God Of football-Chapter 630: Finality

"This isn’t what I meant by outing," Izan muttered as he waved the door shut with his barely free hand, arms overflowing with glossy bags—paper, plastic, monogrammed.

"I miss wooden doors", he muttered as he staggered past the entry hall, narrowly avoiding one of the ambient lamps and dropping the first set of bags onto the hallway bench with a dull thump.

A second trip followed—more bags and then more clatter, followed by a sigh.

The living room had become a holding zone for shopping trophies: folded jackets, clutches, candles, tiny skincare jars with price tags still stuck to them.

Miranda walked past in heels, humming, holding her phone up to the light as she squinted at something.

Olivia followed behind, carrying only a coffee cup and laughing at something Hori had just said.

Komi, predictably, had vanished somewhere upstairs the second they walked in.

Izan stood in the middle of the chaos, arms akimbo.

"This was a casual day out," he said, mostly to himself.

"Not a siege on retail," he said, but no one answered.

He waved a lazy hand.

"If you won’t mind me, heading up. Need to get ready."

Miranda looked up.

"Want me to go with you?"

"No, no. Today’s probably the last one if things track like they said," he said casually, like he was reading off a training schedule.

"Then it’s a matter of prepping for the draw. Could happen this week."

Olivia tilted her head slightly.

"You think they’ll greenlight it?"

"They already said I’m a perfect match," he said, lifting a brow.

"This is just to give the kid a fighting shot after."

"Go be a hero," Hori said softly from the couch, half-buried in a pillow while showing Izan a thumbs up still.

Izan nodded and turned, picking up the water bottle he’d left near the hallway, and made his way toward the stairs again.

"Try not to buy a car while I’m gone," he said over his shoulder.

"We make no promises," Miranda called out dryly.

.....

[London General, Hospital]

Dr Selwood leaned slightly forward, scanning the final row of data flashing across his monitor as a pixelated progress bar filled.

A small confirmation tone chirped from the computer.

Then Selwood sat back with a long, slow exhale and turned toward the young man in the chair.

His sleeve was still half-rolled from the final dose.

"You’re through," Selwood said with a slow, genuine smile.

"That’s the last injection. Your counts are textbook. Stronger, even. We’re in a perfect place."

Izan glanced up, nodding once.

"So... that’s it?"

"For your part, yes," Selwood replied.

"Now it’s on Leo. He’s starting his pre-procedure conditioning. It’ll take a few more days. But from our side, we’re almost ready. It’s just a matter of final scheduling."

Izan reached for his hoodie and tugged it over one shoulder as he stood.

"I’ll come tomorrow," he said, his tone quiet but clear. "Miranda will be with me. We can finalise the date then. The sooner, the better. Not just for me—" he paused slightly, "—but for him."

Selwood watched him for a moment longer.

"Understood. Tomorrow morning, then."

A moment passed in stillness. Not awkward, just full.

Then Selwood glanced down the corridor behind him.

"Would you like to see him? Leo?"

Izan blinked once, slowly. "Is he awake?"

"He might be."

There was a long pause.

Izan looked toward the corridor, then toward the nearby ward.

The white door and the muted light above it, then he gave a short nod.

"I’ll stand outside. Don’t want to wake him. Or crowd anything."

Selwood nodded and started forward, Izan a few steps behind him.

They reached the hallway where the children’s ward was sealed off with quieter lighting and lighter foot traffic.

A nurse passed with a tablet and a smile, but said nothing.

Ahead of them, the door to Leo’s room sat half-closed.

Selwood was about to open it when—

"Dr. Selwood?"

A voice behind them, female, gentle and frayed slightly at the edges from a long week of little sleep.

Both men turned.

Leo’s mother stood just a few feet away, hands clasped nervously in front of her.

Her face was lined, not from age, but from days of worry and nights without rest.

Her eyes flicked to Selwood, then moved slowly toward Izan, causing her to stop.

It took her a full second longer to realise who she was looking at, and when she did, her lips parted slightly, as if she might say something.

But no words came.

Her eyes welled.

And then one tear slipped down her cheek, unprompted and quiet.

"I..." she tried, but her voice faltered.

Izan shook his head once, almost gently and gave her a small, tired smile.

She stepped forward anyway, close enough now that the words didn’t need to be heard by anyone else.

"Thank you," she said, voice barely above a whisper.

"For all of this. You didn’t have to. No one expected you to. But you did."

Her voice wavered again.

"I know you don’t want attention for it. I won’t say anything loud. But you need to know—my son might live... because of you."

Izan’s smile didn’t shift, just softened as he looked at the older woman in front.

"You need to smile more," he told her, voice just as quiet.

"Leo’s going to look at you, and he’s going to need strength. He already has enough fear. What he doesn’t need is doubt."

She bit her lip to stop the next tears and nodded quickly.

"Thank you," she whispered again.

Izan glanced once toward the narrow strip of glass in the door, saw a flicker of movement on the bed, and then took a step back.

"I need to go."

She didn’t stop him or prolong anything longer and just watched as he reached into his pocket, pulled up a black mask, and slipped it over his face.

Selwood gave him a nod.

"We’ll be ready tomorrow."

Izan returned it with one of his own.

"So will I."

Then he walked out.

The wind outside had picked up slightly as he stepped across the parking lot, the late afternoon light catching the gloss of his car as the engine quietly came alive.

Inside Leo’s room, the boy sat curled under a thick blanket, the soft whir of machines barely noticeable anymore.

He’d been staring out the window for the last few minutes, chin propped against one knee.

Then he saw it.

The Silver Koenigsegg easing out of the hospital’s exit, humming down the side street and away.

His eyes brightened as he seemed to recognise something.

A moment later, his mother entered quietly and walked over to the bed.

"You’re still crying," Leo said softly, tilting his head as he looked up at her.

She ruffled his hair with one hand, brushing another tear away with the back of her wrist.

"Just little tears," she said. "Happy ones."

Then she sat beside him and pulled him close, arms wrapped around his small shoulders.

And held him.

........

The lighting in Izan’s room was dimmed low, just the screen glow casting shifting blues across his face.

He was propped up against the headboard, hoodie still on, sleeves rolled to his elbows, his laptop perched across his thighs.

Three windows sat open on the group call.

"Yo," Lamine grinned, adjusting his camera.

"Guess who’s coming to London."

Nico leaned forward.

"Don’t say it like that. You sound like a villain."

Pedri snorted.

"I’m being serious," Lamine replied.

"Adidas boot promo. A few days’ shoot, mostly green screen and media days."

Izan blinked, then sat up slightly.

"Miranda mentioned something this morning."

He dragged a hand through his hair.

"Said Adidas had an event planned. I think it might be it"

"Well, it might or probably is," Lamine said. "And if you’re around, we’re linking. No excuses."

Izan smiled.

"If you’re coming, I’ll be there."

"Wow," Pedri said.

"So Adidas calls you. Adidas calls him. But not me?"

Lamine grinned wickedly. "Maybe it’s an under-02 thing."

"Bro, I don’t think that’s how they do stuff."

"Well, your name would’ve been part," Lamine said, then turned toward Nico.

"And you? Go hang with the Nike boys, man."

"Low blow," Nico muttered.

Pedri was still shaking his head.

"It’s because I don’t post enough. That’s what it is."

Izan chuckled.

"Or maybe it’s the hair. They want youthful curls."

"I have curls!" Pedri said, but before he could rant any further, Olivia popped her head into frame from behind Izan, arms wrapping lazily around his shoulders as she leaned in.

"What are you guys talking about?"

Lamine gasped.

"We’re interrupting. We are so interrupting."

"We should go," Pedri said, eyes wide with mock innocence.

"We wouldn’t want to take up any more of Izan’s time."

Nico was already laughing.

"Adiós."

The trio began terminating their videos, and soon, it was Izan staring at his reflection.

He tilted his head toward Olivia, who’d now collapsed beside him, stretching like a cat across the bed.

"They’re tactful," he muttered.

"They’re nosy," she replied.

Then she rolled over, straddled him in one smooth motion, and kissed him, slowly.

"You’re popular," she murmured, trailing another kiss across his jaw.

"But you’re mine."

Izan exhaled, hands finding her waist.

"I didn’t say I was going anywhere."

She smiled.

"Good."

A/N: Had a bit of time, so decided to whip this one out. Don’t worry, I will still add another for today. Have fun reading, and I’ll see you in a bit