[Earth]
Inside a luxurious building, the room was silent—so silent that even the smallest sound felt thunderous.
Hundreds watched from velvet seats, breath held, eyes sharp. Cameras hovered overhead, broadcasting the match to millions around the globe. The walls were clean steel, the lighting clinical and bright. Everything gleamed with perfection—modern, cold, focused.
At the centre sat two boys.
Opposites in every way.
On the left sat a handsome young man with poised composure. His sharp black eyes, high cheekbones, and dignified posture bore the proud lineage of East Asia's finest prodigies. Every movement he made was clean, precise. He wore a perfectly ironed suit and the icy calm of someone raised for this moment. He was a national hero, already a famous name in his homeland.
Across from him, slouched in his chair, sat a boy who didn't seem to belong here at all.
Messy black hair, half-lidded eyes, a posture that practically dripped laziness. His jacket was two sizes too big, but somehow he looked attractive and his smirk… that lazy, arrogant smirk… hadn't left his face since the match began.
He looked like he was here by mistake.
He was not.
He was the one playing as one of the participants for his country he climbed to the top of the table and now here he is one step away from his title...
The clock ticked. Only ten minutes remained.
The handsome boy narrowed his eyes. His opponent had given away his knight three moves ago—deliberately. It made no sense. Unless…
His hand hovered over a piece. He hesitated.
That was when it clicked.
Too late.
Click.
The average-looking boy leaned forward, and with a single move—bishop to G7—the board cracked open. It wasn't flashy. It wasn't dramatic. It was clinical.
Check.
Then another move.
Check.
Two more.
Checkmate.
A hush fell over the hall.
The Chinese prodigy's hand trembled. His eyes scanned the board, disbelief blooming into horror.
He had been dismantled. Not by force, but by something worse: indifference.
The announcer's voice rang out, barely able to contain his shock.
"A stunning upset—SHIN wins! Shin is the new World Grandmaster!"
Gasps echoed. The cameras flashed. Reporters scrambled for words..
Shin just stood up slowly, stretching as he'd just woken from a nap. He gave the prodigy a half-nod—lazy, almost mocking—and then turned to the crowd.
Still undefeated.
He was an unknown prodigy in chess and many don't even know him, he will become the talk of everyone in the world.
---
The cheers had faded.
The lights, the cameras, the applause—gone.
People were still celebrating his victory. His face was trending, his name etched in headlines.
But Shin was already gone.
He wandered the rainy city streets alone, dressed in a long, worn coat, an expensive bottle of wine swinging loosely from one hand. His hair was damp from the drizzle. Neon lights reflected off puddles in a thousand broken colours. The city was alive, but he was drifting through it like a ghost.
He tilted the bottle back, took a long swig, wiped his mouth, and glanced at his phone.
Hundreds of unread messages.
Famous names. Sponsors. Streamers. His university's faculty. International grandmasters. Even his step-father.
He skipped them all.
But then—he stopped.
A message from a classmate. She was the kind of girl who seemed to carry sunshine with her wherever she went. Her laughter was bright and effortless, the kind that made people turn their heads and smile without realising it. Quick-witted and sharp, she always had the perfect reply ready, her intelligence shining through her playful charm. There was an easy confidence in the way she moved—graceful, lively, and just a little teasing—that made her beauty impossible to ignore. To him, she wasn't just pretty; she was captivating, the sort of girl who could fill his thoughts without even trying, simply by being herself.
"Congratulations, Shin. I always knew you'd win."
He stared at it.
She was also a participant but was defeated in the semi-finals.
Paused.
Then he typed a short reply.
"Thanks. Hope you're doing well."
He took another sip. The screen blinked. A new message.
"Can I tell you something?"
He raised an eyebrow.
"Sure."
The reply came almost instantly.
"I love you."
He didn't blink. His thumb hovered for a second, then tapped.
"Do you know what love actually is?"
Another reply. Fast.
"Yes. I know. And I love you."
He stopped walking.
His smirk returned—not of affection, but of something else. Something darker. Wry. Cold.
He recalled that she had dated several guys before, including one during high school. One of them—his friend—had once confessed that she used those same words to manipulate him into doing her bidding. To her, they were nothing more than a bargaining tool.
He typed again.
"Do you see me when you close your eyes? Do you feel my breath in your sleep? Would you still love me if I tore out your heart just to see if it beats for me?"
He looked up at the sky, at the cold stars blurred by city lights. His mind is processing something difficult to solve for him.
Then said aloud, as if asking the universe:
"What is love, really?"
The wind didn't answer.
Only the sound of tyres on wet pavement.
He didn't know true love existed, when he was 6 his mother had already abandoned his father and him for someone else who was more wealthy, then he lived alone since high school after his biological father also abandoned him saying he was already capable of living on his own.
But he didn't break he was mostly cheerful in front of his few friends and lived very well.
In short his life was going good.
But he never got someone to love and never understood what love is because he wasn't the recipient of it in the first place.
Now after seeing the world around him and knowing people, he immediately understood the meaning of the messages earlier.
Lost in his own thoughts he didn't paid attention to the road.
Then...
A sudden screech.
Headlights.
A blinding flash.
The sound of shattering glass, twisting metal fierce pain in his whole body—
Then, silence.
The wine bottle rolled across the street, red staining the pavement with blood.
And Shin's phone screen blinked in the dark.
One new message:
"You're seriously messed up!!"
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