2. The Man Leaps Into the Starting Lineup (3)
Zero balls, one strike. My fingertips still tingled faintly from the whiff on the first pitch.
Even though I'd recognized it as an outside four-seam fastball the instant it left her fingertips, my bat simply couldn't catch up — the ball had blown past me on a timing far quicker than I'd anticipated.
“......”
Baek Ha-rin said nothing about my swing, simply taking the next ball in hand. Still, thanks to that swing, she was probably convinced by now that I was hunting the outside corner. She and Cha Seo-rin would never call the same spot twice in a row, which meant this one would come inside — a fastball meant to bait the whiff.
Let's take a look.
She'd been taken deep once before trying to bury an inside four-seamer, so the odds were good she'd aim it completely off the plate. And sure enough, the ball that came flying the moment it left her hand was, exactly as expected, a fastball up and in—
-Pop!
“Strike!”
It planted itself in a spot so precise I genuinely couldn't tell whether it had grazed the edge of the zone.
“How's that? See what happens when Ha-rin pitches for real?”
“...Honestly, I can barely breathe.”
“That's right, punk. Last time was just a botched pitch you happened to sneak over on.”
I knew it too. That home run had been nothing but a misthrow I'd gotten genuinely lucky against. Of course, not letting it slip by was skill in its own right — but if she put her mind to it, she'd never hand me a pitch like that twice.
Still, I'd seen two pitches now.
The first had been a four-seamer low and away; the second, a four-seamer up and in. I was starting to get a feel for how she planned to come after me.
This time, she'll drop one down.
She'd already seared her velocity and her movement into my memory, and a hitter staring down the count had no choice but to let the bat fly. So the likeliest call was a breaking ball dropping low, fishing for a chase.
...If the pitcher were anyone but Baek Ha-rin, that is.
Going by Baek Ha-rin's personality...
It would be a slider biting downward, no question. But she wouldn't bury it in the dirt — she'd throw one that barely clipped the border of the zone. It was already two outs, and with me at the plate, her pride alone would demand a three-pitch strikeout. A pitch that would get me whether I swung or stood there and watched it. The sign exchange running long all but confirmed it, so I sketched the zone for my swing in my head.
All I have to do is read whether it's fast or not.
There was only one course to attack, so all that remained was laying the bat out at the right speed. The instant Baek Ha-rin's ball left her fingertips, certain it was the slider, my bat came slashing through the bottom of the strike zone—
-Pop!
“Strike three!”
“......”
The ball had dropped far lower than anything I'd imagined, and there I stood in the batter's box, wearing a perfectly dumbfounded expression.
“You little punk, expecting that?”
“......”
“Not against my Ha-rin, you don't. Where does a man get off, trying to hit her pitching?”
Cha Seo-rin muttered something else from behind the plate, but it never reached me — I hadn't imagined for a second that Baek Ha-rin would bury the pitch completely like that.
I'd tried to play on Baek Ha-rin's psychology — her refusal to hand me so much as a single ball — but she turned out to carry mental fortitude far beyond anything I'd estimated.
...Or maybe she'd even predicted that the moment she attacked that spot, I'd go down swinging.
“...Tae-oh Oppa, are you okay?”
“...Yeah.”
“Ha-rin Sunbae's pitches were seriously fast, weren't they? It felt like they got even faster whenever you were at the plate, Oppa...”
“No kidding.”
It wasn't just the speed — it was the flawless command, driving every pitch exactly where she wanted it.
...I'll need to tweak my approach.
In that moment, I swore that my next at-bat, whatever it took, would produce something of value.
The walk back to the dugout after closing out the bottom of the second. She had barely clawed out of the jam by striking Kang Tae-oh out on three straight pitches, but Cha Seo-rin's face was anything but bright.
The instant she'd seen where his bat finally went, she'd felt as if her own mind had been read right down to the page.
No way he'd actually swing there, hunting the bottom of the zone...
He'd turned Baek Ha-rin's up-and-in mistake into a home run once before, so naturally she'd assumed he'd sit on that same spot again. Against every expectation, both of his whiffs had followed paths keyed to pitches arriving low.
Both had been dangerous swings, at that. The first was late only because the ball came in hotter than expected — the path itself had been perfect. And the second had been timed so cleanly that, had it connected, nobody would have batted an eye if it left the yard.
...And when she remembered that the spot was the very first location she herself had asked Baek Ha-rin for, the chill crawling up her spine only deepened.
Thank god Ha-rin made up her mind to bury it...
If anyone but Baek Ha-rin had been on that mound, could they have coaxed that whiffing strikeout out of Kang Tae-oh? She'd seen him properly for exactly one at-bat — but in that instant, instinct told her he was a harder out than even she had imagined.
Today, I'd better go with Ha-rin's glove no matter what.
Cha Seo-rin decided she'd call the basic pitch mix herself — but when trouble came, she would trust Baek Ha-rin's instincts.
The third inning's offense unfolded without a hitch for both teams.
-Crack!
“Out!”
-Crack!
“Out!”
In the top of the third, Han Yu-seul kept her stuff crisp as ever, retiring two batters in a row on harmless contact.
-Snap!
“Out!”
“Min Do-hee, nice catch!”
“Seriously, what is with Do-hee's defense today?”
She'd nearly served up a hit over the center fielder's head to the final batter, but Min Do-hee's second web gem of the day snuffed it out, and the top of the third came to an end.
“Strikeout!”
“Out!”
“Out!”
Baek Ha-rin, for her part, was utterly unshaken, wiping out the side in order with a strikeout, a groundout, and a flyout.
Still, she wasn't quite the overwhelming presence she'd been in the first. Ever since the third baseman's error in the second, her pitch count had been quietly piling up — she let nothing show on the surface, but it was there to see.
In the top of the fourth, Han Yu-seul did surrender a single to the top of the order, but she coaxed a flyout and a groundout from the batters that followed, escaping after working through the cleanup spot.
The defensive luck clearly ran Han Yu-seul's way today. In the infield, the Oh Yu-ra–Kim Na-hyun keystone combo, and in the outfield Min Do-hee, were erasing would-be hits one after another.
And so, after the switch, the bottom of the fourth opened with a groundout from the three-hole hitter Kwon Ye-rin and a single to right off cleanup hitter Han Ji-woo's bat — one out, a runner aboard.
-Crack!
-Pop!
“Out!”
“Ahhh, whyyy!”
The five-hole hitter, shortstop Kim Na-hyun, had barreled it up — only to fire it straight at the center fielder's chest, and it was two down with one aboard. Second baseman Oh Yu-ra stepped into the box.
“Ball!”
“Strike!”
“Foul!”
“Ball!”
“Ball!”
She watched every pitch with a level head, and the count ran full. The signs between Cha Seo-rin and Baek Ha-rin seemed to stretch on — then Baek Ha-rin gave a small nod and delivered—
-Pop!
“Ball four!”
Baek Ha-rin had thrown a pitch nearly identical to the one that had bought her my whiffing strikeout in the second — and this time it ran wide, walking the runner aboard.
Two outs, runners at first and second, and the seven-hole hitter Lee Chae-won stepping in. She took ball one, watched strike two sail by, and let her bat fly at the third pitch.
-Crack!
The glancing blow sent the ball squibbing through an awkward lane. It wasn't carrying much speed, either — the kind of grounder the third baseman should have had all day to handle—
-Fwap!
“Safe!”
“Haah... haahh...”
While the third baseman fumbled the ball out of her glove, Lee Chae-won flew down the line at full sprint and beat it out for an infield single.
“...Tsk.”
“......”
Baek Ha-rin cast a single glance toward third, and third baseman Do Yeon-seo dropped her head as if to apologize.
It went into the books as an infield hit, but it was a play begging to be made — I could hardly blame her for the irritation.
“Batting eighth, Kang Tae-oh.”
And so, courtesy of Lee Chae-won's hit, a bases-loaded chance had come calling for me. Two outs, bases loaded — it didn't weigh on me one bit. With runners on the bases or without, what mattered was the psychological duel with the pitcher.
“Back again, huh?”
“I know. Didn't figure I'd be standing in here again as soon as the fourth.”
When I let slip, ever so casually, that Baek Ha-rin was rattled, Cha Seo-rin's face creased a little.
“...Whew.”
Baek Ha-rin exhaled a slightly ragged breath, her eyes locked on me from the mound. She'd probably throw six innings today and call it a day, which meant this might be the last chance the two of us would get to square off. Even if she stayed in, there was no telling whether Yoon Gaeul would grant me a third plate appearance — though if I scratched out a walk here, she'd likely let me stand in at least once more...
...No counting on luck.
What it would take to nail down this hard-won chance, no two ways about it, was a hit.
I whipped the bat around on pure reflex at the high four-seamer leading things off.
-Tink!
“Foul!”
The ball grazed the end of the bat and sailed back behind the plate. It wasn't barreled — but it was still the first time today my bat had found Baek Ha-rin's pitch. And that alone told me, faintly but unmistakably, that her power had started to slip.
“Ball!”
“Foul!”
“Ball!”
“Foul!”
“Foul!”
“Ball!”
Anything that looked like it might so much as clip the zone, I hacked at and fouled away. Pitches so filthy I couldn't even contemplate swinging went by as balls. By the time the seventh pitch had been fought off, the count had somehow run full.
“Take it! Take it!”
“A walk works too!”
Two outs, bases loaded — me simply reaching base would push across the go-ahead run. It wasn't that I thought a free pass was worthless, but this was no time to be praying for one. I was dead certain Baek Ha-rin would never walk me.
-Tink!
“Foul!”
The eighth pitch grazed the bat and rocketed backward. Cha Seo-rin yanked off her mask and looked back, but the ball had already smacked the netting above the backstop and was on its way down.
“Whoa......”
Eight pitches from Baek Ha-rin. Five of them fouled off — a full-count war of attrition, ground out pitch by pitch.
“...Whew.”
Baek Ha-rin wrapped her fingers around the ninth ball, exchanged signs with Cha Seo-rin — and didn't shake her head.
-Whooosh!
Her ninth pitch came bearing down on my bat.