⢠MARCA: "Izan makes history: Youngest Pichichi in LaLiga history, Valenciaâs new icon."
⢠AS: "A Golden Boy season: Izan dominates La Liga at just 17."
⢠Mundo Deportivo: "Barcelona, Madrid, and Europe take noticeâCan Valencia keep Izan?"
⢠The Athletic: "Izanâs season by the numbers: A generational talent emerges."
Even LaLigaâs official Twitter account posted a tribute:
"HernĂĄndez Izan Miura. 17 years old. 24 goals. 17 assists. Youngest Pichichi ever. A season for the ages."
The response was immediate and Clubs, legends, punditsâall eyes turned to Valenciaâs crown jewel.
⢠Cesc FĂ bregas: "Izan is different. At 17, to dominate like this? Unreal. Future Ballon dâOr winner if he keeps this up."
⢠Rio Ferdinand: "Not many players have that it factor. Izan has it. A natural-born star."
⢠Gary Lineker: "This kid is special. To do what heâs done in La Liga, at this age? Phenomenal."
⢠Fernando Morientes: "Reminds me of the greats. Valencia has a diamond."
While the football world erupted, Izanâs Valencia teammates flooded social media with their own tributes.
JosĂŠ GayĂ (@JoseGaya_14): "What a season. This kid is special. We are lucky to have you, @IzanMiura!"
Javi Guerra (@JaviGuerra8): "We all knew he was crazy, but 24 goals and 17 assists?? Thatâs next level. Proud of you, hermano @IzanMiura."
Hugo GuillamĂłn (@HugoGuilla24): "Youngest Pichichi ever. If you donât respect his name now, I donât know what to tell you. @IzanMiura đĽ."
Even in the Valencia team chat, the messages poured in:
GayĂ : "Take a bow, Miura. Historic."
Thierry Correia: "Pichichi at 17? Insane. Dinner on you when we get back."
Mamadou Diakhaby: "If heâs like this at 17, imagine in five yearsâŚ"
Pepelu: "If you leave Valencia, we riot."
Izan, as always, kept it simple.
Izan: "Just getting started."
But It wasnât just Valencia. Other young starsâhis closest football friendsâalso sent their congratulations.
Pedri (@Pedri): "You keep breaking records, hermano. Time to celebrate soon. đđĽ"
Jude Bellingham (@BellinghamJude): "Absolute madness. Happy for you, bro. Enjoy it!"
Lamine Yamal (@Lamine_Yamal): "Pichichi at 17?! Wish I could do that. Nah, thatâs not normal. Letâs link up soon."
Antony7(@Antony7): Wow. Someoneâs here to challenge my throne.
As his phone kept buzzing, Izan finally posted his own message to the world.
Izan Miura (@IzanHernadez): "Pichichi. Assist leader. Champions League. History. Gracias, Valencia. This is just the beginning though so buckle up for another season"
The post explodedâmillions of likes, thousands of comments, the world reacting to the birth of footballâs next global superstar.
A day later, Izan was thousands of feet above the ground, watching the endless blue stretch beneath the plane.
Beside him, Komi was flipping through a magazine, while Hori had her headphones in, scrolling through her phone.
The flight to Tokyo was long, but Izan didnât mind. This wasnât just any tripâthis was home. His motherâs home.
His home, in a way. The place where his roots lay, even if Spain was where he had grown into the player the world now recognized.
He had been to Japan the year before but not like this. Not as the biggest name in Spanish football right now.
His phone vibrated in his hand. He glanced down. Olivia.
Olivia: Superstar. Canât believe youâre actually gone already.
Izan: You make it sound like I left for war.
Olivia: Might as well have. Feels like youâre gonna be gone forever.
He smirked, shaking his head. They had spent all of last night talking, yet she still made it seem like he had vanished off the planet.
Olivia: I shouldâve come with you.
Izan exhaled, adjusting his seat. They had talked about thisâshe wanted to come, but it wasnât possible this time.
Izan: Next time, Iâll bring you.
Olivia: Promise?
Izan: I promise.
There was a pause before she replied.
Olivia: Good. Because Iâm holding you to it.
He smiled, locking his phone and leaning his head back.
Tokyo was still hours away.
But he knewâthis trip wasnât just about rest. It was about something deeper.
Because when he returned?
The next battle awaited.
...âŚ..
The plane touched down at Narita International Airport just as the afternoon sun bathed the runway in golden light.
Izan stretched in his seat, rolling his shoulders as the announcement crackled overhead. Beside him, Hori blinked awake, rubbing her eyes, while Komi closed her magazine with a soft sigh.
"Finally," Hori muttered. "Longest flight of my life."
Izan smirked. "It wasnât that bad."
She shot him a glare. "Says the guy who slept for half of it."
As they disembarked, the familiar rush of warm, humid Tokyo air hit them. It was different from Spainâthicker, heavier, filled with a scent Izan couldnât quite place but had known since childhood.
Their grandparents were waiting just outside the arrival gates.
The moment Komi spotted them, her face softened, her eyes shining with something deep, something nostalgic.
"Kaasan," she whispered before quickly walking forward.
Their grandmother, a petite woman with silver-streaked hair, broke into a warm smile, pulling Komi into a tight embrace.
"HontĹ ni hisashiburi," she murmured. (Itâs been so long.)
Their grandfather stood behind her, taller, quieter, his expression unreadable for a momentâuntil he saw Izan. Then, a slow nod of approval.
Before they could continue, Izanâs grandmother roared. "Why are you acting like you are the main character of the novel? Come and hug your grandkids you old sag."
The words caused people to turn in their direction but Izanâs grandmother didnât care.
Their grandfather under the roar of their grandmother obediently approached and hugged them while looking at her wife like he wanted some sort of approval but she didnât bat an eye.
Komi and Hori laughed while Izan stood in the back, a smile etched on his face. With his family, he wasnât "Izan, the footballer" but a son, a brother, and a grandson.
...âŚ.
The drive through Tokyo felt naturalâlike slipping into a well-worn routine. They had been here just last year, but somehow, Japan always felt new and old at the same time.
Their grandparents welcomed them with warm smiles and familiar embraces, their small traditional house just as they had left it.
The wooden veranda, the neatly arranged tatami mats, the faint scent of tea brewing in the airâit was all the same.
"Youâve grown," their grandfather observed, eyeing Izan with his usual measured gaze.
Izan smirked. "You said that last year."
"And itâs still true," his grandmother chimed in, leading them inside while his grandfather shied away.
Izan looked at her grandfather, always admiring his interactions with his wife.
Komi moved through the house like she never left, touching old photo frames, adjusting small decorations, and falling back into childhood memories that still lingered in these walls.
Hori, already comfortable, stretched out on the veranda, letting the afternoon breeze wash over her.
Izan, however, took his time. This place was part of him, in a way, but not in the same way Valencia was. It was quieter here. A different kind of home.
As he stood in the doorway, his phone buzzed.
Olivia.
Olivia: Landed?
Izan: Yeah. Just got to my grandparentsâ place.
Olivia: Lucky. Wish I was there.
Izan: I meant what I said. Next time, Iâll bring you.
Olivia: Okay
Izan smirked, pocketing his phone.
For now, he would enjoy this time with his family.
Because soon enough, the world would be waiting for him again.
A/n: Good evening reader. Sorry but today will be a one chapter release. I had a lot of stuff to do and my stockpile got finished so I couldnât update twice. Anyways Iâll try to make it up before the week ends. Have fun reading and Iâll see ya