Seunghoon finally took a step away from the wall filled with memories of his former self. He walked further down the hall; the wooden floor was cool underneath his bare feet.
The hallway led into the living area. It was simple and modest in design. At the center of the room was a worn but well-maintained leather couch, its cushions slightly flattened from years of use.
Across from it, stood a medium-sized television, mounted on a wooden shelf filled with a mixture of framed family pictures and books that looked untouched.
A crocheted throw blanket was neatly folded at the side, and an oscillating fan hummed softly in the corner. The curtains were partly open, letting the sunlight pour in, casting soft shadows across the tiled floor.
He passed through the living area without muttering a single word. He headed straight into the kitchen and dining area, which were joined together in a single open space.
That's where he saw them.
His family.
His mother was by the counter, chopping vegetables with calm and practiced movements. Her back was slightly turned to him; her short brown hair was tucked neatly behind her ears.
His Mother, Lee Seo-Yeon was already in her early 40's. She was kind and patient, but also strict. Her mother was petite and small in height, less than the average height of a Korean woman.
Near Seo-Yeon was his father, Lee Minjin.
Lee Minjin was wearing glasses around his eyes. It was perched low on his nose as he read a newspaper on the dining table. His build was broader, with square shoulders and arms that still looked strong beneath his plain polo shirt.
The two immediately noticed Seunghoon's presence.
"You're finally out of your room." His mother glanced over her shoulder.
"Are you hungry?" his father asked after, though his eyes didn't leave the paper.
"Yeah. I went out cause I'm hungry." Seunghoon hesitated to answer, feeling a little awkward.
It was his first interaction with the two, and he didn't know how to act around them.
Seo-Yeon silently grabbed a bowl from the cabinet and placed it by the rice cooker without being asked. His father turned the page of the newspaper with a soft flick.
His family looked normal.
But the truth was, it was beyond that.
Their relationship had been strained, the day that the former Seunghoon announced to his parents that he would quit high school.
Honestly, it was a mystery to him why Seunghoon did it when he hadn't even proven himself yet.
He had nothing on his name, so it was kind of stupid.
Seunghoon moved quietly to the table, each step echoing softly against the tiled floor. He picked up the bowl his mother had left by the rice cooker and served himself a scoop of steaming white rice.
Next to it, side dishes were already laid out: stir-fried anchovies, kimchi, and spinach seasoned with sesame oil. And on the last plate, there was boiled pork.
After that, he sat down across from his father, who didn't look up at the paper. He just kept on reading, as usual.
His mother returned to her spot by the counter, still slicing vegetables. Carrots. Zucchini. Probably for the stew she'd be cooking for the night.
No one talked among the three of them. He wanted to initiate a conversation, but he was also scared.
Seunghoon picked up his spoon and took a bite. The rice was soft. The meat was tender. The anchovies had just the right crunch.
It was good.
However, while eating, he can't seem to enjoy the food that much.
Slowly, he glanced up and watched his mother and father. He just observed them from a distance. Neither of them spoke.
He knew they weren't being cold—just distant.
It hadn't always been like this.
Back then… they used to be close.
His mother used to hum songs while cooking, always calling him over to taste the food that she was cooking. His father, though quiet, would ask him about his school day while they ate dinner.
They also went on short weekend trips every few weeks, nothing grand, sometimes just drives out of the city, a stop by the beach or a park.
And even when Seunghoon first got into gaming, his parents didn't scold him. Instead, they were supportive, in their own way.
His mother would knock on his door with fruit or a drink, quietly reminding him to stretch after sitting for so long.
His father once watched him while he played, often asking questions like, "What does that hero do?" or "Is that one your teammate?"
They even told him, "It's fine to have hobbies, Seunghoon. Do whatever makes you happy. Just know your limits. Study first. Then the rest is yours."
But… that wasn't what happened.
A few days before his 2nd year of high school enrollment, during a quiet family dinner, everything shattered.
He remembered it so vividly.
The smell of doenjang stew on the table. How his mother laughed at something trivial she'd seen online. How his father read off the tuition requirements from the school's newsletter.
And then… he said it.
"I'm not enrolling. I'm going to pursue being a pro."
At first, they thought it was a joke.
His mother blinked, her smile fading.
His father froze mid-chew.
Then came the questions.
Why?
What happened?
Are your grades not good enough?
Are you sick?
He answered no.
Just that he was passionate about gaming. That he wanted to take it seriously. That he could go far.
But he had nothing.
They tried to talk him out of it.
His father, especially.
He even said, "You can keep playing. But finish school. Just graduate. That's all we ask."
His mother had pleaded gently, "Let's find a compromise. You don't have to give up gaming. Just don't give up everything else."
But Seunghoon had been too far gone.
Too full of pride. Too sure that passion alone would carry him.
So he dropped out.
He cut ties with his old classmates.
Fell out of contact with teachers who used to believe in him.
And sat alone in his room for days, grinding matches that led nowhere.
And since then?
His parents became like this.
No yelling.
No punishment.
Just… distance.
And he knew.
He knew it was his fault.
It's been nine months since that night.
And this quiet lunch, where no one said a word, was their new normal.
Seunghoon looked back down at his bowl, the food was already half-eaten.
The silence was still there, sitting between them like a wall.
And he couldn't help but wonder…
Just how long will this continue?
What can he do to fix these broken ties?
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A/N: Lol. I was writing this chapter while watching LEC. Do you guys also watch LEC?