T/N:I know a lot of you aren't a fan of the whole Arsene Wenger's Alzheimer's thing, me included. I would have loved to edit it out, but it is integral to the story, and I am currently working on other stories while also in school. I don't really have the time and energy for it.
. . .
The 2014-15 season came to a close with Arsenal standing on top of Europe.
The Champions League trophy finally belonged to Arsenal.
For the club, for the players, and especially for the supporters, it was the perfect ending to a remarkable campaign.
Of course, there was still a sense of regret.
Arsenal had lost the Premier League title race and failed to complete a historic double.
But compared to the disappointment of losing the league, the joy of winning the Champions League far outweighed everything else.
After all, Arsenal fans had spent decades chasing this trophy.
League titles had come before.
FA Cups had come before.
But the Champions League had always remained just beyond reach.
Now it was theirs.
For many supporters, this single trophy meant more than several league titles combined.
Because this was history.
This was immortality.
Looking back on the season as a whole, Arsenal's path had been anything but smooth.
There were injuries.
There were setbacks.
There were difficult defeats.
There were periods when the team looked vulnerable.
Even their league near-miss exposed a few of the weaknesses that still existed within the squad.
Despite being crowned Champions of Europe, Arsenal were not yet a truly dominant force.
They were not Barcelona.
They were not Real Madrid.
They were not Bayern Munich.
Those clubs possessed the kind of depth and consistency that allowed them to control Europe year after year.
Arsenal had not yet reached that level.
But nobody doubted their direction.
Most observers agreed on one thing.
This was only the beginning.
The average age of the squad was incredibly young.
The core of the team had years ahead of them.
And with a Champions League title already in hand, Arsenal suddenly looked capable of building something special.
The celebrations had barely ended before work began.
The first day of the summer holiday marked the beginning of another battle.
The transfer market.
Winning the Champions League had dramatically increased Arsenal's reputation across Europe.
At the same time, it had made their players even more attractive to rival clubs.
One after another, offers began arriving at the Emirates.
Fortunately for Arsenal, the situation was far healthier than in previous years.
The club paid competitive wages.
The atmosphere inside the squad was excellent.
Most importantly, Arsenal were winning.
Very few players wanted to leave a team that had just conquered Europe.
One of the biggest stories involved Luis Suárez.
Barcelona had identified the Uruguayan striker as a priority target.
The relationship between Arsenal and Barcelona had always been complicated.
For years, Arsenal supporters had watched Barcelona lure away some of their best players. The scars of previous transfers had never fully healed.
Adding fuel to the rumours was the fact that Suárez's representative was Pere Guardiola Sala, a man with extremely strong connections inside Barcelona.
The Spanish giants were working hard behind the scenes. After an underwhelming campaign in attack, Barcelona wanted an elite centre-forward to lead their next generation.
Suárez fit perfectly.
But there was one problem. Suárez himself had no interest in leaving. After winning the Champions League with Arsenal, he felt a strong connection to the club.
He loved the dressing room.
He loved the project.
And he believed Arsenal could achieve even more in the coming years.
As long as Suárez remained firm, Barcelona's pursuit would go nowhere.
The situation involving Ángel Di María was considerably more complicated. Paris Saint-Germain had launched an aggressive pursuit of the Argentine winger.
The French champions were prepared to spend heavily.
The transfer fee offered to Arsenal was significant.
Significant enough to make even Arsenal hesitate.
At the same time, PSG's salary proposal dwarfed Arsenal's offer. For a player approaching the latter stages of his prime, the financial difference was impossible to ignore. Di María began to seriously consider the move.
Negotiations remained ongoing.
Neither side had reached a final decision.
Then there was Le Kai. Virtually every European giant had made enquiries.
Manchester City.
Bayern Munich.
Real Madrid.
Barcelona.
Paris Saint-Germain.
Every few days, another offer seemed to arrive.
And each offer was larger than the last.
Arsenal's response never changed.
Not for sale.
Le Kai had become the face of the club.
The captain.
The leader.
The soul.
The foundation of Arsenal's future.
Selling him was not even a topic of discussion.
More importantly, Le Kai himself had publicly stated that he had no desire to leave North London.
The result left Europe's biggest clubs frustrated and helpless.
Money could not buy everything.
Unfortunately, not all the news during the summer was positive.
The biggest blow concerned Santi Cazorla. During the Champions League Final, Cazorla had been forced off through injury.
At the time, most people believed it was simply a precaution.
The coaching staff had remained deliberately vague. Only after the celebrations ended did the full extent of the damage become public.
A severe ankle injury.
An Achilles tendon rupture.
Either injury alone could threaten a player's career.
Cazorla had suffered both.
The diagnosis shocked the entire club.
Le Kai was particularly devastated. Over the previous years, he had done everything possible to help Cazorla improve his physical condition.
Extra training.
Recovery sessions.
Strength work.
Yet fate had still struck.
No one knew exactly what the future held.
But one thing seemed certain.
Cazorla would miss most, if not all, of the following season.
The injury created another problem.
His contract was about to expire.
An injured player entering free agency was one of the most uncomfortable situations in football.
Many clubs would move on.
When Le Kai visited Cazorla in the hospital, he immediately raised the issue.
According to several teammates, he even joked that if Arsenal refused to renew Cazorla's contract, he would personally overturn Wenger's desk.
Fortunately, the threat never became necessary.
Wenger moved quickly.
Arsenal offered Cazorla a new contract despite his injury.
The club would stand by one of its most loyal servants.
When Kai heard the news, he finally relaxed.
At least one problem had been solved.
But while Arsenal were fighting to keep some players, others were preparing to leave.
. . .
Inside Le Kai's villa, the atmosphere was unusually quiet.
Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain sat on the sofa, avoiding eye contact.
He looked uncomfortable.
Almost guilty.
Le Kai noticed immediately.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"Liverpool made an offer?"
Chamberlain nodded.
The silence lasted several seconds.
Finally, he looked up.
His expression was complicated.
Uncertain.
Conflicted.
"Tell me honestly."
"Do you think I should leave?"
The question hung heavily in the room.
And for the first time all summer, Le Kai found himself struggling to answer.
The answer seemed simple, yet it wasn't.
As a friend, Le Kai didn't want Chamberlain to leave.
They had spent four years together.
Four years of training sessions, victories, defeats, injuries, and celebrations.
They had arrived at Arsenal at almost the same time and grown together within the club.
But as a teammate and a professional footballer, Kai knew staying might not be the best choice for Chamberlain.
The reality was cruel.
If Chamberlain remained at Arsenal, his opportunities would become even more limited.
A transfer might be the better path.
Chamberlain understood the conflict in Kai's mind.
After a moment of silence, he lowered his head and smiled bitterly.
"I still felt like I should tell you first."
Le Kai nodded.
Among all the players in Arsenal's dressing room, nobody was closer to Chamberlain than he was. The two had experienced almost everything together.
In many ways, Chamberlain had also benefited from their friendship.
Although he wasn't a guaranteed starter and rarely occupied a key tactical role, his position inside the dressing room had always been secure.
The senior players respected him.
The starters were willing to involve him.
Even during matches, he often received support and trust that many squad players never enjoyed.
A large part of that came from Kai. Everyone knew how close the two were. Nobody wanted to create unnecessary friction with the captain's closest friend.
Unfortunately, friendship could not change footballing reality.
Chamberlain had never truly established himself as a core player.
Le Kai leaned back against the sofa.
"Did Klopp speak to you personally?"
Chamberlain shook his head.
"No."
Kai frowned.
"He called you?"
Again, Chamberlain shook his head.
"No."
Kai immediately sat upright.
"Then what are you doing?"
His voice rose slightly.
"You want to transfer without even receiving a promise from the manager?"
"Are you gambling with your career?"
Chamberlain remained silent.
Several seconds passed before he finally looked up.
His eyes carried a trace of helplessness.
"Do you think I'm in a position to make demands?"
The room suddenly fell quiet.
Kai opened his mouth.
Then closed it again.
Because Chamberlain was right.
Their situations were completely different. If Kai ever entered the transfer market, Europe would descend into chaos. Every giant club would fight for his signature.
He could demand a starting role.
He could demand tactical authority.
He could even demand to be the centerpiece of a project.
And many clubs would gladly agree.
Because he had proven he was worth it.
Chamberlain hadn't.
Liverpool saw potential.
Liverpool saw a player who could still develop.
But they weren't chasing a superstar.
They were taking a chance.
A gamble.
And gamblers didn't get to set conditions.
They simply accepted the opportunity and tried to succeed.
Le Kai sighed deeply.
His irritation disappeared.
Replacing it was understanding.
"It sounds like you've already made up your mind."
Chamberlain nodded immediately.
"Yes."
His answer carried no hesitation.
"I want to leave."
Kai stared at him for a long moment before finally nodding.
"I understand."
Professional football was like that.
Players arrived.
Players left.
Friendships remained, but teammates rarely stayed together forever.
Even the closest friends could one day become opponents standing on opposite sides of the pitch. Neither of them spoke much after that.
The decision had already been made.
Words wouldn't change anything.
When Chamberlain eventually left the villa, Kai stood alone in the living room.
The silence felt strangely uncomfortable.
He wasn't sad.
At least not entirely.
But there was a sense of emptiness.
A feeling that something familiar was beginning to disappear.
And Chamberlain probably wouldn't be the last.
Bacary Sagna was likely heading toward the exit as well.
Mikel Arteta.
Tomáš Rosický.
Theo Walcott.
Several veterans were approaching the end of their Arsenal journeys.
The squad was entering a new era.
Whether that transition would happen gradually or all at once remained unclear.
The biggest concern remained the full-back positions.
Both starters were aging.
Arsenal needed replacements.
Calum Chambers?
Héctor Bellerín?
Were they ready?
Could they carry the responsibility?
Le Kai rubbed his forehead.
Those decisions belonged to Wenger and the recruitment department.
His job was to play football.
All he could do was hope Arsenal chose wisely.
The summer holiday officially began soon afterward. Most Arsenal players immediately disappeared to beaches, resorts, and tourist destinations around the world.
Le Kai remained exactly where he was.
London Colney.
Training ground.
Football.
His routine never changed.
Last season, he had shown flashes of becoming Arsenal's offensive focal point.
The coaching staff had deliberately slowed that transition because the Champions League campaign required stability.
Now things were different.
Starting next season, Wenger intended to place even greater responsibility on his shoulders.
The captain would become the team's true tactical core.
To prepare for that role, Le Kai refused to waste a single day.
Unfortunately, his decision affected another person.
Pat Rice.
The veteran coach stared at him with a look of pure annoyance.
"Why exactly am I spending my holiday with you?"
Le Kai laughed awkwardly.
"For Arsenal?"
Pat gave him a look that suggested violence might soon occur.
Nearby, equipment manager Jason struggled to suppress his laughter.
Just yesterday, Pat had enthusiastically declared that he would personally help train Le Kai during the summer.
Today, he looked like a hostage.
Jason shook his head.
"You two enjoy yourselves."
Then he held up a set of keys.
"Who's keeping these?"
Without hesitation, Kai raised his hand.
"Me."
Jason tossed the keys over.
Kai caught them cleanly and slipped them into his pocket.
Jason immediately turned and headed for the parking lot before either of them could change his mind.
The training ground gradually fell silent.
One by one, the staff members departed.
Soon, only two figures remained.
The captain.
And the old coach.
Le Kai grabbed a football and tucked it under his arm.
He turned toward Pat and grinned.
"So..."
"Where do we start?"
Pat stared at him for several seconds.
Then he cracked his knuckles.
A dangerous smile slowly appeared on his face.
"Since you're so energetic..."
"We'll start with running."
Le Kai's smile instantly disappeared.
Pat's laughter echoed across the empty training ground.
For the first time that day, he was genuinely enjoying his holiday.
. . .
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