In This Life, The Greatest Star In The Universe

Pitcher Song Yunho, hailed as a rising star of the KG Dragons, was once asked that question.

“What has been the most intense memory of your life so far?”

The interviewer likely had in mind his days as a youth national baseball team member, his award-studded high school career, or the moment he was drafted as a rookie.

“The most intense memory? Hmm....”

But what actually came to his mind was something from much earlier in his childhood.

“My elementary school baseball club stands out the most. Because back then we had an incredible teammate.”

“Incredible teammate?”

“Yes. He wasn’t at an elementary school level. In every friendly game, the other team would go crazy asking why we’d brought a middle schooler.”

There was one crazy kid who threw a fireball while everyone else lobbed the ball.

The interviewer, intrigued, pressed on.

“There are many memories—why is that one the most intense?”

“Oh, it wasn’t that I’d taken baseball seriously before then. I only joined because the coach promised to buy me something delicious.”

He prided himself on being better than anyone at sports, but in that school there was someone who made him feel like hitting a wall.

“He didn’t even practice much, but was so good. I got jealous and practiced obsessively to catch up. From then on I got serious about baseball—determined to beat him once.”

“And... did you win?”

“No.”

Song Yunho shook his head.

“Before I could, he quit the baseball club.”

“I see.”

“That’s probably why it still sticks with me.”

He smiled as he answered, and the interviewer looked on curiously.

“Song Yunho was famous even as a middle schooler. If he was that hard to keep up with....”

“He was on another level.”

“I wonder if he’s still in baseball now?”

“No.”

He scratched his cheek and replied.

“He’s doing something completely different now. A really unexpected job.”

“Is that so?”

The interviewer’s curious gaze continued, but Song Yunho wrapped up the topic tactfully.

‘I shouldn’t bring this up again.’

He thought it wouldn’t be polite to mention NewBlack, who were all over TV at the time, in an unrelated interview.

Meanwhile, every time he watched TV he felt puzzled.

‘Why is he doing that...?’

He’d liked scribbling poems on paper in elementary school, but never imagined idol life.

He had assumed he’d end up somewhere like the Premier League.

And this was the kid who’d written “farmer” as his first choice, “farmer” as his second, “fisherman” as his third, from grades one through six.

‘What happened...?’

He could only wonder what might have occurred during their lost middle and high school years.

In any case—

His elementary school classmate’s choice turned out to be the right one.

“Yunho, have some bread!”

“Thanks, senior! Huh...?”

A sticker saying “Teddy Bear Junhyun Is Happy” popped out of the bread a senior threw him as a snack.

When they went to training camp in Japan, on the hotel TV appeared his friend explaining the history of the independence army alongside the Chinese characters for “anti-Japan.”

Even chatting with local players abroad—

“Do you Koreans know NewBlack?”

“How do you know...?”

“My girlfriend’s a huge fan... I kind of hate them.”

By now, NewBlack’s faces were everywhere—they’d achieved massive success.

‘I knew he’d be big.’

Everyone in elementary school used to say “He’ll become someone big,” and it had come true exactly.

Some friends leave a lasting impression from school days—and Junhyun was that kind of person.

Having known him personally, the impact was even stronger.

‘He really was unforgettable.’

Among everyone I’ve ever met, he left the strongest impression.

“Shall we throw again?”

Junhyun practiced the pitching form taught by the players, and memories from the past overlapped above him.

In the back row of the classroom, beside the water cooler, the boy who sipped various herbal tonics at every break.

His slightly chubby cheeks moved as he munched the medicine.

“Why do you drink that?”

“Uhn... Grandpa told me to. He said I’m too weak.”

I remember Junhyun saying “I must be really weak,” then sipping bellflower root juice and reaching for the next tonic.

Clack.

A packet of herbal medicine slipped behind the water cooler.

“Huh, it fell back there.”

Then with one hand he easily lifted the twenty-liter water jug, moved it, and retrieved the dropped packet.

“You weak?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Is your family in the medicine business?”

“No, we don’t do business. We farm.”

“...Never mind.”

“Yeah.”

I didn’t know how the misunderstanding had arisen, but he’d been treated as the family’s frail youngest child.

I recalled his diary entry: “If the world ends, I’ll go to that house.”

“....”

Back in the present, Song Yunho let out a bitter chuckle.

‘How could he have been frail?’

Throwing nearly 120 km/h while enduring the strict weight-cut of idol life made no sense.

So when the next question came, he couldn’t help but spray water.

“Junhyun keeps saying he was frail in elementary school. Is that true?”

Ptooey—

Song Yunho sprayed water like a mist machine, wiped his mouth, and swiveled away from the handsome figure before him.

“Excuse me? Who said he was frail?”

Apparently it wasn’t true.

“You keep saying it yourself? That you were frail?”

“Yes.”

“Ha, well.”

We laughed at the player who forgot camera etiquette and failed to manage his expression.

‘Of course.’

‘Junhyun hyung couldn’t have been frail.’

Song Yunho took another drink, then said,

“Well, it’s not impossible. Sometimes athletes are like that—good at sports but weak bodies.”

He looked at Junhyun and whispered to us,

“But Junhyun....”

“Yes?”

“On breaks he’d climb to the top of a tree and rest up there. When others hit singles, he’d run for a home run by himself. Opponents went nuts asking how an elementary kid could do that.”

He even ran from first base to home and scored, the legend went.

From there Song Yunho’s story caught fire.

“In baseball club he’d always talk about being frail...!”

“Sir, please calm down.”

He was so astonished he spoke as if about to burst.

“I mean, he’d chew the rocks in his rice.”

“What kind of rocks?”

“Pretty big ones.”

I wondered why Wonseok hyung was laughing so hard.

In any case, the moment of truth about Junhyun’s childhood frailty—something he’d anguished over—was revealed.

It was a relief. Whenever his family asked if their “frail boy” was okay after concerts, I’d been embarrassed. They truly believed their son, grandson, nephew was fragile.

“I understand how you feel.”

“Thanks. I held onto this for so long as a child.”

His polar-bear features looked a bit melancholy.

As Song Yunho and he bonded over that, Junhyun, surrounded by players, called me over.

“Hyung!”

“Yeah?”

“Come over here.”

“What is it?”

What now?

I backed away to keep distance as Junhyun tilted his head.

“Aren’t you going to learn batting?”

“Oh.”

I’d forgotten in my fear.

I glanced at the three blocking my escape, then approached Junhyun.

The players asked Junhyun,

“That really happened, right?”

“Yes.”

“Man, even if only half of that’s true....”

I leaned toward Junhyun as players observed me /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ swinging a bat with great interest.

“Hey, what did you say to them?”

“I just told it exactly as it was, so they reacted like that.”

I didn’t know what he’d said, but they started gathering around to watch me with bats in hand.

One appearing to be a batter grinned and said,

“It’s easy. You pitch, then just swing and miss—nothing to it.”

Then the maknae raised his hand and asked enthusiastically,

“So we mustn’t hit it?”

“Hahaha!”

The players laughed, then began teasing him in turn.

“Oh, you can hit it if you want. It’s fun.”

“If you want to, go ahead. Nobody’s stopping you—ha ha ha.”

“Then we’ll get an article.”

When the maknae shouted, “Article! Article!” they laughed warmly and handed him a bat.

The batter who’d spoken earlier demonstrated a motion.

“Try this move. You’ve practiced a bit, right?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll watch—go ahead.”

I gripped the bat and faced forward.

I found stance—feet shoulder-width apart, hold bat gently at about a forty-degree angle.

Then I prepared to swing.

“Oh, nice stance.”

Perhaps from watching hitting videos these past few days, my body moved naturally.

A motion optimized for my body.

The bat rose and snapped forward. I felt power radiate through my arms.

Like slicing vegetables on an optimal path in a cooking game, it felt like passing through the perfect route.

After the swing, I glanced around.

“....”

The players blinked collectively.

As the Dragons’ PR staff stood agape, the murmuring players asked,

“Junhyun was in elementary baseball, so what about Wooju?”

“Oh, this is his first time.”

“First time playing baseball?”

“Yes. I watched on MyTube and practiced.”

They gasped among themselves.

“A beginner with that batting stance? Perfect....”

“He’s just like Jones in the majors, even the expression.”

“Jones, really looks like Jones.”

I feigned ignorance, humming as I gripped the bat, when Junhyun gave a proud thumbs-up.

“See? He’s great at everything.”

“He is.”

One player said,

“We should trade him for Yunho.”

“Ah, senior!”

As the maknae player feigned mischief, the seniors laughed and teased him.

Then the most senior player stepped forward and said to Junhyun,

“Wow, at your level you should aim to be a baseball player, not an idol.”

“He stays away from TV, that’s why he’s here.”

One player said,

“Hey, the major-league player Yusu chose Nine as his walk-up song to match his jersey number. That was this group’s song.”

“Oh, really?”

It was the first we’d heard of it too.

A Korean who made it to the majors had chosen “Nine” as his entrance music to match his number.

Someone added,

“He’s the boss among today’s idols. The boss.”

“Is that so? Then stick with being an idol—if you’re number one~”

They all laughed as we hurriedly shook our heads. I gave Wonseok hyung a look and he nodded—time to cut that from the behind-the-scenes.

This was a sensitive time.

“That was fun!”

After finishing first-pitch and first-swing practice, the players laughed and began to disperse—along with selfies and autographs.

Honestly, more time went to photos and signatures than practice.

“Can I set this as my profile pic?”

“Sure.”

We received signed balls in return.

While chatting with excited players about talking to a celebrity, I saw Junhyun laughing with Song Yunho in a corner.

I didn’t know their topic, but they looked happy.

After talking some more, Junhyun waved at Song Yunho and came over.

“What were you talking about?”

“Just reminiscing. Elementary school baseball stories.”

“Oh.”

Then he showed me the pile of autograph cards he was holding.

“I’m so happy today. My whole family are KG Dragons fans—including me.”

“Oh, your home region must be KG Dragons territory.”

“Yes.”

I looked at all the family names written in the “To:” fields and laughed.

“If I pitch later, today will really be the best day ever.”

“Yes....”

You’re happy. I feel like surrendering.

I swallowed the thought and took a deep breath as I noticed the three capturing me on their phones.

“Why are you suddenly filming me?”

Biju smiled kindly.

“To remember the moment.”

“...You two, watch out later. Really.”

They giggled at my clenched jaw.

Their laughter grated on me today.

Today’s schedule was simple.

Pitch and bat in Game 3 of the playoffs, starting at 6:30 PM, then watch the game.

“Chicken! Chicken!”

“I’m not eating chicken—something else for me~!”

While the chicken-averse maknae searched stadium concessions, I put on earphones and played videos.

“What are you watching, hyung?”

“First-pitch videos of other celebrities.”

I rewatched familiar clips to observe.

Biju shared an earbud and laughed.

“It’s just swinging, but it still makes me nervous. Right, hyung?”

“Yeah, partly. But I’m also looking for lines to say.”

“Ah.”

I’d heard from Junhyun that first-pitch and first-swing are fan-service events for baseball fans who came to watch the game.

Like a warm-up before the main event.

I was imagining how to make it more fun for them.

“Hello, I’m Han Taehyun!”

A 2014 Korean Series first-pitch by TNT’s Taehyun, with scarlet hair and slick banter—then clips of various idols.

Then I found one I hadn’t seen.

“Yes, Scarlet’s Lina will handle today’s first pitch.”

Scarlet’s main dancer Lina extended her long legs and threw a meteor-like pitch.

“Wow! That was fast.”

“Rumor has it Scarlet eats half the league’s meat consumption—they’re huge eaters.”

“No wasted strength there.”

The scene cut to Ara, Bom, and Daisy crossing their arms and laughing like generals.

“...I don’t think that’s a reference we should copy.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

I clicked my tongue at those extraordinary seniors, when the club staff announced we were ready.

“Sigh....”

I stood before the mirror, pressed my cap into place, and took a deep breath.

Walking down the corridor toward the stadium, faint sounds grew louder outside.

A buzzing like a swarm of bees.

“Hello!”

The KG Dragons mascot—a blue dragon with a jade orb—waved at us energetically.

Ah. Why is my mouth so dry?

Standing at the entrance, I looked around.

“Is today Game 3?”

“Yes.”

I recalled that Koo Song Motors and the KG Dragons were tied 1-1, and the first to win two more games advances to the Korean Series.

Jamsil Stadium was the Dragons’ home field.

As I filed those facts away, the dragon mascot bobbed its jade orb beckoning us inside.

– Please welcome them with applause! – 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

Our images flashed on the scoreboard as cheers erupted.

“Waaaaah!”

The roar was louder than expected, and I smiled.

I waved at the fans in the stands as I approached the MC by the pitcher’s mound.

– Once again, let’s give them a warm welcome! –

Fans rose with their phone cameras raised and applauded.

The MC picked up the mic.

– The energy is amazing! Can we hear an introduction? –

“Yes! One, two, three—!”

“Hello! We are NewBlack!”

Our voices boomed through the stadium speakers, and the crowd cheered again.

It felt surreal.

Huge lights beamed down like in a concert, and seeing the stands from a player’s viewpoint was new.

– Here come the nation’s idols NewBlack! Today Wooju and Junhyun will pitch and bat. Wooju, a word for the fans, please! –

We delivered our lines naturally, then punched the air with a “Fighting!” alongside the others.

While Ri Hyuk, Biju, and Jiho applauded, Junhyun and I followed the dragon mascot down the line.

Just swing and miss.

Swing and miss...

I smiled broadly at the crowd as I took my place in the batter’s box.

“Relax~”

I nodded and grinned at the catcher I’d met earlier.

Junhyun, who’d been standing in the pitcher’s spot, removed his cap and bowed politely from various angles.

As Junhyun smiled and took his position—

Exactly as taught, I raised the bat with one hand, pointed toward the mound, then got into batting stance.

“Sigh....”

Junhyun winked, lifted his left leg, and grinned as he released the ball.

The pitch looked like slow motion.

It felt as if my whole life flashed before my eyes.

“...!”

Was it really that fast?

It was like facing a car at 120 km/h. Swoosh! The ball hurtled in.

My shoulder tensed and I instinctively squeezed my eyes shut.

Oh dear. I’m done for!

Frozen with my eyes shut, suddenly—

“...?”

I felt my body move smoothly on its own.

And then—

Thwack!

...Huh?