Paradise Lost (1)

With Ga-wol's face twisted in fury as her final image, Camelia closed her eyes into the blackened field of her vision.

If she couldn't play the game, there was no reason to stay inside the access pod. Shin Eun-chae climbed out of the practice room — and found a woman waiting for her.

Anyone on this team would have known her on sight.

"Have you finished everything you wanted to do?"

Luce. Lee Ga-yoon smiled. The expression was beautiful and serene — but her eyes were not smiling.

"Yes. Were you waiting for me?"

"It's fine. I was just having a cup of coffee."

"I'm sorry. For acting on my own. I'll be disciplined for this, won't I? I damaged the team's image."

Pro gamers never took kindly to dropping into the Siege board. Some regarded it as a kind of fall from grace — a descent into ruin. Their fans, too, preferred the pro league and the Siege board kept cleanly apart. But no formal regulation actually drew that line. It was an unwritten rule: no one enforced it, and nearly everyone had observed it without protest.

Today, Camelia had broken that rule in the most unmistakable way possible.

Luce was a woman of strict principles. It would not have been strange at all if she had found Camelia's conduct repulsive.

"No. We've never written down a rule forbidding people from joining Siege. Issuing actual discipline over it would be a little unreasonable, don't you think? That's how I see it, at least."

For Camelia, the words came as a surprise. That meant there would be no team-level sanctions.

Within Sigma eSports, Lee Ga-yoon's standing was never merely that of "captain" or "ace." It ran deeper than that, in more ways than one. Ga-yoon had never particularly abused her authority — but some kinds of power held force even when left unused.

Her tone was always soft. She never spoke sharply to people, and Eun-chae had never once seen her act roughly. And yet — for some reason — Eun-chae felt her breath catch in her throat. A strange anger lived in those unsmiling eyes. The voice was unmistakably gentle, and still ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it felt as though some vast hand had closed around her body and refused to let go.

"But, Eun-chae."

"Yes."

"Did you enjoy it? Freely kneading someone else's wounds however you liked?"

"…No."

"It was a coincidence, but I happen to know her. Not for very long. Just a vague sense of maybe, possibly — but still. I found out recently. About her circumstances, too."

Eun-chae's eyes went wide. She looked up at Ga-yoon in shock, then lowered her head again. The woman who would not even smile with her mouth carried a colder air than expected.

"I should have stopped you. I had a rough idea — who you wanted to beat, and why you were so obsessed. I thought it might be overstepping, and that it might even be a good opportunity for both of you."

"No. I was the immature one. I'm sorry."

"If she's willing, would you meet her sometime? I'd like you to apologize. I'm not forcing you."

"…Yes. Please arrange it. I will."

In the end, my access pod was ruled unusable — for "safety reasons." Internally, they seemed to have looked for illegal programs or suspicious behavior as well, but of course nothing of the sort turned up. That did nothing to change the fact that my paradise had been taken from me.

If there was a silver lining, it was this: the game company put a gag order on the whole incident. Nothing particularly problematic had occurred, and they clearly had no interest in picking at a scab. Well — I could still log in on a different pod. I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wrapped up the public version of events with something about personal circumstances and left it at that.

"It feels so empty."

Time was rotting on my hands. I had spent more hours with that access pod than with my own bed, and now it was just a useless bulk taking up most of my tiny room. I even considered throwing it out — but the thought of it as a keepsake from my parents made me hesitate. I couldn't cart it around forever, either. Sooner or later I would have to decide. Maybe moving somewhere a little bigger would be better.

There was only one thing standing in the way. If I could just let go of the single obsession that had been choking me — if I redirected the money I'd been pouring into fixing my legs toward simply living — it would all become possible.

"What's left in the account… is actually pretty decent."

I had saved a fair amount. On the premise that I was giving up on my legs, it was enough to hold me over until I found a new place to settle. Or I could follow Elderin's lead and start streaming as a girl cammer. Still a little hard to do sober, maybe. From ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that angle, right now might actually be the perfect time for it.

It felt like a hole had been punched clean through my chest. Come to think of it, it was always like this. The moment something seemed within reach, the world would tear something even larger away from me. Warmth. My parents. My dreams. It would leave me barely clinging to life, a wreck of a person, and dump me somewhere else all over again.

The irony of it. When it actually came to this, the tears wouldn't come. The ones that used to spill at the slightest provocation refused to show up when I genuinely needed to cry. Too busy filling the hollowed-out place to spare any for the outside, maybe? I still didn't understand my own heart. Then again — if people truly understood themselves that well, every psychiatric ward on earth would have to shut its doors.

My phone kept lighting up with alerts. Ever since I'd announced I was taking a break from the game, messages had poured in from every direction. I hadn't checked a single one. I didn't want to say anything to anyone. Explaining was exhausting and painful. I was vaguely tired, and my body had no strength left in it.

At times like this, it would have been nice to have just one person who would hold me without a word. Empty comfort would have been fine. Just pretend to be kind, and I'd believe whatever you said.

Needing something to hold onto, I pulled a pillow into my arms. The house was so quiet I could hear footsteps climbing the stairs outside. A strangely unfamiliar experience — come to think of it, being awake at this hour of the day was something I hadn't done in a very long time. Ordinarily I was either inside the access pod or asleep.

Sounds like the neighbor coming home… or is it?

Ding-dong — the doorbell that rang was mine. I hadn't done anything wrong, but I held my breath and played dead anyway. I still hadn't made a sound. Whoever was outside couldn't know if anyone was home. Delivery or whatever it was, they'd assume I was out and leave soon enough.

That prediction fell apart spectacularly. Elderin's voice came through the door.

"Daeun? You're in there, right? Open up."

"…"

"Unnie thinks she knows you pretty well by now. I just can't picture you having gone anywhere."

"…"

"Hmm, so you've decided to pretend you're not home. Lately a lot of people have been looking for unnie, you know. I wonder if that photo we took together a while back…"

"I-I'm coming!"

Terrifying. Yoo Se-rin was terrifying. I hopped over on one leg and opened the door. Unnie stood there with a face that said she'd known all along.

"I knew you were here."

"Saying I'd never go out is a little hurtful, you know. I do go outside sometimes."

"You didn't go out this time."

"Well… that's true."

Her eyes flicked briefly across my neck. I wasn't doing anything like self-harm. She worried too much. I hadn't been driven that far. Her younger sister must have hated herself even more than I did. I understood the worry well enough, so I pretended not to notice.

"It's way too dark in here. Let's open the curtains and crack a window."

Unnie, you're sounding exactly like Master right now. — If I said that out loud, I'd probably get scolded, wouldn't I?

"So why are you here today? Don't you have a stream?"

"Aww, so Daeun watches my streams too?"

"How could I not?"

I owed her a great deal, and there were things I still needed to learn from her if it came to that. Elderin was a good unnie and a good teacher all at once. I didn't catch every single broadcast, but whenever I happened to see one, I dropped in.

"I'm off today. Even I need to rest sometimes."

"You didn't come running over just because of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠me, did you?"

"Would that be a problem?"

"It's not that it's a problem… I just figured it was because of me."

"You're right. I came because I thought you'd be having all kinds of ugly thoughts right about now."

Bullseye. My thinking had been drifting in a bad direction, bit by bit. Thoughts were like a river — once the current found a channel, it was hard to reverse. Left alone, I would have spent a thoroughly miserable stretch of time. Having the room brighten up helped a little, at least. Elderin walking around my tiny space put some life back into what had felt like a dead room.

"When things are hard, having someone next to you makes it a little better. So — want to go somewhere with unnie?"

"Going outside… I'm too tired. I don't want to."

"We're taking my car. I parked nearby. And I already made a reservation."

"A reservation? Where are we going?"

"You'll find out when we get there. I've got things to talk about on the way, too. Really no?"

"Mmm. Fine."

I owed Elderin a lot. Going along with this much was the least I could do. And I didn't actually hate the idea that much, either.

— Or so I thought, before the bitter taste of regret hit me almost immediately.