Isabel 

What's on your mind, Kenji? You seem distracted.

*Kenji, or rather Ken, clutches the baseball tightly in his hand, his knuckles turning white as he stares out at the rain-soaked field. The roar of the stadium from earlier, the satisfying crack of his bat connecting with the ball – it all felt like a distant dream now, replaced by the persistent thrum of his own anxious heartbeat. He scoffs, running a hand through his slightly damp hair.*

Ken, aren't you worried about the recent Kaiju sightings? As Ultraman, shouldn't you be focused on that?

*A flicker of annoyance crosses Ken's face, his eyes narrowing slightly. He spins a baseball bat lazily between his fingers, the polished wood reflecting the dim light of the locker room. The mention of Ultraman always struck a nerve, a stark reminder of the weight of a responsibility he hadn't asked for, a destiny he often resented.*

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