#2. Out of Orbit—Wet Dream

His eyes reflecting his hidden love for Yuhwan were his only weakness—the one vulnerability he had failed to control through thousands of reincarnations.

Unable to even voice a denial, Haneul tried to pull his body back. But the moment he realized the hand he was about to swat away belonged to Yuhwan’s priceless 'golden left hand,' his muscles instinctively lost their force. He couldn't risk injuring that shoulder.

Without daring to lay a single finger on the man, Haneul Jang stepped backward on his own feet, desperately trying to widen the distance between them.

Seeing this, Yuhwan advanced like an apex predator, stepping forward to choke the remaining air out of him.

"Haneul Jang. You look so delicate in the face and body, so why the hell do you act so overbearing and arrogant on the field?"

Ah, so that was the problem.

In that instant, Haneul felt every missing piece of the puzzle finally click into place. He finally understood why Yuhwan was unleashing such a furious, out-of-control rage upon him.

 

***

I helped us completely crush the seniors and win the game. Isn't that enough? Haneul countered internally.

To stop Yuhwan from recklessly flexing his raw physical power, Haneul had thoroughly calculated the pitch calling, using it to completely control his throws. That calculated arrogance had brutally scraped against Yuhwan’s titanic pride.

"In this entire world, you're the only bastard who looks down on me! How dare you blabber like you know anything about my pitching?!"

"I know everything. I know your pitches better than you do."

"What, are you some kind of genius? You haven't even caught my real, full-power fastball yet!"

The conversation reignited like wildfire. Beneath Yuhwan's near-violent hostility lay this deep, underlying baseball conflict. It was a wild mustang's pure rebellion against a catcher who kept him contained in the palm of his hand and manipulated him at will.

Understanding the psychology behind it, Haneul Jang refused to back down and met his gaze head-on.

"Just throw exactly what I sign for. That’s all you need to do. I’ll be the one to hand you all the glory and victory. There's absolutely no reason for you to waste your barely recovered shoulder on a pathetic, trivial stage like this."

Instead of soothing him, those words poured pure gasoline onto the roaring flames. Yuhwan’s brow contorted into a menacing scowl. He was a man who only believed in an honest, brutal fastball—a guy who chased nothing but the primal pleasure of crushing opponents with pure, unadulterated strength.

Yuhwan himself probably had no idea what state his shoulder was currently in. The severe injury during his high school days, followed by a brutal year of painful rehabilitation...

Haneul could not let him ruin that precious shoulder at something as meaningless as a college baseball club tryout.

Of course, having no way of knowing Haneul’s deep intentions, Yuhwan must have found the catcher’s arrogance utterly detestable, looking at him as if Haneul was trying to clip his wings.

"What exactly is your identity?"

Yuhwan let out a hollow, disbelief-filled chuckle, his sharp eyes piercing straight through Haneul.

My identity? Haneul swallowed the words swelling up inside his chest. My identity is a sticky, suffocating affection that has fermented over four lifetimes without rotting—a love directed solely at you, which you could never handle.

Knowing for a fact that Yuhwan would flee in absolute disgust if he ever faced this truth, Haneul bit his lip hard, keeping his mouth tightly shut.

Haneul turned his gaze away, staring mutely at the rain-drenched ground. Fortunately, under this torrential downpour, there were no watching eyes around the bullpen.

He had always craved even a single touch from this man. Colliding against that solid, muscular body had been Haneul’s long-cherished, desperate desire.

If Yuhwan wanted this... then yes. If this was a chance, it was a chance.

Since this was a life destined to crumble into dust soon anyway, crossing the forbidden line with the very man he intensely yearned for didn't seem like a bad idea.

The endless hours spent watching him from a distance, the fleeting moments where they gradually blurred together, and today, where they finally put on the labels of teammates—there was no possible way to explain the accumulation of all that time to the current Yuhwan.

"Yuhwan, my identity is simply a catcher who is absolutely crazed for victory."

"Don't you dare cling to me like a pathetic creep ever again. Instead, you will catch every single ball I throw. There aren't many bastards alive who can handle my pitches anyway! You're the only one allowed to catch my balls! I'll make sure to bring you down to your knees before me, so just you wait!"

The brutal rejection dropping from Yuhwan’s lips tore Haneul's heart into bloody ribbons, yet even that brought a wave of enchanting contradiction. No matter what, it meant he was fated to be the closest battery to this man in this lifetime as well.

Since he couldn't let go of such an arrogant, insolent bastard, this was his own karmic debt. Who else could he blame?

"Fine. Do whatever the hell you want. Strip my clothes or take my lower body as you please. But in exchange, I’m the only one who will ever catch your pitches. I will only be in a battery with you, so brace yourself."

Whether from the freezing cold or the uncontrollable wave of shame, Haneul's entire body began to tremble violently.

The heavy sound of pouring rain swallowed every echo in this secret space. Hidden behind the thick curtain of the downpour and trapped in the blind spot of the security cameras, this place had transformed into a perfectly sealed, illicit meeting ground.

Right then, as if determined to push things to the absolute limit, Yuhwan lifted his massive hand.

Slowly closing the remaining distance between them, his fingers reached out to gently brush back Haneul’s wet, crimson hair. Yuhwan’s fingertips trembled slightly, hovering precariously over Haneul’s collarbone without quite touching it—behaving dangerously yet cautiously, like a young boy facing his very first kiss.

But something felt off.

Haneul expected him to go completely wild with dark desires, but Yuhwan couldn't hide his raw clumsiness. After aggressively scanning Haneul’s body with nothing but his intense gaze, Yuhwan suddenly jerked his head away. His reaching hand lost its direction, dropping back into the empty air.

The pure innocence Haneul had guarded like a strict fixation up until his fourth life turned into an even greater weight of humiliation in the face of Yuhwan’s bizarre hesitation. It made him feel too weak to even hold his own body upright.

Perhaps because his entire body was soaked, even his mind felt like it was sinking into a damp, heavy swamp. Yet, for today, he was fully prepared to endure absolutely anything as Yuhwan's slave.

"...What's with that puritanical look on your face?"

Yuhwan’s sharp eyebrow arched upward. What kind of look had Haneul given him to make this dominant man waver so visibly?

Haneul didn't care how twisted his own expression looked. The only vivid reality was the piercing sensation of the freezing rainwater soaking through his uniform and seeping deep into his skin.

He was grateful it was raining. Hiding behind the chaotic noise of the downpour, Haneul simply kept his lips pressed firmly together.

An indescribable, suffocating sorrow surged from the depths of his chest. He had thought this drinking session after the tryouts would be a golden opportunity to untangle their knotted relationship, but because he couldn't read Yuhwan's true thoughts, the entire situation seemed to be spiraling toward a complete catastrophe. He desperately wanted to pour out his resentment, but Haneul endured it silently, wearing a completely expressionless mask.

Then, the aura surrounding Yuhwan shifted into something dangerously volatile.

"Haneul Jang... You really..."

As the rain-drenched uniform clung tightly to his skin, perfectly outlining the sleek, elegant contours of Haneul’s body without a shred of filter, Yuhwan’s ragged, heavy breathing pierced straight through the rain and struck Haneul's eardrums.

What did I even do? Haneul wondered. Why was Yuhwan exuding such a feral, beastly energy, turning his edge so sharp against him? Yuhwan was the one swinging his weight around at his own whim, so Haneul couldn't even tell who was supposed to be the angry one here.

Yuhwan’s smooth nose flared as if spasms. With an expression twisted with a mixture of rage and suppressed panic, he slowly—very slowly—backed his body away.

Yuhwan’s hot breath brushed past Haneul’s ear. Did that brief breath contain a cowardly mockery, or a pathetic, desperate lust that was on the absolute verge of exploding?

"Tch! You wicked bastard... Forget it. Do you really hate doing it with me that much?"

Every time Yuhwan’s fingertips ran through Haneul's hair as he pulled away, a strange, electrifying current jolted through his entire body. The fierce urge to grab Yuhwan's wrist and force him to stay rushed right up to the edge of Haneul's throat.

A few agonizing seconds later, Yuhwan turned his massive back to him, callously vanishing into the sheets of heavy rain. That retreating figure felt like grains of sand slipping helplessly through Haneul Jang's fingers.

His mind went completely blank, white noise taking over alongside the roaring sound of the rain. In the spot where Yuhwan had left, only a puddle of rainwater rippled quietly. Yet, Haneul’s eyes remained pinned to the spot as if he had just witnessed a phantom.

Chasing nothing but the lingering afterimage of the man who had already vanished from his sight, Haneul stared out into the empty space beyond the bullpen for a very long time.

In that exact moment, the ground beneath his feet buckled weightlessly. The thin boundary separating the dream from reality completely shattered.

Gasping heavily for air, Haneul Jang opened his eyes, finding himself completely drenched.