Chapter Text
Sanghyeok is used to changes. The long years of his career had taught him how a roster change is a common thing—even when the team successfully managed to form their chemistry. This time, however, the loss that his team experienced hit them harder than they expected .
Choi Wojee was the last piece of puzzle that completed them, a newfound family that soon dominated the entire rift, leaving their enemy crumble one by one. With each victory,also came loss, hardships, that strengthened their bonds as they faced them all together. 3 long years—it is indeed a long time for a roster to stay together. For some, it strengthened their sense of belonging and comfort, increasing their chance of success. For the other, it could be suffocating, leaving no space for growth.
Sanghyeok had always known that, sooner or later, it would all come to an end. What he hadn’t known, was the feeling of emptiness it left. He hadn’t just lost Wojee as a teammate, a reliable top-laner, but he just lost a family… someone he had always looked after, like a little brother. And he knew, as a good big brother, he had to let him go.
The announcement was really quick, too sudden, even. Choi Hyeonjoon, or better known as Doran, was to be their new top laner for 2025.
Aah.. it’s him. Jeong Jihoon’s longest-running ex-teammate.
That’s the first thing that came into Sanghyeok’s mind.
Of course, he had times when he invested his time analyzing the said toplaner in the past. He was indeed the impermeable wall of Gen G, The wall that T1 needed to tear down to reach their playmaker, Jeong Jihoon—Chovy. Their shining star—the genius midlaner who had always taken Sanghyeok aback with his intriguing plays. Every movement he made was almost like an open invitation to an endless mindgames. And Doran was always there to protect him, fulfilling his role.
While Wooje’s playstyle was like a force of nature—explosive, constantly threatening to unleash a thunderstorm ready to hit everyone, Sanghyeok imagined Doran’s playstyle as a calm ocean, surrounding his teammates with his presence, barely noticeable. But when someone tried to reach his teammate, the ocean would unleash unpredictable turbulence— causing the enemy to falter. That’s what Gen G did to T1, to Sanghyeok, in the past few seasons in LCK.
Doran— Choi Hyeonjoon is a piece of puzzle that is still to be determined, whether it will fit, or conflict with parts that have already been put together.
The first time Sanghyeok saw Choi Hyeonjoon in T1 HQ, he immediately thought that the toplaner was a little timid. He clearly looked too thrilled, as though he had never played for major teams before, even his data and statistics contradict it. It made Sanghyeok wondered how it’s like on the other big teams, or what he had been through, to be that surprised to see himself ended up in T1.
“Hello, Faker-nim! I am really looking forward to work with you!”
He bowed a little too deeply, speaking in an awkwardly formal way that made Sanghyeok felt like he’s Choi Hyeonjoon’s boss in a 9-5 workplace.
Ah. He must’ve been too nervous…
After their greeting, the staff immediately guided the toplaner to T1’s dorm, then the streaming room. He’s scheduled for a short introduction livestream, greeting T1’s massive fanbase. Sanghyeok said nothing but wished him luck. Dealing with fans and expectations can be hard, he thought.
It’s night time already. The T1 HQ practice room is now dark since Sanghyeok, the only person in the room, was so immersed in his practice that he forgot to turn on the light. Hyeonjoon is already in the streaming room, while Minhyeong is out to get a new haircut. He stretched up for abit, while glancing at his phone, then something popped out of his mind:
His stream is about to start, huh?
Sanghyeok contemplated for abit, but his curiosity finally got him. He reached his phone, opened the search bar, and typed in T1 Doran’s livestream. He needed to know him well to get along well, afterall.
It didn’t take long to find his stream. Choi Hyeonjoon was already live—his camera capturing the soft glow of his new setup, previously occupied by Wojee. He’s already wearing T1’s outfit. The toplaner looked giddy, looking around the setup, almost like a child discovering a new toy store.
“Ahh.. you don’t have to thank me.” he said, when a donation balloon appeared, thanking him for signing contract with T1. ”Look, I’m not that big of a deal, besides…” he seemed hesitated for a bit, then he continued with a small smile tugging on his face “playing for T1 is like a dream come true to me.”
He looked genuinely happy.
Sanghyeok settled in, watching the stream silently. Choi Hyeonjoon’s talking to his chat, trying to keep up with the rapid pace of it. The number of viewers kept increasing, indicating curiosity of the fans about the new top laner they’re about to support. The chat kept saying that Choi Hyeonjoon looked adorable, and Sanghyeok could see why.
It’s a little bit refreshing to watch.
T1 fans were surprisingly welcoming and kind to him. Donations appeared nonstop, while he tried his best to keep up the interactions. Good for him.
But why is he acting like a rookie? He is clearly leaning more as veteran player. Evenmore— he is the top 3 top laner in the entire LCK. His name’s on 4 LCK Trophies. Isn’t he supposed to be…. more confident? assertive?
Maybe he needed some time to adjust. Every player’s different afterall, that’s what Sanghyeok thought.
Three Weeks had passed, but Choi Hyeonjoon still appeared to be too cautious around everyone in T1, especially around Sanghyeok and Hyeonjoon. Though still uneasy, he was a little more at ease with Minhyeong. Their past experience of being in the same team in KeG 2018 for a brief time seemed to help them get together. Sanghyeok secretly wished Minseok was there to help the new top laner to settle down in the team comfortably. They seemed to be close during their times in DRX— alongside Jeong Jihoon.
Sanghyeok already knew that usually, a player tend to be more polite and composed when he’s in a new environment .What Sanghyeok didn’t expect from Choi Hyeonjoon was how genuinely anxious and self-conscious he looked around the dorm. It’s almost as if he thought he would be thrown from the team if he made a single mistake. He was polite and responsive to all requests of activities to break the ice, but at the same time it felt as if he had created a wall around him to protect himself.
The way he acted was so different from how Sanghyeok vaguely remembered him when he was still in the same team with Jeong Jihoon.
There were times in their past matches when Sanghyeok thought that Choi Hyeonjoon—Doran was a cheeky and confident player. Especially that time when he decided to do a celebratory dance right in front of Sanghyeok and the whole T1 players, after T1’s frustrating loss against Gen G. His whole teammates—including Jeong Jihoon— cheered for him, like he was carrying the team’s urge to provoke T1. Sanghyeok remembered Minhyeong just stood there, smiling at Doran, while silently plotting his revenge on the toplaner. To Sanghyeok, however, it was just another silly thing easily forgotten. Now all those forgotten memories resurfaced, as he tried to gather what he knew about Choi Hyeonjoon.
He is not Jeong Jihoon—Sanghyeok is well aware of that. But Sanghyeok remembered how assertive and snarky Choi Hyeonjoon was when he was with the star-midlaner.
Did something happen? Did the pressure of being in T1 get him?
Sanghyeok took a deep breath. He needed information. Minseok was again—the first person that came into his mind. His reputation as LCK social butterfly was unmatched, as he had friends in every LCK team, always keeping up with the latest LCK rumors. But now the said support is in short military service. He barely had time to touch his phone, let alone keeping up with the latest gossips.
That day, the dorm was unusually quiet due to lack of schedule for the week. Both Hyeonjoons were out, leaving only Sanghyeok and Minhyeong in the dorm. Minhyeong had always been one of Sanghyeok’s go-to people to discuss team matters, aside from Jeonggyun. Despite him being 6 years younger than Sanghyeok, he had a wise mind far beyond his age. They both sat down at the couch, as Sanghyeok started to share his concerns regarding their current top laner.
Minhyeong sighed, leaning back in the couch,
”Yeah… I figured you’d notice as well, hyung.”
His hands rubbing his temple. Seems like Minhyeong also had the same concern as Sanghyeok afterall.
“So it’s not just me…” Sanghyeok sighed
Minhyeong simply nodded as his confirmation. They both stared at the wall for a while, as if the problem were right in front of them
“Hyeonjoon-hyung has been struggling for a while now… If my guess is right, the trigger might be the Worlds 2024 tragedy” , he added.
Sanghyeok frowned. “Tragedy? What happened at Worlds?”
Sanghyeok tried to remember but the effort was futile. He knew HLE lost to BLG in quarterfinal, but he was too focused on his own team, he didn't have time to watch other teams’ games closely. Even Though HLE was the first seed of LCK, Sanghyeok’s mind had always been on GenG—on Jeong Jihoon.
Minhyeong hesitated, he then sighed as he started to explain. “It was during the HLE vs. BLG match. He was up against Bin, and… it didn’t go well. Not at all.”
Sanghyeok couldn’t remember Choi Hyeonjoon’s individual performance at the time, but now, he vaguely remembered the aftermath, the community’s reaction.
“Honestly, to call it didn’t go well… I guess it’s an understatement.” Minhyeong continued, his voice quieter now, “It was a total stomp— a massacre. Hyeonjoon-hyung couldn’t do anything against Bin… then I guess the nerve got him.” He sighed as he continued, “He ended up doing quite an amount of embarrassing misplays, and the backlash was…brutal.”
Sanghyeok could already figure out the aftermath. It’s something he’s familiar with, afterall. Years of experience had taught him so. He knew all too well how harsh the esports community could be. How they made the narrative of BLG’s dominance and Choi Hyeonjoon’s failure, dragging his whole team out of Worlds 2024. Now that he think of it, It’s indeed, tragic.
“So he took all the blame for the team’s loss ?” Sangheok confirmed,
“Something like that… .Now his position is even worse because HLE basically confirmed the tragedy by making it look like he’s the only one who got sacked from the team.” Minhyeong seemed to think for abit, then his tone suddenly shifted to a confident tone,
“Yet somehow, he ended up in our team— the best team in the world. It must be fate isn’t it, hyung?” he smirked, “It’s his chance to show his true potential, and also our chance to prove how great T1 is as an organization, as a team.”
“and as a family.” Sanghyeok added, which immediately responded by a dramatic gasp from Minhyeong, followed with a soft chuckle . “Hyung! why are you like this right now? I want to hug you now, but wouldn’t it be better to do it as a team hug?”
Both of them laughed. Sanghyeok couldn’t help but felt admiration towards Minhyeong’s sharp intuition and iron-strength mentality. There is a reason why he’s often called as ‘Unkillable Demon Prince’
At the back of his mind, he somehow remembered what Choi Hyeonjoon said during his first stream,
“There is no such thing such coincidence.”
The perfect timing that Sanghyeok had been waiting for finally came. That day, Sanghyeok had no scheduled event(which is a rare thing nowadays) until the day after. He was planning to have a private talk with the new toplaner. He wanted to give the younger some reassurance—that he belonged in the team.
Actually, Sanghyeok doesn’t even know why he had this strong drive to make Choi Hyeonjoon feel at ease with the team. He was well aware that players like Choi Hyeonjoon, who had been on many different teams, definitely knew how important it is to adjust himself in a new team, without extra assistance. But if there was something Sanghyeok could proudly brag about from his years of experience,it is his instinct.
His instinct told him that Choi Hyeonjoon is a special player— someone worth his extra effort. So he went looking for him,
“Hyeonjoon-hyung usually stayed really–really late in the practice room. I’m actually quite sad that I lost my duty to manage the lighting, now that we have someone who leaves the practice room even later than me.”
That’s what Minhyeong said about the top laner.
Just when Sanghyeok about to open the practice room door, he heard a quiet sob from inside.
He stood still.
Should I leave? Should I eavesdrop? Should I knock the door? Wait…Wouldn’t it be weird to knock a practice roomi ?
“Hyeonjoon-ssi!” Sanghyeok finally called through the door, his voiced sounded steadier than he expected. “Are you there?”
There was silence for a moment, until Sanghyeok could hear panicked rustles from inside
”Ah…! Yes… Wait for a moment! Sanghyeok-nim?”
Sanghyeok could hear the slightly-nasal voice from inside, he definitely sounded panicked. Sanghyeok almost regret his choice. He should’ve left the moment he heard that sob, what he did is definitely invasive—-
“Sanghyeok-nim… you can go in. It’s okay.”
He sounded calmer now. Sanghyeok decided step inside—- there, he saw Choi Hyeonjoon sitting on the chair, rubbing his eyes. His eyes were red, and his cheeks were blotchy, the kind of flush that lingered after crying.
He obviously cried earlier
Despite his curiosity, Sanghyeok decided to drop the topic to avoid uneasy feeling from the specific question.
“Hyeonjoon-ssi? Are you okay?”
“Yes… yes. I’m okay. I’m just a little bit tired.” Hyeonjoon muttered, his voice soft, almost apologetic. He adjusted his glasses with one hand, but his eyes stayed fixed on the floor.
“How long have you been here? Don’t tell me you’ve been here the whole day.” Sanghyeok asked again, now he’s genuinely worried.
“I’m not sure… I started after breakfast. But I took a few breaks in between.” He explained cautiously, as if he’s afraid of being scolded.
Without a word, Sanghyeok dragged the nearest chair beside him and sat down. The legs of the chair scraped lightly against the floor, a sound that made Choi Hyeonjoon flinch slightly. Sanghyeok sat there in silence for a while, eyes staring at Choi Hyeonjoon, and as if he felt the stare, the top laner shifted his gaze, only to get startled as his eyes immediately met Sanghyeok’s. Sanghyeok couldn’t help but smiled at the antics.
It felt like trying to tame a wild squirrel..
”Hyeonjoon-ssi, may I address you casually?”
“Yes. You can even curse at me.” the younger top laner replied almost immediatey.
“Uh?”
That definitely caught Sanghyeok off-guard
The room went silent for a while, before Sanghyeok’s laughter broke it and filled the room. Choi Hyeonjoon—- Hyeonjoon seemed to be startled by it at first, but he let out a soft chuckle in the end.
“Hyeonjoon-ah, you can also call me casually. No need to adress me like your boss.” Sanghyeok said, his smile still tugging on his face.
“Okay….” Hyeonjoon seemed to hesitate for a bit, “…hyung.”
Sanghyeok nodded at the younger as his approval,
“Hyeonjoon-ah, you don’t have to feel guilty for having extra practice. I used to do the same thing when I was younger.” He smiled gently at the toplaner, as he continued, “But I am curious..”
“.. why do you even practice this much in off-season? I recall our nearest match schedule is the redbull event, which is a fun match.”
Hyeonjoon’s lips parted as if he was about to talk, but then he immediately closed it again. He shifted his gaze toward the monitor.
Sanghyeok knew the younger was trying to gather words, so he patiently waited.
After a while, Hyeonjoon exhaled the breath he’d been holding, his hands gripping the edge of the desk as if he was trying to brace himself to what he was about to say.
“Actually… it’s not about preparing for a match” Hyeonjoon admitted after a long pause, his voice now sounds almost like a whisper. “It’s about….me.I feel like I’m always falling behind. If I stop practicing, I might even fall further behind.”
The explanation was brief, but to Sanghyeok, it was enough to confirm every speculation both him and Minhyeong had during their earlier discussion. Sanghyeok felt something stirring inside him,
no player in T1 deserved to feel this way.
Sanghyeok’s hand instinctively moved, resting lightly on Hyeonjoon’s arm. The younger froze, his wide eyes staring at Sanghyeok’s hand.
Just when Sanghyeok was about to talk, Hyeonjoon immediately interrupted him, He took a breath, and this time his voice with firmer tone,
“I want to be the top laner… worthy of standing beside you.” he said, shifting his gaze to look straight at Sanghyeok’s eyes
Me?
“Me?”
Sanghyeok unconsciously responded, he was startled by the sudden shift in Hyeonjoon’s tone.
“Yes, You. Sanghyeok-hyung.”
The confession hung in the air. Sanghyeok stayed silent as he tried to process what he just heard, he leaned back back slightly, watching as Hyeonjoon’s fingers stilled against his knees.
“ Before this, I wouldn’t even dare to wish to play in the same team with you. “ Hyeonjoon continued, his voice softening, as though it pained him to admit it,
“I don’t know what fate is planning for giving me this chance… to be here, on this team, with you.” His gaze faltered briefly, but he steadied himself, lifting his eyes back to meet Sanghyeok’s. “But one thing I know is that I wouldn’t miss a second if it means I get to be a better top laner for this team.”
He hesitated for a moment, as he continued, his voice softer, barely above a whisper,
“For you.”
The room went silent for a moment,
From his years of being at the top in the rift, having a fanboy, whether it’s a player or not—inside or outside of LCK, wanting to be in the same team with him isn’t rare. Sanghyeok is used to it. But there is something genuine and vulnerable in the way Hyeonjoon conveyed it. For the first time in a while, Sanghyeok didn’t know what to say, or how to respond to the sudden confession.
“Ah! I’m sorry ! I’m being weird right now, am I?” Hyeonjoon blurted, breaking the silence. He clearly looked flustered, as if he just realized what he just said.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into me nowadays…” he scratched his head, as he started yapping, “What I meant is that I don’t want to be a burden for the team. I know I’m just a placeholder, but you know… my recent results are not that great, I am really ashamed that I got to join my dream team in my worst form, I tried to improve and fix my problem, but I ended up—“
“—Hyeonjoon-ah.” Sanghyeok interrupted, his voice firm but he couldn’t hide his smile as he tried biting back his laugh
The younger immediately stopped, as stared back at Sanghyeok. His expression still wary, with hint of curiosity.
Sanghyeok cleared his throat, trying to stop himself from laughing, as he began speaking, “Hyeonjoon-ah… I am really, really honored to be able to motivate you this far. Even though I basically did nothing.” Sanghyeok could see Hyeonjoon’s tensed back got slightly relaxed, as if he’d been holding his breath.
“But in T1, we don’t bear the burden alone. We share the heavy weight together as a team.”
Sanghyeok put his hand Hyeonjoon’s shoulder, he flinched a little in response,but instantly calmed down as he attempted to comprehend what Sanghyeok had said.
“Hyeonjoon-ah, you belong here, in T1. Not as a placeholder, but because we see you as a great player with immense potential.”
Hyeonjoon seemed to be dumbfounded, he stilled for a moment, but Sanghyeok could see the shift in his expression, his face redden, as his eyes began to glisten. The younger top laner immediately shook his head as an attempt to stop the imminent.
“I see… this is why you all are so great at winning.” he finally said, this time his tone lighter.
“Well, that’s only part of it. We are all really—damn good at our roles.” Sanghyeok smirked, jumping at the opportunity to make the conversation lighter, “T1 is afterall, where the best players belong…” he retracted his hand from Hyeonjoon’s shoulder as he stood from the chair,
“… and Choi Hyeonjoon. You are definitely one of us.”
Sanghyeok offered his hand to Hyeonjoon, he initially meant it as a gesture to help him rise from the chair as well, but the top laner took his hand as a handshake. And now, all of sudden, they found themselves doing an awkward business-styled handshake in the middle of the night. Sanghyeok laughed… internally,of course. He could see a small smile tugging on Hyeonjoon’s face.
It wasn’t visible to normal eyes, but Sanghyeok, as a veteran observer could feel something shifted inside their new top laner. A newly gained confidence. A potential awakening of a buried talent. For a moment, he saw a glimpse of the reliable toplaner that stood beside Jeong Jihoon. The ocean that hugs the whole team.
…And Sanghyeok could feel something shifted in him, as well. Probably satisfaction, or relief.
“Let’s go back, Hyeonjoon-ah. It’s late already.” he offered,
“Ah.. Alright hyung, wait for a moment.”
Hyeonjoon immediately stood up from his chair, he turned around to his desk, then started gathering all of his stuff. As he watched the toplaner preparing to go back with him, Sanghyeok couldn’t help but notice how tall Hyeonjoon actually is, now that he held up his posture confidently.
Hyeonjoon had finally finished packing up, his hand holding his water bottle, while the other’s adjusting his backpack strap.
“I’m done Hyung.. shall we go now?”
“Okay,” Sanghyeok replied simply,
He suddenly felt a little pang in his chest by how natural their interaction had felt, just from a single talk. It’s a good relief.
The hallway was quiet on their way to the exit gate, the only sounds were the sounds of their footsteps echoing off the pristine floor. They walked together in comfortable silence, each drowned in their own thoughts. When they reached the end of the hallway, just a turn toward the exit, Hyeonjoon stopped mid-step. A thought stroke him suddenly,
“Ah…” his voice breaking the silence, Sanghyeok immediately turned around to the top laner in response, “Hyung.. I left the lights on in the practice room. I’ll go turn them off.” his voice tinged with guilt, as he began to turn around the hallway
“You can do it tomorrow. It’s too late now.”
Hyeonjoon shook his head, “No. It’ll bother me if I leave it that way.” he glanced at Sanghyeok over his shoulder with a small smile, “You should go ahead, hyung. I’ll catch up.”
Sanghyeok gave him brief nod of acknowledgement, and… he didn’t know why—perhaps because it’s already late, and he’s tired— but his brain and mouth decided to scheme by themselves, and before realizing it, Sanghyeok began mulling something he didn’t often share,
“You know…” he began
Hyeonjoon stopped, he didn’t turn around, but his silence was enough telling that he is listening, waiting for the continuation,
“I often used the empty practice room—or empty waiting room—to meditate before important matches.” he gazed at the back of the top laner, as he continued, “back when you were in Gen G, I remember sitting alone in the waiting room before our games… trying to clear my mind before facing your team.” Sanghyeok ended it with a lighter tone in his voice, as he reminisced, “That’s how much pressure you have given us back then.”
Hyeonjoon stood still or a moment, as he glanced toward Sanghyeok, his expression softened, “That doesn’t surprise me,hyung” he said, his voice quiet but steady, laced with something deeper,
“Even back then.. you had this way of finding clarity in places no one else thought to look. I noticed.”
Sanghyeok blinked at the response. That caught him off-guard. He didn’t expect that depth of response from someone as shy as Hyeonjoon. For a moment, Sanghyeok wasn’t sure how to respond, but Hyeonjoon didn’t give him a chance to reply,
“Don’t wait for me.I’ll be quick, hyung” he said with another smile, turning around to walk toward the practice room.
For a moment, Sanghyeok just stood there, trying to read the layers beneath Hyeonjoon’s words. But in the end, he brushed it off.
The practice room stayed intact as how Hyeonjoon and Sanghyeok left it, bathed in soft glow of the lights. Hyeonjoon stood still for a moment, his thought lingering around what just happened, feeling the silence. As he released a quiet breath, he spoke words meant for no one, but himself.
“Of course I knew, hyung. I have been watching you for longer than you ever know.” Hyeonjoon said quietly into the room. Almost a whisper.
And of course, no one heard what he just said. A silent confession with the empty practice room as the silent witness. Hyeonjoon reached out the switch as he turned off the light. He gently closed the door, leaving the unheard words sealed away in the quiet emptiness of the dark practice room.
To Be Continued - ★
Next chapter - “The Reunion”