Chapter Text
"T1 explains decision to bench Gumayusi for Smash in LCK Cup 2025"
"T1 under fire for bringing 'Gumayusi' back after signing rookie 'Smash'"
"Faker answers fans' biggest question — Will Gumayusi return to the starting lineup?"
The LoL Park bustling with pre-match buzz, fans filling up the studio and the T1 team huddling for a quick morale boost in their waiting room.
Minhyung had spent the weekend replaying the conversation with their coaches. Still dressed in his signature team jacket, but today he would not be walking out with the rest of T1.
A wave of frustration rolled over him when he received the news. He was a back-to-back world champion, not a rookie that needed a reset. He had dedicated his passion of being the best ADC in this sports. The best ADC for his monster of a genius support.
His charismatic smile — a bright, almost challenging the sun's greatness — flashed in his face.
He knew that the world expected him to sulk, even rage at the disrespect thrown at him but he always try to look in the brighter side. This is not my battle and I am still here, he thought.
Minhyung forced his mind to slow down. He took a deep breath, the taste of stale energy drink and the confusing sting filled up his taste buds and his heart. Despite the shock of this benching, his internal light remained undimmed.
This wasn't damage control. This was his mindset, laid bare. Despite the news, he still shone brightly and saw the positive things in this world.
"Hi, my precious fans, my lifelong fans. You must've been shocked, thrown off, and sad after hearing the news. I felt the same way when I first heard about it, but this kind of thing can happen to and occur for anyone so as I slowly looked back on my situation, I came to think of it as an opportunity to grow even further. It's a position that I worked hard in and protected for 3 years so although my absence might feel awkward, if you continue to believe in me and wait for me as you have done, I will come back with an even cooler version of myself. Thank you as always."
With a decisive tap, the message was sent, instantly flooding thousands of screen with his resolve. The air around him suddenly felt lighter.
--
The contrast between the dazzling noise of the LoL park and the quiet sanctity of a church on a Sunday morning was immediate and profound.
"We are born twice in this life: once when our bodies enter the world, and again when our souls awaken to their true purpose."
The priest concluded his homily, his voice fading after emphasizing the perseverance in the face of trials.
A gentle, reflective silence washed over him — "Minseokie …" he thought.
Minhyung lowered his head.
He wasn't just working hard to grow his professional career. He was working hard to honor the faith his fans and everyone in his life, had placed in him.
It is the same intense, unshakeable faith that Minseok had put to him since joining T1. The pressure that accompanied the team name was immense but all is bearable as he has the best support in the world.
Back to the dorms, the priest's words lingered longer and deeper.
While scrolling through his Instagram, he had the sudden urge to check his own profile.
He stopped scrolling at the pinned photos of his account. It's him and Minseok embracing each other after winning the finals game.
It was their thing, the immediate hug after finishing a decisive series.
"Three Worlds in a row … Aren't we the best duo in this world, Minseokie?" he said.
Minhyung sighed heavily, leaning his head back against the sofa cushion.
Since the benching issues earlier that year, the air between them has been thinner.
He opened Kakaotalk and scrolled through the chat history with Minseok. A flurry of messages from weeks ago. At this point, he already memorized the memes, VODs, snack run plans, late night conversation about life ... then the silence began. Now, the messages are sparse, functional: scrim schedule, VOD review sessions, and meal times. Almost like automated messaging bot.
Minhyung ran a hand over his face. The benching wasn't just about the game, it cemented an invisible physical barrier that erected between him and his support.
He missed his support. He missed his friend. He misses Minseok.
He missed being the one who could make Minseok’s eyes light up with that dangerous, brilliant spark when they both realized, simultaneously, that they were about to win the lane in a completely reckless, genius way.
--
It has been months since that benching issues. Even though the experiment was only for a few games, the damage has already been done.
The roster shuffle felt like a distant, unpleasant memory, buried underneath a hard triumphant run through the Worlds 2025 Swiss Stage. T1 survived. But the heavy atmosphere between the botlane duo still lingers.
Now, the entire team is preparing to board the flight to Shanghai for the Quarter Finals.
Minhyung stares out the window at the endless expanse of clouds. He can feel Keria beside him, equally still and silent. They haven't spoken more than a few words since boarding.
He remembered the early days, the easy laughter and endless planning sessions of botlane matchups. Minseok showing Minhyung the craziest and absurd item builds with his vast pool of champions but now, they were two islands, close but separated by unspoken and unaddressed issues.
--
The main stage of QuarterFinals is a cauldron of noise and flashing lights. The air boils with tension and excitement. Anyone's Legend and T1 is on a grueling, unexpected 2-2 war.
Minhyung can feel the immense, crushing weight of the world — the pressure of being the defending champions, the early-year doubts, the need to prove that GuKe is the best bot lane duo, and the possibility that this could be the last time playing with Keria — all bearing down on his shoulders.
He hadn't forgotten, not for a second, that this entire Worlds run is desperate push for redemption and ultimately, the final chapter of his current contract.
For him, everything is on the line. Winning this match was the only thing that matters. A loss meant potential non-renewal of his contract and the last match he gets to play with Keria … with Minseok — this exact deciding match.
The moment his screen flashed a victory screen, the relief was instant. The physical weight lifted off of his chest. "Another chance," he said to himself.
He turned immediately to Minseok like it was the most natural response of winning a hard game. He turned, desperate, reaching for Minseok. He needed the familiar weight of hug — their hug, a silent guarantee that they are still one unit.
But Minseok didn't move. Keria didn't even look at him.
Minhyung watched him wear his jacket, turning away from him. He didn't turn to him. He didn't smile. He didn't acknowledge Minhyung.
He watched the crisp, professional way his support zip up his team jacket, and walked past him.
The familiar, life-giving warmth of their victory was replaced by an agonizing cold knife in his heart.
The sheer force of Minhyung's yearning for a single touch, a glimpse, a smile, a knowing look to validate his desperate fight for their past felt like a physical wound.
The team moved quickly out of the stage ushered by the floor managers to their respective post-game interviews.
Every word spoken felt dry and empty. He knew he had to lock his emotions down but the tears were too close and it burns every fiber of his being.
I fought so hard to stay by his side. I played every game perfectly. We won the game.
And the reward is this silence?
Is this end?
Minhyung swallowed the lump in his throat, taking a sharp deep breath. He looked over to Minseok. A desperate look on the person he couldn't bear to lose.
--
The way back to their hotel rooms was filled with banters about their Dr. Mundo pick, in contrast of their carry's inner turmoil. Everything was a bliss.
Minhyung might be patient most of the time. Believing that everything has its own time and all is according to plan but not this time.
He entered Minseok's hotel room. He didn't knock. He doesn't care at this point.
The carry found his support sitting at the desk, methodically reviewing the game earlier while his headphone rests around his neck. Minseok flinched with the sudden door slam.
"What the fuck was that for!" Minseok hissed at him.
"Don't talk about the game. Don't talk about how I could possibly won the mid tower team fight if I didn't use my flash earlier. Don't talk about our matches like it's the only thing we could talk about," he blurted out.
"We played the series well. We just played the most important, stressful, heart-stopping game of our run, and you didn't even look at me!"
"I turned to you. Right after the nexus exploded. I turned to you for a hug, or even a handshake! A smile! Something! It's the only thing that reminds me that all this pain and benching was worth it. And you … you just packed up …"
Minseok stood up. His own composure starting to fracture under the sudden onslaught.
"What are you talking about? I was drained Minhyung-ah. I was thinking about how close we came to losing the series. That's my job! I can't afford to be emotional and lose focus just because you wanted a hug!" he snapped.
"It wasn't just a Quarterfinals win for me, Minseok! It was my life. It was my last chance. Don't you understand? My contract is ending. This could have been my last game with T1, with you!"
Minseok was shocked by the sudden revelation.
"Every single click, every single decision I made was a desperate plea for them to keep me, to keep us together. And I needed you to at least look at me and tell me we did it,"
All the tears Minhyung held back since the start of the year finally spilled over.
"When you didn't look at me, it felt like you were already telling me goodbye. It felt like you were already gone. Please, I am terrified of losing you Minseokie."
Minseok stared at him, dumbfounded by all the emotions Minhyung revealed.
"Minhyungie … I didn't think about the contract. I only thought about the game … I am sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel like that," his voice low, filled with profound regret.
He cut him off with a defeated whisper, "I needed you to break character when I needed you the most but you didn't. It could have been our last game Minseokie … my spot, my legacy, the 'we' might just vanish."
The silence of the room was heavy, both weighted with unsaid resentment.
Minseok closed the distance between them. Gently placing his hands on the other's shoulders. Hesitant at first.
"Listen Minhyungie, that benching period? It was a hard time for me too. Every time I stepped on stage, it felt like I left a part of me in the waiting room."
"The hug? I was a complete idiot. I was too focused on how we could've lost the game instead of being happy that we actually won. But I felt your presence the entire game, that was you fighting for us and I knew it. Our synergy is not built on contracts, Minhyungie. It's built with our shared defeats and victories," he pulled him close. This time into a full, steady embrace they both yearned for.
"You are not going anywhere. I won't let you. We're a package deal, remember? That's not just for media. We promised to stay together and be the best duo in the world."
The warmth of their hug and absolute conviction in Minseok's voice soothed Minhyung and the terror in his heart. This time, he held on tight.
"Now stop crying, big baby. We have to win another trophy this year. And I'll make sure that you will have a new photo to pin on your profile," Minseok said teasingly.
The air was no longer heavy with confrontation but thick with renewed understanding and affection.