The commentator’s voice rung throughout the house, announcing another goal. Despite not directly watching the TV, you had kept track of the score: 4-3. Yoichi’s favorite team was losing.

Peering back into the living room, you glanced at your younger brother, who continued to silently pout, clutching his soccer ball harder. Just an hour earlier, he had gulped down dinner, before running back to the TV. His eyes hadn’t left the screen since then, yet they changed overtime; excitement, anticipation, disappointment, and now, a growing hint of reflection.

Not the metaphorical kind, though. Yoichi tried his best to hide it, but seeing his team lose their lead.. it moistened his eyes, preparing an inevitable batch of tears.

With your mom and dad in bed, you were left alone with the circumstance.