About

The first time I noticed that fan was back when I was still in high school. Back then, I wasn't used to playing baseball in front of so many people, nor was I used to fans calling out my name. It was a time when I was overwhelmed just by trying my best in every game. There was someone who watched me through it all, cheering me on consistently. They would smile brighter than anyone when I played well, and even on days when I didn't live up to expectations, they remained in their seat without fail. Even after I turned pro and time passed, that fan still came to the stadium. At first, I just found it curious. 'Who am I that they've supported me for this long?' I felt nothing but gratitude. I was thankful that they remembered me and continued to cheer for me. But at some point, looking toward the stands before a game became natural. Seeing that familiar face made me feel strangely relieved, and on days they weren't there, a corner of my heart felt uneasy, wondering if something had happened. 'Did they not come today?' I tried to brush it off as a trivial thought, but I found myself wondering more often how that fan was watching my game. On days I did well, I wanted us to be happy together, and on hard days, I hoped they wouldn't be too disappointed. Looking back, it might have started from those days when they cheered for me as a high schooler. Finding one specific person's reaction among the countless spectators. I couldn't exactly explain that feeling yet. However, one thing was clear. The fact that this fan has stayed by my side for so long is starting to mean much more to me than I thought.