A New Species Emerges / What I Was About to Say
The Incheon Vanguards' game analysis team was banging its head against the wall.
"I'm asking you! WHY! Why does he only bust out the knuckleball and a delivery he's been hiding whenever he pitches against US?!"
Analyst A, who handled the hitting department (meaning he analyzed opposing pitchers), let out a howl that echoed through the entire office.
From his perspective, Jang Han-sae was the very definition of a dirty cheat.
During the opening series between the Fighters and the Urbans, he had observed the Urbans' pitchers—his next opponents—with painstaking thoroughness.
As for Jung Min-gyu, the high-school-drafted rookie starter, today had been his professional debut, so A gathered all his amateur records and analyzed those.
"Fine. Jung Min-gyu always had good stuff. I can accept that."
Pitchers who lack command but have electric stuff sometimes put on genuinely untouchable performances when one of their 'lucky days' rolls around.
Today had been one of Jung Min-gyu's lucky days. Which meant his brilliance fell comfortably within the range of what a man could predict.
"Jang Han-sae… what the hell IS this guy?"
The Jang Han-sae he had analyzed was a command-only bullpen arm with middling stuff and an average velocity that didn't even crack 140.
Granted, that evaluation had been based on spring training data.
'Will he even make it up to the first team?'
That had been A's first thought upon seeing Jang Han-sae.
Contrary to A's expectations, Han-sae had appeared in two games of the opening series and slammed the door—1.1 innings of work including a bases-loaded, no-out jam, allowing just one run (which, to top it off, was unearned).
Even then, A chalked it up to simple luck.
There was, however, one new piece of information he'd picked up.
'That guy is a switch pitcher?'
Even after seeing it, all A did was add 'switch pitcher' as a footnote to his existing evaluation.
Yes, Han-sae had pitched well against the Fighters—but it was only two games.
And his velocity and stuff looked no different from his original scouting report.
Against an offense rated among the league's best—like the Vanguards—he should have been a perfectly hittable target.
And so, in the top of the eighth inning of today's game, when Jang Han-sae took the mound with the bases loaded and nobody out, A silently rejoiced.
There was no reason on earth for his heart of the order NOT to torch the guy.
By his analysis, that was how it had to go.
And then this nobody named Jang Han-sae threw a knuckleball.
The very weakness Edison himself had publicly admitted to in an interview.
With that single pitch, Han-sae struck out the third batter, Edison, looking and swinging.
'There was no record anywhere of him ever throwing a knuckleball.'
It was a shock.
Had he missed something?
Impossible.
A was a seasoned analyst in his own right, and he had full confidence in his data collection.
'It's not like you can just wake up one morning and throw a knuckleball, right?'
Before that shock had even faded, an even bigger one was waiting for him at Jung Hae's plate appearance.
Jang Han-sae had started throwing underhand.
Jung Hae's one and only weakness.
That he hits absurdly poorly against submarine pitchers is a fact every baseball fan in the country knows.
"Fine, whatever—but you can't just SWITCH to underhand out of nowhere! That doesn't make any sense!"
'Well, this is a matchup between a rookie pitcher and the league's strongest hitter. Maybe the platoon advantage can be brushed aside just this once?'
A ran that hopeful little loop through his head, but alas, the numbers produced exactly the result the data promised. (Though Han-sae did get some help from a web gem.)
Two outs, just like that.
Then Kang Gae-seok, the last line of defense, went down on strikes as well, and the bases-loaded, no-out golden opportunity evaporated into nothing.
"Is this even real?"
It felt like the very reason for his existence was being denied.
"Jang Han-sae… I'm going to rip every last secret out of you, piece by piece."
A swore to himself that he would pour every ounce of his ability into dissecting this utterly unheard-of creature called Jang Han-sae.
And the Vanguards weren't the only ones who had begun such meticulous analysis of him.
Every other club's analysis team had already launched fresh research into Jang Han-sae as well.
Unlike the Fighters and the Vanguards, who had been blindsided with no idea what was coming, they now knew that Han-sae threw knuckleballs and could change his delivery at will.
A type of pitcher that had never existed—not in KBO history, not in baseball history anywhere in the world, Major Leagues included.
With this new rare species on the scene, Jang Han-sae became the top-priority research subject of every analyst in the league, despite being nothing more than an intermittently-used relief pitcher.
"Achoo!"
I could not stop sneezing today for some reason.
"Somebody must be talking about me."
There was nothing for me to do in the second and third games against the Vanguards.
Thanks to that, I got two full days of rest, followed by a Monday with no game scheduled at all.
Days like this, I wish I could just do absolutely nothing.
Hmm. That's the text I got.
An offer with absolutely zero reason to refuse—except for one thing that nagged at me.
The person who had sent it. That, in and of itself, was the problem.
Myo A-rin.
'Do you like me?'
Why on earth did she have to say that?
While resting, I quietly turned that phrase over and over in my head, the way it kept circling back.
She'd made jokes like that before, too, so maybe I was making a fuss over nothing.
And honestly, I had reason to think so—because A-rin's attitude toward me hadn't changed one bit since that day.
It was definitely just me being dramatic alone.
"Right. Just act normal."
"Perfectly natural," I murmured.
I genuinely didn't want jeyuk. Tonkatsu, on the other hand…
"You know me too well."
Well then, no reason to refuse.
Except…
"'Something to talk about'? What would that be?"
My heart lurched for a split second, like a beat-up old car slamming over a speed bump.
Just as my head was about to spiral again—
Grrrooowl.
My stomach announced lunchtime on its own.
First priority: feed the beast.
Throughout the meal, A-rin didn't bring up whatever she had to say at all.
Just an ordinary lunch, same as always.
Some indescribable, strange air seemed to hang over the table, but the more I thought about it, the more certain I was that it was all in my head.
We finished our fill, walked out of the restaurant, and naturally drifted toward a café nearby.
"I'll get the coffee—"
"No, I'll cover the coffee too. I literally make a living off your team's players, so this much is nothing."
"Hm… well, fine by me."
Really?
Eh, if she insists, I'm not going to fight her over it.
"Besides, I have that thing to talk about."
And there went my heart, lurching again.
We walked in, ordered our coffee, and took a seat by the window.
'What is she planning to talk about?'
It was killing me not knowing.
What could it be, that she was dragging her feet like this?
It really didn't feel like A-rin at all today.
"So—what is this thing you wanted to talk about?"
"Hm? Ah… it's kind of important, actually…"
Bzzzzt.
The vibrating buzzer announcing our drinks.
"I'll—"
Before I could even get out 'I'll grab it,' A-rin snatched the buzzer, collected the coffee, and was back at the table.
She really did look strangely off today, in one way or another.
What in the world did she want to talk about so badly?
'Do you like me?'
I told it to shut up, and yet there it was again, echoing through my skull.
Why now, of all times?
'But she IS acting kind of weird today.'
Buying me food, buying me coffee, even serving it to the table?
What is this?
Once a thought takes root, it coils after its own tail, tightening into a knot inside my head.
No—why does my brain keep getting so complicated over this?
I don't get it.
Get it together.
'I don't know what she's about to say, but the atmosphere is not normal. I need to steer the conversation somewhere safe.'
That was when I noticed a second buzzer sitting on the table.
"Huh? There's another buzzer?"
"Ah, I asked them to pack up a few things to take to your mom later."
"My mom?"
"Yeah, obviously. Who else's mom would it be, mine?"
A-rin…
"Thank you."
"Don't mention it. We're practically family anyway."
Right—practically family.
That's what we were.
"Hey! Anyway, about this thing you wanted to talk about—"
A-rin turned to me with an utterly serious face and looked me dead in the eyes.
"You need to listen carefully to what I'm about to say. Okay?"
Softly gleaming brown eyes.
A straight, delicate nose.
Lips flushed faintly pink.
All of it blended in perfect harmony across a fair face with just the right touch of color in it.
And then the sunlight streaming in through the window added something wordless, something impossible to name, to this already indescribable atmosphere.
I found myself staring at her face, as if under a spell.
Had the A-rin I knew always looked like this?
Wait a second…
Did she get plastic surgery?
"…Are you listening?"
"Huh?"
"Seriously… I'm talking to you right now…"
"Ah, sorry. I was thinking about something else for a second."
"What could you possibly be spacing out about… Is there something on my face?"
"No… did you get plastic surgery?"
"What?"
She burst out laughing, pure incredulity on her face.
"Where did THAT come from? Of course not~"
She denied it with a bashful little smile.
She didn't?
Then why does she look so pretty right now?
'Do you like me?'
That voice rang out through my head yet again.
"How nice of you to hand out compliments all of a sudden, out of nowhere. Anyway, that's not the point—what I actually wanted to say was…"
But then, why did she give Geum Byeong-hyeon a fake phone number?
Why did she take a job with the Urbans, of all teams—any team could have had her?
Why do the days when it's just the two of us keep piling up?
No—what is wrong with me, why am I thinking all this?
She has something to say.
…
Something to say about WHAT?
My chest started pounding all over again.
Why was I so happy when A-rin walked into the locker room that day?
Why did it feel like absolute garbage when Geum Byeong-hyeon showed interest in her?
Why do I keep catching myself checking my reflection in the mirror on every one of these days that somehow end up being just the two of us?
'We're practically family, remember?'
'What kind of bullshit is that?! We have different last names!'
Now even my own thoughts were at war with each other.
It felt like being split into Han and Sae, fighting one another.
Hey… what IS this?
'Do you like me?'
I'm screwed.
Seems that way, doesn't it?
"So, Han-sae, from now on you—"
"I like you."
Shit.
What did I just say?