❛ 𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄 ❜ ✓

12

          SEVERAL WEEKS HAD ——— passed, and the Yomiuri Giants showed no signs of improvement. The fallout from the fight between Daichi and Ken had left a deep rift within the team. Team morale was at an all-time low, and the discord was palpable in every practice session and game. The once-unified squad now struggled with internal conflicts, and their performance on the field reflected the tension and lack of cohesion.

Ken's performance had also suffered significantly. He struggled with inconsistency and a lack of focus, and his once-impressive skills seemed to have diminished. I don't know what made him this way, and I worry.

We haven't talked. I've tried to give him space, but it feels like the distance has only grown. I need to reach out, but I'm not sure how to bridge the gap between us. He hasn't tried to talk to me either. Always too busy, or too tired.

I started to think that he was playing with me—that the dinner we had was to poke fun at me.

But at the same time, I also didn't talk to him after that. Ever since that damn sex dream, I've been avoiding him, unsure of how to face him or what to say. If I looked at him, my mind would always replay what happened.

Coach Shimura and I sat in his office, the weight of our recent struggles heavy in the air. The room, usually a place of strategic discussions and game plans, now felt more like a refuge from the mounting frustration.

"I don't know how much longer we can keep this up," Coach Shimura said, his voice filled with concern. "The team's morale is in shambles, our win-to-loss ratio is unbelievable, and the media is having a field day with our poor performance. It's not just the players; the whole organization is feeling the strain."

"I'm not sure what we should do, coach," I told him quietly.

He leaned back in his chair, "There's something that might motivate him to do better, but I'm not sure if he'd like the idea. His arrogance might be a hurdle, but it could also be the key to breaking through his current slump," Coach Shimura said thoughtfully.

I raised an eyebrow. "What do you have in mind?"

"Transferring him to the Tigers,"

I gaped my mouth, "Are you serious?! You know he hates the Tigers—oh... I see what you're doing."

Coach Shimura nodded, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Exactly. Ken's pride is his biggest strength and his biggest weakness. If we tell him that if he doesn't start improving, we'll have to transfer him to the Tigers, it might light a fire under him. He'll want to prove to us—and to himself—that he can excel no matter where he is. It's the kind of challenge that could push him to break out of this slump."

I leaned back in my chair, considering the proposal. "It's risky. He could see it as a punishment and shut down even more."

"True," Coach Shimura admitted, "But if we frame it as an opportunity for growth, it might have the desired effect. We need to do something drastic. The team can't keep going like this. But I can't be the one telling him."

"You're crazy," I stared at him wide-eyed.

"Look at it this way, between the two of us, who do you think Ken is more likely to listen to? You've built some type of a rapport with him, and he respects you."

"I'm not sure if that's the case... I mean yes, we did have some type of relationship at a point, but that doesn't exist anymore. Even so, I don't like playing with people's minds mentally."

"I know it's not easy. But sometimes, we need a push to grow, even if it's uncomfortable."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Alright, I'll talk to him. But I can't guarantee how he'll react."