1. A Man Hits a Home Run (3)
"Hey, Home Run King."
The next day.
The moment I pushed open the equipment room door, Cha Seo-rin's voice came flying at me. She stood there with her catcher's gear slung over one shoulder, watching me with a mischievous grin.
"Sign this for me, would you? You're the home run hitter who squared up none other than Baek Ha-rin's pitching, after all."
"As long as it's not something like a contract, I'll sign anything you like."
"...Tch. No fun at all."
When I answered without giving her much of a reaction, Cha Seo-rin seemed to lose interest on the spot, abandoning her teasing halfway through.
"Still, I'll say this — your form looked decent on the video. Guess you've been playing baseball a while?"
"I wouldn't say I played a little."
"Then again, didn't our school have a men's baseball club or something? If you love baseball that much, why not go join a place like that?"
"I like baseball, not men's baseball."
In this world, men's baseball was different from the real thing down to its very rules — the distance between the mound and the plate was shortened, base stealing was only permitted after the catcher had already caught the pitcher's delivery, and on and on. Rather than call that baseball, I was better off here, even if I never got to swing a bat at all.
"Hey, that was actually kind of cool, what you just said. Though really, what kind of baseball is a bunch of guys toying around with a ball anyway? Right?"
"You're messing with me, aren't you?"
"What do you think? Still, look at you — hit one fluke home run and now you're walking around all tensed up."
"That never happened."
"Sure, sure. Once you've moved all the batting balls, fill up the water jugs too, Mr. Home Run King."
...Well, I'd more or less expected this. A single swing wasn't going to change how anyone saw the idea of a man playing baseball.
Even back in my original world, before I transmigrated into this body, nobody would have suddenly urged a woman to go pro just because she happened to belt one home run in a well-timed at-bat.
'Your form looked decent on the video.'
"......"
Still, Cha Seo-rin's compliment did brighten my mood a little. She'd tossed it out like a joke, but knowing her personality, it hadn't been an empty remark.
Carrying the balls toward the indoor training facility with that thought in mind, I spotted a long-haired left-handed pitcher. Whoooosh!
"Nice ball!"
It was Baek Ha-rin, loosening up in the bullpen despite having no start scheduled today. I could pretty much guess why. Apparently the home run she'd given up to me yesterday had rattled her more than she cared to show.
Baek Ha-rin wasn't one for many words, but anyone on the Chaewon University baseball team knew how fierce her pride was. Even the bullpen catcher looked more on edge than usual receiving her pitches — the whole atmosphere warned that if you poked her temper the wrong way today, you'd be the one dealing with the fallout.
Zing!
"......?"
Pop!!
"154."
"Haa... haa..."
The pitching coach beside her called it out while checking the radar gun. Full-effort bullpen pitching on a day with no start on the line. I recalled her next starting assignment was already scheduled — surely she didn't intend to keep throwing like this until then.
'Hah. And here I am, worried about her of all people.'
Wishing I could stand in the batter's box or run the bases just once, even as a sub, I went about preparing for the scrimmage the way I always did.
My home run off Baek Ha-rin hadn't changed a thing about the Chaewon University baseball team's routine. I was still the equipment boy, and even with the season opener right around the corner, my existence was entirely absent from Coach Yoon Gaeul's lineup plans.
Even in the practice games against other universities — games where reserve infielders, backup catchers, freshman recruits, and second-string pitchers all got their chance at least once — my name was never called.
"Tae-oh, grab a few more of the new bats."
"Yes."
"Ah, and bring another box of game balls while you're at it."
"Understood."
Not a pinch hitter, not a pinch runner, not even a defensive replacement — just the errand boy. Still lugging a water jug instead of a bat, pacing the edges of the field.
A man hitting a home run was more than enough to set the internet abuzz, but a man playing in real, official baseball was a genuinely different story altogether.
"Do-hee, get ready!"
"Yes!"
Min Do-hee, who'd slapped a bunt single off Baek Ha-rin just yesterday, stepped into the box and — exactly like the day before — chopped down a surprise bunt without a moment's hesitation and took off for first.
Thwack!
"Run, run!"
"She's flying, Min Do-hee!"
On a razor-close play, she dove headfirst and slid into first base.
"Safe!"
"Atta girl, Do-hee!"
"Yes!"
She'd entered as a pinch runner in the seventh, then in the ninth she stepped to the plate without being lifted for a pinch hitter and laid down another bunt single to reach base. For a freshman enrolling this very year, the way the team was already deploying her made it a safe bet she'd claim a spot on the C League roster.
Of course, she'd always had the talent, so she'd have earned a spot regardless — but there was no doubt yesterday's bunt single had been the catalyst.
"Jealous?"
Cha Seo-rin's voice drifted over from beside me.
"Do I look it?"
"Yep. Like fucking crazy."
I'd been about to brush it off with my usual denial, but that would have come off as an obvious lie to anyone watching, so I didn't bother.
"I am jealous. But I saw it coming, so I can't say I'm crushed or anything."
"Is that so."
"If it weren't for Coach, I wouldn't even have gotten that one at-bat in yesterday's scrimmage. I got lucky enough to swing at one of Baek Ha-rin's pitches — I'm satisfied with that."
"...Hey. If you really want to play baseball that badly, want me to introduce you to a men's team? My brother plays for one — even for men's baseball, it's got its own sponsors and everything..."
"I told you, I'm not playing men's baseball. What kind of baseball is that even supposed to be?"
"...Whatever. Suit yourself."
So Cha Seo-rin could make a face like that, too. It was proof my own expression had soured worse than I'd realized, so I forced a smile onto my face.
Being treated as less than a bench option was nothing new — it was an experience I'd grown familiar with ever since my high school days in this world.
"I'll go fill the water."
Ducking away from the pity in Cha Seo-rin's eyes, I was filling the water jug when a cheer erupted from the field. Judging by the voices, Min Do-hee had just swiped a base. Hearing it, a thought crossed my mind, unbidden.
...I wished that, just once, another chance to prove myself out there on the field would come my way — the way it did for her.
The day before the intra-squad scrimmage that would serve as Baek Ha-rin's final check before the starting rotation.
After practice ended, Baek Ha-rin stopped in front of Coach Yoon Gaeul's office and knocked lightly.
"Come in."
She opened the door to find Yoon Gaeul seated at her desk, studying a lineup sheet. Her own start tomorrow was no doubt written there.
With that thought, Baek Ha-rin laid before her coach the problem that had been gnawing at her for days, ever since that last appearance on the mound.
"Coach."
"What is it."
"About tomorrow's scrimmage."
"Right. It's the final check on your starting role, Ha-rin."
"Yes."
The last practice game before the college league opened at the end of March.
"How's the arm?"
"No issues."
"Good. I'm counting around eighty pitches. If the situation calls for it, you might go as high as ninety."
"Understood."
"Throw loose and easy. Even if you can't get through five innings and have to come out early, there's no chance of you missing the C League roster."
"......Yes."
After the short reply, Baek Ha-rin fell silent for a moment. Only then did Yoon Gaeul seem to catch on that something more was on her mind; she set down her pen and lifted her gaze to her.
"What, is there something else?"
"I have something to say about tomorrow's scrimmage roster."
"...Let's hear it."
"Put Kang Tae-oh in the lineup."
"......"
"I don't care if he starts or anything else. Just once — all I'm asking is that you put him in the batter's box while I'm on the mound..."
"Baek Ha-rin."
"......Yes."
At the low, cold drop of Yoon Gaeul's voice, Baek Ha-rin bowed her head.
"Lineups are the head coach's authority alone."
"...I apologize."
"Ace pitcher of this school or not, you don't get a say in who goes in and who sits."
"...I know."
"And one home run surrendered doesn't diminish your worth. Once the C League starts at the end of March, that chatter will die out on its own anyway — don't go swaying with every passing storm of public opinion."
"......Yes."
Under the drumbeat of Yoon Gaeul's rebukes, Baek Ha-rin couldn't bring herself to raise her head. Even by her own assessment, the request had been shameless.
She knew perfectly well how little sense her own behavior made — marching into the head coach's office to demand a rematch for no reason other than that a man had taken her pitch deep. She had simply, greedily, wanted to face Kang Tae-oh again, and that want had outweighed her better judgment.
The pitch she'd thrown had simply been a mistake — that was all there was to it. If she had pitched with everything she had, she could strike out a male practice player, someone who wasn't even a registered member of the team, in every single at-bat he'd ever get against her.
...And more than anything, she had wanted to prove to herself that she was not a pitcher who could be shaken by one home run off the bat of a man like that.
"Don't you ever meddle in my lineups again. If you understand, get out."
"......Yes."
And so Baek Ha-rin left the head coach's office without the answer she wanted, carrying nothing out with her but the scolding.
Creeeak.
"...Ah."
"......"
The instant she stepped outside, she found herself face to face with Kang Tae-oh, who happened to be standing right in front of the head coach's office.
"Were you eavesdropping?"
Baek Ha-rin asked in a low voice, her eyes fixed on me.
"On what?"
Honestly, I had caught a bit of it — but out of respect for Baek Ha-rin's pride, I played dumb. ...Not that her expression suggested she believed me for a second.
"...Don't get carried away just because you happened to connect on one mistake pitch."
"I'm not."
"......Hmph."
I hadn't crossed paths with Baek Ha-rin in a while, so I hadn't realized — but judging by this reaction, she'd dug her heels in on this one, hard. Her pride really was a stubborn, infuriating thing.
Knock, knock, knock.
"Coach, may I come in?"
"Come in."
I opened the door, and Coach Yoon Gaeul lifted her head from her desk.
"Here — the assistant coach asked me to drop these stat files off..."
"Set them down there."
"Yes."
If I so much as glanced around the room, it would betray that I'd just overheard her conversation with Baek Ha-rin — so I set the files down briskly, and just as I turned to slip out—
"Tae-oh."
"Yes."
"Before you go, have a seat."
At Coach Yoon Gaeul's words, I quietly took the chair across from her.