God Of football

Chapter 148: Fèliz Navidad

The match with Barcelona was the last of the matches for the first half of the season and the match between Barcelona and Valencia was also the last of matchday 19.

After 19 matches, the top 5 of the Laliga table looked like something:

Team. Mp. W D L pts Gd

1. Barca 19 15 3 1 48 31

2. Real. M 19 14 4 1 46 31

3. AT. Mrd 19 14 3 2 45 23

4. Valencia 19 13 4 2 43 27

5. Girona 19 13 2 4 41 19

Valencia sat 4th in a Champions League spot, should they keep it up till the end of the season.

This seating in the league table raised the spirits of the Valencian fans as they headed into the Christmas break cheerfully.

All they had to do was keep up the performances and they would have nothing to worry about.

Well, they won’t have much to worry about except for the news surrounding their 16-year-old, talent, Izan, who was said to be a target for a few top clubs from the Premier League, Seria A and the Bundesliga for the upcoming winter transfer window.

And with the recent news surrounding Barça’s interest, it wasn’t all candy canes and reindeer for the Valencia club which was working effectively to drive away any poaching under the orders of their chairperson.

Izan wasn’t the only target with prominent interest for Pietro, Mark and Javi Guerra as well as a few other players coming from leagues around the world.

The Valencia club didn’t want this but they had to start a few contract renewals with upgraded salary packages for the players in question.

.....

[25th]

The streets of Valencia were awash with the glow of festive lights, and a cool winter breeze swept through the air.

Inside the Hernandez family home, the atmosphere was warm and cheerful.

The faint scent of cinnamon and freshly baked cookies wafted through the air, mixing with the sounds of laughter and Christmas carols playing softly in the background.

For Izan, Christmas was a rare moment to step away from the pressures of football and immerse himself in the simple joys of family life.

He sat in the living room with his mom, Komi, his sister Hori and Miranda, who had arrived in Valencia a while ago to negotiate some dealings for Izan.

The house was a collage of festive chaos—half-wrapped presents, colourful tinsel draped over furniture, and a beautifully lit Christmas tree that stood proudly in the corner.

The day was spent in the kind of playful mischief that only family gatherings could bring. Izan and Hori were deep in a competitive game of charades, with Miranda acting as referee.

After a while, the doorbell rang. Izan, who was nearest, stood up and walked to the door. With a knowing smile, he opened the door and saw Olivia.

”[Feliz Navidad Izan] ” Olivia said as Izan opened the door. Izan just smiled before pulling her in for a hug.

”Miura, who’s at the door?” Komi sounded from the kitchen, but no response came. She came outside and found Izan hugging Miranda in the doorway.

”Get a room, you two”, Komi said, not missing a chance to get back at Izan. Izan held Olivia’s hands before dragging her in.

Olivia, who had just returned from her school activities the previous day joined the company in their games.

”Alright, Izan, your turn!” Hori grinned, handing her brother the next prompt.

Izan stood up, rolled his shoulders dramatically, and began miming his clue. It wasn’t long before the room erupted in laughter at his exaggerated gestures.

”Lionel Messi!” Miranda guessed between fits of giggles.

”Close!” Izan managed to say, still mid-performance.

”Cristiano Ronaldo?” Olivia tried, leaning forward with a determined look.

Komi, observing from her spot on the couch, couldn’t help but laugh. ”You all are hopeless! It’s clearly... a penguin?”

The room fell silent for a moment before everyone burst out laughing, even Izan. The wrong guesses only made the game more fun, and by the end, nobody really cared who won.

Later that evening, the family gathered in the kitchen to bake cookies and prepare a traditional Christmas dinner.

Miranda took charge of the recipe, while Komi provided gentle guidance to her children, who weren’t exactly culinary experts.

”Izan, that’s way too much flour!” Komi scolded playfully as he poured half a bag into the mixing bowl.

”It’s precision cooking, Mom,” Izan said with mock seriousness, earning a playful nudge from Hori.

”Precision disaster, more like it,” Hori teased, laughing as she sprinkled sugar over the countertop instead of the cookies.

Olivia, meanwhile, focused intently on decorating gingerbread men. Each one bore intricate details, with frosting scarves and buttoned-up jackets.

”Mine’s better than yours,” she declared, showing off her latest masterpiece to Izan, who responded by sneakily eating one of her cookies.

”Heyyy! That wasn’t for you,” Miranda said feigning slight anger. Izan, who knew what she was doing, didn’t succumb but rather took another one and ate.

Olivia chased after Izan for a bit before Izan suddenly turned and caught her falling to the couch. [Cue the Korean drama Music]

The duo looked at each other for a bit, intending to put lips on lips but Komi suddenly shoved a pillow between their faces.

Olivia blushed while Izan sighed. ”I said I wanted a grandson but you’re still too young. Give it a couple of years more” Komi said as she passed by.

The room was alive with chatter and laughter, the kind of noise that made the house feel more like a home.

As the evening wound down, Izan found a quiet moment to step away. With a cup of hot cocoa in hand, he sat by the fireplace and dialled his grandparents in Japan.

The phone rang a few times before his grandmother’s cheerful voice answered, ”Moshi Moshi! Izan-kun, Merry Christmas!”

”Merry Christmas, Obaa-chan!” Izan replied, his face lighting up at the sound of her voice.

The call quickly turned into a lively conversation, with his grandparents asking about everything from his recent matches to how tall he had grown.

His grandfather, always the practical one, offered advice about staying grounded despite his growing fame.

”Izan, remember,” his grandfather said in a firm yet kind tone, ”no matter how big the world thinks you are, never forget where you come from. Your family, your values—that is your strength.”

”I won’t forget, Jii-chan,” Izan said sincerely. ”I promise.”

The conversation turned lighter as his grandmother shared anecdotes about Christmas in Japan, describing the beautifully lit streets of Kyoto and the traditional Christmas cake she had prepared.

Izan couldn’t help but smile as he imagined his grandparents celebrating in their cosy home, half a world away.

”You must come visit us soon,” his grandmother insisted. ”We miss you so much.”

”I miss you too,” Izan replied, his voice soft. ”Maybe next summer?”

His grandparents agreed enthusiastically, and the call ended with heartfelt goodbyes and a final ”Merry Christmas!”

Back in the living room, the rest of the family was huddled around the tree, preparing to exchange gifts. Izan joined them, his heart full from the call with his grandparents.

They took turns opening presents, each unwrapping their carefully chosen gifts with delight. Hori opened hers to find a bracelet inside.

”How did you-” she said, but Izan cut her off. ”Grandad and Grandma”.

Hori squealed before quickly picking up her phone to call her old parents in Japan.

Izan’s gift was a framed photo of their family, taken during a rare day out at the beach earlier in the year.

The inscription on the back read, ”For Izan, to remind you of what matters most.”

”Thanks, Mom,” Izan said, his voice thick with emotion as he hugged her.

Komi smiled, brushing a stray tear from her cheek. ”You’ve given us so much to be proud of, Izan. This is just a little reminder that no matter how far you go, we’re always here for you.”

As the night wore on, the family settled into the cosy glow of the fireplace. Miranda told funny stories about her travels before sharing a few about Izan’s encounters with other players.

Izan listened with a smile, grateful for the simplicity of the moment.

For all the excitement surrounding his budding football career, it was nights like these that grounded him.

He realized that while the world outside might see him as a rising star, within these walls, he was just Izan—the son, the brother, the boy who loved playing charades and eating cookies.

The Hernandez family’s Christmas ended with a quiet prayer of gratitude led by Komi, each member silently reflecting on the blessings of the year.

As Izan lay in bed that night, staring at the framed photo on his bedside table, he felt a profound sense of peace.

This was his foundation, his sanctuary. No matter how far football took him, he knew that this—his family—would always be his greatest victory.

A/n: Have a nice Christmas