A Slightly Different Baseball Player
"Hah..."
The moment I got back to my empty apartment, a sigh escaped me before I could stop it.
I dragged my feet into my room, switched on the light, and flopped face-first onto the bed.
"At this rate, am I really going to get kicked off the team?"
I’d completely blown today’s game.
We’d been up by two runs in the sixth, and with one out and runners on first and third, I came in as the second pitcher.
"I told them I wasn’t feeling right, damn it..."
I’d said it before the game even started.
I told them my body wasn’t normal today.
And yet, whether they heard me or not, they dragged me onto the mound anyway.
Then I walked a batter, gave up a grand slam, and had to trudge off the mound while every curse imaginable got thrown my way.
I was a pro baseball player.
A bullpen pitcher.
I’d started in the high-leverage relief corps, but now I’d been pushed down into the bridge crew, barely hanging on by my fingertips.
My ERA, with the season nearly over, was in the mid-fives.
"I was doing fine up until midseason... fuck."
Until just before the All-Star Game, I’d been holding a mid-threes ERA and taking the mound in important moments.
But after the break, everything started going wrong.
And I knew exactly why.
"Ha... please, I’m begging you, get the hell out of my place. Why are you doing this to me, anyway?"
This thing in front of me.
No, I had to call it what it was: the thing that had once been a woman.
Not a ghost... not anything I could name.
"So I’m telling you, let’s make a deal."
"On what basis am I supposed to trust you?"
"I told you already! I’m not some petty spirit! I’m saying I’ll make everything work out for you, so why won’t you believe me? Why!"
"Would you believe that if you were me? Some ghostly thing I’ve never seen before shows up out of nowhere and wants to make a deal?"
"I’m not a ghost! And you won’t suffer any harm from this!"
"You said you’d take something from me! How am I supposed to know what that is!"
"You idiot... no wonder your stats are garbage."
"It’s because of you! You! You!"
It was always like this.
My conversations with that mysterious something that insisted it wasn’t a ghost always went exactly this way.
It had appeared before me on the night of the All-Star Game.
Since I had nothing to do with the All-Star festivities, I’d been taking it easy at home when I first saw it.
Actually, ever since I was little, I’d had the ability to see things other people couldn’t.
But it wasn’t the kind of ghost you saw in TV shows or movies, more like a faint something, barely there.
As I grew older, I realized other people couldn’t see even that much, and after that I stopped telling anyone about it.
And once I noticed those things never actually did anything to me, even I stopped caring much about them.
That is, until this thing appeared.
"You’re kicking away a fortune that fell right into your lap. All you have to do is work with me, and I’ll give you not only success as a baseball player but all the money you love so much!"
"If it’s such a great offer, why are you making it to me? Isn’t that suspicious as hell?"
"How many times do I have to say it? I’ve only ever seen two people who can talk to me like this!"
"Then go to that person instead of me..."
"That one won’t do! No way!"
Watching this thing grow more and more frustrated made the stress that had been building up inside me ease a little.
This conversation between me and it had been going on almost every day for months.
Always the same questions and the same answers. I’d already talked to it so much there was hardly anything left to say.
Sometimes I even caught myself thinking, Should I just try it once?
But the reason I never did was...
"No matter how you slice it, you’re still telling me a guy who appears on TV should go running around after women?"
What was I supposed to do about that?
"Who said anything about running after them? If you just do what I tell you, the women will come looking for you."
"And what if I run into someone who knows my face?"
"Who would even know you..."
"People recognize me plenty. I’m the handsome baseball player whose name is always on the screen. What are you talking about?"
"Go outside sometime. Faces like yours are everywhere."
"......"
That one stung. A lot.
I did have a fair amount of pride in my looks, after all.
Common? That was taking it too far.
"You haven’t been able to meet a single woman for years, and you’re still worried about your pride..."
"...fuck."
It looked like it had decided to go straight for the throat today.
It kept jabbing at me, and my chest hurt so bad I could’ve sworn it was burning.
"I’m not saying you have to do anything crazy with women. Of course, if you can, that’d be best, but I’m willing to compromise to that extent."
"So what, you’re saying I just have to press down on the spots I can see?"
"Yeah. I can make you that way."
"Ha..."
"And if you do that, it’ll help you too. Your dogshit skills will go up, too!"
"D-dogshit?"
"I’ll make you the best in the league. If you just take my hand."
Every time I heard that, I couldn’t help but get interested.
It was baseball, the thing I loved most and wanted to be best at. And this thing was telling me it could make me better at it...
I was grateful just to be a bullpen pitcher right now, but that didn’t mean I was satisfied with this spot forever.
If I was going to pitch out of the bullpen, I at least wanted to become a closer.
A reliable finisher who earned applause from the fans.
"Show me."
"What?"
"No, you’ve got to show me how you’d improve me first if you want me to believe you and even consider making a deal. A sample. Yeah. You’ve got to show me a sample."
"...I-is that even a thing?"
"Why wouldn’t it be?"
"......"
It seemed to think about it for a while, then vanished without a word.
Usually, when it disappeared like that, it wouldn’t show itself again for days.
"If I go out tomorrow, I feel like I’ll be able to pitch pretty well."
As long as I couldn’t see it, I could pitch like I had in the first half.
It wasn’t just a feeling, either; I’d actually experienced it more than once.
"No matter how I look at it, that thing’s taking something from me."
There was no other explanation.
The days I saw it in the morning and then went out were the days I blew games.
Even this morning, the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes in bed was that thing.
And I’d ruined the game.
I was willing to bet it had stayed beside me all night while I slept, doing something sneaky.
So why was it trying to make a deal with me while it was doing that?
I’d thought about that for a long time.
And my conclusion was this.
"It’s short."
Apparently, what it was taking from me alone wasn’t enough.
Otherwise it wouldn’t be clinging to me this hard.
That was exactly why I couldn’t trust it.
It felt like it was secretly draining my body dry. How was I supposed to believe that?
Besides, it claimed there was another woman who could see it too, like I could. It wanted me to do something with women, but said that person couldn’t because she was a woman... that didn’t make sense.
Why didn’t that woman just meet a man, then?
"And it won’t even tell me what it is."
It swore up and down it wasn’t a ghost, so I asked what the hell it was instead, but it refused to answer.
When I asked if it was some kind of devil or demon, it laughed for so long I’d never felt more embarrassed in my life.
When I asked if it was some goblin or dokkaebi, it said no to that too.
Then what the hell are you?
From top to bottom, it was nothing but contradictions.
* * *
The first thing I did when I woke up the next morning was look around my room.
My place was a small one-bedroom apartment, so a single glance was enough to sweep the room.
"Gone. It’s gone. Good."
I felt great.
I’d never been so relieved.
"Yeah. This is how a day should start."
Humming to myself, I got ready and headed to the stadium.
After going through my usual pregame routine, I made my way over to the pitching coach.
"Coach."
"Oh, Jun-young, you’re here."
"I’m feeling good today."
"...Really?"
"Yes. You know me. When I say I feel good, I really feel good."
"Yeah. And when you say you don’t feel good, you really don’t."
"Exactly. Yesterday my body was really..."
"So today you’re confident?"
"Leave it to me!"
"...All right. Got it."
That’s why a person had to live honestly.
He believed me because I told the truth.
I wished he’d believed me yesterday too, but what could I do? That game was already in the past.
"Hey! Park Jun-young! For the love of God, throw the ball straight, you bastard!"
Hm. The game hadn’t even started yet, and there was already a drunk fan in the stands.
I got it. Yesterday was, even by my own standards, pretty...
"Sorry. I’ll do better today."
"No, you idiot! Don’t even come out! Just stay nailed where you are!"
"I’m sorry."
I wasn’t all that hurt by it.
Even I thought my mentality was pretty strong.
"I can handle this much living with that crazy-ass thing. If it were anyone else, they’d have been in and out of a hospital by now."
"You’re okay, right, Jun-young?"
Our captain, Seong-hun, patted me on the shoulder and spoke in his usual warm, good-natured voice.
He was the person I envied most.
Even in his mid-thirties, he was still the team’s ace, and his salary was enormous.
He was married to Kim Hyun-young, who’d once been a top idol and one of the biggest celebrities in the country, and they were doing very well together.
He was just the kind of guy whose life seemed to go right no matter what.
How could I not be jealous?
"Of course."
"You said you were feeling fine today?"
"Yes."
"Good. Then I’m counting on you for the back half today."
"Ah... and then you’ll probably still pitch all the way to the ninth, won’t you?"
"Puh-huh. I’m getting old now, so it’s tough."
"Understood. I’ll do well if the chance comes."
"Yeah~"
Before long, the game began.
Seong-hun started on the mound, went six innings and gave up two runs, then came down.
Then came the top of the seventh, with us leading 5-2.
"Tsk. Looks like this one’s gone."
The high-leverage crew got called in.
At that point, my appearance was basically off the table.
Crack!
Crack!
Crack!
The game started turning wild.
We gave up two runs in the top of the seventh, making it 5-4, and by the time the bottom of the eighth ended, it was tied 6-6.
In the top of the ninth, our closer, Moon Chan-young, came in and got two outs, then served up a solo homer, and it looked like we were going to lose in dramatic fashion again. But luckily, we answered with a game-tying solo shot in the bottom of the ninth, and the game went to extras.
And I took the mound in the top of the eleventh.
The crowd grew loud.
Our home fans were already groaning just at the sight of my name, while the visiting fans started getting excited for the same reason.
"I said I’m in good shape today."
"Strike! Out!"
148 km/h
For a lefty, that kind of velocity was considered pretty damn useful.
When I was younger, I’d been throwing harder than this, and people used to talk about me as a promising left-handed starter...
Too bad. But what could I do? I’d never done well as a starter.
I got through the top of the eleventh with three batters.
One strikeout and two infield grounders.
The home fans who’d been booing me started cheering.
That’s how it went. Even if you were a disaster yesterday, if you looked decent today, they’d cheer for you.
Time passed, and we reached the top of the twelfth.
Crack!
A high pop-up drifted into the outfield.
Center fielder Hui-uk took a few easy steps forward and made the catch safely, and the third out was recorded.
"Nice one, Jun-young!"
"Good work~"
"You killed it today. Heh."
"Everybody has days like this."
I got the win.
See? I told you. As long as that thing stayed away, I was fine.