Reasonable Suspicion? (3)

The Daehwa High dugout had been cowed into silence by Kim Yi-seon's overwhelming display of power. And it was Yoo Dae-hyung, sitting quietly amid the deflated atmosphere, who finally rose to his feet, unable to hold back his anger any longer.

"Hey! Y'all givin' up already? Why're your eyes all glazed over, sittin' there lookin' like whipped dogs?"

Nine outs on fastballs alone? An immaculate inning? Perfect through three? What were they supposed to do about that?

"I ain't given up a run, and neither has he, so what's the problem? Just score me ONE run. I'll shut 'em down to the last out."

Granted, unlike Kim Yi-seon, he had allowed a pair of hits and a walk, but that much fell comfortably within the margin of error. At the end of the day, if neither side had surrendered a run, weren't they even?

He shouted at his teammates, who slumped as if the game were already lost, trying in vain to force some life back into the dugout—but nobody answered the call. Left with no choice, he climbed the mound for the bottom of the fourth.

This couldn't go on. If his own batters were too intimidated by the opposing pitcher to swing the bat, then he needed to stamp out the opposing hitters himself.

And the first hitter waiting amid that sense of crisis was none other than the cleanup man himself—Kim Yi-seon, who had spent the last inning putting on his circus act out on the mound.

The truth was, Yoo Dae-hyung had never liked Kim Yi-seon. His velocity was fast? Most pitchers could add two or three km/h if they were willing to sacrifice some control. It was just that the balance problems and the losses outweighed the gains from that little bump in speed, so they chose not to.

Seen that way, there wasn't all that much separating himself—a pitcher known for his crisp command—and Kim Yi-seon, whose command wasn't a strength at all and who couldn't do anything but hammer the middle of the zone.

He wanted nothing more than to plant a baseball right in that pretty little face of his, but he held back. Instead, he'd show him one of those ridiculous stunt shows of his own.

He flashed a sign to his catcher. Nothing fancy—a four-seamer right down the middle. As hard as he could throw it.

The catcher recoiled and shook it off, but Dae-hyung didn't budge. Down the middle. No arguments.

The pre-game scouting report had noted that Kim Yi-seon possessed excellent power, and that his hitting in the hot zone was particularly dangerous. But if a starting pitcher was so scared of a hitter's hot zone that he refused to challenge it, how was he supposed to manage a game at all?

This was his second at-bat against Kim Yi-seon. He needed to throw one up the middle at least once, if only for the sake of his pitch sequencing going forward. This wasn't just a contest of rage and pride.

The catcher finally seemed to accept it and settled his mitt over the heart of the plate. Yoo Dae-hyung glared at the mitt and readied his first pitch.

His head was burning with heat, but when the moment came to throw, he stayed calm. He exhaled one long breath, braced his core, and fired.

The ball left his fingers feeling beautifully crisp. Location didn't matter—it was going middle anyway—so command was irrelevant, but at this level, the velocity and movement were the best he could offer.

And then, at that moment—he couldn't say why—he thought he saw Kim Yi-seon's eyes light up.

Uh oh.

CRACK!!

"""WHOOOAA!!!"""

I rounded the bases at a leisurely jog, and the moment I touched home, a hopping, ecstatic Cha Il-sung came bounding toward me.

"You little punk, your timing's back, huh? Homered last game and now you're homering again—"

"Left elbow."

"Huh?"

I cut off the excited slugger mid-sentence and delivered exactly what I'd come to say, nothing more.

"Their starter. Before he throws, when he comes set—on a fastball his elbow stays level, but on a breaking ball it drifts up a little."

"Oh? Oh. When the hell did you even check that?"

When I just walked away without answering, he looked sheepishly lost, then headed off toward the batter's box.

When I came back through past home plate and into the dugout, everyone was cheering and pounding my helmet as hard as they could.

I stoically absorbed the assault until everyone calmed down, then slowly made my way toward the tunnel at the back of the dugout.

"Um... is something wrong? You don't look too happy for a guy who just hit a home run. Wait—was it because we pounded on your helmet?"

When I didn't react, Sung In-hoon crept up and asked hesitantly. He'd made a great defensive play for an out earlier today, so I figured he'd decided he could risk asking me directly, counting on a somewhat favorable response.

I waved a hand as if to say it was nothing, and headed out through the tunnel toward the waiting room.

The moment I opened the door, there was Ye-eun, watching the game on the TV mounted inside.

"Huh? Why are you here mid-game? Did you get hurt somewhere?"

She'd caught the sound of the door and turned her head instantly, confirming my arrival. Worried about my sudden appearance, she started checking my body over for injuries.

"No. Just wanted to see you."

"You were literally just watching from the field, and now you 'wanted to see me.'"

Still, she seemed pleased enough with my answer, because she smiled and slid right into my arms.

"Aww, who's a good puppy? You threw the ball so well, and you hit a home run too? Guess it's MVP Kim Yi-seon again today, huh?"

Ye-eun teased me, patting my butt playfully. She fussed over me like soothing a child for a moment, then sat down on the waiting room bench and patted her own lap.

"Come here. Right now."

"Am I actually your dog?"

"Whining and whimpering like that while watching my every move? You're a dog, alright."

When I obediently lay down on the bench and rested my head in her lap, the smile drained from Ye-eun's face, replaced by an expression of concern.

"So. Feeling any better now?"

"A little."

It was the bottom of the third, and the game had a long way to go, but after showing off that much, surely no more of those ridiculous stories would surface.

I'd made my point about my pride; from here on out, I could just pitch the game normally.

"Liar. You think you can fool my eyes? You promised me something before, remember? What was it?"

"...No lying to each other."

What came after that promise had been along the gruesome lines of we both die if we get caught, but the look in Ye-eun's eyes right now was remarkably gentle. The calm, motherly expression of someone who already knew everything, telling me to take my time and spit it out.

I felt like I'd been stripped bare, with nothing left to hide. So this was what twelve years of childhood friendship got you.

"So are you going to tell me now? Why Kim Yi-seon has been sulking all day and is still moping like this?"

Honestly, it was a little embarrassing, and not exactly a topic I wanted to bring up with Ye-eun. I agonized for a long while over whether to say it at all, but faced with those gentle eyes gazing quietly down at me, I had no choice but to come clean.

"The thing is... I did a little searching on the internet yesterday."

"You told ME not to look?"

Ye-eun jabbed me reproachfully in the cheek, utterly scandalized. I had nothing to say in my defense. But I'm only human, and resisting the urge to ego-search is a hard one, you know.

Living as an internet ghoul in my past life, I'd wandered anonymous sites the way I used to, poking around at this and that—and honestly, it was fun.

Yeah. I wasn't even angry, really. It was closer to amusement. Absurd slander and nonsense ran rampant, but rather than getting under my skin, it felt familiar—this was the same community culture I'd indulged in back in my old life—so I actually found it welcoming and enjoyable.

How much did I enjoy it? Enough that old memories came flooding back and I wrote a bait post titled something like [Fake Jeil High umpire just posted bank account verification on his SNS?] with a body full of disgusting food photos, and got it deleted and banned for thirty days.

So why had I gotten my feelings hurt? Why was I stupidly stoking a fire with my pride on the line?

"But those bastards, it's fine when they mess with me or the guys at school—but you, they come after you too."

Frankly, I didn't care one bit about them talking trash about me or running their mouths about Kang Min-hyuk and the rest of the baseball team. They could sling slander until the sun burned out—the Wirye Jeil High of the real world was on an unstoppable winning streak, so none of it stung.

Well. Except for those rabid bitches with their ship-fic. There was some stuff in there about Kang Min-hyuk and me that was, uh, a certain way, and I am absolutely telling the agent about that one. We're suing.

Anyway, I couldn't give two shits about what anonymous losers said—but Ye-eun was a different story. There were a few posts that were nauseating just to look at, and reading them made my blood boil.

Suddenly, Ye-eun went quiet. I stopped wondering what was wrong and looked up—just in time to see her looking back at me with eyes that were a little bit dangerous.

"Ye-eun?"

"...Kim Yi-seon. You keep wagging that tail of yours like that, and something's going to happen."

Yoo Dae-hyung had given up the home run, but he'd barely managed to hold his mentality together. Getting taken deep was a painful but necessary growing pain for any pitcher. Nobody could go unhomerun forever, and no pitcher could spend his whole career dodging a hitter's hot zone.

So even though his pride was badly wounded, he steeled himself for the team's victory and the innings still to come, and kept pitching.

"Striiiike three! OUT!!"

The out count was already at two. One more, and this nightmarish inning—the one that began with a home run—would finally be over.

So as he brooded on the home run that refused to leave his mind, in that short window while the next batter walked to the plate, he found himself searching the Wirye Jeil High dugout for Kim Yi-seon.

But Kim Yi-seon wasn't there. Where on earth—

"..."

And then, at that very moment, Kim Yi-seon emerged from the dugout tunnel. He'd apparently been in the waiting room until just now and was coming back out to prepare for the next inning.

But Yoo Dae-hyung's exceptional eyesight, combined with his fixation on Kim Yi-seon, forced him to see it.

The sight of Kim Yi-seon sharing a kiss with what looked like a female manager as he came through the tunnel, before casually taking his seat.

Looking again, there seemed to be blotchy red marks on his neck, too. If his memory served, those marks ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hadn't been there moments ago.

"...KIM YI-SEON!!!"

I'm out here throwing everything I have at you with every fiber of my being, and the game is so boring to you that you're off fooling around with a girl?!

Kim Yi-seon. Kim Yi-seon! KIM YI-SEOOOON!!!

The game against Daehwa High went better than I'd expected. Their starter looked like a genuinely good pitcher based on his early innings, but my home run in the fourth must have landed a devastating blow to his psyche, because he completely fell apart from the fourth onward and got yanked early without making it out of the fifth.

Granted, for all that, the score was a bit lower than it could have been—but three runs is a comfortable cushion. The Coach had me pitch only through the seventh, partly to manage my workload and partly to keep Ha Kyung-woo's game sharp, then brought Kyung-woo in for the eighth.

I came out after seven innings, and I was today's MVP anyway. Sure, I went 1-for-4 with a home run, but as a pitcher I'd thrown scoreless ball, and my first three-inning performance had been nothing short of absurd. It was the obvious call.

I cautiously asked Seo-hee.

"I didn't stir up too much trouble this time, right?"

"Nope. Your answers were pretty standard this time, and since it wasn't broadcast live, it'll air as an edited package. Anything you're worried about?"

I shook my head vigorously. Originally, my plan had been to win the MVP award and then fire a sniping, troll-loaded interview straight at the haters. Hence the whole stunt show.

But after talking things through with Ye-eun and letting my head cool down, I started wondering whether it was even necessary. Between my two lives, how old was I already? Could I really keep childish troll-baiting up forever?

No—dignified and mature. Show respect for the opposing team, demonstrate some polished interview skills. That's the way to go.

Since my interview had been fairly stiff and unremarkable, the mainstream press coverage was correspondingly mild. The fact that I'd thrown thirty consecutive fastballs did become a minor talking point, but as one reporter put it, it wasn't exactly a mind-blowing record—pitchers whose breaking balls haven't developed yet occasionally post numbers like that.

Though I couldn't match my own nine-strikeout streak, apparently some player in high school baseball once threw thirty-six consecutive fastballs. Really drove home that student-level baseball is just built different.

The problem, naturally, was not the mainstream press. It was the internet communities.

Reactions up to this point were all within my expectations, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠or exactly the direction I'd intended. Had the instigators ever actually been legit Haneul Technical fans throwing that much of a tantrum? Nah. They just didn't like us, and a conveniently juicy story came along, so they kicked up a fuss.

Internet opinion has a turn-based-battle quality to it, so I'd anticipated that the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠moment public sentiment swung our way, they'd scuttle off like cockroaches. What I had NOT anticipated, however, was this:

"So you're telling me all of this is true, then?"

The day after the game ended. The moment Yoo Dae-hyung's exposé spread across the internet, Min-ah appeared before me with a face twice as cold as usual.

Yoo Dae-hyung, you bastard. I'd thought you were a pretty decent pitcher, but apparently baseball talent and character don't go hand in hand. Making a flimsy exposé like that.

Ye-eun was standing beside her, and since the deed was in fact hers, she just stood there with an awkward grin, going hehe... and avoiding everyone's eyes, working hard to act like she knew nothing about it.

"So in the end, it was the internet that caused all this? Am I right?"

Min-ah had clearly already pieced together the whole story and cut straight to the point. The causes were complicated, but simplified down to one line? Yeah. That was it.

When I reluctantly nodded, Min-ah seemed to reach a decision and dropped the bomb.

"Very well. Starting today, I'm putting you under total internet restriction."

Hold on just a second.