Chapter 5 : A Day Out

"Okay, but why does the ball move like that?" she finally asked, turning to Nico. "I mean, I've seen knuckleballs, curve shots, dip shots—but this? The ball looked like it was dancing in the air."

Nico chuckled, walking over to pick up the ball. He spun it in his hands, the late afternoon sun glinting off its surface. "It's all about the way I hit it," he explained, placing the ball back on the ground. "Most free kicks use spin to curve—like how a regular curled free kick wraps around a wall. A knuckleball, on the other hand, has minimal spin, which makes it unpredictable. But The Invisible Hand—" he paused for effect, enjoying the way Aitana narrowed her eyes at the dramatic delivery. "It's different."

Aitana crossed her arms, unimpressed. "Obviously. Get to the point, professor."

Nico smirked. "Fine. When I strike the ball, I aim for a specific spot—slightly off-center but not enough to make it spin. The key is in the follow-through. Instead of a straight or curling motion, I cut across the ball at an angle while keeping my foot firm. That way, when the ball moves through the air, the turbulence on either side creates an uneven airflow."

Aitana blinked. "…Which means?"

Nico grinned. "Which means the ball wobbles unpredictably. It's not following a normal curve or dip—it's reacting to the pressure around it, moving left and right in the air as if an invisible hand is guiding it."

Aitana's jaw dropped slightly. "So… you're manipulating the air?"

"In a way, yeah," Nico said, nodding. "It's the same principle as an S-shaped free kick—if you hit the ball with just the right force and precision, you can make it move like that."

Aitana crouched next to the ball, examining it as if expecting to find some secret mechanism inside. "But how do you control it? It looked so perfect."

Nico shrugged. "That's the hardest part. The wobble isn't entirely predictable. You have to get a feel for it, adjust your strike based on the conditions—wind, ball placement, even the stadium atmosphere. And a lot of practice."

Aitana stood up and pointed at him. "Then teach me."

Nico raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you say you regretted asking me for help five minutes ago?"

Aitana groaned. "I take it back. This is way too cool not to learn."

Nico chuckled and tossed her the ball. "Alright, then. First lesson—hit the ball without making it spin."

As Aitana lined up her shot, determination burning in her eyes, Nico couldn't help but smile. Maybe having a student wasn't so bad after all.

___________

As the sky dimmed into shades of orange and purple, Nico and Aitana stood on the field, surrounded by scattered footballs. Aitana wiped the sweat off her forehead, frowning slightly.

"I have to go home now," Nico said, stretching his arms above his head.

Aitana sighed, glancing at the ball at her feet. "I still haven't gotten it right," she muttered, frustration evident in her voice.

Nico noticed her expression and chuckled. "If you're that serious about learning, I always practice free kicks from 5:00 to 7:30 at this same ground. Every single day." He smirked. "You can join me if you want to."

Aitana's face lit up. "Really? You won't mind?"

Nico shrugged. "Not at all."

Aitana grinned, then hesitated before asking, "Do you want anything in return?"

Nico thought for a second, then smiled. "Yeah. Be my friend."

Aitana blinked. "Huh?"

"You know, I don't really have friends," Nico admitted. "I've been playing with the U-19s since I was 12. Everyone's way older than me, so I never really got close to anyone. Most of them see me as a kid, even though I'm on the same team."

Aitana stared at him for a moment before laughing softly. "That's funny. I don't have friends my age either. I play for the U-16s, so I'm always with older girls."

Nico extended his hand. "Then let's change that."

Aitana grinned and shook his hand firmly. "Deal."

___________

Over the past year, something had started to change between them. Neither of them spoke about it, but it was there—lingering in the quiet moments, woven into stolen glances and playful teasing.

Nico's POV

At first, it was nothing. Just routine. Just another part of his structured, disciplined life. Aitana was simply someone who joined him for training. But as days turned to weeks and weeks into months, he found himself looking forward to their early morning sessions more than anything else.

It wasn't just the way she listened intently when he explained something, or how determined she was to perfect the Invisible Hand. It was the way she scrunched her nose when she messed up a shot. The way she laughed when he teased her. The way she celebrated when she finally got something right.

And slowly, he started noticing things about her outside of football. Like how she always tied her laces the exact same way before a shot. Or how she would tap the ball twice before a free kick. Little things that made her her.

At some point, he had stopped thinking of her as just someone he trained with. And that realization terrified him.

Because Nico Cryuff didn't have time for distractions. Not when he was destined to be the best in the world. Not when he had given up everything else for football.

But then she would smile at him, and suddenly, none of that seemed to matter.

Aitana's POV

Aitana didn't know when it started either. Maybe it was when he first called her his friend. Or when he smirked at her after a perfect free kick and said, "Not bad." Maybe it was just the way he was—driven, talented, annoyingly good at everything, but still patient enough to help her improve.

At first, it was admiration. Respect. Nico was unlike anyone she had ever met. He was special, and not just because of his talent. He had this presence—like he knew exactly where he was going, and nothing in the world could stop him.

And yet, despite all of that, he never acted like he was better than her. He never treated her like she was just some girl trying to play football. He treated her like an equal.

Somewhere along the way, admiration turned into something else. Something dangerous.

She started noticing little things about him—how his emerald green eyes seemed to glow under the floodlights, how he always stretched the same way before a shot, how his smirk was somehow both cocky and endearing at the same time.

She knew she shouldn't be feeling this way. She was supposed to be focused. She had dreams of her own. But every morning, when she saw him standing there, waiting for her, she felt like she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

But just like Nico, she never said a word.

____________

The sky above them was painted in hues of soft orange and pink, the last remnants of the sunrise fading into the morning light. The two lay side by side on the cool grass of the training ground, catching their breath after an intense session. The familiar scent of freshly cut grass mixed with the lingering adrenaline in their veins.

Nico exhaled, his chest rising and falling as he turned his head slightly toward Aitana. His silky black hair clung to his forehead from sweat, but his emerald-green eyes still held that same quiet intensity.

"I got some good news today," he said casually, but there was something in his tone—something that made Aitana glance at him, curious.

She propped herself up on one elbow, looking at him expectantly. "What is it?"

Nico smirked slightly, letting the suspense hang in the air for a second before finally answering.

"I'll be training with the first team from tomorrow."

Aitana's eyes widened, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten. "Wait—what?"

Nico chuckled at her reaction. "You heard me. Starting tomorrow, I'm moving up to train with the senior team."

For a moment, Aitana just stared at him, processing what he had said. Then, as if something clicked, a huge smile spread across her face.

"Nico, that's amazing!" she practically shouted, sitting up fully now. She grabbed his arm and shook it excitedly. "That's huge! You're just thirteen, and you're already going to be training with the first team? That's insane!"

He laughed, shrugging slightly. "Well, I guess they think I'm ready."

"Of course, you're ready," she shot back without hesitation. "You've been better than everyone at La Masia for years. This was only a matter of time."

Hearing her say it so confidently made something warm settle in Nico's chest. He didn't usually let praise get to him, but coming from her, it felt different. Special.

"Thanks," he said, his voice softer now.

Aitana leaned back down on the grass, a satisfied sigh escaping her lips. "At this rate, you'll be playing in Camp Nou before you even turn fifteen."

Nico smirked, his gaze drifting back to the sky. "That's the plan."

________

Aitana sat up again, resting her arms on her knees as she looked at him with a playful smile. "So… are we going out to celebrate or what?"

Nico raised an eyebrow. "Celebrate?"

"Yeah, you know—do something fun. It's a big day for you, and you can't just go home like it's nothing."

Nico thought about it for a second before nodding. "Sure, let's go."

Aitana grinned. "Great. Let's get cleaned up first."

They both made their way to the changing rooms, the exhaustion from training still lingering in their legs. Nico stepped into the shower, letting the warm water wash away the sweat and fatigue. He took his time, enjoying the moment of quiet, but his mind kept drifting back to Aitana.

After changing into fresh Barcelona tracksuits, they met outside. Nico had his nutritionist-prepared meal package delivered to him, as always. He stuffed it into his bag, knowing he'd still have to follow his diet no matter what.

"So, where to?" he asked as they started walking.

Aitana pointed ahead. "There's a place nearby that has some good food. We can grab something and eat at the park."

Nico chuckled. "You really thought this through, huh?"

She shrugged. "Of course. You're the future of Barcelona—I gotta make sure you celebrate properly."

_________

Aitana unwrapped her burrito, the warm aroma of seasoned meat, melted cheese, and spices filling the air. She took a big bite, humming in satisfaction as the flavors exploded in her mouth.

Meanwhile, Nico opened his nutritionist-prepared meal. It was the usual—grilled chicken breast, steamed vegetables, and quinoa. Nothing too flavorful, nothing too exciting. Just fuel for his body.

As she chewed, Aitana's eyes flickered to his plate. She frowned. "Wait… that's what you're eating?"

Nico, already halfway through his meal, nodded. "Yeah, what about it?"

She squinted at it. "That looks so… plain."

"It's healthy."

"It looks like punishment."

Aitana leaned forward slightly, curiosity in her gaze. "Let me try it."

Nico raised an eyebrow. "You really wanna do this?"

"Just a bite. I need to know what you suffer through every day."

With an amused smirk, Nico cut a small piece of chicken with his fork and held it up to her mouth. Aitana hesitated for a second before leaning in and taking the bite. The moment the bland, dry chicken hit her tongue, her face twisted in immediate regret.

"Blegh!" She scrunched her nose and quickly grabbed her burrito for salvation. "This tastes like cardboard! Are you serious? You eat this every day?"

Nico chuckled, taking another bite like it was nothing. "Didn't I already tell you? I only eat meals from my nutritionist."

Aitana shook her head in disbelief. "Yeah, you did tell me, but I didn't know you were actually eating this every day." She looked at his meal again, almost feeling sorry for him.

After a moment of silence, she asked, "How long have you been eating like this?"

Nico thought about it for a second before answering casually, "Since I was five, I believe."

Her jaw nearly dropped. "Five?! You've been living like this since you were five?"

Nico simply nodded, as if it wasn't a big deal.

________

Aitana stared at him, curiosity deep in her brown eyes. She had always known Nico was different. He was relentless, disciplined to an extreme, but she had never asked him why. Not like this.

"Why are you so strict with yourself?" she finally asked, tilting her head. "I've never seen you slack off, never seen you miss a day of training. Not even once."

Nico paused, staring at his half-eaten meal. The park was quiet except for the distant chatter of people and the rustling of leaves in the evening breeze.

"I think it was when I was five," he started, his voice softer than usual. "I was playing with my grandpa, just like we did every day. Then, out of nowhere, he asked me if I wanted to be the best player in the world."

Aitana listened intently, sensing the weight of his words.

"I told him I did. I really, really did. And then he looked me straight in the eye and said… Many have talent, but what many lack is spirit and the will to work hard. Talent alone won't make you great."

Nico took a deep breath before continuing. "Then he told me something I'll never forget. He said—"

"'If you have the talent to be the best in the world, it is a sin to football if you don't work hard to fulfill it.'"

Aitana felt a chill run down her spine. She had heard inspiring words before, but this was different. This was a belief—a truth Nico had built his entire life around.

She looked at him, truly looked at him, and realized something. Nico wasn't just chasing greatness. He was carrying a responsibility, a duty to the game itself.