The Effect
"Hey. You been eating something good lately?"
"Huh? Me? No?"
"Then why does your face look so damn bright?"
"He was always good-looking, though."
"No, really, look at him. He’s definitely gotten better."
"...Me?"
"Yeah. You might’ve gotten a little handsomer too."
"······"
"If you’ve got something good, let your hyung in on it. Take a look at my face. It’s wrinkled all over now, and I’ve got a lot on my mind."
"Y-yes, sir···"
The day after I’d met Miju, I heard that kind of thing the moment I got to the stadium.
If it had only been one person, I would’ve laughed it off, but everyone who saw me had something to say about how much better I looked.
When I checked the mirror, I could tell something about me had changed too.
Like I’d somehow become more put together than before.
It wasn’t some dramatic transformation, but something about me felt different—my whole vibe, maybe.
"Well, damn... so it wasn’t just Miju who changed. This thing works on me too?"
Not bad.
Getting more handsome was definitely a plus.
My actual skill as a baseball player mattered most, of course, but I couldn’t ignore my looks either. Popularity in this sport absolutely depended on appearances, too.
But...
"No way that’s all there is, right?"
That was a little different from what Jumi had said.
Or maybe I’d misunderstood her?
No, wait. She definitely said mine would improve too... and my skills, too.
"Whatever. I’ll know once I throw."
A little later, while I was doing bullpen pitching, I noticed my shoulder felt lighter than usual.
But that was all.
Nothing especially shocking happened.
"Good stuff today!"
"Thank you."
My stuff was the kind you’d expect on a day when I felt in good shape.
That was about it.
Because my expectations had been so high, the disappointment hit that much harder.
And I took every last bit of it out on Jumi.
"Then go out there and actually pitch in a game! We’ll know right away whether I was right or not! And what the hell are you expecting after doing it just once?"
Of course, all that earned me was a scolding.
Three days passed after Miju had visited our place.
I’d completely forgotten about the change Jumi had promised.
When you don’t feel anything, that’s just what happens.
There was no chance to take the mound over the weekend, and then Monday came and went as a day off. Tuesday—the start of the week for a baseball player—arrived.
In this game, we’d been locked in a one-run battle through the fifth inning, with us trailing by a run.
Top of the sixth. Our starter had come out, and with the need to prevent any more runs if we wanted to mount a comeback, the pitcher chosen by the manager was me.
Probably the pitching coach had recommended me. My bullpen work over the past few days had kept looking decent.
"Use the fastball to get ahead, then finish him with the sinker."
"Got it."
It was always the same.
To be honest, our starting catcher, Tae-hwa hyung, was fantastic at the plate, but behind it... well, that was another story.
Maybe he thought I could only throw four-seamers and sinkers, because he always called for those two and only those two.
Even though I could throw a slider, a changeup, and a curveball, too.
Didn’t that make him partly responsible for my decline? If my patterns were that obvious, who the hell would struggle against my pitches?
Not that I could say anything about it.
He had a lot of clout on the team, and he was the textbook definition of a kkondae.
One careless word and it was obvious I’d be the only one who lost out.
A bullpen pitcher with no influence had no choice but to do what he was told...
I nodded at the sign for a first-pitch fastball.
Then I went into my delivery right away.
Fwaaang!
"Woooaaah!"
The moment the ball hit the mitt, the crowd exploded.
What the hell? Sure, it was a perfect pitch on the outer edge, but enough to get that kind of reaction?
Even Tae-hwa hyung looked stunned as he stared at me.
"What the hell is going on? What’s wrong—huh?"
What was this?
Why was that number on the scoreboard?
153 km/h
That was my personal best.
I’d never hit that speed since debuting as a pro.
Even at my very best, the highest I’d ever reached was 151 km/h.
"Jumi..."
Jumi hadn’t been lying. Just like she said, improvement had come to me.
That little spirit I’d found so irritating and infuriating suddenly started to look adorable.
"This is what I get for doing it once? Then what happens if I do it a lot? Could I even hit 160?"
Tae-hwa hyung wanted another fastball.
Again, he called for the outer edge.
But the instant I let go of the pitch, I knew I’d missed my spot.
The ball drifted toward the middle.
But...
Bwoooong.
"Strike!"
"WOOOAAAHHH!"
The roar was even louder than before.
And once again, 153 km/h lit up on the board.
Even though it was a mistake pitch, the sheer quality of it drew a swing and miss.
Then I finished him with the sinker.
The batter couldn’t even touch the 150 km/h sinker.
Three pitches, three strikes.
"This is insane."
I got through the top of the sixth with a clean three-up, three-down inning.
Two strikeouts. Not a single ball in play made it past the infield.
"Hey, Park Jun-young. What the hell happened?"
"I-I dunno. Haha..."
"Nice work. Nice work. That’s all you need to do."
"Yes, sir."
Everyone praised me, but especially our captain and ace, Seong-hun hyung, who looked almost happier than if it had happened to himself.
He really was a good guy, after all.
"Jun-young. You can go one more inning, right?"
"Yes! I can do it."
"Good. Let’s keep this going. Okay?"
"Yes, sir!"
The pitching coach patted me on the shoulder before heading off.
It had been a long time since I’d been treated like this, and it felt good—though a little unfamiliar too.
I shut them down cleanly through the top of the seventh and handed the mound over.
Two innings pitched, no hits, no walks, no runs.
I’d retired six batters in order without allowing a single runner.
Even better, our offense had scored in the meantime, taking the lead.
But I didn’t get the win.
The pitcher who came in after me couldn’t hold it.
We gave the lead back and lost the game.
"Tch."
What could I do?
When I thought about all the games I’d already blown, I couldn’t even afford to be that disappointed.
* * *
As soon as I got home, I went looking for Jumi first.
Thankfully, she hadn’t gone wandering off somewhere. She was waiting for me at home like a good little ghost.
I grabbed her and unloaded everything on her all at once.
After I’d ranted for a good while and finally waited for an answer—
"Are you crazy? Why the hell is this happening?"
She acted like I was a lunatic.
Had I talked too much?
But I was desperate.
"I’m asking you how that thing is going!"
What I meant, after all my frantic explanation, was this:
I needed the act. When could I do it again?
"Ohhh~ So you pitched today?"
"······"
"How was it? Pretty good, right?"
"Yeah. It was incredible. So..."
"Just wait a little. Miju’s preparing hard, so..."
"Ah..."
I grew restless.
I couldn’t shake the fear that this sudden rise in skill might disappear at any moment.
If I wanted to avoid that, it felt like I needed to do it again as soon as possible.
I wished she’d at least tell me what exactly she was preparing, but she didn’t seem intent on explaining a thing.
All she kept saying was that I was doing well and should wait.
Unlike me, Jumi was calm.
She had no idea how desperate I was.
As I silently cursed her out, another thought crossed my mind.
"If I can’t find anyone else..."
Couldn’t Miju do it?
We’d already done it once. There was no reason we couldn’t do it a second time.
But before I even said it, Jumi seemed to read my mind.
"Miju’s out. What, are you trying to work her to death? She needs time to recover too."
"Huh? You said there was no damage to the body."
"There’s no damage, but she still has to fill back up."
"I’m fine, though."
"You and Miju are different."
So she said.
I didn’t know any better, so I’d have to take her word for it.
"Then how long does it take...?"
"At least a week."
"······"
"And for you, too."
"Ah..."
So that’s how it was.
A week.
At least that was a relief. Miju’s recovery time and my own improvement cycle were the same.
* * *
The top of the sixth inning ended.
"Jun-young, get ready."
"Yes, sir."
I was chosen two days in a row.
But the difference from yesterday was that this time it was the top of the seventh.
Usually, one of the setup men would come in for the seventh.
And yet they were calling me? While we were up by two runs?
Looks like the manager wanted to test me.
To see whether he could use me in the late innings again.
Come to think of it, not only in yesterday’s game but in the one before that, I’d pitched pretty well too.
Enough to earn the win in a game that went into extra innings.
The manager had always intended to use me as part of the late-inning relief corps anyway...
"If I pitch well today, I might really move up."
We were in the middle of a tight fifth-place race, and now I could actually aim for a meaningful spot in the bullpen.
When the bottom of the sixth ended, I left the bullpen and headed to the mound.
Not long ago, our fans would sigh the moment they saw me coming in.
But today was different.
"Park Jun-young, fighting!"
"Jun-young, let’s do just like yesterday!"
"He’s hot!"
From drunk middle-aged men to young women.
All I heard were cheers for me.
And all because I’d blown it so many times before, then pitched well in just two games.
"Jun-young hyung. How do you want to attack them?"
Today it wasn’t Tae-hwa hyung behind the plate, but Do-hun, the backup catcher.
I was more comfortable working with Do-hun than with Tae-hwa hyung.
His defense was better, and I liked his pitch selection better too.
"I’ll throw whatever you call for."
"Come on... we already showed them the sinker yesterday, so how about starting with the slider today?"
"Works for me."
"Yep!"
I started with the slider.
The fastball drew a foul.
A curveball that bit out of nowhere froze the bat, but the result was only a ball.
Then I went back to the slider and got a swinging strikeout.
After that, I used the sinker and fastball to coax two more batters into grounders.
Another three-up, three-down inning.
I came off the mound after throwing only eight pitches.
"Jun-young’s really come around."
"Thank you."
"You little punk, you should’ve come around this fast a little earlier. The season’s almost over..."
"Ah..."
"Keep it up next year too, just like this."
"Yes, sir."
I resent my past self.
What if I’d listened to Jumi from the very beginning?
Then I’d have been flying in the second half.
Maybe, just maybe, I would’ve even had a shot at the closer’s job, which our team had only been holding onto with a few complaints.
"Sigh..."
I let out a breath even after finishing the game well.
Still, there was one piece of good news.
"Jun-young is currently throwing the best ball in our bullpen. Of course he’ll be on the mound in the important moments."
The manager had openly said in an interview that he planned to use me in key situations.
I felt like I was finally about to take my place back.
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