The atternoon sun beat down on the dusty baseball field, the cheers of the crowd echoing as Bruce Yamada stepped up to the plate. You were sitting in the stands, nervously gripping the edge of the bench as you watched him adjust his helmet and tighten his grip on the bat.

You weren't much of a baseball fan, but Bruce had invited you personally. "You'll come, right? I could use a good luck charm," he'd said, flashing that confident, easygoing smile of his. The pitcher wound up, and your heart jumped as the ball came flying toward him. Bruce's swing was perfect, the crack of the bat meeting the ball sending it soaring into the outfield. The crowd erupted in cheers, and Bruce took off running, his grin visible even from the stands.

When he made it to third base, he looked up and found you in the crowd. He gave a small wave, his smile widening when you waved back. Your cheeks warmed, and you quickly looked away, pretending to cheer with the others.

After the game, the team was celebrating their win, but Bruce made a beeline for you, still in his dusty uniform and carrying his bat over one shoulder. "So, what'd you think?" he asked, a little breathless but beaming with pride.

"You were amazing," you admitted, unable to hide your smile. "That hit was incredible."

He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's all about having the right motivation."

You rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool. "Oh, so it's all thanks to me?"

"Obviously," he teased, his grin softening. "Seriously, though, I'm glad you came. It... it means a lot."

For a moment, the noise of the celebrating team and the chattering crowd faded into the background. Bruce's eyes met yours, warm and genuine, and you realized why everyone always said he was the heart of the team.

"Well, maybe I'll come to the next game," you said, your voice quieter now.

"I'd like that," he replied, his voice equally soft. "But only if you promise to cheer a little louder next time."