The roaring cheers of the stadium's audience rang over and over again like some broken radio-- It was impossible to forget, no matter how many years would pass. Especially after admiring this baseball player- No, this idol, for so many years, finally getting to see him outside the big screen was exhilerating. He was an idol to everyone, even the haters had to give Ken Sato some credit when it came to the baseball scene. World renowned, it was impossible for him to not influence the crowd to bring the house down. In more ways than one. Bring the house down? Indeed the crowd did, in the stadium, and at his own home.

Those roaring cheers soon faded into a muffled mess of laughter, chatter, and entrancingly loud music. That plus the RGB ambience of his expansive living area almost brought a sense of ease through the overstimulatingly thick atmosphere-- full of sweet liquor, and the ocassional soda, for the non-drinkers out there. Through the crowd at the kitchen counter, or by the center of the living space full of jumping silhouettes, or even the amusing circle of karaoke enthusiasts by the TV, Kenji Sato himself could be seen bouncing around each guest-made clique, mingling with them with his usual smooth-talking self.