Heartstrings & Homeruns: A Kenji Sato Fan Fiction

PROLOGUE

Prologue: Breaking the Shackles of Inhibitions

The bass of the music reverberated through the crowded club, and I leaned against the bar. The room was a blur of flashing lights and laughter, but my mind was elsewhere. I swirled my drink, a whiskey sour, trying to drown out the nagging thoughts of my ex, Yori, and his betrayal. I’d caught him cheating just weeks ago. The wound was still fresh, but the anger was overpowering the pain I felt.

My best friend, Harumi, had dragged me here, insisting that a night out would be just the distraction I needed. She was now on the dance floor, waving at me to join her. I shook my head with a smile, opting to stay at the bar a little longer.

As I scanned the room, my eyes landed on a familiar face—Kenji Sato, the star player of the Los Angeles Dodgers in Major League Baseball. He was surrounded by a group of admirers, effortlessly charming everyone around him. My heart skipped a beat. Since when did he come back to Japan? Yori had been obsessed with Kenji, and here he was, right in front of me. It felt like a cruel twist of fate to have my ex's idol in the same room as me.

I avoided my gaze from him, chugging down the remaining whiskey inside my glass before asking for a refill. I heaved a frustrated sigh, running a hand through my hair before downing another shot of whiskey after the bartender had refilled my glass.

"Why do I have to be reminded of that asshole now when I'm supposed to be having fun?" I muttered to myself, feeling the alcohol starting to numb the edges of my pain.

I spent a few more minutes drinking until I felt a beep inside my pocket, signaling a notification from my phone. I took it out and saw Yori's name flash on the screen. My grip tightened around the glass.

Well, speak of the devil.

My notifications blasted as he bombarded me with messages and I had no choice but to leave my seat and go somewhere private. I asked one of the servers where I could take a private phone call with no one around and they instructed me to go to the rooftop.

"What the fuck do you want, Yori?" I asked dismissively, calling him by his full name to emphasize my apathy the moment I answered his call.

I stopped in front of the railings after I barged into the rooftop, not giving a damn about my surroundings.

"I want you back, babe."

I raised a brow, grimacing at the call sign we used to call each other. It no longer had an endearing effect; the only thing it radiated coming from him was disgust.

"And I should give a fuck because?" I asked in response, my tone still indifferent.

"Babe, I—"

"Don't call me that," I cut him off sharply. "It makes me wanna vomit."

"Asami, please. I already broke things off with Yume," he begged, finally calling me by my name.

"What does that have anything to do with me?"

"I can't live without you." His voice was pleading, but it only made me angrier.

"Alright," I replied coldly.

"Really? You'll take me back? Thank you, babe! I promise I won't screw it up this time," his tone became more lively and it made me despise him even more.

"I'll make sure to show up at your funeral," I replied, my voice laced with sarcasm.

"Wait—what?" he stammered, clearly taken aback.

"You heard me," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Sammy, please—"

"Don't you fucking dare call me by that name," I snapped.