Vacation (2)

Sera's house.

"So, back then, Coach fixed my positioning like this, saying it was all wrong. And it actually worked perfectly! Isn't that amazing, Aunt?"

"Hmm..."

Sera's aunt stared silently at Sera, who was chattering away unusually during dinner, as if something might reveal itself if she just kept watching.

"What? Do I have something on my face?"

"It's just... weird."

"Huh?"

"It's so strange. You've never once gone into this much detail with me about school or cram school life your whole life. But now you're all excited talking about your gamer days. You didn't even seem that into it back when you were just playing games before."

"Th-that's just 'cause I met these great sisters and Coach, and it makes me happy..."

"For someone who's so happy about those great sisters, you sure don't talk about them much. It's all Coach, all day long."

Sera flinched and averted her eyes. But her aunt followed Sera's darting gaze with her own, smirking lightly before speaking up.

"Sera, you like that coach, don't you?"

"Wha—no! No way! I don't like Coach even a little bit!"

Oh? Really? You're practically screaming how much you love him to death. Sera's aunt thought, chuckling softly to herself.

"You little rascal, you can't fool your aunt's eyes. Your mom went overseas for work when she was young, seduced some local guy there, and brought him home—and look at you, just like her, scouting guys at your workplace."

"N-no, it's not like that! You're misunderstanding. I really don't like him."

"Is that so? Maybe your aunt got it wrong then."

"Y-yeah. Misunderstanding. Right, total misunderstanding."

"Well, good then. Your aunt has this close friend with a pretty college girl daughter, and she asked me if I knew any nice guys to introduce. That coach fellow I met last time? Tall, handsome as hell. Would've been awkward if you'd claimed him. Hey, what if your aunt texts him and sets up a—"

"No!!!"

Sera shot up from her seat, yelling before she could stop herself.

Sera's aunt grinned wickedly, savoring her niece's flushed, beet-red face—like a daughter of her own.

"Why not? You said you weren't interested."

"I-it's just... ughhh... you're right, Aunt... I do like Coach..."

"Ohohoho! You gotta fool someone who can be fooled, kid. Back in the day, your mom and I were so popular we were like dating doctors. We could spot it a mile away."

"W-was it that obvious?"

"Of course. Your face was plastered with 'My heart races just thinking of Coach, butterflies everywhere.'"

"Not that bad..."

The aunt felt deeply satisfied seeing her niece—who she'd raised since her sister and brother-in-law passed—finally acting like a normal teenage girl in the throes of puberty, perhaps for the first time ever.

She was grateful that Sera, who'd endured such harsh bullying, now had friends like other girls her age and even a crush, living a somewhat ordinary life.

"Aigoo, you rascal. Finally pulling off that high school girl look. But if you like your coach that much, what's with those clothes?"

"What's wrong with my clothes?"

"I saw it all. Your team photos. Look at those sisters—pretty, dressed to kill for the occasion. But you? Always that damn hat pulled low, jeans, no makeup, no effort. You got an ugly face? Bad figure? You've gotta woman up and make a move! Keep this up, and some random girl or one of your team sisters will snatch him away. No, can't have that. You probably don't even know how to do makeup. After dinner, let's swing by the shop. Your aunt'll turn you into a goddess!"

"You're acting weird today, Aunt."

Sera's aunt was more thrilled than Sera herself, regressing to her old "dating doctor" days at the sight of her niece finally embracing proper youth.

Daehangno.

A girl with striking pink hair leaned against the wall at the entrance of a building, blowing bubblegum and fiddling with her phone.

"Excuse me."

A guy's voice came from in front. Eunjae looked up. The man who met her eyes flushed slightly, hesitated, then took a deep breath as if steeling himself.

"Um... y-you're my type, so... if you don't have a boyfriend, could I get your number?"

Hunting season, huh.

Not her first time. Eunjae blew a bigger bubble, popped it, and chewed it back in.

"Ya want my number?"

"Y-yes!"

"But I'm a minor."

"Huh?"

"Minor, ya know."

"Oh... s-sorry. My bad."

The guy scratched his head and slunk back to his friends. They pestered him for the result.

"Score?"

"Nah. She's underage."

"You idiot! That make sense? What minor wanders Daehangno alone on a weekday afternoon? She just ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠shot you down! My turn, watch."

Ugh, annoying.

Another guy approached. Eunjae glanced away, but he pressed on, flirting hard.

"Hey? By yourself?"

"...Yeah."

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

"First time in Daehangno? If you're lost, I know all the spots. Lemme show ya around."

"Nah, I'm good. Waitin' for someone."

"Ah~ boyfriend?"

"Nah. Some sisters I know."

His eyes lit up brighter.

"Perfect timing. We're a group too. Guys and girls separate's boring—wanna team up and check out Daehangno? Or it's hot out, maybe hit a cafe real quick—"

"Um... hey."

"Yeah?"

"Thanks, but I got plans with the sisters later. And I ain't got a boyfriend, but I do got someone I like. So beggin' for my number's pointless."

His iron-wall defense left the guy gaping like a fish, speechless.

As he tried to push further, a sweaty group of women emerged from behind the building.

"Eunjae!"

"Sisters!"

Eunjae scampered over. The failed hunter tsked and returned to his mocking friends' stares.

"Show over?"

"Yeah. Break till next slot."

"Shoulda come sooner. Wanted to see the dance musical too."

"Oh? Want a ticket later? We got extras for friends of the cast."

"Yes, gimme!"

"Heard you got promoted? Nice. You'll blow past us someday."

"Hehe, just startin' out."

"Promotion party—club tonight? Heavy makeup for you, Eunjae."

"Hehe, club music been too long. But..."

Eunjae hummed thoughtfully, then shook her head.

"No clubs for a while."

"Whaa? Our dance machine Kim Eunjae quittin' clubs?"

"Someone super precious told me not to go."

"Kyaa! Crazy! Eunjae got a boyfriend!"

"Not quite a boyf—"

"Who? Name? Pics? Hot? Age? Job? How'd ya meet? How far? Held hands? Kiss? Whoa—already slept together? Protection?"

Eunjae got mobbed by her old dance practice sisters, bombarded with terrifying questions.

Yuna's university band club—on break.

Campus was quiet, but a few members practiced electric guitars, synths, drums in the peaceful room.

Snacks piled mountain-high in one corner.

The door burst open amid the instrument noise—no chatter otherwise—and a tall woman with a long black ponytail stormed in.

"The Hero of Reversal from Division 3, Cha Yuna, has arrived!"

"Yuna!"

"Yo~ Cha Yuna ditches band for pro gaming and levels up?"

"Pfft, level up? Gotta win TIC first. Ahh~ booze in the clubroom after ages."

"Pro gamer slamming drinks like that? Thought physicals were athlete-level."

"Nah, senior. It's Yuna, Cha Yuna. One day of drinking, rest is training. Can't treat myself on vacation?"

The senior grinned, grabbed an electric guitar, and handed it over.

"Let's see if Cha Yuna's skills rusted. Band club—no band skills, no entry."

"Wow, this treatment. Gimme a pick. I'll shut that mouth."

Yuna tuned, strummed, and shredded her favorite tune flawlessly. The flashy sound filled the room; members paused, bobbing to the rhythm.

Yuna beamed smugly post-solo.

"How's that?"

"You skip game practice for guitar?"

"Stress relief occasionally—not daily ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠grind."

"Still this sharp? Cheat char."

"How's group life? Team accept you?"

Yuna shot a glare at the prying senior.

"What’s that mean?"

"C'mon. Known you since high school—that temper? Street shows, you rage if not center. Quick to anger. Clashed with onlookers plenty. No fights sharing dorms?"

"Yeah, curious too. Can't picture Yuna in group living."

"That was kid stuff..."

"Recent as hell."

"Anyway! Learned a ton from... stuff."

"Fights, huh."

Nailed, Yuna exploded.

"Y-yeah! A few scraps! But we're good now. Coach taught well, mindset training too."

"Coach? You listen?"

"Not like that. Look—our coach."

Yuna showed a phone pic: her and Yuseong at a dorm-nearby gukbap joint post-practice, bowls and soju shots, just the two.

Friends and seniors passed it, awestruck.

"Whoa... hot."

"Body too—check those arms."

"Girl. That firecracker tamed by a stud?"

"No! I just absorbed his teachings. Mentality fixes, advice, comfort when down, 1:1 training... that's it."

"Senior, see her face?"

"Yeah. First time seeing Yuna like that."

"Yuna, that girly look on you... uncanny."

"Brought booze for drinks, wanna get smashed with bottles?!?!"

A rundown neighborhood in Seoul.

This small, shabby house lacked even a single gaming capsule—common everywhere now. Electricity at night? Questionable. No real furnishings.

No separate rooms; everyone shared one space, no privacy. Musty, stale air hung heavy, flies buzzing now and then, amplifying the poverty.

At a corner desk, a black bob-haired girl scribbled furiously in a notebook, then stood, grabbing familiar clothes.

Seeing Hayoung dress, her mother asked worriedly.

"Hayoung, another part-time gig?"

Poor girl, home on break, hunted short-term jobs ending in 2-3 days—two done already.

Exhausted after, yet she studied nonstop, notebook in hand whenever home.

Vacation, but no rest—mom's heart broke.

When Hayoung wired nearly 3 million won—her first paycheck—the mom collapsed in the empty room, sobbing.

Aside from one treat she'd craved, Hayoung saved every penny. "Dorm feeds and houses me. Use it, Mom." Daughter refused to spend. Mutual sacrifice, but poverty persisted.

Hayoung shook her head at mom's question.

"No, checked—break means few short gigs. Meeting a friend today."

"Go have fun. Better out than cooped up. Head to dorm if needed—Mom's fine."

"Don't say that. Best time's with you at home."

Impossible. Who'd cling to this void?

Mom swallowed tears, unsure if sincere or white lie—heart shattering either way.

"Tomorrow, lawyer again?"

"Yeah, trial dragging."

"It'll be okay. Don't stress, Mom. Got my salary—buy nice clothes for meetings, eat out nearby."

Hayoung's endless worry broke mom; tears flowed.

"Hic... sob... Sorry, Hayoung... Since your dad... this worthless mom does nothing, makes a schoolgirl work... I'm no mother. Hic..."

"Mom..."

Hayoung trembled, holding back tears, hugging tight. Mother-daughter clutched; only mom's sniffles echoed.

"Don't cry, Mom. Dad's gone, but you raised me alone. No you, no capsules, no pro. I'll succeed, make bank, pamper you. No tears."

After consoling, Hayoung rushed out—late for meetup. Mom wiped nose, tidied desk.

Hayoung's notebook lay open, mid-notes.

Mom picked it up, scanned.

Dense notes continued. Meaning unclear, but game-related—Hayoung's play.

Image training, not hands-on—logging needs, weaknesses.

House too broke for a capsule.

Mom pounded chest, lamenting daughter's fate, then calmed and dialed.

"Hello, lawyer? About the SA Group factory death trial—want to meet, update."

"Jinwook! Over here!"

In bustling streets, Hayoung waved happily at approaching peer guy.

Jinwook waved back lightly; Hayoung grinned, grabbing his hand tight.

"Hehe, real date after so long, right?"

"Yeah. Barely saw you since pro meant skipping school."

His edged tone made Hayoung wince apologetically.

"Ugh... sorry. Team banned dating..."

"Doesn't make sense. Not idols."

"But we're meeting now! Forget that—fun today!"

"Where to?"

"Uh... not sure..."

"Anything in mind?"

"No... part-times right after break..."

"Time for jobs, not me."

Jinwook sighed low. His blaming tone shook Hayoung's eyes.

"J-Jinwook? Mad I prioritized work? Sorry... you know our home..."

"Poor."

"......"

"I'm struggling too. Allowance from folks—can't buy wants. Dates? I pay food, movies, coffee always."

"Sorry... got salary now. I pay today. Cool off?"

"Plus, vacation—you pick jobs over me? Twice? Week in. You think of me this little?"

Hayoung teared up, pleading desperately.

"No! Missed you tons! Wanted you first! But home's so poor—"

"Poor! Poor! Poor!"

His yell startled; Hayoung dropped his hand.

"How long do I endure? Friends date fine; I adjust to you always. You skip contact for work. What kinda couple? Team bans dating? I'm sidelined more."

"N-not like that... love you so mu—"

"Sorry, don't like you much anymore."

Hayoung's heart plummeted. Brain blanked, rejecting the words.

"Ji...nook? What'd you say..."

"Tired understanding poverty, matching it. Wanna theme parks, full days out like others. Can't date proper? Shouldn't have boyfriend."

"Sorry, my fault... please, no anger? Scary... not my Jinwook. No more poor talk. Won't burden. Please..."

"Let's break up."

Tears streamed down Hayoung's cheeks.

"Sorry, been seeing someone. Can't date with jobs and ban—best for both. Wanna spend allowance on me, girl without poor vibes."

With that, Jinwook turned and left. Hayoung wailed beastly, grabbing—but he shook her off coldly.

"No more contact. Won't answer."

"Jinwook... Jinwook! Jinwook!!! Don't go, please..."

Her cries didn't reach. Alone after boyfriend left, Hayoung collapsed, sobbing loudly uncaring of stares.

For Hayoung, vacation wasn't vacation.