Chapter Text
It’s not all supports. But somehow, it’s always his support.
The enemy bot lane might not be the best—they’re certainly not better than him, but they’re doing just fine. His support, on the other hand, is the problem. As if the game is challenging him to climb with deadweight dragging him down, he always gets the worst support possible.
No wards, no vision control, no poke, no peel, no nothing. Oh, is the enemy support rotating and warding the top objective? Cool. Surely his own support has noticed their absence and is looking for a play, maybe roaming mid, crashing the wave, or at least warding drake if they’re not getting void grubs, right? Right?! Right… no. His support is just wandering around their own jungle like he's on vacation—Is this the first time he sees it? Are you on a tour? He hits the tab. Fourteen wards placed all game, no control wards, no sweeping lens.
A bot. His support is a bot. Absolutely useless!
And sure, he’d love to claim he’s being the bigger person by not flaming the prick in /all chat, begging everyone to report him. But that’s not the reason. The reason is that his account is restricted, and he’s still one match away from regaining chat privileges.
Ugh. He would spam-ping too if he weren’t busy dealing with this cocky enemy ADC who seems to think that just because Min-hyeong’s support is MIA, they can solo kill him. Ha! As if. Unlike his lane partner—and apparently this Miss Fortune—Lee "Gumayusi" Min-hyeong actually knows how to play the role he picked.
Just as he is finishing off the overconfident fool who dared to come play in his lane, his useless support reappears. Grand Entrance and Flash, all to throw a poorly timed Q that nearly steals his kill.
It doesn’t.
Thank god it doesn’t. Because if that Gleaming Quill had stolen his kill, Lee Min-hyeong knows he would’ve rage-quit. Straight up. No report, no surrender, no nothing. He’d have closed the game, uninstalled, and sworn off playing forever—only to reinstall a few days later when no other game gives him the fix that League of Legends ranked solo queue does.
His right eye twitches as his support latches onto his back animation, Xayah and Rakan slowly embracing as he curses under his breath. There’s nothing he hates more than people picking Rakan—not because they’re good at him, but because he picked Xayah first.
This isn’t a cinematic. This isn’t a dating sim. This is ranked solo queue, and he’s losing League Points, goddammit! If you’re not here to win, then don’t come at all.
And apparently, no one on his team came to win, because when the nexus explodes and he checks the scoreboard, no lane did shit, everyone but him got gapped. Great. Maybe it’s time to call it quits, take a break, cool off, touch some grass—but no. The game calls to him like a bad addiction. It’s almost 2 a.m., but he refuses to go to bed on a loss.
He reports his entire team and queues up again. At least this time, he can flame in chat.
The wait is long, thanks to his high elo and the late hour. Finding nine other poor souls haunting the server takes a while. There’s a good chance he’ll get the same players from last game. He prays his support is assigned to someone else—some other poor ADC on the brink of uninstalling.
As his prayer ends, a familiar sound lets him know a match has been found.
He bans Draven, his usual go-to. He’s not in the mood to play him right now, and if he picks Xayah again, he can’t risk leaving her counter open, the only lane bully here, is gonna be him. Min-hyeong has third pick, so she’s a safe option unless his team lets him last pick, but alas, that privilege is never a priority for the ADCarry.
The enemy team locks in an assassin and a tank—Mid and support, he suspects; both pointing toward a Xayah pick. He’s about to hover her when he notices his support pre-picking Rakan. Ugh, not again. He hates when they pick Rakan just because he’s going Xayah. Except—wait. He hasn’t even clicked on her icon yet.
As soon as it's their turn, his support locks in Rakan without hesitation. Min-hyeong blinks. Okay, maybe this is different. As it is his turn too, he locks in Xayah, and takes the time to scroll through his runes, when a message pings in the chat.
Scuttle Crab: Don’t pick her just ’cause I picked Rakan.
Excuse you?! Who does this guy think he is? As if anyone would pick Xayah just because their support locked in Rakan! The audacity. He’s tempted to reply, but it’s late, and this is his first match with chat privileges restored. He can’t risk someone dodging and having to wait another eternity just for a match.
Instead, he takes a deep breath and types something confident yet, if his support has two working brain cells, they'll read between the lines, and see it for what it is: a passive-aggressive, ADC typical response.
Gromp: Prepare for the best Xayah you’ll ever see, sweetheart <3
Fun. A little flirty. Definitely catty. The perfect message, he thinks. And the response is immediate.
Scuttle Crab: Doubt that
Scuttle Crab: At least we’ll match when we lose, I guess.
Min-hyeong is about to break. Who is this guy? Doubting The Gumayusi?! But then he notices both of their skins and, oh, they are matching.
Well, at least they’ll int in style.
The loading screen is short, but he manages to catch their summoner name: Keria. Their icon is a pink mess of a poro, and their mastery points on Rakan are almost half a million. Sheesh. Okay, Rakan main. Maybe he judged them too quickly. But mastery points and skins mean nothing if they can’t actually play. And there’s no time to check their OP.GG; his team is already planning an invade on the enemy red buff.
Whatever, he thinks as he follows his team into the enemy jungle. It can’t be worse than the last Rakan.
And man, this Rakan… they’re definitely not worse than the last one, that’s for sure.
They keep the enemy bot lane at bay; Vayne can’t get close to the wave without getting punished, and her support is struggling just as much. Every time Tahm Kench tries to catch Rakan, they slip away like they’re untouchable. Their timing is incredible—going in and out without wasting a single ability. They’re… they’re amazing.
It hurts Min-hyeong to admit it, but this Rakan is flawless.
Their wave control is perfect, and somehow, they always know exactly what he wants to do, even before he pings it. He’s had bossy supports before, and he’s never been great at listening to them. But this? This is different. He’s not being bossed around or left to take all the responsibility in lane.
They’re playing in sync, perfectly in sync.
Keria (Rakan) in on their way.
[Team] Keria (Rakan): BRB. Don't die.
Okay, maybe they’re a bit bossy.
But Min-hyeong surprisingly doesn’t mind. If you’re going to play like this—get him three kills in under ten minutes, force the enemy to play under tower praying for another, more successful gank, leave him well-fed—then yes, you get to boss even Lee Gumayusi Min-hyeong around. No problem.
He would have replied something snarky but the enemy bot lane makes their reappearance, right next to their wave of minions, so a quick OK emote and a virtual fist bump will have to do.
He makes sure to play safe, just as his support asked,farming while the enemy hesitates to push without vision on Rakan. Then, a series of pings from top lane breaks the silence. Keria is calling for a bait. Their jungler is near, and the enemy top laner is overextending. If they can secure the kill, the void grubs are theirs.
Min-hyeong doesn’t see the whole fight, but he sees the results: Renekton down, free plate for Jax, and his support and jungler securing the void grubs, with their mid-laner crashing the wave under the enemy tower. If the enemy wants to contest this objective, they’ll have to sacrifice some much needed experience.
God, what a read. That gank was so well-timed he can’t help but praise it.
Min-hyeong has played with many supports. Some are good—they do what they need to, place a few wards, throw him some shields here and there, maybe land a decent ult. Most are bad—leeches in lane with no agency, throwing out shields and heals at random, or worse, abandoning lane entirely to roam without purpose, getting themselves or their teammates killed over something as insignificant as a control ward.
But this Rakan? This Rakan is something else.
As they come back to lane, Rakan executes a flawless engage: a well-placed shield to close the gap, a Grand Entrance and Flash to catch Vayne, and an ultimate to charm Tahm Kench before he can save his ADC. It’s clinical. Min-hyeong can only watch in awe as the enemy bot lane crumbles under their precision. Yeah, definitely something else.
They must be smurfing, he thinks as he takes the tower plate. Rakan waits for him in the bush, already starting the back animation.
Min-hyeong latches on to them, Xayah and Rakan embrace, lovingly looking into each other's eyes as they go back to base. It’s actually a pretty cute animation, one he’s never paid much attention to before. Huh. A part of him wishes he could’ve seen it without the bush interfering.
[Team] Gumayusi (Xayah): Good job.
He writes into the chat. He's not that good at using it for anything other than… telling his truth, yeah, let’s call it that, but he hopes it doesn't sound as dry as it looks.
[Team] Keria (Rakan): Saved your ass and gave ya your 4th kill
[Team] Keria (Rakan): And that's all you gotta say? WOW
Okay. Forget what he said. This support isn’t bossy; they’re just a bitch.
Min-hyeong rarely praises his supports, so how dare this tool spit back at him? He’s so close to snapping, risking another chat restriction, but as Xayah and Rakan share a brief dialogue in-game, their voices soft and teasing, he realizes a simple “Good job” might not have been enough—and they definitely don't deserve to be flamed.
[Team] Gumayusi (Xayah): K, you right
[Team] Gumayusi (Xayah): You’re amazing
He types, while both of their champions spam the dance emote under the tower, waiting for the enemy botlane to push, as they are expecting a gank to force the dragon.
[Team] Keria (Rakan): You are not so bad, I guess.
Ah. Definitely bitchy.
But if any support deserves to treat him like this, it might be this Keria-guy. So Min-hyeong lets it slide, enjoying the chaos spamming this duo of lovebirds’ dance creates.
Before he realizes it, he’s actually having fun. The game is practically won, the enemy team stubbornly holding on despite their inevitable loss. Keria has been everywhere, slipping in and out of fights, impossible to kill. They’ve ganked top more than both junglers combined—a fact this Renekton clearly hasn’t taken well, judging by the chat log.
Min-hyeong hasn’t paid much attention to it, but he’s noticed the stream of salty messages from Renekton in the chat. He knows the type. He’s played enough top lane to piece together what likely happened without even glancing at that side of the map. The guy probably got caught overextending, pushing too far without proper vision. Maybe his bot lane didn’t ping MIA—unlikely but plausible—or maybe he just let the frustration blind him, and Keria kept punishing him for it, over and over again.
Ah, Min-hyeong thinks smugly, I’m so glad I’m past that stage.
He doesn’t get tunnel visioned after a gank anymore, doesn’t lose his mind over a single death. It used to infuriate him—top lane was supposed to be the gentleman’s lane, a sacred 1v1 between giants, a solitary island where the hidden carry could rise from. The true solo in solo queue— Then what the fuck is the jungler doing here?! He’d question.
But those days are long gone.
He’s grown from that. He’s not the kind of player who runs around Summoner’s Rift like a blind horse, chasing after one person who wronged him just for playing the game. No, he’s better than that now. He’s an ADCarry —clearly the least selfish of all positions.
[ALL] Chazer14 (Renekton): Can't do it without your little boyfriend, huh?
The message pops up on screen just after the enemy Renekton gets taken down yet again by the deadly duo that is Min-hyeong’s lane partner and their Jax. Any other day, he might have let it slide, but something makes him want to respond.
Maybe it’s because he misses the banter, the back-and-forth in /all chat—it’s been weeks since he’s been able to grace the match chat with his constructive criticism. Or maybe it’s the fact that the perfect Xayah/Rakan joke was right there, and this guy didn’t even use it. He would’ve gone with something like, “Oi, Xayah, come get your little boyfriend off my lane!”. Funny, tasteful, the right amount of salt that can pass as a joke and might not get him reported and banned.
But whatever the reason, it doesn’t matter, really. Because it gets him to type.
[ALL] Gumayusi (Xayah): WRONG
[ALL] Gumayusi (Xayah): That's MY boyfriend
Just a funny little barb. Nothing too serious, just having fun with the lore and all that. You know how it is. Harmless role-play.
[ALL] Chazer14 (Renekton): STFU
[ALL] Chazer14 (Renekton): My botlane is trash, you got lucky
[ALL] Chazer14 (Renekton): You ain't shit without your support
[ALL] Chazer14 (Renekton): Boosted
Ok, someone's a sore loser, Min-hyeong thinks to himself as his team moves to drake. He would've type something but they are securing the area, his Rakan letting him last hit the enemy wards they find around the dragon's pit.
Plus, before he gets a chance, his support is already defending him.
[ALL] Keria (Rakan): DON'T TALK TO MY WIFE LIKE THAT!
Min-hyeong doesn’t have time to unpack why being called “wife” by his support makes him feel… something, because a ward appears in the pit, right on the edge of the wall, and an aggressive Teleport channels behind the drake.
Ah, sore loser indeed.
Renekton pops up next to the ward, still with the bonus movement speed that this minute on the clock grants, but he doesn't try to take their Lee sin, or steal the dragon, or take down any high priority target such as Min-hyeong himself. No. He ignores the teamfight entirely, charging straight towards the support. Burning Slice, Dice, and Flash to reach Keria. Dominus activated as a last resource to stay alive just enough to get his support's head.
Rakan goes down.
A second before Min-hyeong can kill this giant lizard with his Bladecaller. The chat erupts, the enemy mid-laner calling for a report on Renekton. And Min-hyeong hopes they do, hopes he gets punished, yes. But he cares more about avenging his support right now.
He doesn’t get to see Summoner’s Rift in color ever again—not as long as Lee Min-hyeong is in the same match against him. For the next five minutes, Min-hyeong makes it his sole mission to shadow this Renekton across the map. Minor objectives be damned, he’s decided: until the enemy surrenders or Renekton goes AFK, he's gonna be this toplaner’s worst nightmare.
He makes sure of it.
The enemy nexus explodes after their surrender, Xayah and Rakan still mid-dance on the enemy base as the victory animation takes over the screen.
Min-hyeong hadn’t had this much fun in a late-night ranked game in what feels like ages. He wants to say something, but he’s never praised a support before—not in chat, and definitely not in the post-match lobby. Still, he votes for his Rakan, giving them the high honor of skipping the mindless GG <3 and instead selecting the all-too-rare Great Shotcalling.
He starts typing, thinking of what he could say—something better than just another Good job, like last time. But before he can finish, before he can even piece together a coherent sentence, Keria leaves the lobby. Off to the next match.
Too late, he thinks, sighing.
He could send an invitation. Maybe even befriend them. But… isn’t that weird? He’s not sure—he hasn’t met many people through the game, just his friends in real life. Hmm. Clicking on Keria’s profile, he takes a closer look. The pink mess of their icon turns out to be a Star Guardian Poro, with Prestige Battle Academia Lux as their background. Their top mastery champions? Lux, Thresh, and Bard.
Woah, he thinks, Rakan’s not even in their top three. Min-hyeong hadn’t even seen them play their main, and he’d been blown away.
What would happen if he invited them for another match? And what if he didn’t? If he left it like this, he might never get to play with this incredible, amazing, flawless support again. Sure, he might see them on the enemy team someday, forced to play against them while silently comparing every support he gets to Keria.
But wouldn’t it be awkward if he did send an invite and they didn’t accept? Or if they’d already started another match? Tsk. It would’ve been easier if they’d just been average, because 3 a.m. Lee Min-hyeong is apparently a doomer. Just as he’s about to close the game, resigned to never seeing this Rakan again, the game pings.
A friend request. Keria #KR1 has sent him a friend request.
Min-hyeong tells himself to play it cool—not accept it immediately, maybe let it sit for a minute or two. But apparently, 3 a.m. Lee Min-hyeong is just as pathetic as he is a doomer, because before he can even think about it, he’s already clicked Accept.
Keria’s name now sits on his General list of friends, glowing green against a sea of greyed-out names.
Uhm. Ok. Yeah. They’re definitely there. Connected. Waiting for one more player. He can do this. Right? Sure! Should he just invite himself in…? The group is open, after all—he could. Or maybe he should send a message first, something casual. A ‘hey’ or ‘mind if I join?’ before barging into a stranger’s solo queue.
Before he can decide, a message pings in the client. White text against dark grey, sitting just below Keria’s name.
Keria #KR1: You coming or what?
Shit. What should he say? His mind scrambles as he clicks to join the group, his heart racing for no reason at all. They wouldn’t have added me if they hated me, right? He’s not sure. The message sounds cold, but maybe that’s just how Keria is. What has worked so far?
Oh. Right.
Gumayusi #KR1: Eager much?
Gumayusi #KR1: Told ya I was the best Xayah you’d ever see.
There. Fun. A little flirty. Definitely catty. Perfect...Right? Yes! Of course it is! Why is he doubting himself? Ha ha. It's not like it matters. Not like he cares. Not at all!
Keria #KR1: Eh. The average is so bad, though.
Keria #KR1: Better than that is not really that impressive.
Well. Fuck you too.
Min-hyeong wants to fire back with something, anything, call them average at best—but he’s already called them amazing. There’s no coming back from that. And honestly? He doesn’t have much to say. This guy is just too good. What could he even criticize? “You could’ve stayed by my side more?” Come on. The guy was everywhere. He can’t complain. No notes, just… perfect.
Keria #KR1: What? Cat’s got your tongue?
Fun. A little flirty. Definitely catty. This support, man... Definitely something else, aren't they?
Gumayusi #KR1: Nah, just waiting for you on voice chat.
Gumayusi #KR1: Need to flame you properly.
He tries to cover his ass, hoping Keria buys it. It’s not like they know he’s kind of nervous, right? Nah. That'd be impossible… Right?
Keria #KR1: Sure.
Keria #KR1: You’re gonna have to keep waiting, “sweetheart.”
Gumayusi #KR1: Why? Ugly voice?
Gumayusi #KR1: Afraid you won’t keep up?
Keria #KR1: As if!
Keria #KR1: It’s 3 a.m., and I’m sick. I’m not about to get my ear blown off by the ADCarry I have to babysit.
Excuse you? Babysit?!
Min-hyeong thinks he can take care of himself just fine, thank you very much. But before he can type a proper retort—maybe even call his support a tool or something—a match is found.
Keria gets first pick, hovering Pyke. Huh. Aggressive. He likes it. He matches him with Draven—he hasn’t gotten to play him all day, and what can he say? He wants to get this support to also call him amazing too. But just as the banning phase starts, his screen shining bright red, a new message pops up.
Keria #KR1: Absolutely not.
Gumayusi #KR1: No Draven?
Keria #KR1: No Draven.
Gumayusi #KR1: Bossy, bossy, bossy.
Keria #KR1: My lane, my rules.
Gumayusi #KR1: OUR lane, sweetheart.
Gumayusi #KR1: I’m your wife, after all. What’s yours is mine, and all that.
It’s 3 a.m. He’s playing League of Legends, roleplaying as a stranger's wife, all while giggling like a little girl. But he doesn’t want to question it—it’s too good. He’s having too much fun.
Pyke gets banned by the enemy team, and in what seems like pure spite, Keria locks in their main: Lux. Well. Isn’t this what Min-hyeong wanted? To see them play their best champion? Wish granted, apparently.
Keria #KR1: I want a divorce.
Gumayusi #KR1: No Draven, no screaming on voice chat, and now a divorce? Can’t have shit in this house.
Keria #KR1: Jeez, so dramatic.
Keria #KR1: Can’t talk, but I can listen to you. Does that work? Just no Draven.
Gumayusi #KR1: Works for me.
Gumayusi #KR1: But you’re missing out, just saying…
As his turn to pick finally arrives, he checks the enemy comp. He could play anything—maybe Jinx, he loves her, and he's really good at her, the best. But then he sees his support with their Prestige Battle Academia Lux background and their icon glowing in the voice chat menu. And a better idea strikes.
“I’m not doing this for you, by the way,” he says, the green ring surrounding his icon confirming his voice is heard. He picks Caitlyn and scrolls until he finds her Battle Academia skin, locking it in before adjusting his runes.
Keria #KR1: Aw, we’re matching!
Keria #KR1: Thank you! <3
“I didn’t do it for you!” he blurts out, trying to keep his tone cool and unbothered. But maybe it’s the hour—almost 3:20 a.m. as he checks—because even he doesn’t believe himself.
Keria #KR1: Sure, sweetheart…
Keria #KR1: At least we’ll int with style.
The game loads. Keria’s one million mastery points flash briefly on the screen before the match starts.
“Whoa, that’s a lot of points. Is Lux, like, your main or something?” he asks, as if he didn’t just stalk their profile ten minutes ago. They wait inside a bush in their jungle, Lux’s laugh echoing beside him as Keria spams her emote. Min-hyeong joins in, Caitlyn dancing next to her.
[Group] Keria #KR1: Kinda.
[Group] Keria #KR1: I love this skin.
The match goes just like the last one.
Keria keeps the bot lane under control. Any attempt at minions is met with hard punishment. Light Binding a constant threat to the enemy ADCarry—one wrong move, one Lux full combo, and it's gray screen. Min-hyeong quips here and there, telling his support to advance or retreat, but it’s mostly unnecessary. Keria shares his same brain cell. Every time he wants to give a command, his support’s already one step ahead.
When the enemy Jhin finally mispositions, his hitbox barely a few pixels outside the safety of his minion wave, Lux strikes. Her combo lands perfectly, and Min-hyeong follows up without hesitation: 90 Caliber Net and Caitlyn’s passive fully charged. Jhin flashes away, too low to survive anything else. His Lux tries and kills a pair of minions with their E, giving him just enough experience to get his level six.
He has his prey locked, right on his crosshair, but the enemy support blocks his Ace in the Hole at the last second, sparing Jhin’s life.
Frustrating, yes, but it's ok, at least they got both of their summoner's spells, Min-hyeong thinks as he pings the support’s Flash and goes back to farming the last few minions in lane. But Keria doesn’t back just yet. They stay just within the experience range, hitting level six a moment later. From the edge of the fog of war, invisible to their opponents, Lux fires her ult—a beam of light cutting through the map. It hits Jhin just before his recall completes, securing the kill.
Oh, that was good, Min-hyeong thinks to himself as he mindlessly whispers “Demacia,” mimicking Lux’s voice line.
He hears it then: a soft giggle over voice chat.
It’s faint, barely audible in the stillness of the night. A distinct sound that doesn’t match anything in the game he loves to hate. Huh. It’s… cute. And—
Wait.
Pink mess of an icon. Main support. Refuses to use voice chat—And a cute laugh?
Is… Is Keria a girl?
Oh, dear lord, he’s playing with a girl! And he was just calling her a bitch. Fuck, he sucks. He’s better than that. His mom raised him better than that! Or wait. No. If anything this proves he’s a feminist. No matter who was behind the screen he would have called them a bitch. Yes, a true equal opportunity flamer, everyone gets it! No matter what, no matter who, or what gender. Yeah… Ally Gumayusi.
Except.
He kinda wants to hear her laugh again.