I woke up before my alarm.
The house felt colder than usual.
When I stepped into the living room, Mom was already there, quietly cleaning the table. She didn't look at me. Didn't say good morning. The silence hurt more than if she had yelled.
I opened my mouth anyway. "…Mom."
She paused for half a second, then continued wiping the surface like she hadn't heard anything.
That was how it started.
Yumi tried to talk me out of it every day. Sometimes calmly. Sometimes angrily. Sometimes with tears she tried, and failed, to hide.
"You don't have to be the one," she kept saying. "There are other ways. We'll figure something out."
Harin was worse.
She tugged on my sleeve one night, eyes red, voice shaking. "Oppa… don't go. Please."
I knelt in front of her and told her I'd be fine.
I don't think she believed me.
Maybe none of them did.
Still, I kept training.
Morning runs. Conditioning until my vision blurred. Late nights pushing my body past the point where it begged me to stop. Nothing changed. My muscles burned, my lungs screamed, and my reflection stayed the same.
Average.
But I didn't slow down.
If I stopped now, I wouldn't be able to move forward at all.
-
That morning, I went out early to jog.
The streets were quieter than usual, the sky painted in soft gray and pale orange. Posters about enlistment still lined the walls, some torn, some scribbled over in anger. I focused on my breathing instead.
Step. Step. Step.
"Running this early now?"
A hand patted my back lightly.
I nearly jumped out of my skin.
"Soo-Min-?!" I stumbled, barely catching myself.
She jogged alongside me easily, not even winded, her ponytail swaying gently with each step. She was wearing a simple tracksuit, earbuds hanging loosely around her neck.
"What are you doing?" I asked. "Shouldn't you be at school?"
She smiled. "I could ask you the same thing."
"…Fair."
We ran together in silence for a bit. Or, well, she ran. I ran and tried not to embarrass myself. She clearly slowed her pace for me, matching my rhythm so naturally it almost annoyed me.
Almost.
I kept getting distracted.
The sound of her breathing. The way she glanced over every so often to check if I was keeping up. I nearly tripped twice.
"…You okay?" she asked, amused.
"Y-Yeah," I said quickly. "Just… tired."
She studied me for a moment, then spoke again.
"So," she said casually, "does this mean you're participating?"
My steps faltered.
I looked ahead, then nodded once.
"…Yeah."
She didn't stop running.
"Thought so," she said quietly.
There was no shock in her voice. No disappointment. Just… understanding.
We kept jogging side by side as the city slowly woke up around us, the countdown ticking closer with every step I took.
Soo-Min broke the silence first.
"I'm participating too."
Hyun-Jae glanced at her, not slowing his pace. "…I figured."
She shrugged lightly as they jogged. "My parents can't. And my little brother definitely can't." Her tone was calm, like she was stating an obvious fact. "So it has to be me."
He didn't argue.
That was just the kind of person she was.
"…It's still wrong," Hyun-Jae said after a moment. "The government shouldn't have done this. If they'd warned people earlier, if they'd handled it properly"
"I know," Soo-Min said quietly.
She glanced at him and caught the tension in his expression, the way his jaw was set a little too tightly. Then her lips curved into a teasing smile.
"What?" she asked. "Are you that worried about my safety?"
Hyun-Jae nearly choked on air.
"W-What?! N-No-!" His face heated instantly. "That's not what I meant!"
"So you aren't?"
"I do care just don't make it weird..."
She laughed softly, clearly pleased with the reaction.
They ran a little farther before she spoke again, this time more seriously.
"Do you think we'll survive?"
Hyun-Jae didn't answer right away.
His breathing steadied. His gaze fixed forward.
"We have to," he said. "Or die trying."
Soo-Min glanced at him with a sly smile, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Then… you'll be there to protect me, huh?" she teased, her tone light but pointed.
Hyun-Jae's brain short-circuited.
"W-Why would you say it like that?!" he stammered, flustered beyond recovery.
Soo-Min laughed openly now, slowing to a stop near her street. She waved at him as she backed away.
"Relax," she said. "I'm the one who will be looking after you."
Then she turned and sprinted ahead, far faster than she had been running before.
"Hey-!" Hyun-Jae called after her. "Stop messing with me!"
She didn't slow down, just waved again with a smirk as she continued without looking back as she disappeared down the street.
Hyun-Jae jogged to a stop, hands on his knees, heart racing, for reasons that had nothing to do with running.
"…Seriously," he muttered.
But despite himself, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he continued on his way, the looming fear of what awaited them made just a little lighter, if only for that moment.
--
Dad came home two days later.
The house didn't feel any lighter because of it.
He moved slower than before, his steps more careful, his presence quieter. No one mentioned the tournament directly, but it lingered in every silence, in every glance that lasted a second too long.
No one argued anymore.
And then, the day arrived.
Hyun-Jae packed early in the morning. Not much. Clothes. Basic supplies. Things he wasn't even sure he'd be allowed to keep. He zipped the bag shut and slung it over his shoulder, heart pounding steadily in his chest.
If I don't say goodbye, he told himself, it'll be easier.
He slipped on his shoes and reached for the door.
"Hyun-Jae."
He froze.
They were all there.
His dad stood near the wall, leaning lightly against it. His mom was by the table, hands clenched tightly together. Yumi stood beside her, while Harin was still asleep in her bed.
There was no running now.
Hyun-Jae straightened and took a breath.
His dad spoke first. "Good luck."
Just those two words, but they carried more weight than any speech could have.
Hyun-Jae bowed his head slightly. "…Thanks."
Then his mom stepped forward.
She didn't say anything at first. She just pulled him into a tight hug, her arms trembling as tears soaked into his shirt.
"Be careful," she whispered, voice breaking. "Please… come back to us."
Hyun-Jae swallowed hard and nodded, unable to trust his voice.
Yumi didn't cry like before.
She crossed her arms, looking away, but when she finally met his eyes, her voice was quiet and steady. "You better make it back," she said. "I'm not forgiving you if you don't."
He gave a small, crooked smile. "I will."
His dad stepped forward again and pressed something into Hyun-Jae's hand.
A family photo.
All of them together. Smiling. A moment frozen in time, untouched by Celestials or tournaments or fear.
"Keep it," his dad said. "So you remember what you're fighting for."
Hyun-Jae closed his fingers around it tightly.
"…I will."
He turned before his resolve could waver, shoulders stiff, emotions locked deep in his chest. He stepped outside, the door closing softly behind him.
The bus was already waiting.
Dozens of others stood nearby, some silent, some crying, some trying to look brave. Hyun-Jae boarded without looking back, took a seat by the window, and rested his forehead against the glass.
As the bus pulled away, he exhaled slowly.
Stay calm.
Don't look back.
This wasn't the end.
It was the beginning.