Side Story (2) - Chapter 1 (Raxian & Sable Focus)
The city streets were dusted with a light layer of snow, each flake catching the glow of the streetlights as it drifted to the ground. The winter air bit at Raxian's cheeks, his breath puffing out in small clouds of mist, but he barely noticed. He walked with his hands tucked into the pockets of his oversized hoodie, the cold creeping in through the thin fabric despite the thick, fleece-lined interior. A black bomber jacket, worn and slightly scuffed at the edges, was layered over the hoodie, adding an extra layer of warmth without sacrificing his usual style.
Christmas lights decorated the storefronts, casting a festive glow that almost made the cold feel warmer, but Raxian's thoughts were far from cheerful.
He had been walking aimlessly, his sneakers crunching over the thin frost on the pavement. His high-top shoes, dark with subtle metallic accents, held up well against the icy sidewalks, but Raxian wasn't paying much attention to where he was going. His mind kept drifting back to the group chat on his phone, where messages had become increasingly sparse over the past few months. Raze still sent the occasional joke, and Sable would fire back with her usual dry wit, but Milo and Fayne's presence had faded, their avatars replaced by long stretches of silence. The group that had once felt so close-knit now seemed like a distant memory, like snow melting under the sun.
Raxian sighed, shifting his weight as he reached a quiet corner of the street, leaning against a metal railing dusted with snow. He tugged the beanie on his head down a bit, more for warmth than style, but he made sure not to mess up his hair too much. He pulled out his phone, scrolling through their last few exchanges. He lingered on a back-and-forth between him and Sable, her messages sharper than the winter air. Even in text, she had a way of pushing him to be better, always questioning his choices, challenging his strategies. It reminded him of how they used to play side by side—before everything changed.
But lately, their matches had been more about proving something. Sable insisted on their 1v1 practice sessions, claiming it was the best way to measure his progress. And sure, he'd improved—climbing through Diamond II, closer than ever to reaching Diamond I. Sable had even acknowledged it once, a rare compliment that had warmed him more than he'd admit. Yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something.
He shifted against the railing, the cold metal pressing against his back. What was the reason I'm still pushing myself so hard? he thought, the question gnawing at the back of his mind. League used to be everything—a way to make a name for himself, to prove he was more than just another player. He'd dreamed of going pro, of one day standing on the same stage as Ekko, his idol.
But those dreams felt distant now, like faded echoes of a time before he had known the people who had changed him—before Sable.
He chuckled softly, the sound swallowed by the quiet night. The idea of playing League casually, without the weight of expectations, felt strange. Yet he found himself longing for it—for a match where he didn't have to keep his guard up, where he and Sable could just... enjoy the game. The thought made him shake his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Yeah, right. Sable would roast me for even suggesting it.
Still, a part of him couldn't help but wonder what it would be like. To play alongside her, not as rivals, but as teammates again—like when they had formed their team, when she had stepped in at the last moment and brought everything together. She had always had that way about her, like she could see through the fog clouding his mind, clearing a path when he felt lost.
Raxian's gaze drifted to the frost-covered street, his breath steadying. He remembered how he used to be—hotheaded, driven by nothing but ambition and pride. Sable had seen through that too. She'd pushed him, challenged him, and in the process, she'd become more than just a rival. She had become the person he respected most, the one who had picked him up when he was at his lowest.
And yet, despite everything, he felt the distance growing between them. They no longer hung out outside of the game, and their interactions in person were mostly by chance—awkward, brief, as if neither of them knew quite how to bridge the gap.
He scrolled through his phone again, stopping at the last message Sable had sent: You need to work on your positioning, Rax. It's sloppy. He chuckled, shaking his head. She always knows how to keep me in check, he thought, but the smile faded quickly.
He missed having her by his side, not just as an opponent, but as someone who made him better—who made him want to be better. The realization hit him harder than he expected, the weight of it settling in his chest.
Raxian slipped his phone back into his pocket and pulled the hood of his jacket tighter against the wind, feeling the chill seeping into his skin. He still wanted to climb, to reach Diamond I, maybe even beyond. But for the first time in a long while, he wondered if his goals had changed—if maybe, just maybe, what he really wanted was to find a way to keep Sable in his life, not as a rival, but as something more.
And as the winter wind whispered through the empty streets, Raxian made a quiet promise to himself: he would find out what that meant, even if it took him all winter to figure it out.