A Gentle Melody and Father's Reluctant Nod
When I stood in front of the door to the practice room, the soft strains of a violin filtered down the hallway from the far end. The director's words from earlier kept swirling in my mind, but the moment I heard that violin, they began to fade away bit by bit. Sure enough, there was Yoo Sera in the center of the room, bow moving in that familiar motion as she played.
This time, I made sure to announce myself quietly as I stepped inside—no startling her like last time. The instant I entered, Sera turned her body just slightly toward me without missing a beat in her playing. Her bow kept gliding, but her eyes met mine. It was a greeting delivered through a smile instead of words.
— Hi. Come on in.
Yoo Sera greeted me with her lips, even as she played. She could have spoken outright, of course, but it felt like she didn't want to interrupt the beautiful music she was creating herself. Her soft smile and welcoming words made me feel like I was floating on a cloud. All the gripes from waking up early and dragging myself to school vanished in an instant.
Ah… If I could see this every day… I'd come early anytime.
Even the baseball worries that had been weighing me down moments ago blurred like a dream. But then I couldn't hold her gaze for long and looked away awkwardly. I was starting to feel strangely hot, my face burning up. Pretending nothing was wrong, I quietly headed to my desk and flopped down, forehead against the cool surface. Only then did I realize just how flushed I was.
I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm my pointless nerves. The violin didn't stop. If anything, it filled the room even more gently now, more slowly. Each note seemed to roll across the desk like a pebble, and when I closed my eyes, my thoughts didn't organize—they just quietly scattered. Worries, pressures, anxieties about tomorrow… all pushed behind the sound.
I surrendered to the violin, face down on the desk. My consciousness blurred. And with that melody as my lullaby, I drifted back into a slow sleep.
Just as I was sinking into a deep slumber, the violin stopped.
Ah… Don't stop.
I sat up with a regretful look.
"Oh? You're not asleep. Failed this time, huh?"
"Nah, I was almost there. But… it was a bit short…"
"Was it?"
"Yeah."
Yoo Sera beamed.
"Actually, I did that on purpose~. I mean, flopping right down like that? Hmph."
"Ah… sorry…"
Next time, maybe savor it a little before lying down. No, but this time it couldn't be helped. With a look like that, my heart wouldn't have survived.
"And you're a little late, too."
Uh… that…
"Uh… I had a reason for being late."
"What is it? I hope it wasn't oversleeping?"
Sera said with a pout.
"No, there's a solid reason. I was definitely here on time."
"Then tell me. What's the reason?"
"Well… I ran into the baseball coach and director inside the school. So we talked for a bit…"
"You saw the baseball director and coach? Why?"
Sera looked curious.
Hmm… Should I spill it already? I hesitated for a split second, but I had to tell the truth. For some reason, I wanted to.
"Well… They asked me to join the baseball team."
"The baseball team? Oh! So that was you!"
Sera looked a little surprised but smiled brightly. Yeah, it was me. I hadn't fully decided to join yet. But… I was starting to lean one way.
The moment lunchtime hit, I wolfed down my food and headed straight to the baseball field. The coach had said to meet briefly during lunch.
"I'm here, Coach."
When I arrived at the field, the coach was standing off to one side. As I approached, he looked at me with a calm expression, like he'd already sorted everything out in his head.
"Good, you're here. I called you to talk about what we're doing with you going forward."
"Yes, sir. Please go ahead."
"For now, we'll focus on building your body with running and stretching."
Sound advice. I'd been out for a while. A lot of muscle had atrophied. Sure, the break had left me healthy in other ways, but to be a proper baseball player, I needed to rebuild.
"Especially intense fitness training for your lower body and core. Underhand pitching has a different form from overhand styles, but the foundation of any pitch is still the legs."
"What about games, then?"
"Hmm… You're not officially on the team yet, and even if you were, jumping into games right away might be tough. Our roster's thin, so I'd love to get you in as soon as possible. But you need basic fielding skills first, and above all… we don't know if your pitches will fool hitters yet."
"Got it."
"Yeah. Let's get you ready for at least a small game in the second half of the season. And… come back after classes today. Time to officially introduce you to the team."
"Pardon?"
I panicked inwardly. Things were moving way faster than expected. I hadn't fully sorted my feelings yet.
"Uh… I haven't decided yet? This is progressing too quickly."
My voice came out weaker than I intended. The coach glanced at me, then shook his head slowly.
"No, the sooner the better. And honestly, you look like you've already decided to me."
His tone was matter-of-fact, but it hit home.
"You're in, right?"
…
"Yes."
After classes ended, I headed straight to the school baseball field. The team was already lined up on one side of the diamond—a familiar yet strange sight.
The coach stood in front and nodded shortly when he saw me, signaling to proceed. He scanned everyone once, then introduced me formally.
"This is Kim Jeong-ui, rejoining the baseball team. He's a pitcher, and we've confirmed he's already the best at control in our school."
All eyes turned to me at the coach's words.
"Of course, he's been out for a while, so no live games right away. He'll train up plenty before that, so help him adjust quickly—especially you second-years in his grade. Got it?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Alright, Jeong-ui."
At the coach's cue, I stepped forward and gave a quick bow.
"Please take care of me. Somehow, I'm back on the baseball team, and I'll make sure not to be a burden."
As I spoke, I casually counted the players. Seven third-years, eight second-years, six first-years. Twenty-one total. Twenty-two with me. Considering schools with full rosters carry around forty, we were barely half. Minimum operational was twenty, so we were scraping by. If next year's freshmen drop and some rising third-years quit… we might be in trouble again.
I added, "I'm just a provisional member for now. I'll have plenty of rough edges, so please look after me."
A few nods rippled through the group, along with some blank stares.
After the introductions, I headed home.
"You're back?"
"Yeah. I went."
"Then come sit here."
My parents were at the dinner table, looking like they'd been waiting for me. My body stiffened as I stood there.
"Sit down already."
At Dad's words, I slowly took a seat across from them.
This is bad… They must've gotten another call from school.
Dad didn't beat around the bush.
"You're really going back to baseball?"
Haa… Things had gone too far already. Might as well rip the band-aid off.
I nodded. "Yeah. I am."
"Haa…"
Dad sighed at my words.
"Mom, Dad. I'm no good at studying. I figured I'd just coast quietly through senior year and graduate. But then I tried baseball again by chance, and turns out I do have something I can do. Even if talent's lacking. So I want to give it a shot."
Dad said nothing when I finished, eyes fixed on the table. The silence was scarier than words.
Mom spoke first. "Honey, if the school is covering all costs, they must see something in him, right? Even pro players don't get that often."
Dad's head lifted slowly. "True. But is it about the money?"
His voice was low but firm.
"Why the hell is the school doing all this?"
I took a breath. "I'm becoming a pitcher. Can't throw anything but fastballs, but my control's good."
Dad shot back immediately. "Pitcher? Velocity?"
"Mid-120s."
"Haa…"
Dad let out a short sigh. Not deep, not long—but laced with disappointment.
"You think that'll cut it? That's the speed I had at retirement."
I dropped my gaze for a second, then met his eyes again, speaking as clearly as I could.
"Dad, I'm an underhand pitcher too."
For a moment, Dad's face froze. He didn't speak, but his eyes changed. Then they flickered. He was calculating something—probably about the underhand style.
Once the math was done, he sighed again.
"Hoo… Fine. Do what you want. I still don't approve of you going back to baseball. But if you insist, go ahead. School's paying, so I won't interfere."
With that, Dad stood up.
Hoo… We're good. That's basically permission. I can play baseball again.