Traitor if You Fail, Hero if You Succeed

I woke up in the morning, bowed my head toward the sink, and splashed cold water on my face. It was early, and I was still groggy from sleep, but I had to head to the stadium today like always. As I roughly dried my face with a towel and changed clothes, Mom's voice came from the living room.

"Son, did you make the national team?"

What the hell? I froze for a second, then poked my head out in disbelief.

"Mom, what are you talking about? The national team games are still months away. The roster doesn't come out until fall."

Mom waved her phone. "There was some article on the internet saying that."

Feeling uneasy, I grabbed my phone and turned it on. I typed my name into the search bar, and a few article headlines popped up. Reading closely, it was simple: commentator Lee Seo-jin had called me a "national team-caliber player" during the broadcast, and it got exaggerated into news. I let out a sigh ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of relief.

"Mom, it's not like that."

I turned off the screen. "They're just mentioning me because I've been doing okay lately. I'm not at that level yet."

But Mom wasn't convinced. "You never know. Rookies can make it too. I want to see my son playing for the national team."

I sighed shortly and kept getting ready to leave. "Mom, I see almost no chance. I know better than anyone what kind of player I am. I've got way too many shortcomings. And honestly, playing for the national team feels a bit overwhelming right now."

The words "national team" still weighed too heavily on me.

"Anyway, I didn't make it."

I added firmly as I put on my shoes. "Don't spread weird rumors around."

Mom nodded like she understood, and I slung my bag over my shoulder and opened the front door.

"Oh, right. Mom, did the banana and dark chocolate delivery come?"

"No, nothing like that arrived."

Damn... the order hasn't come yet.

"Got it. I'll buy some on the way."

Gu Min-seok and Hwang Do-yoon were bantering lightly on their way to work. With the game still ahead, the mood was relaxed, and their chat naturally drifted to team talk. Then Hwang Do-yoon suddenly recalled something from yesterday.

"Hey, I saw Kim Hu-seong eating macarons yesterday."

Gu Min-seok slowed his pace and turned. "For real? He's not the type to snack on that stuff."

Thinking for a moment, Gu Min-seok frowned. "Ah, that's why he asked if I had anything to eat."

Hwang Do-yoon nodded. "Doesn't he look totally wiped out no matter how you slice it?"

Gu Min-seok agreed. "Yeah. He's always pushing too hard, but lately it's worse. Leadoff and shortstop? That's insane stamina drain. We gotta force him to pump the brakes at some point."

Gu Min-seok paused, then added, "Let's tell the coach or manager when we see them. If we let it go, something's gonna give soon."

Right then, Kim Young-ho appeared at the end of the hallway. They approached naturally, and Gu Min-seok spoke first.

"Manager, got a sec?"

Kim Young-ho stopped and nodded. "What's up?"

Gu Min-seok said carefully but clearly, "I think Kim Hu-seong needs rest. As you know, leadoff and shortstop wears him out fast."

Hwang Do-yoon chimed in. "I saw him eating snacks he doesn't usually touch yesterday. That's a clear sign his energy's tanking. It's August now—stamina's definitely running low."

Kim Young-ho fell silent, pondering. The team's recent upward trend flashed in his mind. This was prime time to push. But seeing that subtle expression, Gu Min-seok pressed further.

"Manager, the MacPhais game is our fifth starter, right? We're second, so we can play it safe."

He kept going. "And our infield depth got thin from trades. That's why managing starters' stamina matters more. He needs this rest guaranteed. You've always taken good care of the pitchers, haven't you?"

Kim Young-ho exhaled shortly. His conflicted face gradually cleared.

"Fine."

He nodded. "You're ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠right. Better to sit him one game now."

He concluded. "Got it. Go on."

"Thank you, Manager."

Gu Min-seok and Hwang Do-yoon exchanged glances and nodded slightly.

After team practice, I confirmed my condition still wasn't fully back. I'd eased up since morning, adjusted training, but my legs just wouldn't respond. Should've come in late today? The thought lingered. But then I remembered the fans at the stadium entrance that morning. The few who always wait for autographs. They were there today too. Not the same faces every time, which made me extra cautious. Guess that means... early arrivals are locked in now. Sighing inwardly, I headed back to the locker room.

"Huh? Lineup's out."

Checking the posted roster, I blinked a few times. My name was missing. What? Did I screw up? As I stared in confusion, the first-team manager passed by and noticed.

"Hu-seong, you see it? You're off today."

He continued matter-of-factly. "Me? Suddenly benched?"

"Reports said you looked beat, so rest day. Sit on the bench and recharge."

Rest, huh... Yeah, makes sense since I'm drained... But they won't bench me long-term, right?

"Oh, right. No game, no drinks, got it? Don't slack and sneak one."

... This damn frugal team.

"Won't touch 'em."

I made a brief incredulous face, then nodded. His tone was calm, but mixed feelings stirred inside. Whatever—rest day means free time. What to do? Then Seo Ha-yoon popped into mind. I pulled out my phone and texted.

A grin spread across my face. Perfect! I checked the time—game start was still a bit off—and headed straight there. The cheerleaders soon left for prep, and I caught Seo Ha-yoon's eye for a quick nod before slipping in. Dimmed the lights, lay on the sofa. Whoa... woman's domain? Smells amazing. Tension melted, body sank. Then I pulled up YouTube on my phone. A familiar face and irresistible title appeared.

I hesitated, then clicked. Former pros analyzed my plays as experts.

Whoa...? Did I play like that? The replay showed me way more aggressive than I remembered—especially on the bases, running like a maniac.

"He's showing an incredibly aggressive baserunning style. Pitchers have no choice but to mind him. They're already focused on the hitter, and now a runner forcing them to split attention? Huge team advantage."

"If you don't know Kim Hu-seong well, you're likely to get burned. Not sure about against foreign players, but if it works... it'd be a killer weapon."

Watching plays I hadn't noticed, my eyes grew heavy. Phone slipped from my hand, video audio faded. I drifted into deep sleep on the sofa.

...Nngh? Opening my eyes, I sensed something major was wrong. Body felt too refreshed. Phone time check: way past. Heart dropped. Below the time, dozens of missed calls and messages piled up.

Fucked up.

A curse flashed in my mind. I bolted up and dashed out. Racing down the hall, stairs to dugout, crowd noise and broadcast sharpened. Spotting me, chief coach bellowed.

"Hey, you! Where the hell you been?!"

No time to reply, I entered the dugout. "Sorry."

Atmosphere was grim. Scoreboard: bottom 8th, 5-4 down. Silver lining—runners on 1st and 2nd. Great... already in trouble, and losing too. Then—crack! Sharp hit sound. But ball didn't travel far; 2nd base runner didn't score. Bases loaded instantly.

Then Kim Young-ho's voice. "Chief coach, that the kid who just came in—Kim Hu-seong?"

"Yes."

"Kim Hu-seong!"

I snapped to. "Here, sir."

He nodded curtly. "Get ready to pinch-hit. You good to go?"

Brain blanked a sec. Me... pinch-hitter? I glanced at the board. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Now it clicked. Barely any bench infielders left. All usable players spent. This at-bat was do-or-die; only one choice. Current batter: 9-hole Jang Ha-jun, batting just over .200. Manager naturally opting for my late .200s.

I steadied my breath, feigned nonchalance. "Rested up—condition's peak."

"Then get in there."

Fail and you're a traitor, succeed and you're a hero. But I'm already the traitor now—nothing left to lose.