Fan Service Satisfaction Rating: #1

Even after the Weekend League's first half ended and the second half began, Wirye Jeil High showed no signs of slowing down.

Not only were they racking up win after win, they'd taken at least one head-to-head victory against each of the three powerhouse schools in their region, putting them at the top of the standings. An Integrated Championship — winning both halves outright — was well within reach.

Our MiTube videos kept shattering view records day after day, going viral like some blockbuster web variety show. Every time a new episode dropped, our interviews and game highlights made the rounds on the community forums. Honestly, it was a little embarrassing.

From the outside, everything looked like smooth sailing with no incidents, but internally? Not exactly peaceful.

There were all sorts of personal matters among the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠teammates, the whole saga of Kang Min-hyuk nearly flunking his midterms and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠coming within a hair's breadth of a playing suspension, and a few other incidents besides.

But the most frequent, most everyday incident of all was the one unfolding right in front of me right now.

"Min-hyuk sunbae! Um... I've always cheered for your games, so... this time, could you come cheer for me?"

Wow, that was a bold one-two punch. Hold on — doesn't Kang Min-hyuk already have a prior arrangement with Jung Hyun-ah sunbae for this sports festival?

I chewed on one of the chicken breast chips Min-ah had packed for me as a snack, spectating Kang Min-hyuk's increasingly dire predicament like it was premium content.

The PR Team Leader had apparently shown up at some point too, watching beside me with evident fascination.

"Would you like some?"

"Yes, thank you."

She took the chips casually, comfortable enough around me now. She used to have that stiff, distant adult aura, but lately she's softened up a lot whenever we're together.

Her eyes, though, never left Kang Min-hyuk and Kim Se-yeon. And honestly? This is an absolute dopamine feast. How could anyone look away?

Kim Se-yeon must be feeling the pressure as the latecomer in the race, because her fox act is off the charts. Look at her — even now she's sneaking her hand toward Kang Min-hyuk's. The Team Leader beside me kept going "oh my, oh my" like a spectator at a wrestling match.

"Sure. When should I stop by?"

The Team Leader gasped at Kang Min-hyuk's reply, reacting exactly like a high school girl watching a drama.

"Wow, that absolute madman. He just said yes? Yi-seon. Didn't Kang Min-hyuk already promise to help the student council with the former president during the sports festival?"

"From what I can tell, there's nothing to it. She'll obviously go support Lim Song-ah, help out with student council stuff in between, and since the middle school's on the same campus anyway, she'll figure she can just drop by whenever and see him."

"He genuinely interprets 'come cheer for me' as, literally, coming to cheer? Does Kang Min-hyuk have some congenital condition? Something that makes him incapable of reading human emotions?"

Tell me about it.

There goes Kang Min-hyuk, stockpiling future karma yet again. This is more gripping than most morning dramas or web series.

Right now Kim Se-yeon is red-faced and too flustered to even meet his eyes, and he's filing it all under "my junior is just shy." At this point, Kang Min-hyuk's obliviousness has ascended to an art form.

If he were that dense about people and emotions in general, he'd be getting called a psychopath or a sociopath — but no, he's perfectly normal in every other respect. He's only pathologically oblivious to exactly one category: romantic interest from the opposite sex.

And it's not just the three heroines. Any other girl who approaches him with good intentions sails right past his radar. A genuinely rare case that only a manga protagonist could pull off.

"I worry that boy's going to catch a kitchen knife to the gut someday, the way he carries on."

The manga never had anything like that, of course — but this isn't the manga; this is reality. Live like that and the woman situation is bound to get tangled up spectacularly. Someday, a very large karmic bill is coming due.

"..."

"Would you like one more?"

"...Yes. Still, I'd say Kang Min-hyuk isn't quite at knife-worthy levels. Compared to the person who really deserves one, he's just oblivious."

"There's someone like that? Who?"

"Just... someone I know."

She suddenly fell silent and stared straight at me, so I handed her another chicken breast chip. These things really grow on you. I like the whole-grain sugar-free cookies Min-ah usually makes too, but eating actual meat directly has to be better for my diet.

And now Lim Song-ah's arrived, watching him with those puppy-dog eyes, and he just lets it slide? Kang Min-hyuk, you have my genuine, grudging respect.

Beyond Kang Min-hyuk's love life, the other internal event we deal with constantly is fan interaction. Popularity has its downsides, turns out.

As our baseball club's fame grew, more and more fans kept showing up at the school, to the point that we now hold a brief ten-minute fan engagement session before practice every single day.

At first the Coach tried to wall off any contact with fans entirely, but Lee Ye-eun's advice — that blocking them outright only breeds more of the warped ones — combined with the Board Chairman's twisted hunger for school publicity, resulted in these regular meet-and-greets.

Even so, he kept insisting right up to the end that we all needed to "be careful about getting too close to female fans!" Seriously, at this point did he switch careers from baseball coach to idol agency CEO?

Once again today, the fans chatted lightly with the players before practice, then lined up for photo time. Kang Min-hyuk's line is fairly long, but mine is exponentially longer. That, right there, is the difference between a team's star and its second banana.

"Um... hello..."

"Hi there. Oh, hold on — haven't we met before?"

"Huh? Yes, we have."

A fan who seemed nervous, maybe because this was her first event like this. Her face did look oddly familiar, and after a moment of puzzling over where I'd seen her, it clicked.

"Sorry about last time—"

"Want to take a photo together this time? You got me in my casual clothes last time, but now I'm in uniform — much more baseball-player-ish, right?"

"Oh! Yes! Let's take a photo..."

She was the fan I'd run into on my way home after school. She'd been too shy to approach and just took pictures from a distance, so I'd told her to come over and take one with me instead. I even invited her to visit the school sometime — and she actually did.

"Come on, a little closer. You have to be in the picture too."

"C-closer...?"

Still flustered, she hesitated over every movement. Last time she'd used a proper camera, so we didn't need to be that close to fit in one frame, but with a selfie angle like now, we had to huddle in.

We took the shot with our shoulders just barely touching. But ending it there felt like it was missing something — the fan service didn't have that finishing kick.

"What's your name, if you don't mind me asking?"

"My name? It's Cho Ah-reum..."

"Cho Ah-reum... that's a pretty name. Here you go — the photo's sent."

Using my phone's photo editing tools, I'd tucked a signature into one corner of the picture. Below it, like plenty of other players do, I added the fan's name and a little message.

She looked genuinely moved, so I flashed a small smile and bowed goodbye. Surely that puts me in the top tier of fan service satisfaction. A baseball player is an entertainer in the end. Getting all high-and-mighty over one silly ballgame and neglecting your fans? Unacceptable.

Take notes, rest of the club. All you do is hand out the same cookie-cutter signatures you copied from somewhere else and toss off a casual greeting. Real fan service means connecting with your fans the way I do.

Next fan in line, please. Ah, she's back again this time too.

When Han Seo-hee first watched Kim Yi-seon doing his "fan service" — wagging his tail like a puppy at absolutely everyone — she'd been dumbfounded.

She'd wondered if it was just that, being an outsider herself, she didn't understand the culture of genuine social butterflies. But even ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠at the professional level, no Twins player did fan service like that. Conclusion: Kim Yi-seon was simply off his rocker.

He wasn't some sleazy chick-magnet working an innocent girl — so what was with all that practiced, sparkling charm? Normally he smiled like a total goofball, but in those moments he was nothing short of a silver fox.

And look at him now.

"I, um, made you a little snack. It's chocolate..."

"I'm so sorry. As an athlete, I have to manage my diet strictly, so I try not to eat anything that isn't part of my meal plan."

"Oh... I see."

"But I truly appreciate the thought. So I'll eat just one piece, right here and now."

"Really? Yes, of course!"

"Then would you do me the honor of feeding it to me?"

"Excuse me?"

"I use both hands for signing, you see, so it'd be a problem if I got anything on them. Here — ahh~"

Holy crap. Is that a host club ace or a baseball player?

At first she'd assumed he couldn't be satisfied with two girlfriends and was out hunting for more, but no — he genuinely, thoughtlessly considered this fan service. What on earth was he looking at that made him think this counted?

Meanwhile, every other player exchanged a few polite words, signed some autographs, and called it a day. The more adventurous ones managed an awkward selfie before shuffling off.

Who on earth would stab him in the gut? Ridiculous. If anyone was getting stabbed, it was Kang Min-hyuk — though Kim Yi-seon would probably end up carved into pieces instead.

She stole a glance at Lee Ye-eun, standing beside him. Yet every time scenes like this played out, Lee Ye-eun just watched with a blank expression, apparently unmoved.

Normally, with her personality, Han Seo-hee would never — never — have brought this up in such a situation. But her curiosity had grown too large to suppress. Wasn't it infuriating, watching your own boyfriend carry on like that?

"Um... Ye-eun? Shouldn't we stop Kim Yi-seon from doing that right now?"

"Even if we did, he'd be right back to normal in five minutes."

Lee Ye-eun replied with an oddly weary tone.

"I once told him he was getting way too close to other girls, so he went and stopped talking to any girl but me entirely. How long did that last? A whole month. Then he snapped right back to normal. There's no middle setting with that guy."

So if Kim Yi-seon's attitude toward the opposite sex were plotted on a dial, one notch past "refuses to speak to women at all" was... wagging his tail at them like this? What kind of gearbox setting was that — a car with sudden unintended acceleration?

"Honestly, since Kim Yi-seon never means anything by it, getting angry at every little thing would just be exhausting. He probably has no idea how those girls look at him, either. Watch, he's doing it right now."

At that moment he was holding his palm up against a fan's hand as if comparing sizes, then lacing their fingers together.

"See? He's just checking whose hand is bigger. What her reaction will be, how it might look — none of it crosses his mind."

Lee Ye-eun explained it all in a calm, even voice, but something heavy seemed to settle beneath the words, a long-held ache.

"If it's any consolation — whether it's a blessing or a curse — ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠he's so oblivious that he never notices the aftermath either. So at least that's one less thing to worry about."

"The... aftermath?"

A chill ran down Han Seo-hee's spine.

"Remember the first fan who came up today? That gloomy-looking woman who got a photo with him. She's a stalker and an illegal photographer. We've already gathered the evidence, and we're filing a report soon."

"...And you just let her approach him anyway?"

"What, are you worried she'll pull a knife? The school's been screening everyone who comes through the gates pretty thoroughly since that day, you know."

"No, that's not even the issue—"

"Digging into it would just ruin Yi-seon's mood for nothing. As long as he thinks she's just a fan, letting him stay blissfully unaware right up to the end is for the best, don't you think?"

Lee Ye-eun spoke of it all so naturally, as if it were routine. Not the kind of thing an ordinary high school girl should sound accustomed to.

"I'm guessing this isn't the first time."

"Of course not. He wags that tail around everywhere — how many crazy women do you think it attracts? Even before the baseball club got famous, I lost count of the girls I got transferred out for stalking, theft, or defamation. More than I can count on one hand."

Such a casual tone, such an alarming content. And how, exactly, had all of this been handled legally without the boy himself ever finding out?

"I understand it a little, actually. If someone smiled at me like that and it turned out to mean nothing at all, I think I'd lose my mind too. But you know what? Here's the thing — I know that Yi-seon doesn't smile like that at someone he really likes."

A different smile? What did she mean, different?

"Not that pretty, polished business smile like now — you know that dumb grin, the one that leaks out of him because he just can't hold it back?"

Ah. Now that she thought about it, she knew exactly which smile that was. Kim Yi-seon's face, grinning like an idiot in a way that completely squandered his good looks, floated up unbidden in her mind.

Wait a moment.

Han Seo-hee currently had her face buried in the sink. Not because she was trying to drown herself — she was just trying to cool the heat flooding up her cheeks.

"Pwah—!!"

Even after all that, the flush kept climbing back.

She'd cut things off with Lee Ye-eun mid-conversation, fled to the bathroom in a panic, and had been stuck in this state ever since.

His real smile is that dumb, dopey grin...

Try as she might, she couldn't stop picturing Kim Yi-seon grinning ear to ear at her during their recent conversations. No matter how she looked at it, that was the smile he'd meant.

Truthfully, they had gotten closer lately. And for Han Seo-hee — who in her school days had barely spoken to juniors at all, let alone male ones — having a close younger guy friend had turned out to be far more delightful than she'd imagined.

Despite his social-butterfly looks, his hobbies were surprisingly similar to hers, and conversation flowed easily between them. Especially the day they'd talked about all the things you can't bring up at the hair salon — she'd thought, what an unlikely pairing we make, even as some inner closeness quietly climbed to new heights.

Still, she'd assumed their relationship was strictly business...

— "Who knows, maybe the kid's just smitten with his noona and follows her around because of it."

Her uncle's remark resurfaced at the worst possible moment.

No, Uncle. I just opened up to him, that's all — it's nothing romantic. He's five years younger than me, for heaven's sake. At that age, he's basically a child.

Right. That was it. Opening her heart — which was not the same thing as romantic feelings, obviously. And he was still a student. What did he think would happen, laying a hand on a student?

No, you lunatic, why is "laying a hand on him" the part your brain jumped to?

"Okay. Close friends. Close noona-and-dongsaeng. That's exactly what we are, nothing more."

Even if Kim Yi-seon did have feelings for her, romance wasn't something she cared about anyway. Her standards were simply too high, and the men around her all fell hopelessly short.

To meet her ideal: obviously a handsome face, considerable height, good limb proportions, a suitably deep voice. And a personality that wasn't insufferably smug or obnoxiously trendy, while also...

"...Pwah—!!"

Bit by bit, Kim Yi-seon's face kept creeping into her mental checklist of ideal-type criteria, so she dunked her head back into the sink and pulled it out again.

Am I actually losing it? Was it never that she lacked interest in romance — was it that she'd simply had a taste for younger men all along, judging by how she'd dispatched every variety of suitor who came knocking?

She wrestled with her spiraling thoughts, straining to empty her mind — but it took a full thirty minutes before she could finally bring herself to leave the bathroom.