❛ 𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄 ❜ ✓

30

          THE WEEK LEADING ——— to the Japan Series was used as days off with everyday other day being a day of practice. The second and third place teams needed to play against each other so that they could determine which one of them would get to the playoffs.

The title of champion goes to the team that wins four games—and that's gonna be the Yomiuri Giants.

I was confident that our team had what it took to clinch the title. The atmosphere around the clubhouse was electric, filled with a mix of nerves and excitement. The players, having bonded even more closely after our recent triumph, were determined to keep the momentum going.

It was one of the days that we had off from practicing, and I was currently sitting next to Emi who was snacking on a box of a dozen Mochi donuts from a new bakery named Sweet Spot. The name was weird, but it really did hit the sweet spot.

We were watching one of our older matches--before Ken joined, around a year or two ago--on a big holographic screen. Even though her father wasn't on the screen, she was still watching because my face would appear from time to time, and when it did, she would chirp and point her claws at the screen.

Just like right now.

The screen showed a younger me scowling while throwing a fist in the air, yelling at a Tigers player who had just slid into second base too aggressively, causing our shortstop to stumble.

"---And it looks like the Giants' manager, [name] Hamada, is exchanging a couple of words with the Tigers' Atsushi Nakajima," the commentator's voice filled the room, "She's not backing down. This is one manager who---and she just gave him the bird!" The commentator laughed, clearly amused by the fiery exchange. "Well, that's certainly one way to make a statement."

I cringed slightly, watching the replay of my defiant gesture, "Don't look, Emi," I told her.

She tilted her head curiously, her eyes wide as she watched the screen.

"Seriously, Emi," I said, laughing softly despite my embarrassment. "I know it's funny, but I really didn't mean to cause a scene."

Emi's eyes widened as she took another bite of her mochi donut, seemingly fascinated by the drama unfolding on the screen. She let out a little giggle at the sight of me getting held back by Coach Shimura.

I shook my head, smiling. "I think I've mellowed out a bit since then," I scratched the back of my head sheepishly.

Ken walked in at that moment, spotting us with a curious look. "What's going on in here?"

I glanced over at him, noticing that he was wearing that dumb shirt that said ICON on it, with black sweats and his slippers, "I was showing Emi some old clips. She's been enjoying the show."

Ken glanced at the screen, raising an eyebrow. "Looks like you had quite the temper back then," he mentioned.

I shrugged with a grin. "Yeah, well, I've had to learn to control it a bit more over the years."

He took a seat next to me, reaching out for a mochi donut. "I don't know about that..." he teased, taking a bite.

"It looks like Shimura just sent Hamada into the dugout after a stern talking-to," the commentator's voice echoed from the screen, catching Ken's attention.

The screen showed a replay of Coach Shimura, looking furious, gesturing his hands toward me as I stomped back to the dugout. He sighed while placing a hand on his head before putting it up to the camera as some sort of apology.

Ken chuckled before pointing at the screen, "Look at how cute your angry face is," he teased as Emi slapped the floor, slipping out a few giggles.

"I wasn't angry... I was frustrated," I huffed, looking at me go sit on the bench with my arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed with a slight pout to my lips.  "There's a big difference. The umpire clearly didn't have any eyes."

"Big difference, sure," Ken grinned, taking another bite of his mochi donut, "Didya know you looked the same when you were threatening to transfer me to the Tigers--look, you're doing it now,"

I immediately turned away from him, trying to hide the blush creeping up my cheeks.

"Come on," he prodded, leaning closer. "It's kind of adorable how you get all pouty. You know, if you ever needed to convince someone to do something, just give them that look."

I tried to ignore him, focusing on Emi who was now munching on a mochi donut, watching the screen with great interest.

"What's up with this pout, anyway?" he continued, pointing at the screen, "Where'd you learn a look like that?"

I turned away from him more, twisting my whole body so that I was facing Emi.

Emi, oblivious to the teasing, chirped happily as she looked down at me, offering me a piece of her donut in her giant hand.

Ken reached over, gently turning my face back towards him. "Hey," he said softly, a teasing glint still in his eyes. "I'm just messing with you. I think it's cute."

I pulled away from his hold, scooting closer to Emi with my arms crossed.

He sighed before reaching out and grabbing my waist, pulling me onto his lap, "Don't be like that, sweetheart," he murmured, resting his forehead on my shoulder, "I can't stand when you don't look at me,"

I tried to keep a straight face, feeling his breath on my neck and his grip on my waist. He knew exactly how to get under my skin. I could feel my heart racing, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me getting flustered.

"You really are a big baby sometimes," I muttered, resisting the urge to glance back at him.

He tightened his grip on me, "Yeah, so look at me, would ya?"

Despite my stubborn nature, I couldn't help but give in to his plea. I slowly turned to look at him, our faces only inches apart.

He gave me a coy grin, obviously pleased with himself for winning, "Now was that so hard?" he teased before gently nuzzling into my neck, "Ah. You made me forget why I was here in the first place," he sighed out in realization.

I tried to suppress a shiver as he nuzzled into my neck. It was unfair how he had this effect on me. Trying to regain some form of control, I asked, "Well, why were you here in the first place, then?"

He hummed, his lips still close to my sensitive skin, "Hm, I forgot,"

I wriggled out of his grip, trying to shake off the lingering feeling of his touch, "Well, try to remember,"

Ken sighed and laid back on the ground, his hands pillowing his head as he looked up at the ceiling in mock contemplation. "Alright, alright, I'll tell you," he said, "I was wondering if you'd want to come with us to an outing tomorrow before the first game. It's a cabin in the countryside that we'd go time to time by the lake."

I hummed thoughtfully before shaking my head, "I can't. Coach wants me to go over some last-minute strategies and player assessments with him before our last practice. It's crunch time, and I need to be on top of everything. Plus, I gotta review some footage about those kids coming in soon,"

He frowned slightly, "You do too much work, sweetheart. Sometimes I wonder if you overwork yourself,"

"Nah, I'm used to it by now," I replied with a dismissive wave. "Besides, it's part of the job. Lightwork,"

Ken sighed, shaking his head. "Just don't forget to take a break now and then. You can't run on fumes forever."

"I literally come here when I don't have anything to do, I don't know what you're talking about,"

"But still, make sure you take care of yourself."

"Should've taken your own advice a few months ago,"

"😕"

mehwhwhwhwhwh its time 😈🙏