Before the day ended, the baseball players decided to hold a friendly match. They split into two teams—some players joined forces with volunteers from the charity house, while others stayed together on the players' side. A few of the female volunteers joined in too.
The children wanted to play, but the director gently refused, reminding them of their conditions. "Let the volunteers play for you instead," he said, smiling.
Nathan and Rosette were placed on the same team, along with several volunteers. Dranred joined the opposing team—the group of baseball players. But since he was known for his powerful pitching, he was assigned a different position that day.
On Nathan's team, he would play catcher, while Rosette would take the pitcher's mound.
As the game began, Dranred stepped up as the first batter for the players' team. Rosette took her position on the mound, her hands trembling slightly as she held the ball. Nathan had told her that Dranred was a strong batter—he could send the ball flying far beyond the field.
Still, Nathan's earlier words echoed in her mind: "Just aim for my mitt. I'll catch whatever you throw. It doesn't have to be perfect."
Rosette smiled faintly at the memory and exhaled. She could hear the children cheering from the sidelines, their excitement filling the air. She turned to wave at them, her heart swelling.
I hope I don't embarrass them… or myself, she thought before facing the batter's box again.
Dranred was already looking straight at her.
So you've ignored me this whole time, huh? she thought bitterly. Even if you're angry, you could've said something. As if I wouldn't understand. You still treat me like a child—and I hate it.
With that thought burning in her chest, she threw her first pitch.
"Strike!" the umpire shouted as Nathan caught the ball cleanly in his mitt.
Rosette froze for a moment, eyes wide. Strike? She hadn't even realized the ball had left her hand so cleanly. She looked toward Dranred, who still stood motionless in the batter's box, his eyes locked on her.
The children erupted in applause and cheers. Rosette couldn't help but smile weakly. How was that even a strike? she wondered. Was it just luck—or anger?
Her gaze drifted back to Dranred. He was still staring at her, and for the first time, she couldn't read what was behind his eyes.
all," the umpire called after Rosette's next pitch.
So the first one was just luck, Rosette thought with a sigh. She glanced at Dranred—he was still standing there, eyes fixed on her, but it was as if he wasn't seeing her at all. Just emptiness.
Before her third pitch, she clenched the ball tightly. The sight of him ignoring her like she was nothing stung more than she wanted to admit. Anger welled up inside her, and she poured it all into the throw—so hard that she thought her arm might come loose from her shoulder.
She's swinging her arm quite well. She'll have sore muscles later, Dranred thought absently. After Nathan confronted him earlier, he'd begun to realize how wrong he'd been—and how jealous he felt seeing Rosette with someone else. He didn't want to admit it, but he knew exactly what that feeling was. Still, what would James think? What if—
"Watch out!" Rosette's voice cut through his thoughts just as the ball slammed into his shoulder.
The bat slipped from Dranred's hand. Gasps rippled through the crowd, followed by silence.
Rosette froze, horror flashing across her face. "I'm sorry! I wasn't paying attention when I threw—are you hurt?" She hurried to his side, her hands trembling as she touched his arm.
"I'm fine," Dranred said, rolling his shoulder with a faint smirk. "I'm not that weak. Though I have to admit, that was one hell of a throw. Nice pitch."
He reached out and patted her head lightly. Nathan, standing behind the plate, frowned slightly at the unexpected tenderness between them.
Rosette stared at Dranred, eyes wide.
"What?" he asked, raising a brow.
"Nothing," she murmured, still confused.
He chuckled softly. "I was just thinking about what I missed... being such a jerk all day."
Rosette blinked, unsure how to respond.
"Never mind," he said with a grin, pinching her nose gently. "You're hopeless."
"Hopeless?" she echoed, half-offended, half-smiling.
Dranred just laughed—and for the first time that day, the tension between them broke like sunlight after rain.
"Go to first base," Nathan called, standing and looking toward Dranred.
Dranred met his gaze without a word. "We'll talk later," he said to Rosette before walking toward first base. Since her pitch had hit him, he was given a walk.
Rosette watched him go, a small smile tugging at her lips. He's talking to me again... It feels like the old Dranred is back.
"You don't have to worry about it," Nathan said, offering a reassuring smile. "That kind of thing happens in a game."
"Yeah," Rosette replied softly, glancing again at Dranred. Just hearing him speak to her—just that simple warmth in his voice—made her heart flutter.
"I'll head back," she added with a grin before turning toward the mound.
"Oh," was all Nathan managed to say. He looked from Rosette to Dranred, his hand tightening into a fist.
He had thought Dranred's coldness meant the two were drifting apart, that maybe he finally had a chance. But now, seeing Rosette smile like that—so bright, so alive—something inside him ached.
Her smile was the sweetest thing he'd seen all day, and he hated that it was Dranred, not him, who could draw it out of her.
As he watched the two of them—the way their eyes seemed to find each other even across the field—Nathan realized something painful: when those two talked, it was as if the rest of the world disappeared.
And he wasn't part of it.