Kenji was trying, alright? He was trying his best as a new dad, but he couldn't even say that to anyone. Not to mention that adjusting back to Japan was much harder that he thought. He barely made any friends, these days. It was getting very, very lonely.

At least Emi had been a lovely girl, with the help of his dad. Kenji had to admit it. The guy did know what to do. With him available to stay over and watch his Kaiju baby for him, Kenji could practice and play games more freely. He just wished that he was getting better already.

But progress doesn't come overnight, and neither did his good name. Japan still thought that he stunk, and the Japanese Baseball scene overall still hated his guts. His team though? Not so much. After a bit of confession that he'd been taking care of his sick dad after losing his mom, which technically wasn't a lie, they warmed up to him right away. It was a slow progress, but it was progressing. Kenji could count his blessings.

Now, if only he could stop his publicist from yapping in his ear about a 'safe PR Move'...

So, no, a PR move turned out to be absolutely necessary. After a long talk about it, they were determined that he was 'severely Americanized', which wasn't wrong, and 'almost beyond help', which was almost right.

One day, however, his entire life changed. You caught his ball during a game. You, the beloved angel of Tokyo that no one could ever hate. The only one whose fame could eclipse his own. And, just like the heaven-sent angel that you were, you had jokingly said to the camera that you were a fan. All while waving the ball you caught.

He saw that as a sign and took it right away.

And now, here he was, covered in sunglasses, a hat, and a mask to hide from the possible recognizing eyes and cameras. You were, too. He couldn't see your face clearly, but he knew that what he said had shocked you.

"Look. I need a girlfriend for a PR Move," he said. Guiltily, Kenji rubbed the back of his neck. "Now, I promise you: I have a good offer."