Seunghoon stepped out of their house after eating lunch. He had nothing but his hoodie, his phone, and his wallet in his pocket. He didn't even bother fixing his hair. It's not like he would encounter someone.
He just wanted to walk.
The late spring breeze greeted him the moment he stepped outside. The air in May was neither too warm nor too cold. It was just the perfect temperature for people to walk around without sweating too much.
The cherry blossoms had already fallen by now, but there were still a lot of foreign people visiting.
Maybe it was because Korea in May was beautiful. The skies were a little clearer, and the mood of the city was lighter. Cafes had their windows open, and people in light jackets or shirts walked hand-in-hand, sipping iced coffees.
Seunghoon tucked his hands into his pockets as he walked down the block. He didn't really have a plan, but just walked until he wanted.
For the first time in days, he just wanted to move and see something else beyond the four corners of his room.
His feet carried him through alleys and open main roads. He stopped by a tteokbokki stand near the corner and grabbed a cup. He walked a little further and got himself a skewer of fish cake and a canned drink.
Even if he was full already, he didn't let it bother him. Food is food, and each bite he got warmed his stomach.
After eating, he kept walking again.
He recalled what happened earlier.
When he helped his mother carry the groceries, she hadn't said a word. Not a single "thank you" or even a nod. But he saw how her eyes softened just a little. But what surprised him more was what happened afterward.
When he entered the kitchen to eat, he expected the usual silence. That's how it always had been.
But this time, the silence was different.
His mother didn't speak, but she walked over to the rice cooker and scooped a bowl for him. She placed it on the table gently, without uttering a word. Then, she also reheated the stew in the pot that had gone cold.
It wasn't much, yet, it was everything.
It was a small unspoken care between a mother and a son who hadn't spoken properly in months.
Seunghoon ate quickly and when he finished, he stood up, placed his bowl in the sink, and said softly, "Thanks."
His mother paused, but she didn't reply.
Still, her hand, which had been arranging the groceries, became frozen for a moment. Her eyes flicked toward him briefly, and he noticed how her mouth twitched slightly as if they wanted to say something.
As he walked through the streets, the weight of that moment sat gently in his chest. The corner of his mouth slowly rose to the side, forming a small smile.
"Maybe one day, I'll be able to talk to them too," Seunghoon could only hope.
For a while, he just kept on walking and walking. He passed by streets, crowds, and even food stalls. But he didn't bother buying more food since he was already too full.
Nothing really caught his attention until he noticed something strange.
A crowd.
At first, he thought that there was just an idol nearby, which was why there was a group of people gathering with their phones. However, when he turned to the corner, he noticed that there was more people there.
People had gathered on the side of a massive glass building with open space in front. In there, Large LED panels were lined up. The panels were showing logos of two different teams, a map, heroes moving, and a vibrant overlay of the game stats.
He looked up at the screen again as if watching it more closely.
Suddenly, it hit him.
A full Rise of Legends match was being streamed right there, in front of everyone.
The broadcast was live. The casters' voice could also be heard from the well-placed outdoor speaker. It wasn't that loud, just enough for people to hear what was happening in the game while being mindful of the other business around
Every kill, every tower destroyed, every team fight was displayed in full sight. A shout erupted from the crowd as one of the teams pulled off a huge play mid-map.
Seunghoon blinked.
He looked at the massive lettering on the building.
RPL Arena
This was it.
RPL Arena was the biggest esports venue in the country. It was where different esports competitions were held, especially for the Rise Pro League. The arena was built by the game's developer, HOT Games.
People who couldn't get tickets for the venue had gathered outside just to watch it on the massive display. Fans wore their favorite team jerseys. Some of them were even carrying light sticks while others held banners.
Rise of Legends wasn't just big in South Korea—it was South Korea's number 1 game.
It had been dominating PC cafés since its release. High schools had after-class clubs centered around it, university teams competed in annual intercollegiate tournaments, and even working adults played it in their free time.
This game wasn't just a hobby.
Professional matches regularly pulled in millions of viewers, domestically and internationally.
Pro players were known, and some were even bigger celebrities than K-pop idols. They starred in brand deals, variety shows, and even modeled for athletic wear. And those on top even had their own established fandoms.
The game's complexity, its high skill ceiling, and its regularly changing patches made it a sport where talent couldn't be faked.
The best was truly the best. And if you weren't good, you wouldn't last.
The RPL Arena stood as a symbol of that. It was more than just a stadium. It was where dreams were made—or crushed. Dozens of pro teams across different regions traveled here each year to play in front of thousands of screaming fans, with hundreds of thousands more watching at home.
And now, Seunghoon was standing right in front of it again.
It's been almost 3 years since he had gone to that arena.
He looked up at the massive screen again, eyes quietly following the players' movements, their timing, their synergy.
He sighed and shook his head.
"I'll come back here… one day."