"- 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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I had watched those romance movies countless times before, where the story goes like this: he fell for her, and she fell harder, they would live happily ever after. Their love conquering all obstacles. But as I looked at my parents' relationship, I couldn't bring myself to believe in that fairy tale ending. I had witnessed the arguments that reverberated through the walls, the tears silently shed behind closed doors, and the weary sighs that hung heavy in the air. It seemed as though their love had become a delicate balancing act, fragile and susceptible to the pressures of everyday life. The fairy tale I had once held in my heart had been replaced by a somber reality, a reality that left me uncertain if genuine, enduring love was more than just a figment of imagination.
With Shohei, it was no different. He was kind and caring, and being around him made me feel safe. Yet, deep down, I couldn't deny the nagging doubt in my heart. Was this love? Or was it just the comfort of companionship? I refused to settle for a love that I couldn't fully embrace, a love that left me unsure of my own feelings. I longed for a love that was undeniable, passionate, and reciprocated with the same intensity.
For twenty-four years of my life, I had only fallen for one person, Yoshinori. I met him when I moved to England to pursue my Master's degree. He had to work diligently to break through the walls of my haunted past, to enter my world and coax out the inner child within me. I believed that I would never again retreat into that dark corner. But little did I know, due to our respective careers, he had to move to Germany while I stayed in England to continue my program, and later on, I would relocate to the United States to pursue my studies in Psychology. I found myself retreating into that desolate corner once again, with no hope of ever opening my heart again. I made a solemn vow to protect my heart from further pain. I promised myself that I wouldn't let love in again unless it was permanent. The pain of love, the searing ache that it brought, felt too real, too consuming. It haunted me like a ghost, a constant reminder of the vulnerability and heartbreak I had endured. I couldn't bear to go through that anguish again.
Time had passed since that vacation, and I continued to act as normally as I could around Shoei. Deep down, I knew he understood that I needed time to process my emotions. We settled into a familiar routine—Shohei practiced baseball while I focused on my studies. In the evenings, he would visit me, and we would share meals together or spend time watching movies, creating a sense of comfort and companionship.
The nightmares that haunted Shohei seemed to dissipate, leaving behind a glimmer of hope. It felt like a positive omen of him being on the path to healing.
On this particular morning, I found myself engrossed in my research while Shohei was at the practice field, honing his skills as a pitcher. As the clock neared lunchtime, I got a text from Sho, it was a request that tugged at my heartstrings.
"I miss crepe so much, Y/N D: "
I knew what it meant. He asked if I could make crepes for him, a dish he yearned for with a deep longing.
"You cannot touch crepe until you're no longer on a diet! What about fruit milk? ;)"
"Okay, my princhef :D "
Shohei's playful words brought a burst of laughter from deep within me. It was moments like these that reminded me of his infectious spirit and his ability to bring joy into the simplest of situations. His blend of words, "princhef," made me giggle uncontrollably.
Determined to create a special treat for Sho, I decided to make a fruit milk drink. The idea sparked excitement within me as I imagined his delight when he tasted it.
As I diligently went about my tasks, I realized that an essential ingredient was missing from my kitchen - milk. With a sense of urgency, I decided to make a quick dash to the nearby store to replenish my supply.
Lost in my thoughts and engrossed in selecting the right carton of milk, I became aware of a voice that cut through the background noise of the store. Its familiarity sent a shiver of curiosity down my spine.
"Seems like you still hate banana milk like before" the voice teased.
Startled, I turned around, scanning the faces around me, trying to identify the source of the voice that seemed to know my secret preference for milk flavors.
