The morning light in Kochi had a strange warmth to it.
It wasn't the weather. It was momentum.
With their latest win, the Kerala Blasters were top of the league — for the first time in five years. The dressing room buzzed like a festival.
But Arjun felt a quiet pressure sitting under the celebration.
He had tasted victory now.
And he knew what came next: weight.
---
Coach Sameer called for a closed-door meeting that afternoon.
"This is the part where good teams fall," he said, circling the whiteboard. "Mid-season. Fatigue. Distractions. Complacency. This is where title hopes get eaten alive."
The players nodded.
Aditya Menon, now back from his injury, looked at Arjun and gave him a subtle nod.
> You held the armband well.
---
Later that day, Arjun stayed behind after training to work on his finishing. The sun was already dipping behind the stands.
Faizan walked over, two bottles of water in hand.
"You know we've played every minute since the Goa match?"
"I counted," Arjun replied.
"Champions League qualifiers are coming," Faizan said, tossing him a bottle. "They're gonna rotate the squad."
"I'm not sitting," Arjun said flatly.
"I know," Faizan smirked. "That's why I'm not either."
They bumped fists — a strange new language between them. From rivals to rhythm.
---
Off the field, the media noise around Arjun and Kalyani had grown louder.
Tabloids speculated. Social media dissected every photo.
One viral video showed her smiling from the stands during his comeback game.
Producers called her with warnings.
"You need to focus on your next film."
"People are asking if your role in Neertharam is based on your real life."
Kalyani was quiet during the calls.
But when she met Arjun that evening, her decision was clear.
"I've postponed the Chennai shoot," she said.
"Why?"
"Because I'm not walking away from something just because it's inconvenient."
He looked at her, really looked.
Not like a muse. Not like a fantasy.
Like a partner.
---
That weekend, the Blasters played Bengaluru FC — an intense Southern Derby.
The game was fast, brutal, and tactical. Fans threw chants like knives. The tension could be felt in the humidity.
The match remained 0–0 until the 84th minute.
Then Arjun made the break.
A nutmeg near midfield. A diagonal run. One-two with Faizan. And then—
—a rocket from outside the box.
GOAL.
The stadium imploded.
He didn't run. He didn't slide.
He simply stood still and raised one hand to his ear.
"I'm still here."
---
After the match, journalists flooded the mix zone.
One asked: "Arjun, are you starting to believe in a dynasty now?"
He thought for a second.
Then replied:
"I'm starting to believe that Kerala can stop dreaming and start remembering. This… this is real."
The quote was printed everywhere the next morning.
> "Stop dreaming. Start remembering."
---
Coach Sameer called him aside after training.
"You ready to anchor us through the AFC qualifiers?"
Arjun met his eyes.
"Yes."
"You'll face teams with structure. With pace. With a history of treating Indian clubs like background noise."
"Then let's break their speakers," Arjun said, with a grin.
---
That night, he met Kalyani again.
She brought homemade biryani — not fancy, not staged, just warmth in a bowl.
They sat on the floor, Netflix on mute, not watching anything.
"I used to think love needed declarations," she said suddenly.
"Like?"
"Like big words. Proposals. Public moments."
He nodded.
"And now?"
"Now I think it's just… showing up. Even on the days you don't know who you are."
He looked at her, silent.
"I'm showing up," she said.
He didn't say anything back.
He leaned in and kissed her forehead.
That was more than enough.
---
In the locker room before the next game, Coach said one thing:
"Dynasties don't begin with fireworks. They begin with consistency."
---
On the pitch that night, Arjun didn't score.
But he created three.
Controlled tempo.
Led transitions.
And in the 92nd minute, when the opponent had a last-ditch corner, he was the one to head it out.
To fight again.
To lead again.
To believe again.
---