What the hell, a message you’d only expect to get at 2 AM… Cha Sa-yoon frowned as he stared at the notification. He had actually received messages like this from an ex before. Even so, his thumb moved instinctively, sending a reply.
[No way]
[Killer] ( Link )
As soon as he responded, Killer immediately sent a link. Sa-yoon clicked it, already knowing what it was. As expected, it was the summary post he had just seen.
[Killer] I gathered evidence on the weird stuff and uploaded it
[Killer] I also sent an inquiry to the Wartoom admins
[I saw it]
[When did you even find this?]
[You really went all out]
[Killer]I told you I’d get you to rank #1
Between the creaking of his cot, a memory surfaced. Killer had said those words back when he was trying to convince him to duo together.
“I didn’t think he’d actually keep it in mind…”
Thinking about it, Killer wasn’t a bad partner. No—honestly, he was a damn good one.
For the past few weeks, from the moment he opened his eyes to the moment he shut them, he had been with Killer. They had synced their sleep schedules and daily routines completely. Even trivial things like bathroom breaks or stepping out for a smoke—they reported everything to each other.
Of course, they ate together too. At first, they had set meal times separately, but eventually, they just started eating with their headsets on. Later on, they were even running matches while eating. Killer always made sure to mute his mic whenever he was chewing, though.
Even if they had traveled together in real life, he doubted he would’ve learned Killer’s habits this well. No matter how close you were, sticking together this long was bound to cause differences in opinion.
But throughout all their matches, Killer and Sa-yoon never once had any conflicts.
The reason was simple—Killer adjusted everything to match Sa-yoon. Even when they queued for six hours straight without a meal break, he never complained.
That wasn’t all. Later on, when Sa-yoon suggested cutting down on sleep to play even more, Killer agreed without hesitation. At that point, their average sleep time had dropped to just two or three hours.
“Thinking about it now… I was insane.”
Even in hindsight, their schedule had been utterly reckless.
As a result, the moment the matches ended, Sa-yoon had passed out like the dead. But while he was out cold, Killer had immediately noticed something was off, gathered evidence, and blown the whole thing wide open.
The final decision wasn’t out yet, but given the undeniable proof and the public opinion in the community, even if a permanent ban didn’t happen, a rank #1 removal was guaranteed.
Sa-yoon wasn’t just impressed—he was proud. If Killer were next to him, he would’ve ruffled his hair and maybe even kissed him as a reward.
At this point, Killer wasn’t just a good partner—Sa-yoon owed him big time. He absentmindedly tapped his phone against his chin, deep in thought. He couldn’t just let this slide, right?
With practiced ease, he navigated to a familiar section of the app. The screen quickly filled with various types of fried chicken. It didn’t take long to choose a menu and complete the payment.
[Killer] ?
[Killer] What’s this?
[Chicken]
[Killer] Like I wouldn’t know?
[Just wanted to treat you, haha.]
[Killer] Hyung, do you have money to burn?
[I can at least afford to send you some chicken.]
[Killer] That’s not what I meant.
Ah… This is kind of embarrassing….
[Killer] I’ll send it back.
“Oh, hell no!”
Just as Sa-yoon was debating his next move, a new message popped up. The thought of Killer actually returning the chicken made his thumb move fast.
[I sent it because I’m grateful.]
[You didn’t get any sleep or eat properly because of me.]
[Don’t reject my feelingsㅜㅜ]
[Killer] Hyung, are you this nice to everyone?
[What are you even talking about?]
The “1” next to the message disappeared immediately. But no reply came, nor was the gift returned.
***
The forum buzz didn’t die down over the weekend—it only got worse.
Talks of sending a protest truck started on Inventory, an online gaming community, and once a few drama-chasing content creators jumped on the story, things spread like wildfire.
In the end, when a news article came out exposing the match-fixing scandal involving real money transactions, Wartum had no choice but to issue an urgent announcement.
[Notice] Regarding Pair Battlegrounds
The long-winded post was filled with apologies and expressions of regret, but the key point was simple:
They were conducting an expedited investigation, and any accounts found guilty of improper gameplay would face consequences.
As soon as he took his eyes off his phone, the previously noisy lecture hall went silent. The professor had entered. Sa-yoon glanced at the empty seat beside him. A strange feeling settled in his chest.
***
Inside the sizzling pot, orange fish roe popped one by one as they cooked. Sa-yoon quickly mixed his rice and spoke.
“Something feels off.”
As usual, after class, he had gone to eat with his regular meal companion, Yeon-hee.
“What does?”
“Shin-jae’s avoiding me.”
“Huh?”
“The first time he skipped, I didn’t think much of it. But then he missed the next class too.”
And then, when the seat beside him remained empty yet again, it finally hit him. Ah, he’s avoiding me.
“You’re probably imagining things. Maybe he just got hungover,” Yeon-hee said casually as she continued stirring her rice bowl.
“No, listen. I even went to his theater club to find him. He was there during practice, but the moment I turned away to talk to Ha-rim, he bolted.”
That wasn’t even the worst part. The entire time he was practicing, he never once glanced in Sa-yoon’s direction. But the second Sa-yoon got distracted, he could feel Shin-jae’s eyes drilling into him.
How did he know? Because every single time he looked back at Shin-jae, their eyes met. And every single time, Shin-jae freaked out and looked away like a startled frog.
“Sunbae.”
“Hm?”
Suddenly, Yeon-hee put her spoon down and looked at him with a serious expression.
“You were so bothered by this that you went all the way to his theater club? You? And then you stood there watching him?”
“Right? That’s weird, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is weird.”
“He’s definitely avoiding me.”
“No, you are the weird one here.”
“Huh?”
“You’re not normally like this.”
Yeon-hee picked up her spoon again, but by then, the rice had already started sticking to the hot stone bowl. She scraped at it while shooting him another pointed look.
“What do you mean, ‘not normally like this’?”
“You’re the type who—how do I put this—you notice things, you’re considerate, but you don’t really… care.”
“The hell does that mean?”
Sa-yoon squinted, feeling like he was getting even more lost in this conversation.
“I mean, you take care of people when they’re around, but you don’t go out of your way. Like, you’re fun when you hang out, and you’ll answer texts when someone reaches out first, but you never initiate contact. Oh! You’re the ‘doesn’t stop people from coming, doesn’t hold onto them when they leave’ type.”
“That’s a misunderstanding.”
“Misunderstanding, my ass. Sunbae, think about Han Jun-woo for a second.”
Han Jun-woo—now that was a name he hadn’t heard in a while. At the mention of it, Sa-yoon shut his mouth.
“You remember how much Jun-woo looked up to you, right? But then, when he took a leave of absence from school, you didn’t even notice.”
“Uh…”
“That’s just how you are. When someone’s in front of you, you take good care of them, but the second they’re out of sight—poof. Gone.”
To emphasize, Yeon-hee made an exaggerated motion with her hand, as if pushing something far, far away.
“This is different.”
“And how is it different?”
The innocent question made Sa-yoon put his spoon down this time.
His relationship with that junior had turned awkward for a reason.
Jun-woo had confessed to him. He had turned him down. The awkwardness that followed was inevitable.
But he couldn’t exactly say that out loud, so he took his time choosing his next words carefully.
“He’s kind of like a sesame seed, you know? If you don’t keep an eye on him, he’s probably off causing trouble somewhere. He probably skips meals too. Doesn’t he look like the type who can’t even eat alone?”
At that, Yeon-hee gave him a strange look.
They had been talking about Han Jun-woo, yet somehow, Sa-yoon had completely shifted the conversation to Sa Shin-jae.
And he was the only one who didn’t seem to realize it.
“He also seems like the kind to get lonely easily.”
In other words, he’s been on your mind a lot.
“…Guess it’s true what they say, good looks win everything.”
Every film student knew it was common practice to shower actors with compliments. But this? This was going overboard.
Since when did he become such a lovestruck fool?
Yeon-hee shook her head. So Sunbae likes Sa Shin-jae because he’s handsome? No, no. He’s a sesame seed, remember?
The meaningless debate lasted until their meal turned cold.
***
Ten minutes into the lecture.
The hallway, once bustling, had emptied out, leaving only a single figure in its quiet expanse.
Sa Shin-jae.
Two absences, one tardy—he was now teetering on the edge of an F.
And yet, despite being late again, his steps remained unhurried. He had no interest in the class anyway.
Two tardies equaled one absence. Four absences meant automatic failure. If today counted as a tardy, that put him at three total absences. One more, and he was done.
I can’t avoid this forever.
Letting out a low sigh, Shin-jae reached for the back door handle.
But before he could open it—
A hand suddenly grabbed his wrist.
Startled, he looked up.
The very person he had been avoiding stood right in front of him.
Cha Sa-yoon.
But unlike usual, he was dressed entirely in black—a windbreaker, training pants, even a black baseball cap.
He looked like he had been lurking somewhere, just waiting to ambush him.
“Shin-jae-ah. Our dear junior.”
Sa-yoon grinned, still slightly out of breath, one hand braced on his knee.
“Let’s have a little chat, yeah?”
