Leon slowly opened his eyes.
His body felt heavier than usual—not from fatigue, but from something deeper, something buzzing under his skin.
It was six a.m. The air in the room was still, almost sacred. No alarm. No shouting. Just the faint hum of a new day and the softest aroma drifting through the air.
Eggs… cheese… something warm.
He blinked, confused.
It took him a few seconds to register the scent. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
His footsteps were quiet on the wooden floor as he stepped out of his room. The hallway was dim, but the kitchen ahead was glowing with a golden hue.
And there she was.
His mother, in her robe, standing by the stove. A plate was already set on the table—eggs with cheese, a slice of toast, some fruit, and a mug of something steaming.
He stared.
"Mom?" he mumbled. "You're up this early?"
She turned with a soft smile, her eyes already warm.
"It's the day before the big one, my champion… You need a good breakfast."
Leon froze. For a second, he just stood there, taking in the moment. The quiet hum of the fridge. The clink of her placing a fork next to the plate. The sun climbing up the walls, inch by inch.
It hit him then—like a quiet wave.
This life… was different.
Before, he never had this. Not the warmth. Not the smell of breakfast cooked just for him. Not someone waiting in the early hours with a smile and a plate full of care.
He pulled out the chair and sat down slowly.
The food smelled amazing. But his eyes weren't on the plate. They were on her.
"Thanks, Mom… really."
She walked over and placed a hand gently on his shoulder. The kind of touch that lingered. The kind that stayed in your heart long after it was gone.
"Just don't overdo it," she said softly. "Play smart… and try to win. But most importantly, be proud of yourself."
He chuckled quietly, a mix of nerves and fondness in his voice.
"Heh, of course… Promise."
Then, without even thinking, he stood and hugged her. A real hug.
She didn't flinch or ask why. She just held him back.
Leon ate slowly.
Each bite felt like more than food. It was fuel—but not just for his body. For his soul. He could feel something building inside. The clarity of a moment before everything changed.
Tomorrow was the match.
The match that could shape his path.
He wiped his mouth, pushed back the chair, and stood.
Outside, the sound of feet stomping on the pavement echoed. Then a familiar voice rang out:
"Come on, Leon! Don't keep me waiting!"
Byon.
Leon smiled.
He opened the window and leaned out.
"Just one minute!"
He grabbed his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. Then, for one last second, he turned back to his mother and hugged her again.
"Pray for me, Mom…" he said, his voice quieter now, more serious. "This is just the beginning."
She looked at him—her son with the glowing eyes and determined heart—and smiled.
"I'm proud of you… always."
The sky was still waking up. Shades of pink and orange brushed the rooftops as Leon stepped outside.
Byon was pacing back and forth on the sidewalk, bouncing lightly on his heels. His hair was messy, his jacket crooked, and his energy already dialed to ten.
"Finally!" he said. "I was about to climb up and drag you down."
Leon laughed and gave him a playful shove.
They started walking side by side. No need to say where—they both knew.
The academy field was only a few blocks away, but today… it felt like they were heading into battle.
Byon kicked a loose stone as they walked, his voice more serious than usual.
"The match is tomorrow… but today's training is the most important. We have to prove ourselves."
Leon looked straight ahead, his breath fogging up in the cold air. His hands were in his pockets, but his mind was already on the field.
"We'll show them who we are, Byon… one step at a time."
The academy gates loomed ahead, tall and silent in the morning stillness.
Byon adjusted his bag. "I wonder who's already here."