Out in front of the ballpark, Suho, Mark and Cash each looked up at the sky.

The season was really over now. And in front of them stood a new door, wide open: the Arizona Fall League.

Cash was the first to break the silence. Hitching his bag higher on his shoulder, he tossed it off like it was nothing.

“See you later.”

It was a short goodbye. But what it meant was see you in Arizona.

Suho knew how Cash usually was, and he huffed a laugh.

Cash has changed a little.

This was a guy who normally didn’t want to talk to anyone at all, and he’d said goodbye first. It felt like they’d gotten at least a little closer, and that felt good.

“Yeah. Get home safe.”

“Yeah.”

Cash disappeared without looking back, and it was just Suho and Mark.

Suho asked first.

“Mark. When exactly does the Arizona Fall League start?”

“About two weeks out, going by the schedule?”

“Two weeks…”

Suho rubbed his chin and thought it over. Two weeks. You could call it short or you could call it long.

“So what do we need to get ready? Can we keep using the club’s facilities to train?”

Mark shook his head, horrified.

“Whoa, whoa. Easy, Korean workaholic. You don’t need to get ready.”

“Huh? Why not?”

They were heading to the biggest stage a prospect could go to, weren’t they? Suho had taken it for granted that getting ready was a must.

But Mark saw it differently.

“Right now you’ve got to rest. Period.”

Mark’s face was serious.

“We joined the season late, but we went all out every single game, right? Your body’s a lot more worn out than you think.”

He had a point.

Baseball is a marathon. But for Suho and Mark, this season had been the same as sprinting all out every day. Most players build their bodies up step by step from winter to spring and settle into a rhythm. These two had been thrown in midseason and forced to adjust to a strange place, and the energy they’d poured in had burned off twice as fast.

So right now they were running on empty. Forcing themselves to train at this point would do no good at all—it would only raise the risk of injury.

“Besides, the Arizona Fall League isn’t somewhere you go to learn. It’s somewhere you go to show what you’ve got.”

To catch a scout’s eye, a player had to show a hundred percent of what he had—no, a hundred and twenty.

“And for that, the right move right now is to put the bat down. Get your body back to peak condition. That’s the only prep we need.”

Suho nodded.

Mark was right. With stamina he’d had to wring out of himself, he wouldn’t be able to beat players from higher levels. And Suho wanted to show well there, too.

I heard I could get promoted if I do well.

If that happened, he’d at least satisfy the Dodgers’ condition that he move up to a higher level within a year. There was still time left on that clock, but meeting it early would be good for him. He’d be able to play baseball with more peace of mind.

“Got it. So I just rest up for two weeks and keep my body loose.”

“Yeah. That’s exactly it.”

Mark smiled, satisfied.

But then his face clouded over, and with good reason.

Most guys go back home or head off on vacation.

But Suho didn’t have a home to go back to. He could make a trip to Korea, sure…

For two weeks, though? He’d have to fly, which would only make his condition worse. Would Suho really do that?

No way. The Arizona Fall League had a promotion riding on it. He would never do anything that hurt his condition.

He’ll probably try to go over to Arizona early.

The club housing they’d stayed in during the season had to be cleared out when the season ended.

That doesn’t seem like a great idea either.

Arizona was a strange place to Suho. Going early to get used to it wouldn’t mean much.

It’s not like he can get used to the field.

All he’d get used to was some town around there, and that had nothing to do with baseball.

Just as Suho took out his phone to open a lodging app—

“You don’t have anywhere to go, do you?”

Mark hit the nail on the head.

Suho gave an embarrassed smile.

“I was just about to start looking.”

“Figured. Don’t go moping around on your own. Come stay at my place.”

“…Huh?”

“Stay at my house for the two weeks. Then when it’s time, we’ll fly over together.”

Suho was stunned. However close they’d gotten, imposing on someone for two whole weeks was no small thing—especially considering how individualistic Americans tended to be.

“That’s kind of… you’ve got family there. I’d just be in the way.”

Suho truly hated being a burden to anyone, all the more because he’d been on his own ever since he was a kid. The moment you got on someone’s bad side, being an orphan made everything that much harder. There was no one in the world on his side.

“In the way, my ass.”

Mark gave Suho’s shoulder a light thump.

“There are three reasons. One: thanks to you, I get to go to Arizona too. That’s a ticket you couldn’t buy with all the money in the world. And I can’t give the guy who got me one a place to sleep?”

Mark kept going.

“Two: my mom’s cooking is out of this world. Recover eating out? Don’t make me laugh. Home cooking and rest, that’s real recovery. Of course… she can’t make Korean food. Still, it’ll be a lot better. And it won’t cost you anything.”

Mark paused a moment, then gave his last reason with a slightly sheepish look.

“And last… we’re partners, aren’t we?”

“…”

“We’re heading off to war in Arizona. Shouldn’t we get ready and go together?”

That was what he said. But the most important reason was something else.

Mark knew Suho was an orphan. He wanted him to feel a family’s warmth, even if only for a little while, here in America. And he was sure it would help Suho put up better numbers in Arizona later.

Baseball was a mental game. No matter how strong a player’s makeup, the loneliness of living alone in a foreign country ate away at his energy without him even noticing. So the strength to hold on out on a field that felt like a war zone came, strangely enough, from a home where you could rest easiest. You had to know someone had your back before you could run straight ahead.

Even major leaguers try to spend every minute away from practice with their families.

So Mark wanted to give Suho, who always looked as desperate as a man standing at the edge of a cliff, somewhere to lean back for a while. He was sure that sense of security would turn Suho into an even more complete monster.

This was one way, at least, that Mark could start paying back what he owed Suho. Not that he meant to call it even with this—he owed him a mountain.

“Thanks.”

Suho, for his part, felt a lump in his throat at the kindness of this huge friend who so often made him forget he was a foreigner. With Mark going this far, turning him down would be rude.

“I’ll take you up on it.”

“Okay! It’s settled! I’m calling my mom right now.”

Mark pulled out his phone, thrilled.

Suho smiled as he watched him. On the road to Arizona, he was really glad not to be alone anymore.

They’d been riding in an Uber for about thirty minutes when the scenery out the window slowly started to change.

Say “LA” and people usually picture glitzy Hollywood or the beaches of Santa Monica. But nothing like that was anywhere in Suho’s view now. Instead, he saw walls covered in faded graffiti, windows with iron bars over them, and beat-up cars that looked like they’d been abandoned by the curb.

South Central—one of LA’s best-known high-crime areas, where the city’s poor lived.

This was Mark Williams’ hometown.

The car pulled up in front of an old single-family house with most of its paint peeled off. The grass in the yard hadn’t been cut and was overgrown, and one side of the roof looked like it might not hold.

“…Here we are.”

Mark scratched the back of his head, a little embarrassed.

“Kind of run-down, huh? I’m gonna make the majors fast so I can move them out of here first thing. Just put up with it for two weeks.”

“Nah. It feels like people actually live here. I like it.”

And Suho really didn’t feel out of place in a house like this. He’d grown up in an orphanage himself. The house didn’t look any better than that, but it was nothing he couldn’t get used to. Besides, Mark was doing this for him.

Suho smiled as he unloaded his bags.

“I think I like it better than a five-star hotel.”

“Hey. Okay, that’s a stretch!”

“I mean how it feels. No hotel’s better than home, no matter how expensive, right?”

“That! I’ll give you that!”

Just then—

“Maaaark!”

“Mark!”

The front door flew open, and two small, curly-haired Black kids came shooting out like bullets and latched on to Mark. Lily, his five-year-old baby sister, clung to his leg like a cicada. Tommy, his ten-year-old brother, gave Mark a playful poke in the stomach.

And at the front door, his fifteen-year-old sister Jenny stood with her arms folded, smiling like she was trying to act grown-up.

“You’re back? Look at you, you got even bigger.”

“You bet! You been good, you little monsters?”

Mark was disarmed in an instant. Big as he was—over six-three—he scooped Lily up with one arm and set her on his shoulders, then mussed Tommy’s hair. The grumbling guy from the ballpark was nowhere to be seen. He was a big brother who was crazy about his siblings, through and through.

A moment later, a middle-aged woman in an apron hurried out of the house. It was Mark’s mother.

“Oh, my baby! You’re home?”

“Mom! I’m home.”

Mark put his siblings down and hugged his mother so hard he nearly crushed her. She was so small and slight she practically disappeared into his arms.

“You’ve been working so hard. Why is your face so thin?”

“Thin? Come on. I put on weight. Oh, Mom—say hi. This is my friend, and the guy I owe big. Suho Oh.”

Suho bowed politely.

“Hello, ma’am. Thank you for having me for the next two weeks. I’m Suho Oh.”

“Oh my, so you’re the Suho! Mark’s told me so much about you. It’s nothing fancy, but let’s eat first.”

Stepping inside, Suho looked around the living room. It was old, but it was full of warmth. The furniture was chipped and worn, but every corner had been cared for until it shone.

His eyes went to the family photos on the mantel over the fireplace. There was Mark in diapers, the younger ones as newborns, and a recent group shot. There were dozens of pictures, but nowhere in any of them was a grown man who looked like a father.

…Divorced, then.

He understood it at a glance.

In America, divorce was common. The share of single-parent households was pretty high.

But that doesn’t make it any easier on the family left behind.

He watched Mark’s mother from behind.

He said she works at a restaurant.

Mark had told him on the way over. Suho could almost feel the years she’d spent holding on in this rough neighborhood, raising four kids alone. And Mark, the oldest…

So that’s why.

Why Mark, a ballplayer, always went for cheap food like burgers. Why he’d acted like such a tightwad all the time. And why he’d been so fixated on money and success.

I think I get it now, more or less.

But Suho decided to stop thinking about it. Mark was someone he owed a lot. Nothing would be ruder than making assumptions about his situation.

And besides… he’s still got it better than I did, right?

He huffed a laugh and shook his head. He’d been invited. All he had to do right now was accept the invitation.

“Suho! Hurry up and go wash your hands!”

Mark shouted from the kitchen, wearing an apron and holding a ladle. The table was loaded with pasta, still steaming, and thick-cut bread. Nothing fancy. The kids had left Suho’s seat open and were waiting for him with bright, shining eyes.

Suho smiled and set down his bag.

“Sorry. Be right there.”

On his way to the bathroom, Suho thought it over. These two weeks under one roof were going to be loud, messy and full of real, living people. That much was certain.

End of Chapter 42