Years passed quietly.
Not all changes happened suddenly.
Some arrived so slowly that nobody noticed until one day...
They looked back and realised how much had changed.
The little boy who once needed help holding a baseball glove...
Was slowly growing.
The Fujikawa household remained as warm as ever.
The smell of home-cooked meals filled the kitchen every evening.
The sound of laughter echoed through the living room.
And no matter how busy life became...
The family always found time to sit together.
Reina was the heart of the household.
As a full-time housewife, she was the one who remembered everything.
School schedules.
Family events.
Michael's meetings.
Reo's practices.
Even the small things that everyone else forgot.
"Michael."
"Hm?"
"You forgot your lunch again."
The man froze halfway through putting on his coat.
"..."
Reina raised an eyebrow.
"You forgot three times this month."
Michael smiled awkwardly.
"I was thinking about work."
"That's exactly why I prepared it."
She handed him the lunch box.
"Thank you."
Michael smiled.
He could manage a company.
Handle difficult negotiations.
Make decisions worth millions.
But at home...
He was still just a husband who forgot his lunch.
The Fujikawa business continued to grow.
As Mio got older, he slowly began understanding what his father actually did.
At first, he thought his father was simply someone who wore suits and went to meetings.
But after visiting the company several times...
He noticed something.
People didn't respect Michael because of his position.
They respected him because he respected them.
"Good morning, Tanaka-san."
"How is your son doing?"
"Did his entrance exam go well?"
Mio watched quietly.
His father remembered everyone.
Not their job titles.
Their names.
Their lives.
One day, Mio asked:
"Dad."
"Hm?"
"Why do you remember everyone?"
Michael looked surprised.
"Because they're people."
"..."
"If someone spends years working with me..."
"The least I can do is know who they are."
Mio thought about that for a while.
Then nodded.
He didn't completely understand business.
But he understood his father.
Meanwhile...
Reo was growing.
The energetic boy who once ran everywhere without thinking had started becoming more responsible.
A little.
Only a little.
"Reo."
"Yes?"
"Did you finish your homework?"
"..."
"Why did you suddenly look away?"
"I remembered something important."
"What?"
"I forgot my homework."
Michael sighed.
"You really haven't changed."
Despite that...
Reo had always been loved by people.
He made friends easily.
He laughed easily.
And wherever he went...
People naturally gathered around him.
Maybe that was why it happened.
Not because he searched for baseball.
But because baseball found him.
It started when Reo was in elementary school.
One afternoon, a group of classmates approached him.
"Reo!"
"Hm?"
"We need one more person."
"For what?"
"Our baseball game."
Reo blinked.
"Baseball?"
"Yeah."
"But I play football."
"We know."
"Then why me?"
One of the boys pointed at him.
"Because you're athletic."
"That's not a reason."
"It is."
"..."
Reo looked at his friends.
Then sighed dramatically.
"Fine."
"But only today."
At first...
Nobody expected anything.
He was just filling a spot.
Someone who could run fast.
Someone who could throw.
Someone who wouldn't complain.
But then...
The ball flew toward the outfield.
Reo moved.
Not because he calculated.
Not because he studied.
His body simply reacted.
He caught it.
Cleanly.
Everyone stopped.
"..."
The boy who hit the ball blinked.
"Did you just catch that?"
Reo looked at the glove.
"...I think so."
"You think so?"
"I was more surprised than you."
By the end of the game...
The adults watching from the side had noticed.
That boy wasn't ordinary.
His speed.
His coordination.
His throwing motion.
Everything came naturally.
The coach approached him.
"Have you played baseball before?"
Reo shook his head.
"No."
"Never?"
"No."
The coach stared.
"...Interesting."
When Reo came home that day...
Michael immediately noticed the baseball glove in his hand.
"New hobby?"
Reo shrugged.
"My friends needed someone."
"And?"
"It's fun."
Michael smiled.
"Do you like it?"
Reo thought about it.
"I like playing with everyone."
That answer was exactly what Michael expected.
Because that was Reo.
He didn't fall in love with baseball.
He fell in love with the people around him.
***
Mio watched his brother from the side.
And he understood.
Reo and him were different.
Reo belonged wherever people were.
Mio was happier standing quietly nearby.
But somehow...
He never felt lonely.
Because Reo always dragged him along anyway.
"Mio!"
"..."
"Catch."
A baseball flew toward him.
Mio raised his glove.
Pop.
Caught.
Again.
"Mio!"
Another throw.
Pop.
Again.
Reo grinned.
"See?"
"You're good."
Mio looked at his glove.
"...I'm just catching."
"That's what catchers do."
"..."
"Exactly."
It happened naturally.
Years of catching for Reo.
Years of watching his throws.
Years of seeing different movements.
Without realising it...
Mio began understanding baseball.
Not through books.
Not through training.
Through experience.
He learned where Reo wanted the ball.
When he was nervous.
When he was confident.
When his throwing form changed.
Mio didn't talk much.
But he noticed everything.
***
Then came primary school.
On his first day...
Mio stood in front of his classroom.
A small backpack on his shoulders.
A name tag attached neatly to his uniform.
"Fujikawa Mio."
The teacher smiled.
"Welcome."
The other students looked curious.
A new classmate.
A new friend.
"Everyone, introduce yourselves."
One by one...
Children stood up.
"I like soccer!"
"I like drawing!"
"I like games!"
Then...
"Mio?"
The boy slowly stood.
Everyone waited.
"..."
"I like baseball."
The teacher smiled.
"Oh?"
"Do you play?"
Mio thought.
"...Sometimes."
"What position?"
A pause.
"...The person who catches the ball."
The classroom became quiet.
Then—
A few children laughed.
Not because they were making fun of him.
Because his answer was so serious.
The teacher smiled.
"You mean catcher?"
Mio nodded.
"Probably."
"Probably?"
"My brother throws the ball."
"So I catch it."
The teacher blinked.
Then laughed softly.
"That's one way to explain it."
***
Years continued to pass.
Mio kept playing baseball.
Sometimes with Reo.
Sometimes with his classmates.
Sometimes just throwing alone in the backyard.
He never chased greatness.
He never thought about becoming famous.
He simply enjoyed the feeling.
The sound.
The movement.
The connection.