"Dranred!" Charlie's voice cut through the noise of the crowd as he strode quickly toward his nephew. Both Dranred and Rosette turned at the sound, and Rosette froze when she saw who it was.
She had thought Charlie had already gone back abroad. Seeing him now, with that sharp look in his eyes, made her chest tighten.
"So here you are," Charlie said as he came closer, his tone edged with impatience. "I've been looking for you. The scouts are waiting — they want to interview the star pitcher of tonight's game."
"I'll be there in a bit. I just—" Dranred started, but Charlie cut him off.
"What could possibly be more important than the scouts who can give you a chance at the Major League?" His voice rose slightly as his gaze shifted toward Rosette. His next words came out like a challenge.
"A childhood friend can wait. Can't you?"
The coldness in his tone made Rosette's stomach drop. She wanted to say something — anything — but the words died in her throat. Why did it feel like her presence alone had suddenly become a problem?
"Uncle Charlie!" Dranred's voice snapped like a whip, his brows knitting together. He could feel the tension in the air, the way Charlie's words struck Rosette like invisible blows.
Charlie didn't flinch. "Don't misunderstand me. I'm not trying to come between you two," he said, though his tone remained firm. "But Dranred — this is your last chance. You're not getting any younger. You've already wasted ten years. Miss this, and you'll stay an amateur for the rest of your life."
Rosette bit her lip at those words. Ten years. She knew exactly what he meant — the ten years Dranred had spent playing basketball, chasing his brother's dream instead of his own.
"I can't believe you just said that," Dranred muttered, his voice low but simmering with anger. "Do you really think she's the reason I'd throw away my dream?"
"Don't get me wrong, young man," Charlie replied evenly, though his tone carried weight. "But I think even you know there's truth in what I said." His eyes flicked toward Rosette again. "I know how much she—"
He stopped mid-sentence. Dranred had stepped forward, his eyes burning with quiet fury. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Charlie could see the storm behind his nephew's gaze — pride, resentment, and a silent plea to stop.
Charlie drew a slow breath, realizing he'd gone too far. Still, he held his ground. If he doesn't see what's at stake now, he might lose his chance forever, he told himself.
As the silence thickened between them, Rosette took a step back, her heart pounding. She suddenly understood: this wasn't just about baseball. It was about Dranred choosing which part of his life to fight for — the dream he'd once buried, or the connection he couldn't quite let go of.
"If you can glare at me like that," Charlie said coolly, "then I know you can make your own choices this time. Don't repeat the same mistake."
With that, he turned away. "Go on — they're waiting to talk to you," he added without looking back, walking toward the dugout where several scouts were already gathered around the team.
"Geez…" Dranred sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "What's going on in his head?"
When he turned back to Rosette, the irritation drained from his face. She stood frozen, eyes distant, tears pooling at the corners.
"Rosette, I—" He stepped closer, his voice softening. He raised a hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks, but she quickly moved, brushing them away herself with a trembling smile.
"I'm sorry," she said, forcing a small laugh through the tightness in her throat. "I'm such a crybaby." Her voice wavered, betraying what she was trying to hide.
"You really are," Dranred said gently, taking one slow step toward her. He reached out and rested his palm lightly on her head — a simple, familiar gesture that made her heart jump.
"I'm sorry about what my uncle said," he added quietly. "I don't know why he spoke to you like that. I'll talk to him later. Don't take it too seriously. I'm sure he didn't mean to hurt you."
"I know," Rosette replied softly. "He just wants what's best for you. He really cares about you."
"Yeah," Dranred said, exhaling through a half-smile. "Sometimes that's what scares me."
"Go," she said after a pause, nodding toward the dugout. "They're waiting for you."
"I guess you're right." He glanced in the same direction, where Charlie was now speaking to the scouts.
"I should go too," Rosette murmured, gently lifting his hand from her head. For the first time, leaving after one of his games felt heavy.
It wasn't because of what Charlie said — she understood his concern — but because of the quiet ache that came with knowing Dranred was moving further away from her.
She was happy for him, truly. Seeing him chase the dream he'd once given up filled her with pride.
But beneath that pride was something heavier — a sadness she couldn't quite name, a fear that she might soon become just another part of the past he'd finally outgrown.
"The basketball finals are next week," Dranred said with a grin. "Let's watch it together. It'll be my first time watching a basketball game."
"I bet James' team will make it to the finals."
Rosette smiled. "If you're not busy next week, why not?"
"I can always make time—especially if it's with you. You know you've always had a hold on me."
Her smile widened despite herself. "Go on now, you should head back." She gave him a playful push toward the dugout.
Dranred clutched his chest dramatically. "Ouch. It hurts when you push me away like that."
Rosette froze, realizing what she'd just done, but before she could step back, Dranred caught her hand.
"I need to recharge," he said, eyes glinting mischievously as he looked at their joined hands.
"Recharge?" she repeated, startled.
Dranred leaned closer, voice soft but teasing. "I've been playing all game, and now I've got to face those scouts. That takes energy. And you know I don't function well without my human charger."
Before she could react, he gently cupped her face and leaned in until their foreheads touched. Rosette's breath hitched — her heart pounding so fast she was sure he could hear it.
Her mind went blank. So close… too close.
The warmth of his skin, the quiet between them, the steady rhythm of his breathing — everything felt amplified.
Can you hear it, Red? she thought, her heart racing wildly.
He smiled, still with eyes closed, as if he could.
"You're acting like a spoiled kid, you know that?" Rosette said with a teasing smile.
"I only act spoiled in front of you," Dranred replied, eyes glinting with amusement. "You're the only one allowed to see this side of me."
Rosette froze for a moment. Something about those words struck her deeply. Everyone saw Dranred as the tough, unstoppable athlete—whether on the basketball court or the baseball field. No one knew the version of him that stood before her now—soft, human, and in need of care.
"Come on," she said quickly, trying to hide her fluster. "You're fooling me. I'm sure there are plenty of girls lined up for you."
Dranred opened his eyes, the playfulness fading for a second. Rosette's breath caught—had she said too much?
"Lined up?" he repeated, glancing behind him before looking back at her. "I don't see anyone."
Rosette bit her lip, her cheeks warming.
"I've fully recharged," Dranred said with a grin. "As I thought—you really are an effective human charger." He lightly tapped her forehead. "And don't worry. Even if there were girls lining up… my eyes only look in one direction."
That look—steady, gentle, and sure—made her heart stumble. She couldn't bring herself to say anything.
"I don't like the idea of leaving you here," he said softly. "But I have to—for now."
"Stop treating me like a child," she muttered, pouting slightly. "I can take care of myself. Go."
"I'm still a little hesitant, you know," he teased, taking her hand. "If I could, I'd—"
"You should go now," Rosette interrupted quickly, forcing a smile. "I'll see you at the finals next week."
"I'll hold you to that," Dranred said, squeezing her hand before letting go.
Rosette watched as he walked away, the light from the field outlining his back. A heaviness settled in her chest. Each step he took seemed to pull him further from her world.
Sooner or later, she thought, I'll have to learn to let him go.