BBC Sport:
"Arsenal Clinch FA Cup After Seven-Year Wait"
Sky Sports:
"Kai Delivers as Arsenal Edge City in FA Cup Classic"
The Guardian:
"Resurgent Arsenal Lift FA Cup Amid Injury Struggles and Youth Brilliance"
The Daily Telegraph:
"Wenger's Arsenal Triumph at Wembley as Kai Shines Brightest"
The Sun:
"GUNNER BELIEVE IT! Kai Fires Arsenal to Wembley Triumph!"
Daily Mail:
"Kai the Conqueror! Arsenal's Teen Star Seals FA Cup Glory"
The following morning, the news spread like wildfire across England—and beyond.
Arsenal had won the FA Cup for the first time in seven years.
Despite a rocky start to the season and a wave of injuries midway through, the Gunners showed remarkable resilience to lift the trophy.
This Arsenal side had surprised everyone—and made many take notice.
Of course, the player attracting the most attention was undoubtedly Kai.
Arsenal's No. 4 had become a hot topic across European media and Premier League circles alike.
Two assists and a decisive penalty in the shootout—Kai's impact in the final was immense.
But it wasn't just those headline moments. Kai's overall performance was stellar, his match statistics lighting up the analyst reports.
He was named Man of the Match, scoring a perfect 10 in the final.
A 19-year-old named Player of the Match in an FA Cup final—this was no longer a conversation about potential.
Kai had been exceptional all season since becoming a regular starter.
Especially on the defensive end—he had become Arsenal's wall.
Naturally, his performance caught the eye of top clubs across Europe.
Several giants had already begun probing for a transfer.
But they hit a wall almost immediately.
Within minutes of the first offer, Arsenal's response was emphatic:
"NO."
It was firm and unequivocal.
And they didn't even bother informing Kai. Under the terms of his contract, the club could reject any bid under £50 million without consulting him.
Given the current midfield market, no club was about to throw £50 million at a teenager—even one who had just bossed the FA Cup final.
Even so, Arsenal's message was clear.
...
Back at the apartment, Billy had been celebrating nonstop.
"We're champions! We're invincible! This is the Emirates, baby! We've got Kai! He's Arsenal's Great Wall!"
Billy had taken to composing his bizarre chants in the living room—Kai wasn't sure if they were real songs or just something Billy made up on the fly.
Billy even slept with Kai's medal the first night, only returning it the next morning.
At one point, he tried to take Kai's jersey from the final too, but that crossed the line.
It was Kai's first major trophy. The kit, the ball—he was keeping all of it.
Dressed and ready to head to the training ground, Kai called out, "Hey, Billy! I'm off to the training ground for breakfast. Let Elena know for me, yeah?"
Billy poked his head out from the living room, "Need me to give you a lift?"
Kai blinked. "Nah, it's only five clicks. I'll jog."
Billy frowned, stepping closer. "No, no, no! That won't do. What's going on with your legs?"
Kai paused. "What?"
Billy pointed. "The muscle tape. Don't think we didn't see it—players only wear that stuff if they've got muscle issues. So, what's up?"
Kai instinctively stepped back on his right leg. "It's nothing."
Billy didn't budge. "You've been carrying knocks. Every fan saw that muscle tape during the match. And honestly? Everyone's worried."
They had a point.
From the fourth round of the season onward, Kai had been playing almost every match—the league, Champions League, and FA Cup. When players like Cazorla went down injured, Kai kept running to plug the gaps.
He was only 19.
It was a lot for a teenager to carry.
Kai sighed. "Alright, alright. Give me a ride. But seriously, I feel fine."
Billy didn't argue. He just grabbed the keys and ushered Kai to the car.
...
At the training ground, Kai underwent a check-up with the team doctor, Gary O'Driscoll, under the watch of Wenger and Pat Rice.
Levin, the club's doctor, delivered the report.
"No signs of worsening strain, but he's still at risk. I recommend rest and focus on flexibility work for now."
Wenger and Pat both turned to Kai.
Kai shrugged. "Honestly, I feel okay. I think I can still give it a go. Not many league matches left anyway. Worst case, I'll come off at halftime."
Wenger thought it over. "Alright. But if you feel anything—anything at all, you speak up. Immediately."
Kai grinned. "You got it, Professor."
He pulled on his training gear and left.
As he disappeared down the corridor, Wenger turned to Pat. "Keep an eye on him. He's not always honest with himself. Trop passionné"
Pat nodded seriously.
...
In the locker room, spirits were sky-high.
Since the FA Cup win, the mood had completely shifted. The gloom that had hung over the squad was gone. In its place—hope.
They weren't done. Not by a long shot.
"Oi, Kai!"
"Good going, lad."
"All of England's talking about you, mate!"
Chamberlain looked half-jealous and half-impressed.
Kai smiled, nodding to each teammate as he sat down to change.
Then Suárez strolled over, grinning.
"I've caught up to him, finally."
Kai turned, confused. "Caught up to who?"
After a while, Kai suddenly blinked in realization.
"You've caught up in goals, haven't you?"
Suárez grinned, pulling out his phone and opening the Premier League top scorers list.
Premier League – Matchday 35:
Robin van Persie (Man United) – 23 goals
Luis Suárez (Arsenal) – 23 goals
"Look at that," Kai laughed, patting Suárez on the back. "Told you you'd get there!"
Suárez nodded, his grin fading slightly. "Yeah… Just didn't overtake him. The last rounds are going to be massive."
"We'll play for you," Kai said, eyes gleaming. "Go get that Golden Boot."
"Alright," Suárez replied with conviction. "Let's finish this strong."
Things had shifted for Suárez lately. When he first joined Arsenal, the squad was chaotic, confidence was low, and nothing was clicking.
But slowly, painfully, they'd turned it around. They had an FA Cup trophy now. And in the league, they were four points off the top with three matches to go. Not out of it yet.
...
Premier League – Matchday 36
Arsenal vs QPR, Emirates Stadium
Queens Park Rangers were already relegated, but they weren't lying down. With nothing to lose and revenge in mind after being thrashed earlier in the season, they came out swinging.
The match was tense, physical. Arsenal struggled for rhythm.
Even Kai had already taken a couple of hard knocks. The QPR defenders weren't holding back.
Then came the 78th minute.
Kai picked up the ball on the left wing. Instead of immediately passing, he paused and scanned the field.
A QPR midfielder closed in fast, but Kai dipped his shoulder and darted left, skipping past him with a quick burst of pace.
He'd worked hard this season to improve his dribbling and ball control—still a work in progress, but much better than before.
He got clear and slipped a smart ball forward.
But just as he released it—
A sharp, stabbing pain shot through his ankle. His plant foot gave way, and he crumpled to the turf, clutching at it.
The pain was searing. His face twisted, drenched in cold sweat.
Cazorla spotted it immediately and booted the ball into touch, sprinting over.
"Kai! Talk to me—what happened?"
Kai drew a sharp breath through gritted teeth, trying to push the pain back. Then he raised his hand and signaled to the bench—he needed a sub.
On the sideline, Wenger and Pat Rice stood frozen.
Not again.
Club doctor Gary bolted down the line with his med kit.
Kai sat motionless on the grass, wincing as Levin examined the ankle.
After a few tense seconds, Levin looked up and shook his head at the fourth official.
He couldn't continue.
Sky Sports Live – Commentary Booth
Martin Taylor:
"Oof… that's a worrying sight. Arsenal's midfield anchor is down—and it doesn't look good."
Alan Smith:
"He's been run into the ground, Martin. Nineteen years old, and he's barely had a break since October. League, Champions League, FA Cup—Wenger leaned on him hard."
Martin Taylor:
"You have to wonder if it's caught up with him now."
Back on the pitch, Gary helped Kai to the touchline—he could only hop on one foot.
Wenger and Pat came to meet them. Gary did a more thorough check near the dugout, frowning as he felt around the ankle.
"Torn ligament," Gary muttered grimly. "This is what I warned about."
His voice was sharp now, clearly frustrated. "He shouldn't have been out there this long."
Kai shook his head quickly. "No, that's on me. I told you I could play. What's the damage?"
"I can't tell how bad it is yet," Gary replied, more gently. "We'll need a scan. Hoping it's a minor tear."
He turned to Wenger and Pat. "I'm taking him to the hospital now."
They nodded without hesitation.
As Kai limped away with Gary, the Emirates suddenly erupted in applause.
He looked up and saw his image displayed on the big screen above the pitch.
And then he heard it:
"Come back soon, Kai!"
"We're waiting for you, Warrior!"
"We'll bring the trophy to your room ourselves!"
"Thank you, Great Wall!"
"You're a true Gunner!"
"Hold your head high, you fighter!"
The wave of chants and claps washed over him.
Kai raised a hand toward the stands in silent thanks before disappearing into the tunnel, one step at a time.