"- Promise? - Promise."
Shohei Ohtani, a baseball superstar worldwide, carried the weight of an injury that threatened to shatter his dreams. He now faced not only the painful physical injury, but also a disease that posed threat to his mental healt...
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"What's happening to our superstar?"
The newspaper headline blared across the front page in bold letters. A shocking news echoed through the hearts of fans and sports enthusiasts alike.
Among those in the spotlight was Shohei Ohtani, a prodigious talent known for his prowess on the baseball diamond.
In a small apartment nestled amidst the bustling Anaheim, there sat alone a man. His body was weary and his spirit shattered. The injury that plagued Shohei had struck him in the midst of a crucial game.
1 month ago, in a firece battle with the New York Yankees, with a powerful swing of the bat, Shohei felt a sharp, searing pain shoot through his body. It was as if the world around him faded into a blur, leaving only the torment coursing through his veins. The crack of the ball against his bat turned into a haunting echo of his own agony.
Immediately, the superstar of Los Angeles Angels was hospitalized and go straight to an emergency. The doctors discovered that he had suffered a significant muscle strain in his back, causing severe discomfort and limiting his mobility.
In the next two weeks, the injury had its origins in the relentless demands of Shohei's dual role. The strain of pitching and batting had taken a toll on his body, pushing it to its limits. Day after day, he had pushed through the pain, determined to prove that he was invincible.
But the human body has its limits, and Shohei's had been breached.
The physical suffering was excruciating. Every movement, every pitch, sent waves of agony coursing through his body. It was a constant reminder of the fragility of his dreams and the ever-looming specter of uncertainty. The simple act of gripping a baseball or swinging a bat became a torturous endeavor, tarnishing the once-flawless rhythm of his game.
Not only his physical being tortured.
A sinister and enigmatic disease had taken hold of his mind, leaving a trail of emotional chaos in its wake.
PTSD.
It awoken the deepest pain that he never wanted to remember. It forced him to refuse the bright side and pulled him back to the depression room.
In another words, the monster was coming back through the nightmates, reminding him that he never won this mental-illness pain.
He watched as the adoration of fans waned, replaced by whispers of disappointment and skepticism. The weight of expectations bore down on him, an invisible burden that threatened to suffocate his dreams. The aura of invincibility that once surrounded him had dissipated, leaving behind an emptiness that echoed through the hollow chambers of his soul.
It's been one month Shohei in this loneliness pain. Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into a relentless cycle of self-neglect.
Shohei's body weakened, his once-athletic frame now a mere shell of its former glory. The injury that had robbed him of his physical abilities had now claimed another victim—his appetite.
His interpreter, Ippei, had tried to reach out, but Shohei's self-imposed silence held him captive. He refuse to meet a single person he used to love for his entired life.
"Shohei," Ippei began softly, his voice laced with a gentle urgency, "I know the pain is overwhelming, but starving yourself won't make it any easier. Your body needs sustenance to heal, to rebuild the strength you've lost."
Shohei sat hunched over on the couch, his gaze fixed on a point in the distance. His eyes, once filled with determination and fire, now held a dull, vacant expression. He seemed lost in the labyrinth of his own despair, unable to break free from its suffocating grip.
Ippei approached him cautiously, taking a seat beside Shohei. He placed a tray of carefully prepared food on the coffee table, the aroma wafting through the air in a desperate attempt to reignite Shohei's dormant senses.
"Shohei," Ippei said, his voice filled with concern.
"You can't continue like this. Your body is wasting away, and it's only exacerbating the pain you're feeling. Please, at least try to eat something."
Shohei's gaze flickered towards the tray, but his resolve remained unyielding. He shook his head, a gesture filled with defeat.
"It doesn't matter to me anymore, Ippei-san" Shohei murmured, his voice barely a whisper.
"What's the point of eating? The pain won't go away. The injury won't heal. I'm stuck in this never-ending nightmare, and food won't change a thing."
Ippei sighed, his eyes betraying a mix of frustration and compassion. He had seen Shohei at his best, witnessed the sheer power and brilliance that had once radiated from him. Now, he watched helplessly as his friend withered away, both physically and emotionally.
"I understand that it feels hopeless right now," Ippei said, his tone gentle yet resolute. "But you're not alone in this. We're all here for you, ready to support you every step of the way. You've faced adversity before, Shohei, and you've come out stronger. This time won't be any different."
Ippei's unwavering belief in him had always been a source of strength, a reminder of the resilience that lay within. But he didn't realized that, this time, he had to face more than the outside injury.
"Different?" Shohei said, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "How could it be different when my back can't no longer be the same as it was, and even if I tried, I can't never be the Shohei before, Ippei-san!".
Shohei went straight to the bedroom and locked himself there. For hours, he remained inside, his face covered by his hands as he sobbed silently against the bedsheets.
Ippei silently sat there, watched the positive boy who once had a sweet smile. It felt like no matter how hard Ippei tried, that little boy could never go back under the shining star anymore.
The boy he loved so much as a son, now just become letting go of his life and losing his aura forever.
