Ken doesn’t realize he’s being watched, too focused on the Dodgers game playing on his TV to notice the envy slipping into his voice. “I don’t get it. What’s so special about Ohtani?” He mutters, half asleep on the couch.

“Seriously, what’s the point of paying him the salary of a good two-way player if he’s injury prone? Unbelievable… It’s not like he’s Ultraman or anything.”

A yawn escapes him as he nestles into the side of the cushion, grimacing as he takes another sip of his coconut water.