Morning Assistance
Having finished preparing for school even earlier than the day before, Yoo Min-hoo grabbed his personal baseball gear and headed out. His "personal gear" wasn't much yet, since the uniforms hadn't been issued—just a towel for shadow pitching, latex bands, tubing bands, a glove for right-handed pitching, and a hand gripper.
How's the morning training schedule going to be?
Waking up early wasn't hard for him, given his daily routine of light morning runs. Stretching casually as he walked the still-unfamiliar route to school, Yoo Min-hoo soon spotted a girl struggling with an oversized bag.
That's our school uniform, isn't it?
As he pondered this, he realized her bag was a baseball equipment duffel, furrowing his brow in confusion. North Myeong High didn't have a softball team, as far as he knew. And that bag was clearly a men's model, not women's. The school wasn't far, but it looked heavy for a girl to carry.
Watching silently for a moment, Yoo Min-hoo let out a short sigh. Whoever she was, lugging a baseball gear bag meant she was connected to the team somehow. Since they were headed the same way, helping out wouldn't hurt. He quickened his pace to catch up.
"Hey."
"Yes?"
The girl, who had been trudging along with small steps, turned at the voice, looking puzzled. Spotting Yoo Min-hoo in their school uniform, she glanced around before pointing at herself and tilting her head. Her pretty face made the gesture oddly endearing.
"Looks heavy. Want me to carry it?"
Yoo Min-hoo pointed at her bag. She stared at him blankly, clearly wary of a stranger striking up conversation.
As she opened her mouth to respond, he lifted his own bag slightly.
"We're going the same way anyway."
She blinked a few times before speaking.
"You don't look like a baseball team member."
Her name tag showed she was a year below him. None of the third-year baseball players she knew matched his face. Yoo Min-hoo gave a wry smile at her guarded tone.
"I'm a transfer student."
Lee Yoon-ji paused, then nodded as realization dawned.
"So you're that guy. Still, handing my bag to a stranger..."
She started to protest with a firm expression, but trailed off as he reached over, grabbed the strap, and hoisted it effortlessly. "Wha—hey?"
Yoo Min-hoo slung the bag over his shoulder and instantly regretted it.
Shouldn't have offered.
It was heavier than expected. Muttering inwardly, he kept his face neutral.
"Let's go."
He started walking ahead. Lee Yoon-ji, stunned at how quickly he'd taken it, hurried after him.
"That's pretty heavy, you know. Give it back."
It wasn't so much anxiety about a stranger as guilt over making him carry the load.
Yoo Min-hoo glanced back calmly.
"It's fine. Don't worry about it."
"But..."
She fidgeted, face full of apology. Yoo Min-hoo chuckled softly. Lee Yoon-ji sighed in defeat.
"Thanks."
He shrugged it off nonchalantly. They walked the same route as yesterday. She kept stealing glances at him. Breaking the silence, Yoo Min-hoo asked,
"Someone in your family on the baseball team?"
"My brother's on it. Total idiot—leaves his gear behind like a moron."
She grumbled bluntly. Watching her, Yoo Min-hoo suddenly tilted his head.
She feels familiar somehow.
As he studied her, their eyes met. She blinked her big eyes and cocked her head.
"Something on my face?"
"Ah, sorry if that came off weird."
"Nah, not really."
She shook her head. Shaking off the thought, Yoo Min-hoo looked ahead—
"Hey, don't get any weird ideas."
"Hm?"
"Have we met before?"
"..."
Surprised by her voicing the exact same doubt, he raised an eyebrow.
"Dunno. First time back in Korea in ten years for me."
"Oh, really?"
She nodded along as he shrugged. Conversation lapsed. Yoo Min-hoo pondered his rehab and club activity schedule. Lee Yoon-ji occasionally peeked at him, head tilted.
They reached school soon after—around 7:15, neither late nor rushed.
"Almost there. I'll take it now."
Nearing the clubroom, she spoke up. He handed it back without protest. Slinging it on, she bowed politely.
"Thanks for the help."
Polite kid.
As he waved it off—
"Hey, Yoon-ji. What's up this early?"
A male voice called out. They turned to see Kim Ji-seok, North Myeong High's ace pitcher—a face Yoo Min-hoo recognized.
Lee Yoon-ji adjusted her bag, replying curtly,
"Dumb brother left his gear, so I brought it. Why?"
Kim Ji-seok scratched his head.
"That guy, honestly..."
He shook his head. Yoo Min-hoo watched silently before heading to the coach's office. Kim Ji-seok eyed his retreating back curiously.
"Who's that?"
"Joining the baseball team starting today."
"What?"
Kim Ji-seok looked baffled.
Recalling yesterday, Yoo Min-hoo knocked on the coach's door. "Come in." He entered. Park Sung-tae, in workout clothes prepping for training, gestured to the sofa.
Yoo Min-hoo sat. Park Sung-tae tidied some training papers, sighed, and sat across from him.
"Any idea on your rehab schedule?"
The direct question caught him off guard.
"Once the trainer's set, we start right away. Details are still pending for me too."
Park Sung-tae crossed his arms and legs, staring silently before speaking again.
"Can't pitch lefty while doing club activities, right?"
Yoo Min-hoo smiled wryly and nodded at the core concern.
"Yeah. Not until full recovery."
Leaning back, Park Sung-tae sighed deeply.
"How'd you know, anyway?"
Fame in U.S. high school baseball didn't cross oceans easily. Yoo Min-hoo chuckled.
"1.27 ERA in 15 years of high school league. Washington state high school MVP and top pitcher. Top 10 national lefty prospects, etc. Impressive resume."
He shrugged.
"Plus, it's weird. A kid from a U.S. sports powerhouse transfers senior year—12th grade there? Right when it matters most. Doesn't add up."
"How'd you know it's a sports powerhouse?"
"Played for the Seattle Bears back in the day. Went to watch a teammate's alma mater practices a few times."
Like in Korea, U.S. players often helped their old schools. Park Sung-tae had visited Washington teams multiple times.
Confirmed no left arm use, he looked mildly disappointed—expected, but he'd hoped.
"Why rehab in Korea, then?"
"Too many reporters in the U.S. to focus."
Yoo Min-hoo smiled wryly; Park Sung-tae nodded understandingly. Even high school stars drew crowds there.
"Especially with your family situation."
Thinking of Yoo Min-hoo's father, he shook his head.
"Pitching righty in Korean high school ball—underestimating us?"
"Not at all. It's just to keep my feel as a player. I'm fine with intra-team scrimmages or basic training. No ambitions for starting lineup."
Park Sung-tae blinked at his mature sincerity.
What third-year talks like an old soul?
He felt awkward for bringing it up. Scratching his head, he nodded.
"Got it. Rehab comes first—talk more once your trainer's set. Join morning training today."
"Yes, sir."
Yoo Min-hoo stood, bowed, and left. Watching him go, Park Sung-tae leaned back with a chuckle.
"Not your average guy."
His pro instincts agreed. Might be good for the team.
Diversity sparks change. Yoo Min-hoo, a top U.S. high school ace, differed from North Myeong's rigid old-school vibe. Even without boasting, his presence would influence them.
The team had stagnated too long. Park Sung-tae wanted flexibility but knew it wasn't easy. Yoo could be the lubricant.
Weak teams fall fast; strong ones rise just as quick. He knew this—and pinned hopes on it.
"Time for another fulfilling day."
Stretching, he headed to the field.