Debut and Return (4)

(Oz): I'm going to force jungle fights hard.

(Luca): Okay.

(Durandal): Jun, you good holding alone?

(Rapid): I'm fine.

(Durandal): Good. Still, I'll come back for proper recalls.

(Oz): I'm not leaving Naru alone, so don't worry.

(Jimin): Got it.

"……"

It's fine, though.

Given the draft, it made sense—but Jimin still would have preferred they looked at other lanes more often. In a pure 1v1 he was always confident, so the farther the main battlefield drifted from top, the better it was for him.

Was that arrogance? Maybe. But it still felt like an advantage in his favor.

Jax–Naru.

Vine–Scanner.

Taliyah–Azir.

Ezreal–Miss Fortune.

Rakan–Nautilus.

Personally, his Jax had been growing more confident by the day. And Naru was a champion he'd practiced relentlessly since going pro. Even with his short career, competing at the absolute top level had given Jimin real belief in this matchup.

"……"

The first scrim of the day after Jimin and Kang Jun had joined the roster. P1's strength—mid-lane dominance—was already showing.

(Durandal): Ah, that feels good.

On top of that, Ezreal slipped Nautilus's skill once and then shoved Miss Fortune back with a clean skill shot.

(Oz): Looking at Azir once.

(Luca): Yeah.

Vine's fist snaking toward the enemy Azir. Taliyah's follow-up landed perfectly.

(Luca): Nice.

(Oz): Flash is down—we can look again next time.

Vine had burned Flash too, but forcing a death and a spell off the enemy mid left them in a far more comfortable position.

(Durandal): Going.

(Oz): All in one.

Both side bushes went dark. P1's jungler and support finished setting up to collapse on Azir from either side.

(Durandal): Hooked him.

Rakan's Flash-combo CC sent Azir floating. Then Vine and Taliyah piled on—there was no surviving that.

(Luca): Nice.

(Oz): Mid's just done.

The two mid-lane champions were already worlds apart in the early game. The spine of the map had cracked open from the start.

(Jimin): Scanner top.

Jimin locked in and held a 1v2 for a moment.

(Jimin): Ah—Scanner no Flash.

He lived, trading his own Flash for Scanner's.

(Oz): Oh, nice play.

(Luca): Winning top and taking Scanner's Flash—yeah, that's fine.

They were ahead. Jax was already slightly outgrowing Naru, so the team took it as a net positive.

(Durandal): Naut first.

(Oz): Naut! Naut!

While the enemy Scanner tried to claw back growth, a gank hit bot.

(Oz): Clean.

(Rapid): MF has no Flash—want to look at a dive?

(Durandal): Vine and I are too low. No.

(Rapid): Ah, okay.

A sharp call. Rapid deferred.

Huh.

Jimin, walking back to lane, tilted his head slightly. Back in Academy, Kang Jun had been a tyrant—and now he was the one bowing his head?

So this is first team, huh?

(Luca): Wall's down.

(Durandal): I'll engage first.

As the winning laning phase wound down and a Herald fight loomed, Rakan struck like lightning—hooking both Azir and Miss Fortune.

(Oz): Whoa, nice.

This game, Vine just had to throw fists at wherever the fight was already decided. With Rakan and Taliyah chaining skills, it was pure button-mashing. Jax joining to hunt the enemy carries finished the fight before it really started.

(Rapid): Scanner!

Ezreal chasing.

(Jimin): Whoa, nice.

(Luca): Clean.

(Durandal): Dude's cooking even alone.

Because of the aggressive early jungle–support ganks, Ezreal had spent a lot of bot laning in 1v2s. And yet nothing had braked his growth—and in teamfights, his presence was dazzling.

(Jimin): Think I can take Naru.

A side-lane duel after both tops had rotated bot. Jax, already packing kill assists from the teamfight and leaning on Naru, wanted more. He dove at Naru in front of the bot tower. Naru barely escaped—but had to abandon the CS.

(Oz): Not happening.

(Jimin): Nice.

Of course, what came after was planned too. Oz's Vine caught the fleeing Naru—HP and skills both spent—between the enemy's first and second towers.

(Luca): They can't make Baron for this.

The growth gap was fully open. After locking vision, Taliyah dropped a Wall of the Earthshaper near the Baron pit—the enemy couldn't even approach.

(Durandal): Guys, looking for angles.

Take Baron, siege. Even then, Rakan was still hunting aggressive dives.

(Jimin): Got him.

Meanwhile, on the side, Jax—two levels up—picked off the enemy Naru.

(Durandal): Oh, what?

(Jimin): Taking TP.

(Oz): Let's go.

A game already tilted. Rakan and Vine initiated almost at the same time. Enemy champions dropped without ceremony.

(Luca): GG.

(Durandal): Whoa, that ended fast.

(Oz): Top played well.

(Luca): You were basically winning Naru from early, weren't you?

(Jimin): They had no vision, so they played a bit passive.

Jimin said it modestly.

(Durandal): Jun, good stuff.

(Rapid): Yeah.

Kang Jun nodded.

"……"

To Jimin, Kang Jun looked heavily restrained—awkward, even.

(Oz): This is Xin Zhao.

(Durandal): What even—Jo Minhyeok!

In the second grub fight, jungle Xin Zhao was everywhere. The moment Viego stole his body, a miraculous skill shot let him live. Braum's peel helped, but mid Neeko's ultimate locking down the enemy carries for a beat was just as crucial.

(Rapid): Ah, so close.

A mid-lane ADC stare-down. Jinx shoved Varus back but missed the finishing ultimate.

(Jimin): Ahem.

Incredible.

Last game, this game—Jimin kept feeling how smoothly they were winning. How to put it? Like if he just did his job, they'd take everything? And these were pro first teams on the other side…

(Jimin): K'Sante Flash still not back.

(Jimin): Using ult.

(Oz): Hit the W.

But Jimin always wanted to outplay the enemy top laner. Not just keep up—he wanted to pin their top into the dirt so his teammates could put the period on the sentence.

Camille and Xin Zhao picking off the enemy K'Sante on the side. P1's web was spun all over the Rift.

(Luca): Camille goes first.

With the enemy surrounded, Camille entered first. A hook shot to rattle them, then her ultimate absorbing a few skills. Neeko's ultimate detonated right after. Jinx fired a few rounds and the enemy jungler Viego melted. Once Jinx's passive popped, it was pure showtime.

(Durandal): Nice! Now that's an encirclement.

(Luca): What even is that word.

(Jimin): Whoa, that was really good.

(Oz): Love the confidence.

(Jimin): No, haha, it's not that.

Jimin scratched his head, sheepish. He couldn't count how many times he'd thought it through in his head.

They're strong.

This team was truly strong.

"Whoa."

Jimin was watching the MSC opening match on his phone. An international tournament with the eight teams that had reached spring finals across Korea, China, North America, and Europe. There was no world in which Jimin could ignore this event.

SCK champions Maehwa Life were dismantling last year's SPL winners, Hebei, with overwhelming form.

As expected.

Maehwa Life was really strong too. His own P1 played at a high level, of course, but…

Last year's Worlds winners, Hebei Gaming. But bot and jungle clearly weren't what they were last year—and Maehwa was beating them to it.

"Shame."

But why hadn't last year's Worlds runner-up, AIG, made it to MSC? He'd never watched the SPL regular season—what had happened? He wanted to see more of Hades's play.

Oh, right.

Jimin made a mental note to ask Sangcheol about the SPL when he had time. The guy was an absolute Sol tournament encyclopedia.

"Huuu……"

Even watching a Sol match he loved wasn't settling his nerves.

It's getting to me.

He was meeting Dahui today. That was why he was already near Gangnam Station in the middle of the afternoon, heart pounding. Whether it was the tangle of complicated feelings from their last meeting still lingering, or the stretch of silence when she hadn't answered for a while still eating at him—or both—he couldn't quite tell.

"Aigoo."

"Huh?"

Jimin turned around.

"Came early to wait again, huh."

"……"

Jimin looked away for a second, then had to look back. Apparently the biggest feeling in the mix was closer to excitement.

It was Dahui.

The weather was still a little cold to show skin. But even in a thick knit sweater, she shone.

"Long time no see?"

"Huh? Yeah……"

"Not happy to see me?"

"No, I am."

"Hmm?"

"……"

That easy smile. The Dahui expression he knew.

I missed you.

Standing in the space between them, he measured the words he most wanted to say against how far he was allowed to go—then prepared to speak. The line that had just floated up in his head got eliminated at third place.

Embarrassed, Jimin turned his face away as he stood.

"Uh…… um……"

"What?"

"You sure you're okay?"

"Hm?"

"We can go somewhere else if you want."

The thing he'd meant to say over chat came out now instead.

"Didn't you say you were treating me to whatever I wanted?"

"Still, though…"

"Then let's go."

"……"

Dahui took the lead. That, too, was familiar.

"Everyone orders like this these days."

"Yeah."

They'd arrived at a snack shop. Being weekend midday, it wasn't empty—but almost every table was women only. The mixed tables besides Jimin and Dahui's had the guys looking vaguely out of place.

"Kiosks and stuff feel kind of cold, don't they?"

"Do they?"

"Yeah."

Interesting.

Unless it was a place he'd been going forever, Jimin actually preferred this kind of setup. And he'd figured Dahui would quietly like it too.

"Tteokbokki and sundae set. Let's do this."

"Got it."

Jimin hit the order button and stood up.

"What?"

"Use this."

What he'd brought back was an apron.

"Oh—okay, that's cute."

"……"

When Dahui snorted a laugh, Jimin laughed with her.

"But tteokbokki all of a sudden?"

"I like tteokbokki?"

"Ah……"

Wait—could it be?

Knowing he wasn't making real money yet as a pro, was she asking for something cheap on purpose? That felt exactly like something Dahui would do.

"I came back to streaming a few days ago. Got a lot of donations too."

"Good job."

"Huh?"

Dahui ruffled his hair. He'd had more to say.

"You got even cooler after going pro, Jimin."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really."

"……"

For all that…

If he couldn't become the kind of handsome that drew every eye wherever he went, things like this felt meaningless to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠him. He'd need at least that much—enough to match the way men looked at Dahui—if he ever wanted a real shot at what he wanted.

"Ugh, seriously."

"Huh?"

"I'm really fine, okay? Why is your face all sulky again."

"……"

"I'm off stream today. I've been dying for tteokbokki, but if I eat this my stomach flips and I can't stream that day."

"Is that true?"

"Yeah. So just eat comfortably. Stop thinking weird stuff."

Under Dahui's force of will, Jimin could only nod. There seemed to be some misunderstanding.

But…

The problem was—if tteokbokki flipped her stomach, shouldn't she just not eat it? This wasn't the resolve of someone eating pufferfish ready to die.

In all kinds of ways, Dahui was a woman who kept giving him a sense of mystery.

"Wait, for real?"

"Yeah! The first-team hyungs are super nice and fun too."

After the meal, at a café, Jimin finally talked freely. Watching Dahui laugh made every kind of story spill out—things he never quite managed over calls or chat. Lines he wanted her to laugh at. Lines he just wanted her to take in with a calm face. Words that were a little light and a little heavy at the same time.

"But everyone's so good that I keep thinking, what if I mess up…"

"Come on."

Dahui tapped his shoulder. Pressure was something any pro had to feel—especially belonging to P1's first team. She didn't offer the kind of empty comfort you'd hear on a healing YouTube channel either.

"But last time, I was a little surprised."

"Hm?"

He'd wanted to keep saying this. Jimin brought it up carefully.

"When you suddenly went dark. And you skipped streams too."

"Ah……"

Looking guilty, Dahui gave an awkward smile.

"When Noona feels bad all of a sudden, she doesn't even look at her phone until she's better. I should probably fix that, though."

"Yeah?"

"Guess I'm still immature."

"No—as long as nothing serious happened, it's fine."

Jimin looked away for a second. Of course he hoped she wouldn't do it again. Even if she didn't contact him, if something happened he wanted her to tell the world somehow—through stream, through anything.

"Does your mom say she wants to come to the arena?"

"She has."

"She must be so happy."

"I don't even know when I'll get to play yet, and the team can invite family, but Mom might find ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it a little embarrassing."

"Hmmm—then can't you just ask the team to set it up so it's not awkward, and invite her naturally?"

"Ah…… that."

"If you're going to ask, ask properly. Our Jimin might bring home a Sol Cup trophy any day now."

"……"

Jimin snorted a laugh.

"Yeah. That could work."

"Right?"

Dahui's triumphant smile.

She's pretty.

He couldn't count how many times he'd thought it.

"I'll walk you home."

"Yes, please do."

"……"

Jimin followed after her. He only had so many days off—but he hated the idea of Dahui being outside after dark.

It doesn't matter.

In that stretch when he couldn't reach her, Jimin had felt it—how precious she was. Whatever happened next year, whatever anyone said, for now it didn't matter. Right now ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠he just wanted to see Dahui safe and happy.

Even if this feeling came back as regret someday, he irresponsibly kicked that can down the road to his future self.

"……"

"……"

Jimin kept following Dahui. If he walked her all the way to her actual door, would she hate it?

It should be fine, right?

Half-formed feelings collided. Feeling a little stupid for agonizing this hard over something so small, he still couldn't help it. Unlike Sol—unlike top lane, where he could just try things and reset—reality didn't let him shrug and say "or not."

If Dahui ever thought badly of him, he didn't think he could bear it.

"……"

"……"

Why isn't she saying anything?

Dahui kept walking in silence, and Jimin carefully followed. He'd expected her to say this was far enough around the halfway point.

And then, before he knew it—

"Here."

"Huh?"

A fairly tall building.

"I live in this officetel."

"……"

Not exactly steps from the station—but the whole walk from the station never hit a single empty stretch. Just clean ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Gangnam sidewalks straight to the door. The kind of route where if someone offered to walk you home from the station knowing that, you might almost laugh…

"Is it still bothering you that Noona went dark last time? Aigoo."

"Huh?"

Dahui smiled at him. A face that looked ready to say "you poor thing" any second.

"Thanks for worrying."

"Noona."

"But I'm really fine."

"Yeah."

"Hello!"

"Yes, hello."

Dahui grinned and greeted someone—probably the building security guard. Quite a bit of white hair, a little indifferent-looking, but kindly around the eyes.

"Thanks for walking me."

"Mm."

Dahui waiting for the elevator. That far—no, she'd allowed quite a lot of distance today—was where Jimin decided the line was drawn. She waved him off one last time.

"……"

Please.

If there was a sky, a god, or anything like it, it might say he was wishing for too much and start taking things away. So Jimin thought—even if Dahui never gave him anything more, he just wanted her to keep smiling at him like this.

"Huh?"

"Haha."

And then, briefly, he went near the building and bought something.

"Please have these while you work."

"Oh my, thank you."

"……"

Jimin handed the security uncle sticky rice donuts from a nearby bakery. On his phone, the search bar still read: snacks older folks like.

"Don't see students like you much these days."

"Thank you."

Please look after her.

If anyone asked what he was doing—it was just a prayer, within the limits of what he could do.

"That was solid just now."

"Yes."

"Timing on going home was good too. Your Jayce mastery is clearly high—unless they slap some absurd nerf on him, he's going to keep showing up."

"Yes."

"Good. Keep working hard."

"Nothing to fix?"

"This game… anything weird? Not really sure."

"Ah……"

"You want there to be something?"

"No, not that."

"Then go find it yourself while watching the replay."

"I will."

"Honestly."

Bold words, blank face. P1's coach Hochang smiled looking at Jimin.

"Jimin, for a career this short, this level is honestly incredible, you know? I can tell how much you've practiced."

"I need to do more."

"How am I supposed to stop you."

"……"

Not enough.

The world of Sol was endless. Last time, Yaohwan had told Jimin something that stuck. Even if you gathered the absolute best players here and brought in directors and coaches who truly understood Sol, you still wouldn't find the answer. You just made choices close to the answer and prepared—and it wasn't a perfect team that reached the peak, but the team that got even a little closer.

So how could a greenhorn like him afford to go soft?

"It's break time and you're watching that?"

"Huh?"

Kang Jun said to Jimin, who was watching MSC. Just now, Gen.G Esports support Death's roam had forced Flash off ING mid Galio.

"These SPL teams are boring this year anyway. Even so—Hebei winning without Dexter and Kaji…"

"That so."

Jimin answered soullessly. He knew neither he nor Kang Jun really had deep knowledge of the current SPL.

"……"

Jimin watched the game in silence. There was a reason he hadn't spoken for a while.

Gen.G's top laner Gunt, who'd looked solid against Maehwa Life in the SCK Spring Finals—but he was struggling hard against the enemy top Camille.

What is that.

Camille—the champion he himself had been ramping up mastery on. Was that even the same champ? Could the hook fly that far?

"……"

Gen.G couldn't keep their heads against the Camille–Galio duo.

It's not that Gen.G is bad.

ING's form was too good. Extremely aggressive, and hard to read. Had he ever felt this watching top-tier pro matches? Why had that team only finished second?

This isn't boring at all.

He believed Kang Jun would take his words back if he saw this.

ING's top and mid had physicals that weren't ordinary. A little freeform, a little unpolished—but more than enough to tear the enemy team apart.

Dolph.

Especially the top laner Dolph, who didn't just max out Camille—he made her look like an entirely new champion.

"……"

The world of Sol—and the pro stage—really was deep and wide. That was what Jimin felt.