Debut and Comeback (2)

(Oz): We can take the Gangplank bot.

(Jimin): Rage is filling up fast.

The lane phase that had already netted them a mountain of advantages was over, and Naru and Gangplank were staring each other down on the side lane. P1's jungler Oz, on Lee Sin, had eyes on a dive.

(Oz): Nice.

After trading damage in Mini-Naru form, the transformation into Mega-Naru hit—then Lee Sin landed the sonic wave and chained in. With Flash already burned, one orange was never going to keep Gangplank alive.

(Durandal): Baron vision is all ours.

(Luca): I can't leave that Twitch alone, so I can't rotate out.

The gap opened in lane was already decisive. Even after the battlefield shifted toward mid tower, Ashe kept tormenting the enemy Twitch. Every time Ashe's ultimate came back up, Twitch had to flinch. All Janna could do was stay close and babysit.

(Luca): I'll take a look mid.

(Durandal): Ashe's ult is fine to use right away, yeah?

LeBlanc shoved the top wave and came down. Ashe's ultimate—Enchanted Crystal Arrow—streaked toward Twitch. Twitch flashed it. But that was exactly the range they'd accounted for.

(Durandal): Not happening.

(Rapid): I'll shove the turret right now.

The result was a double kill on the enemy bot duo. The damage from a fully itemized LeBlanc and Ashe was never going to be tanked just because Janna's ultimate shoved them back for a second.

(Luca): Keep shoving bot, Jimin.

(Jimin): Got it.

P1 and Far East Prince stood on the brink of a dragon fight—but neither top laner had teleported in yet. Meanwhile LeBlanc kept poking, chipping away at the enemy champions.

(Rapid): Hit him.

The fight opened on Ashe's ultimate. Both top laners hit their teleports.

(Oz): I'll look at Ori.

Orianna had already spent Shockwave. She lit up in Lee Sin's vision. Sonic wave into ultimate—Dragon's Rage. It didn't take long for Orianna to vanish.

(Luca): Take the Gangplank—ah, that was actually perfect.

An impossibly smooth teamfight. Not a single flaw to pick at. Baron fell to P1 as a matter of course.

(Durandal): Twitch! Twitch! Oh, he's dead.

(Luca): We won.

(Oz): GG.

(Jimin): Hoo······

(Rapid): Hmm.

Two straight wins already, and now a first scrim victory with the new members on the roster. This game in particular had felt less like a match and more like twisting a kid's wrist.

(Luca): I've played a ton of Jason myself, but I've never seen anyone run that skin.

(Jimin): Haha.

(Durandal): Pool Party Jason. Weird, but I like it.

(Rapid): They've got a Braum over there—poking's gonna be rough.

(Oz): We'll just have to play around it.

For the late game, P1 locked in a composition with strong long-range answers. The fourth scrim of the day—the second game with Jimin and Kang Jun in the lineup—began.

(Luca): Mid's backed.

(Oz): Nice. Free scuttle both sides. Jimin, I'm pathing top right now.

(Jimin): Got it.

Nidalee headed top. Jimin had picked Jason; his lane opponent Pigeon had locked Gwen—a champion you wanted to snowball under as early as possible.

(Oz): If he comes, we take him again.

(Jimin): Got it.

Jason had been bullying Gwen from the jump. Together with Nidalee, they gifted the enemy top two deaths inside the first minute.

(Durandal): Gravity field's down.

Next, Nidalee and Alistar jumped the enemy mid laner who had been trading with Hwei. Alistar leading the charge left Viktor with no real answer.

They're really aggressive.

The first-team players' tempo was blistering. The slightest opening and they pounced—that seemed to be this squad's style. The last game had been the same, and the snowball was already rolling hard again.

(Luca): Watch Seju's ult.

"······"

The game kept rolling. They traded skills around the dragon pit, and the enemy Sejuani opened the engage. But P1 had been ready—champions moving with the clean, coordinated precision of well-drilled soldiers.

(Durandal): Huh?

Kai'Sa rode the enemy ultimate into the back line. With a growth lead over the enemy ADC and enemy champions already chunked from poke, they melted in seconds.

(Oz): Whoa, nice.

(Durandal): That's insanely aggressive.

(Luca): Take dragon, then Baron.

(Jimin): I got the Gwen.

Jason cleaned up the last fleeing Gwen for the ace. A game that had already been going smoothly locked in tight.

(Luca): Ah, we won.

(Oz): Four in a row.

(Durandal): Almost too short. Kind of a shame.

(Jimin): Good game, everyone.

(Rapid): Ahem. Good game, everyone.

Kang Jun spoke up a beat late.

"Aggression is good, but the timing you peeled off there wasn't great."

"Yes, understood."

Jimin nodded at Coach Song Hochang's words. Even he could see it hadn't been an unavoidable death. If he'd ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠gotten careless and Gwen had snowballed hard, there was no telling what the late game would have looked like.

"Hyung, was my base timing okay there?"

"I thought it was fine."

"Oh, yeah?"

"······"

Kim Junyoung had gone to Hochang for an opinion first—and even after getting the green light, he wasn't done talking.

Weird.

Jimin still felt like he had so much left to learn. And yet Junyoung, with skill that high, kept asking other people what they thought. From what Jimin had heard, Junyoung and Hochang had been teammates as players—but even back then, Junyoung had been in a completely different class.

"Hyung."

"Yeah?"

While the coaches stepped out for a quick meeting, Jimin came over to Junyoung.

"You know Hwei way better than he does—why ask him first?"

He kept his tone careful, still not quite comfortable enough with his new teammate to speak casually.

"I know AP mages better than Hochang-hyung does, sure. But from the sideline, someone else might see it differently—so I ask."

"Ah······"

"A third pair of eyes can catch things you miss. That's why the word 'backseat' even exists, right?"

"That makes sense."

It wasn't a word Jimin usually threw around even as a joke, but he decided then and there that "backseat gamer" was a phrase he should stop using altogether.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Yeah."

Jimin smiled at his mom's reaction. He'd expected something similar. The room really was spotless and spacious.

"Yeah."

"Okay."

Jimin kept listening. In a short span of time he had jumped from the second team to the first. After today's scrims, both the head coach and the coaching staff had praised him. Inside the profession of pro gaming, his standing kept improving. And still, his mom fretted over a son's life she could no longer reach with her own hands.

"Now that I'm on the first team, I'll call more often."

"The food here is really good."

Jimin said it with an easy smile. He'd already been feeling the full weight of this organization's perks since academy days.

"······"

He ended the call with his mom. She was always a little difficult—and still the person he could be most comfortable with.

And then there was the person who was difficult, not quite comfortable, and full of butterflies.

Dahui-noona.

Jimin hesitated with his phone in his hand. He'd meant to send a text—then decided otherwise.

"······Huh?"

The one who made the mess was also the one left staring at it in panic.

Someone who didn't know the situation was never going to wait around forever.

"Noona."

"······"

Same as always.

She'd said she wasn't feeling great, but her voice hadn't changed at all.

"Huh? Yeah, yeah."

"Just because."

"······"

Playful and kind at the same time—that was pure Dahui.

"I practiced with the first-team players for the first time today. It felt really comfortable—good."

"Yeah. Everyone's insanely good at the game, and the head coach and coaches are really good to us too."

He delivered his report like a little kid who'd just come home with a perfect score—hoping, even if it was useless chatter, that the conversation would stretch just a little longer.

If you think about it.

Dahui looked after him for reasons that, to Jimin, never quite made sense—and at a level that didn't make sense either. It was a relationship where it wouldn't even be strange if the other person let go at any moment; one he had no right to complain about. So even if he was clumsy at it, he wanted to try.

"Noona, do you remember what I said last time?"

"Huh? You remember."

"Uh, yeah. Haha."

"······Yeah!"

Dahui said yes without a second of hesitation. Jimin's heart was pounding.

"I'll take care of everything."

"Yeah."

A teasing, unbothered voice. But Jimin paid it no mind—he only had eyes for one thing.

"I won't be able to go out often, but I'll try."

"Okay."

"······"

Is she still not feeling well?

She sounded like some convalescing grandmother announcing she was going out for a stroll.

"Ah! Noona—and I'm coming back to stream starting tomorrow."

"Yeah? Haha."

Jimin relaxed. If she could stream, that meant she was doing pretty well, right?

"Yeah······"

What was there to say to that. In every moment he wasn't focused on Sol, Jimin was tense.

I can't let them down.

How should he open? The streaming gear would be different from before—would anyone think it looked weird? And if you really thought about it, this was the first time he'd ever streamed with the cam on.

"Yeah. You too, noona."

The call ended.

"Hoo······"

Good job.

Calling instead of texting had been the right call. Hearing her voice settled something that text never quite could. Seeing her in person would be even better.

Tomorrow.

Jimin made a quiet resolution to sneak a look at Dahui's stream and check how she was doing.

"Ahem."

"Nervous?"

"Huh? Ah······ haha."

Jimin just laughed at Junyoung's question. P1 kept the practice room and the streaming room separate. The gear was clean—and completely unfamiliar. More than anything, the thought of facing his viewers again after so long only made the nerves worse.

"Hyung, this kid used to do pretty well on stream. Don't worry."

"Yeah? Guess I'll be the one needing help."

"No, no."

Jimin waved off the playful support player Sangjin. On the schedule, Jimin, Junyoung, and Sangjin were going first at 22:00, getting ready to broadcast on the official partner platform, GGzik.

"······"

Jimin was using his old streaming account as-is. Of course, the channel page now carried a P1 Jimin intro—and a brand-new profile photo taken the moment he'd been called up.

Here we go.

He'd been so nervous he couldn't even read the comments under the notice he'd posted on the channel page. Jimin watched 22:00 arrive.

"······"

The ranked lobby. Cam on. Some of it familiar, some of it not.

"······"

I'm gonna lose it.

Chat started rolling. Nerves were crushing the welcome and the excitement. But unlike before, Jimin couldn't hide his face—and that was turning into a real problem for streaming. Back then he could just give an awkward little laugh whenever he got flustered. Not anymore.

"Ah—hello, everyone."

A stream title with the team name and nickname attached—instead of the old Challenger score updates—felt a little embarrassing too.

"Ahem."

But the viewer count kept climbing. Familiar nicknames in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠chat. He was turning back into the old Jimin.

"10-Year Top Laner-nim! Thank you. It's been forever—how have you been?"

At the start of a stream you were generally told not to name-drop viewers and turn them into regulars. Right now, Jimin was ignoring that policy completely. As a P1 first-team player, he was already too busy hunting for the right answers in Sol. He had no bandwidth left for orthodoxy on things like this.

"Thanks for the 1,000 won donation. Oh, really? Next time you see me in Jongno, just say your nickname."

Jimin said it with a straight face.

"Jimin's got the most viewers."

"We're on a whole different level from him."

"······"

His teammates' voices from the side. Jimin scratched his head, embarrassed.

"Ahem. Alright, let's go."

Stream was stream. Jimin slowly queued up ranked. First day back, so he'd brought out the main account on purpose.

"Ah, the team building here is really nice."

"The food is really good."

"There's a gym—I haven't used it yet though."

Challenger queues ran long. Jimin calmly fielded viewers' questions.

More than this.

He'd only just started streaming. More viewers would show up. Jimin worked hard to shake off the last of the nerves. He was a pro streamer and a pro gamer, after all.

"Alright, first game."

First stream under the name P1 Jimin. First game.

"This is the comeback, so."

First pick: Jason. A champion he'd shown viewers a lot in his early streaming days.

"Ahem."

First game—better win it.

"Oh, it's Jimin?"

"Huh?"

Junyoung, sitting in the same room, spoke up. The mid laner on Jimin's enemy team was none other than Junyoung himself.

A viewer who knew every pro gamer nickname in solo queue cold had sent a donation.

Dexter.

The one to watch—Dexter—had landed on the same team.

"······"

A grin.

The first thought that hit him······

The viewers were going to love this.