Tournament Practice Period (5)
“Hoo…”
Park Jimin could barely breathe through the tension. Would a day ever come when this moment felt familiar?
“Hey!”
“…”
Someone was calling him. The voice carried a note of genuine delight.
“Have you been waiting long?”
“…”
Jimin shook his head.
The same place as before. A similar greeting. Even if this was the second time, there was no way it could feel routine.
“Hm?”
Tap, tap.
Yu Dahye gave his shoulder a couple of light pats.
“Are you feeling okay?”
“N-no, I’m fine.”
The second he saw her, Jimin short-circuited.
She’s so pretty.
Even standing right beside her, he kept stealing glances. She had said she was dressing casually this time—but that only made her figure more obvious, which was somehow worse.
“But are you sure this is all right?”
“Huh?”
“Coming over in the middle of a weekend afternoon… it feels like I’m imposing.”
“No, it’s fine.”
“Really?”
“Yeah…”
Jimin had said he’d rather she come during the day. His mother had agreed. Dahye hadn’t particularly cared either way, so an afternoon visit it was. Neither an eighteen-year-old boy nor a forty-two-year-old woman wanted a twenty-one-year-old girl wandering around alone after dark.
“Oh—what’s that?”
“This?”
Only then did Jimin notice the shopping bag in her hand.
“You really think Nuna would show up empty-handed?”
“Ah…”
Food, probably. Even at a glance, it looked expensive.
“I’ll carry it.”
“Thanks.”
Jimin took the bag from her and headed home.
“Hello!”
“Come on in.”
Unlike Jimin, who was still trembling, Dahye greeted them brightly, as if she’d been over a dozen times already.
“…”
Unbelievable.
Jimin still couldn’t quite process it. Dahye, hanging out at his house. There had been a time when just playing one game together and getting a single compliment from her would have made him happier than anything.
“Mind waiting a bit?”
“Yes!”
“Nuna, this way.”
Jimin led her into his room. Come to think of it, he was showing her this a little late, too.
“Whoa. Now you actually look like a streamer.”
“Haha…”
Sitting in front of two large monitors, even Jimin had to admit he looked the part.
“I caught a bit of your stream yesterday—you were practicing. Your schedule looks brutal.”
“Nah, I’m having a lot of fun.”
“Yeah? Well, I’m glad the opportunity came so fast either way.”
“Mm.”
Jimin had secured his footing so quickly it genuinely surprised her. For an unknown streamer, the biggest boost you could get was being associated with a big name. And Jimin had joined Render’s team—Render, whose name carried serious weight even on Jijijik—and was going up against streaming legends who were even more famous than him. Could there be a better chance than that?
“It’s a little warm.”
“…”
Dahye took off her outer layer. A white tank top under a white cardigan, and short denim shorts underneath—that was her look for the day. From the start, Jimin hadn’t known where to put his eyes, and the moment the cardigan came off, it only got more dangerous.
“Where are you going?”
“Just—bathroom. Real quick.”
Jimin stood up from the chair. Being in the same room as her was still far too embarrassing.
“Wow, this looks amazing. Thank you for the food!”
Dahye clapped her hands together, delighted.
“I hope it’s to your taste.”
Kim Eunhye, Jimin’s mother, said as she looked at her. Japchae and braised pork ribs. Add a bowl of seaweed soup and it would have been Jimin’s birthday set.
“It’s so good, ma’am.”
“Eat plenty.”
She really packs it away.
Eunhye let out a quiet laugh. Watching that doll-like little face shovel in rice and side dishes in huge bites was oddly funny. At first she’d been suspicious of how pretty the girl was, if she was being honest—but Dahye had helped Jimin so much, and ever since her son brought her home, he’d been streaming with real joy. Eunhye was nothing but grateful.
“Jimin, why aren’t you eating?”
“Ah…”
Jimin looked distinctly flustered.
“Mom, do we have an apron in the house?”
“An apron?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh no—I washed the one I used for dinner last night. It’s probably still damp.”
“Really?”
Jimin looked over at Dahye.
“Nuna, won’t that get all over your clothes?”
“I’m fine? I don’t spill when I eat.”
“Do convenience stores sell them? I can go buy one—”
He stood up without even touching his food—
“Wha—?”
“Sit!”
—and got yanked back down by Dahye.
For heaven’s sake.
Eunhye was speechless. This was the same son who never cared what his own mother ate or wore at the table, and now he was fussing about aprons? So this was what people meant when they said raising a son was a waste of effort.
“…”
He’s completely gone on her.
No wonder he’d been so restless. Of course he was distracted by a pretty girl. And look at how she’d dressed for the occasion—it suited that lean figure of hers far too well.
“Honestly…”
“Huh?”
“Eat.”
“Oh…”
Frankly, she wanted to tell him the guest was feeding herself just fine and he should shut up and eat already—but she couldn’t quite say it.
Not a bad thing, though.
Her son, who’d never had any real contact with girls, was finally acting like an eighteen-year-old boy. Eunhye felt quietly pleased.
“I should order Korean food for delivery more often.”
“You order in a lot?”
“Yes. I only eat two meals a day, though.”
Dahye suddenly held up her phone.
“Uh…”
“…”
Mother and son both froze.
VVQ Chicken, Seocho Branch. Farm Village Chicken, Seocho No. 2. Yeopchong Tteokbokki, Seocho Intersection. Dominho Pizza, Gangnam Station.
The delivery history was a masterpiece. Forget the calories—it made you want to schedule her a full physical first.
“You really do just eat out, huh.”
“I try to cook sometimes, but it never really works out.”
“If I’d known, I would’ve packed some side dishes for you to take.”
“Oh, no, I’m fine.”
“We eat the same things anyway. Next time you come, I’ll have some ready for you to take home.”
“Then I’d feel terrible…”
“Don’t be. Jimin, just drop some off for her once in a while. You said the station’s not that far from her place.”
“Okay.”
Jimin nodded at his mother’s words.
“…”
Dahye grinned, then went back to eating.
“I can do it.”
“You sure? This is trickier than it looks. One wrong cut and the whole shape’s ruined.”
Dahye giggled in a teasing tone as she carefully sliced the bread she’d brought as a gift with a bread knife. Jimin had offered to do it himself, then backed off for fear of wrecking it.
“This is really good.”
“Is it? I should’ve bought more.”
Dahye smiled at the host’s warm reaction.
“Get home safe.”
“Thank you so much for having me.”
The conversation wound down. Before they parted, Dahye took Eunhye’s hand and gave it a firm squeeze.
“…”
To Jimin’s eyes, she seemed remarkably good at putting people at ease.
“Nice having seats.”
“Yeah.”
The bus toward Dahye’s neighborhood. It would take longer than the subway, but they’d chosen the more comfortable option.
“Nuna, do you not watch SCK?”
“Not really?”
“Ah…”
“I cast a few games early on, but my reactions never felt natural, and viewers would just start arguing for no reason. You watch a lot, though?”
“No, I didn’t used to know much. I’ve been watching a little recently because of my friends.”
“Was it fun?”
“I only watched one match. My friends’ team lost and didn’t make Sold Cup, so it was really rough.”
“P1, right?”
“Huh? How did you know?”
“P1 has a huge fanbase, and them missing Sold Cup recently was all over the place. Don’t you remember the weird stuff you said when you came into my stream?”
“Ah…”
Jimin’s face flushed at the mortifying memory.
“But it was really cool.”
“Hm?”
“The players on stream. Everyone was so locked in, and the people in the arena were going crazy for them. It was genuinely awesome.”
“Yeah?”
Jimin’s eyes sparkled as he spoke.
“Want to try it?”
“Huh?”
“You’re eighteen now. Isn’t it worth a shot? You’re already Master—you’ll climb higher from there.”
“Me?”
“What, should Nuna go pro instead?”
“…That’s ridiculous.”
Jimin looked away.
“So it’s not that you hate the idea.”
“No, I just… can’t picture it…”
“Hmm.”
Still avoiding her eyes, Jimin scratched the back of his head.
“Watching the neighborhood go by from the bus is nice, too.”
Dahye was looking out the window at the streets falling away behind them.
“…”
Watching her, Jimin felt a strange little surge of courage.
“Nuna, though.”
“Yeah?”
The moment she turned from the window and met his eyes, Jimin flinched slightly.
“Why are you so nice to me?”
“What? What’s that supposed to mean?”
Dahye said it with a smile.
“You look out for me so much on stream, you give me money, you help with my broadcasts…”
“I’m the one who’s grateful you think so well of me.”
Unlike Jimin, who chose his words carefully, Dahye’s expression was easy and unhurried.
“And you even come all the way out to my house, which is pretty far. That surprises me too.”
“We’re in the same city. It’s nothing.”
Dahye waved it off lightly.
“It’s just…”
She put a little weight into the words, and Jimin listened closely.
“I just wanted to. This is a secret, but Nuna doesn’t actually like people that much.”
“Huh?”
A surprisingly bleak line, coming from someone who always seemed so bright.
“But I just wanted to try trusting someone for once. Looking after them. And when I started paying attention to you, Jimin… it was pretty fun. And your mom takes such good care of me, and—anyway, I like it. Does that make sense?”
“…Yeah.”
It was a kind answer. He just didn’t fully understand it. In his whole life, Jimin had never heard anyone say they disliked people in general, indiscriminately.
“But if it gets too dark, your mom might feel uneasy coming home alone.”
“That’s why I try to go out and wait for her sometimes.”
“Yeah?”
“Mm.”
Most of the time his mother told him not to bother—but he still tried.
“I’m jealous.”
“Of what? Huh?”
Dahye ruffled his hair.
“Having a reliable guy like this around.”
She was looking at his face while she did it, and Jimin froze solid.
“And the more I look, the cuter you get.”
“…”
Dahye kneaded his cheek like dough. The expression on her face, as Jimin saw it, was exactly that of a child who’d found the perfect toy.
“Ah, I’m so tired.”
“I’ll wake you when we get there.”
“Thanks.”
Apparently a little drowsy, Dahye leaned her head into the corner and closed her eyes.
“…”
Her, sleeping against the window seat. It looked like a painting. Setting the whole relationship aside—how had he ended up knowing a girl this beautiful?
“…”
He tried not to think anything strange, but a baffling shyness was trying to take over his brain.
Huh?
There were more people on the bus than before. Women, sure—but men, too. Jimin’s visual processing shut out everything else and catalogued only the guys who were glancing at Dahye.
No.
Dahye was asleep, and the bus swayed. Her cardigan had slipped down her shoulder, and the lines of her upper body were far too visible. A man’s brain is hardwired to look at a woman with a full chest and fair skin.
“…”
Unable to stand it, Jimin tried to tug her cardigan back into place properly. His chest felt like it might explode, but he had to get it done.
I’m going to lose it.
Every time he tried to fix it, his fingers came a hair’s breadth from brushing her chest. If anyone saw this, they’d get the wrong idea. He needed to finish fast.
“Huh?”
“…”
It wasn’t someone else who’d caught him. It was Dahye herself. His heart dropped through the floor.
“What are you doing?”
“Your clothes…”
Dahye checked the state of her outfit.
“Over something like this?”
She fixed it herself in one motion.
“Pfft—”
“Huh?”
“No, sorry.”
Dahye burst out laughing on her own.
“You’re more of a Confucian boy than I expected. Guess I need to be careful with my clothes from now on.”
“N-no, that’s not—”
Of course, when they actually met, Jimin always wished her clothes were a little longer. Not that they were close enough for him to say that out loud.
Today had been a day overflowing with butterflies and fluster for Park Jimin.
“Whoa, it’s Haruka.”
“No, a friend of mine watches her a lot.”
“Got it.”
They’d already beaten the other two teams in scrims. One left. Facing the team of Hirose Haruka—Jijijik’s biggest VTuber—Jimin locked in Jayce as first pick.
The enemy team had used Diamond/Master cards for jungle and mid. Their top laner was Diyul, a female streamer and Gold—the weakest top in the tournament—so Hwata had given Jimin a champion who could dominate both early and late.
“On instinct?”
“…”
Hwata seemed like the type to say random things out of nowhere.
“Okay.”
“Understood.”
In other words: don’t get cocky. Beat this team and they’d go undefeated in scrims. A real confidence boost heading into the tournament—and a healthy dose of fear planted in the other side.
You have slain an enemy.
“Enemy top’s flash is down.”
Jimin said it after solokilling Irelia early.
“…”
Hwata had told him to play on instinct—but the concepts already planted in his head unfolded on their own. Had that been intentional teaching all along? He wasn’t sure. What he did know was how much he’d changed.
“I’m going to focus harder on lane.”
Deep vision was good—but for once, he decided to make the enemy’s life a living hell. Before the tournament even started, he was going to make the other teams worry about this top lane more than they needed to.