[Winter's Pasta]
Mrs. Winter's signature pasta salad was always a favorite. Unlike the usual sweet-and-sour versions, hers had a subtle, savory touch that hit just right after a long day of training.
Chamberlain dug into his steaming plate with enthusiasm, clearly savoring every bite.
Mrs. Winter's shop wasn't far from Arsenal's training base. Thanks to Arsenal's strict dietary requirements, her place had quietly become a go-to spot for the players.
Kai had ordered a plate too, sitting across from Chamberlain.
"The atmosphere in the team is just terrible," Chamberlain muttered between bites.
Kai smiled slightly. "Where's this coming from?"
Chamberlain sighed. "You think it'll get worse?"
Kai shook his head. "It'll get better. Give it time."
"That's good to hear," Chamberlain replied, visibly relieved. "Honestly, I feel like I can't even breathe on the training ground. No one says a word—how can they not find that uncomfortable?"
Kai said nothing, only giving Chamberlain a sideways glance before returning to his meal.
Trying to shift gears, Chamberlain added, "Vermaelen's something else. I haven't gotten past him once!"
Kai raised an eyebrow. "Between me and him, who gives you a harder time?"
Chamberlain paused to think, then answered, "Vermaelen."
Quickly, he explained, "He's constantly pushing and leaning into me. I can't deal with it. You don't play like that. You're more... composed."
"My positioning is good enough that I don't need to be overly physical," Kai replied. "It conserves energy, lets me cover more ground."
It wasn't that Kai avoided contact—he just saved his stamina for when it mattered. Still, he knew he couldn't rely on that forever.
After a moment of reflection, Kai said thoughtfully, "Starting tomorrow, I'm ramping up my strength training. Holding the ball under pressure is something I need to improve."
That idea had been simmering in his mind ever since he struggled to bypass Arteta in training.
In the Premier League, a player had to be able to handle physical pressure. Resilience was non-negotiable.
As their conversation meandered into lighter topics, they finished their meals and said their goodbyes.
...
Walking home, Kai bounced a ball along the road.
His touch was improving—months of training were starting to pay off. As he walked and played, his thoughts turned to development.
Right now, his defensive instincts and passing range were strong.
His ability to intercept and tackle was well above average—good enough for the Premier League, as long as he avoided full-contact battles.
But that conversation with Chamberlain made one thing clear: strength was still a weakness.
He needed to bulk up, build muscle, and train for contact. Premier League defenders didn't go easy on anyone.
Still, he reminded himself not to overdo it. He was still growing, and it wouldn't help to overload his frame too quickly.
As for the future? If Wenger gave him the time and backing, Kai wouldn't mind developing his playmaking skills to become a complete midfielder.
But that was later.
Right now, the priority was building strength, increasing pace, and learning how to retain the ball under pressure.
Before he knew it, Kai had arrived at Billy's house. He slipped the ball into his bag and pushed open the door.
Just as he stepped inside, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway.
Kevin appeared, skidding to a stop in front of him.
Kai's eyes widened.
Kevin's face was bruised and swollen—one side puffed up and tinged purple.
And yet, the boy was smiling.
It looked painful. His lips twitched every time he grinned. But the grin stayed.
"I did it!" Kevin exclaimed. "I stared one of them down and fought back! He was weaker than I thought. I made his head bleed! I was scared, but they ran—and I won!"
The little guy beamed with pride.
Then he looked up at Kai, eyes full of expectation.
Kai turned to look behind him.
Billy and his wife were on the couch, arm in arm, watching with quiet pride.
Billy smiled. "That's the first time Kevin's stood up for himself. He said he got the courage from you."
Kai raised his hands quickly. "Wait, I didn't tell him to fight! I just… I might've said something about 'staring someone down'..."
His voice faded as guilt crept in.
Because, well… he had said that.
Elena walked over and hugged him gently.
"Thank you, Kai," she said softly. "We're proud of Kevin. We don't encourage violence, but sometimes, standing up for yourself takes real courage. And you gave him that."
Billy added, "We would've never known Kevin was being bullied if not for your help. Thank you."
"I…" Kai laughed, a little embarrassed. He looked down at Kevin, who was still beaming, and finally sighed. "Alright, alright. You did well."
"Awesome!"
Kevin jumped with joy.
Everyone laughed, the tension melting into warmth.
Later, Elena served another hearty dinner.
Kai needed the calories—muscle growth meant eating more, after all.
After their family prayer, they dug into the meal. Billy chatted with Kai about training.
When he heard Kai had made it into the formal training group, Billy declared he'd toast with a shot of liquor.
Kai, naturally, raised his glass of water.
The conversation eventually shifted to upcoming matches.
Billy had high hopes for Arsenal, especially for their next home game against Liverpool.
After dinner, everyone helped clean up before heading to their rooms for the night.