The Filipino Wonderkid: Road to the World Cup

Volume 2: The Regional Stage

Recovery training ended earlier than usual.

Coach Ramirez kept it light — stretching, easy jogging, a few rounds of possession drills at half-speed, nothing that asked anything of legs still sore from the Maddela match. By ten in the morning, he blew the whistle one final time and simply said, "Go shower. Bus leaves at eleven."

Rafael was the first one off the field. "FINALLY."

"You've been saying that since yesterday," Miguel said, jogging beside him.

"And I'll keep saying it until we're standing inside that mall."

The bus ride to SM City took twenty minutes, most of it filled with Rafael narrating everything he could see out the window like a tour guide who had never actually been to Tuguegarao before either.

"Is that it? Is that the mall?"

"That's a gas station, Rafael."

"It's close to the mall."

"It's not."

By the time the actual building came into view — wide, modern, glass front catching the late-morning sun — even Rafael went quiet for a moment, which Kai privately considered the most impressive thing that had happened all day.

"Okay," Rafael said eventually, pressing his face slightly against the window. "That's the mall."

"Finally," Marco muttered.

Coach Ramirez laid out the rules before anyone was allowed off the bus. Stay in groups. Phones on. Back at the entrance by four. No wandering off to other cities, Rafael, I'm looking at you.

"That was one time," Rafael said, wounded. "In Baguio. Three years ago. Are we still doing this?"

"Yes."

The team dispersed the moment they stepped inside, the cool rush of air conditioning hitting them all at once like a small, collective sigh of relief. Marco and Tomas peeled off toward the sporting goods section almost immediately, already debating which cleats they'd buy if they had actual money. Leo Jr. and Nico trailed after them. Coach Ramirez and Leo found a coffee shop near the entrance and claimed a table like men who had earned the right to sit still for a few hours.

That left Kai, Rafael, Miguel, and Belle standing near the directory map, trying to decide where to start.

"Toy store," Kai said. "I need to find something for Sofia."

Rafael perked up immediately. "Can we come?"

"You're going to make it weird."

"I'm going to make it entertaining."

Miguel checked his phone. "I actually need to call my mom. I'll catch up with you guys at the food court in an hour."

Rafael watched him go, then looked between Kai and Belle, something calculating crossing his face that Kai didn't entirely trust.

"You know what," Rafael said slowly, "I think I saw a basketball section near the sporting goods. I should probably go check on Marco. Make sure he doesn't buy anything stupid."

"Marco has good taste," Kai said.

"Exactly why I need to supervise him." Rafael was already backing away, grinning in a way that made his intentions painfully obvious. "You two have fun. Find something Sofia will like."

He disappeared around a corner before Kai could argue.

Kai looked at Belle. Belle looked back, unbothered, camera already swinging gently at her side.

"He wasn't subtle," she said.

"He's never subtle."

"Should we go find the toy store, then?"

Kai nodded, and they started walking, the mall's midday crowd moving comfortably around them.

The toy and gift section took up most of the second floor, shelves organized by everything from action figures to plush animals to shelves of miniature Cordillera-style woven bags that looked like they'd been made for exactly this purpose — pasalubong, purchased in bulk by parents and older siblings trying to prove they hadn't forgotten anyone back home.

Kai stood in front of a shelf, mildly overwhelmed. "She said she wanted something good."

"That's not specific."

"She's 10 years old. Nothing she says is specific."

Belle laughed, moving down the aisle ahead of him, scanning shelves with the same careful attention she usually reserved for a scene through her camera. "What does she like?"

Kai thought about it. "Drawing. Complaining. Threatening to steal my food."

"Healthy interests."

"She's very well-rounded."

Belle stopped in front of a display of small sketchbooks, each one bound in a different color, a few with simple embroidered designs along the cover. She picked one up — deep green, small enough to fit in a school bag, sturdy enough to survive whatever a ten-year-old might put it through.

"This," she said, holding it out. "Not a toy. Something she can actually use."

Kai took it, turning it over in his hands. It was simple. Plain, almost, next to the louder, more colorful options crowding the shelves around it.

"You think she'll like it?"

"I think she'll like that you thought about what she'd actually want instead of just grabbing whatever looked expensive."

Kai looked at her for a second. "That's oddly specific advice."

Belle shrugged, but something in her expression shifted, just slightly — softer, less guarded than her usual camera-ready composure. "My older cousin used to travel a lot when I was little. She always came back with toys. Big, loud, expensive toys." She paused. "I don't remember a single one of them."

"What do you remember?"

"She brought me a small notebook once. From Baguio. I still have it."

Kai didn't say anything right away. There was something in the way she said it — quiet, almost accidental, like the sentence had slipped out before she'd fully decided to share it.

"You still have it," he repeated.

"Somewhere. In a drawer." Belle glanced at him, then busied herself checking the sketchbook's price tag like the conversation hadn't just gone somewhere she hadn't planned for it to go. "Anyway. That one. Get that one."

Kai smiled and tucked the sketchbook under his arm. "Okay. That one."

They wandered a little longer after that, not really shopping for anything specific anymore, just moving through the aisles the way people do when the errand has technically finished but neither person wants to be the one who says it's time to leave.

Belle raised her camera at one point, angling it toward a display of stuffed animals stacked in a pyramid nearly as tall as she was.

"For the archive?" Kai asked.

"For me," Belle said. "Not everything has to be for the delegation."

Click.

She checked the photo, then, almost as an afterthought, turned the camera slightly and pointed it at Kai instead, standing there holding a small green sketchbook like it was something fragile.

"Belle."

"One picture."

"You've taken about six hundred of me already."

"This one's different."

Kai raised an eyebrow. "Everything's different with you."

"That's the job."

He didn't argue further. He simply stood there, a little self-conscious, a little amused, while she framed the shot — and for once, instead of complaining, he let himself smile at her instead of the camera.

Click.

Belle looked at the screen for a long moment. Longer than usual.

"What?" Kai asked.

"Nothing." She lowered the camera, something unreadable crossing her face before she tucked it away. "Let's go find the others before Rafael starts a riot in the sporting goods section."

They found the whole group already gathered at the food court by the time they arrived, a wide table claimed near the center, Rafael practically vibrating with impatience in his seat.

"FINALLY. Where were you two?"

"Shopping," Kai said, sliding into a seat.

"For an hour?"

"Sofia's picky."

Rafael narrowed his eyes but let it go, mostly because a server had just arrived carrying the first of several large bowls toward their table — noodles piled high, topped with a poached egg, thin slices of carabeef, and a scattering of crushed chicharon across the top.

"Pancit Batil Patung," Coach Ramirez announced, settling into his own seat at the head of the table. "You're not leaving Tuguegarao without trying this."

Rafael stared at his bowl like it had personally challenged him. "Why is there an egg on top."

"Poached," Leo said. "Mix it in."

"Mix it — is this soup or noodles?"

"Both. Neither. Just eat it."

Rafael, tentative for possibly the first time in his entire life, mixed the egg through the noodles the way Leo instructed. He took a bite. His eyebrows shot up.

"Okay." He took another bite, faster this time. "Okay, this is good. This is really good."

"Told you," Marco said, already halfway through his own bowl.

Kai tried his, the egg yolk coating the noodles in something rich and warm, the chicharon adding a sharp crunch against the softness of everything else. He understood immediately why it was the first thing anyone in Tuguegarao recommended.

Belle, camera resting on the table beside her plate for once, simply ate without documenting anything, which Kai noticed and didn't comment on. Some moments, apparently, she preferred to just have.

The table settled into the particular comfortable chaos of a team that had spent enough time together to stop performing for each other. Rafael argued with Marco about whether chicharon belonged on pancit at all despite having finished his entire bowl in record time. Miguel showed Tomas something on his phone that made them both laugh. Coach Ramirez and Leo talked quietly about tomorrow's recovery schedule, occasionally glancing up to make sure nobody was about to do something that required intervention.

Kai's phone buzzed midway through the meal. A message from Sofia.

Sofia: Did you buy it yet??? The pasalubong???

He smiled and typed back.

Kai: Bought it. You'll like it.

Sofia: WHAT IS IT

Kai: Secret.

Sofia: I hate you

Kai: Kai: You'll love it when I get home

Sofia: fine. i'll allow it.

Kai laughed under his breath. Belle glanced over, curious.

"Sofia," he explained, turning the phone slightly so she could see.

Belle smiled at the screen. "She's going to like the sketchbook."

"I hope so."

"She will." Belle said it with a certainty that made Kai believe her without needing further proof.

By the time they finished eating, the afternoon had softened into something slower, less urgent than the morning had been. Rafael convinced half the table to walk through the arcade before heading back to the bus — a brief, chaotic detour that resulted in Marco winning a small stuffed bear from a claw machine on his third try and immediately gifting it to Tomas, who accepted it with the solemn dignity of a knight receiving a medal.

Kai watched it all from a short distance, the sketchbook still tucked carefully into his bag, the noise of the arcade blending into something pleasant rather than overwhelming.

Belle came to stand beside him, watching the same scene.

"Good day?" she asked.

Kai thought about it — the match yesterday, the scouting session, the sketchbook, the noodles, Rafael's ongoing existential crisis over claw machine odds.

"Yeah," he said. "Good day."

"No football."

"There was some football talk."

"Barely." Belle smiled. "That's the point of today."

Kai nodded slowly, watching Rafael attempt and fail a second claw machine run, Miguel laughing somewhere behind him, the whole team loud and unbothered and, for one afternoon, entirely unconcerned with group standings or upcoming opponents.

Tomorrow, Julian and Renzo would be waiting again in the back of his mind. Tomorrow, training would resume, sharp and serious, the tournament clock ticking forward toward Lal-lo.

But that was tomorrow.

For now, Kai simply stood there, sketchbook in his bag, Belle beside him, and let himself have the rest of the afternoon.

End of Chapter 9