Today's Chicken Mukbang W 8 - Hyacinth in Bloom

A shortcut to solve annoying worries. After staring at the memo for a long time as if fighting with my inner self, I crossed it out without regret. No matter what, I didn’t want to break my promise to Imun with my own hands.

‘THATMOON, let’s only play ranked games together from now onㅋㅋ I’ll support you well’

‘ㅎㅎ Let me think about it;;’

‘ㅋㅋㅋ Stop playing hard to getㅋㅋ’

‘Okay thenㅎㅎ’

I faintly recalled the chat we had the day after I met Imun. We’d actually been playing duo every day since then, so it was a proposal I had momentarily forgotten about despite making it myself.

This morning, I searched through his game records, hoping we might have just been missing each other online. Unfortunately, my expectation was off the mark, but I discovered an unexpected fact—he hadn’t played any ranked games other than duos with me.

No wonder our promotion timing was the same. I was really grateful that he kept his promise without forgetting our casual agreement. I was grateful, but the problem was that he wasn’t logging in.

“You, just wait until you come online.”

I don’t know what’s keeping him so busy, but next time I won’t let him go so easily. Hajun clenched his fist tightly, trying to suppress his rising anger.

***

It had been a full 10 days since Imun showed even the slightest presence in the game. By now, I had moved beyond anger to a state of half-resignation.

Since looking at my friends list only made me depressed, I stopped keeping Legend of Legend open just to wait for him.

Maybe he would never come back. The assumption I wanted to avoid seemed increasingly real.

After finishing a livestream, Hajun sighed while looking at the Legend of Legend icon on his desktop. It was emotionally easier not to expect anything. With a liberated mind, he launched the game and was comfortably sipping his coffee when:

– THATMOON: Hyung

– THATMOON: Hello

Now I’m seeing things. While I was blinking vacantly, I suddenly choked on my coffee. Even as I coughed and shed slight tears, I felt relieved that he hadn’t completely quit the game.

As I was covering my mouth to subdue my cough, a call request came through on Discodi. Just before reflexively clicking the mouse, I managed to stop my hand and lean back against my chair.

The days of anxiety because of him unfolded in my mind like a panorama. As much as I had waited for Imun, I wasn’t quite satisfied to let things go just like that.

What excuse are you going to make, you rascal! Pursing my lips, I let him stew for a while before sluggishly accepting the third call.

“Hyung, have you been well?”

It was a weak voice that would drain even the listener’s energy. “Have you been very busy?” “Um, yes. A little.” His small laugh and affirmation automatically made me frown.

Like this, I can’t even be angry. Although I had intended to scold him as soon as we talked, I couldn’t bring myself to say harsh words to someone who looked so exhausted.

With an aggrieved expression, I stared at the monitor for a while before carefully raising the question I’d been stewing over for days.

“What exactly are you preparing that’s keeping you so busy? Your logins have suddenly become very sparse.”

“…I’m sorry. I was thinking I should tell you, but my work finishes late every time. Even when I log into the game, you’re not there…”

I was speechless, and a hollow laugh escaped. Except for the past few days, I had waited for him almost every day until midnight.

What could keep a college student busy every day of the week until well past midnight? Even if he had a night job, he should have been able to come online during the day.

I didn’t want to think that Imun was lying from the start. But this time too, he seemed determined not to tell me the exact reason.

Would it be rude to ask more? Would I be crossing a line? After mindlessly tapping on the desk for a few minutes, I ruffled my hair in irritation.

“That job… what is it? What are you doing that keeps you busy until dawn without any time to play?”

“Ah, um… I’ve been attending an academy lately, and I’m going to… enter a boarding academy soon, so I’m in the middle of various preparations. You’re angry, aren’t you? I’m sorry…”

Sensing something unusual, Imun continued with his fumbling excuses. I could almost see him floundering, not knowing what to do.

It wasn’t so bad to see him pleading with me. My feelings of disappointment and hurt melted away like snow, and only a smirk leaked out.

Why am I so weak for this guy? These wildly fluctuating feelings whenever he was involved were unfamiliar even to myself. But our first encounter had been quite intense, so it wasn’t completely incomprehensible.

I still had questions, but why he couldn’t log into the game no longer mattered. As long as it wasn’t because he didn’t want to be involved with me or was tired of the game, anything was fine.

Come to think of it, wasn’t he in his final year of university this year? Though I had no experience to gauge by, someone facing job hunting would naturally be busy with various matters.

I didn’t know what a boarding academy was, but it would surely make him busier than he already was. He was making major preparations, and as a friend, I shouldn’t pressure him—let alone support him.

While sorting through my complicated thoughts, Imun’s apologies had ceased. Not even his breathing could be heard, suggesting he was anxiously watching my reaction.

Imagining him anxiously sitting at his computer, the corners of my mouth kept twitching. After deliberately keeping silent for a few minutes, I finally couldn’t hold back and burst out laughing.

“Hyung…?”

“I’m not angry. What’s there to be angry about? Real life naturally comes first. Besides, it’s not like we… promised to see each other every day.”

“You mentioned waiting for me several times before… While we’re on the topic, hyung, I won’t be able to come online at all from now on. Actually, I came today to tell you this.”

Before Imun could finish, Hajun’s face froze. He came specifically to tell me he was quitting the game. His thoughtful consideration, which I had always appreciated, was unwelcome just for today.

Legend of Legend was our only means of contact. This meant that if Imun stopped logging into the game, he and I would be completely done.

That’s quite a cruel thing to say to someone. It felt like my past behavior of easily cutting off contact with gaming acquaintances was coming back to haunt me.

I thought he had grown somewhat attached to me too. While suppressing my disappointment and vacantly staring at Imun’s account, a sudden realization crossed my mind.

I was really thinking of you as a friend.

Due to my self-imposed isolation, I rarely formed deep relationships with others that required contemplation. It was ironic that I had finally defined our relationship, only to face an imminent farewell.

The fact that we could no longer laugh and chat together, that we had to become strangers, was too unfortunate. What if I was just jumping to conclusions? With a desperate desire to grasp at straws, I asked again.

“Are you… completely quitting the game?”

“Um… no, that’s not it. It’s just that for a while, I don’t know when I’ll be able to log in. I want to hang out with you often too, but circumstances don’t allow it…”

Imun’s voice was gentle, as if soothing my anxiety. It seemed he had no intention of completely cutting ties with me. Just as I was about to sigh in relief and brush off my chest, another worry stirred in my mind.

Not knowing when he could log in—that was barely different from quitting the game.

I couldn’t keep waiting for him and staring at Legend of Legend forever. Not only was it emotionally draining, but physically exhausting too.

The solution was obvious, but it required me to take one step closer to him. Two paths lay before me, making it difficult to choose one decisively.

Should I continue a more substantial friendship with Imun, or remain just a gaming friend as now? The deliberation didn’t last long.

“Then, give me your phone number.”

As soon as I spoke, a heavy silence fell. It seemed he was contemplating our relationship as much as I was.

“You said you don’t know when you’ll be able to log in. Even if not through the game, let’s at least text or call.” I pushed him once more and moistened my lips.

After a few minutes, Imun’s phone number flowed through the speaker. Only upon hearing the unfamiliar number starting with ‘010’ did it finally sink in that he was across the ocean.

“Do you use Lime?”

“Lime? No…”

“In Korea, people mainly use KaTok, right? I’ll download it.”

We couldn’t always make international calls or texts. Since he had downloaded Discodi for me, a little inconvenience was worth enduring.

After installing the app and synchronizing contacts, exactly one profile appeared—probably Imun’s. I was momentarily disappointed by the default image with no photo set, but then smiled lightly.

[Seo Imun]

It was his full name, which I hadn’t known until now despite always thinking I should ask. Well, at least I got something. My heart rippled with indescribable emotions.

“Well, shall we check if it’s real?”

Having received his phone number, it was only natural to try calling. With a nervous heart, I pressed the call button and waited for a response, but he didn’t answer until the connection tone ended.

He was already on a call with me through Discodi, so I couldn’t attribute it to him being busy. After blankly staring at my phone that had eventually disconnected, Hajun spoke up.

“What’s up? Why didn’t you answer? Are you charging your battery?”

“That call just now… was that you, hyung?”