My parents ran a small company together.
At the time, I didn’t fully understand what kind of work they did, but now I know.
They were developing virtual reality interfaces and were involved in several government research projects as well.

It wasn’t a company big enough to hire many employees.
So, when I was a child, my parents were always busy with work.
Both of them were constantly working overtime, and there were times when they had to sleep at the office due to their workload.

It wasn’t that I didn’t receive love, or that they prioritized work over me.
This isn’t that kind of story.
My parents never once neglected me.

Even during their busiest times, they made sure to come home and see me.
Even if it was only for 30 minutes, they would take turns making time to have a meal with me, sacrificing their sleep.
Because I understood that this was my parents' way of showing love, I grew up quite mature for my age.

"Son, your grades dropped quite a bit this time."
"I'm sorry. It’s not that I didn’t study, but it was just difficult."
"Do you think studying doesn’t suit you?"
"Yeah, maybe a little."

I wasn’t exactly a diligent son either.

Both of my parents had graduated from prestigious universities and were considered elites.
But my school grades never exceeded the middle rank, even at their best.
It wasn’t like I didn’t study at all, but that was just how it was.

So, when my parents finally brought up the topic of my grades, I thought, "Here it comes."
Honestly, it was surprising they hadn’t mentioned it sooner.

"I’m not trying to nag you. I don’t want to be one of those moms from the parent-teacher association."
"Um..."
"Those women act like they can predict the future, but they don’t even notice when their children are falling apart right in front of them. I don’t want to be that kind of parent."

My parents loved me.

I’m sure of that.
Even though our time together wasn’t always long, it was enough for me to be certain.
They loved me deeply, fiercely even.

That’s why, even in their final moments, they could say it without hesitation.
It’s been years since then, but that voice remains vivid in my dreams.

"I love you, my son."

When someone is in pain, they scream.
When they’re afraid, their breath becomes ragged.
When they’re anxious, their body curls up.
Death brings with it pain, fear, and anxiety.

Yet, just before my mother died, she wrapped herself around me without a moment of hesitation.
She looked at me with the warmest, most sorrowful expression in the world.
There wasn’t a hint of any other emotion in her eyes.

Her mind must have been filled with thoughts of me, not of herself.
I wasn’t a child who grew up without love.

"...I’ll try harder with my grades."
"No, let’s focus on finding something you like first. Have you thought about trying a sport?"
"Sports? Like taekwondo or baseball?"
"Yes, those are popular with kids your age."
"I’m not really that interested, but... I don’t hate the idea, so I’ll give it a try."

We weren’t struggling financially.
If I wanted to try something, I could do it without much concern.
Even if I grew up to be a mediocre adult, there was no rush.

But honestly, it wasn’t enough.
As a child, I had many wishes.

I wanted to spend more time without feeling lonely.
When I came home from school, I wished the house wouldn’t be empty.
I preferred homemade meals over the takeout food my friends loved.

My parents showered me with love, but for a greedy child like me, it wasn’t enough.

Still... I couldn’t complain.
No one knew better than I did how hard my parents were working.
I didn’t want to burden them with childish complaints.

"So, your dad's friend runs a kendo dojo. How about trying it out for a month?"
"Kendo? Sure. When do I start?"
"How about tomorrow? I’ll let him know you’re coming."
"All I need to do is show up?"
"That’s right. I’ll talk to him for you."

There wasn’t much else for me to do anyway.
I didn’t enjoy studying, and I didn’t have a hobby I was passionate about.
Trying something new during my free time didn’t seem like a bad idea.

From the corner of my vision, I could see the bamboo sword moving.
The tip of the sword wobbled slightly as it approached—it seemed unstable.

It meant the attacker had left room to apply more force in another direction.
I received the first strike with all my strength and immediately deflected the opponent’s blade outward.

Success.
The sword, lacking sufficient force, was pushed back, exposing a gap.
I swung my bamboo sword at the now open torso.

Thwack!
A satisfying sound echoed.

"So, how’s my kid? Is he doing well?"
"...He’s got talent. A lot of it, actually. Have you thought about letting him pursue it seriously?"
"Oh, stop, Seok-won. You’re exaggerating. I’m not so gullible."
"No, really. This is the first time I’ve seen something like this."
"Oh my, really? Well, he’s always been good when he puts his mind to it, but he doesn’t do that often..."

Mom, stop it.
This is embarrassing.
I can hear everything from here.

Anyway, kendo turned out to be more fun than I expected.
People tend to enjoy things they’re good at.
As my skills quickly improved, so did my interest.

I soon encountered my first failure in life, but looking back, that was a valuable experience too.
For various reasons, I grew to like kendo.

I worked hard, so hard that I bled.
I defeated senior students who were known to be strong, and even became a difficult opponent for active players.
Eventually, there was only one person left who could still spar with me.

I liked winning.
I guess, like many others, I had a strong sense of competition from a young age.
And... something else.

"Son! We’re here!"
"Huh? Weren’t you busy?"
"Our son is competing, so of course we made time. Has your match started yet?"
"No, it’s almost my turn."
"Good. We’ll be cheering you on. Do your best, son!"

It was my way of seeking attention.

My parents were busy, constantly swamped with work, but they always made time to come see me.
There was no point in whining about it.

I’d known this since I was little.
But deep down, I wished for more time with my family.
Back then, I was much younger than I am now, and I craved connection more.

Competitions were a good excuse for that.
Whenever I had an important match, my parents would make time for me.
No matter what, they would clear their schedules for the day.

"Weren’t you too busy for this? Did you push yourself too hard?"
"Not at all. Seok-won told me today was an important match for you, so of course, I had to come."
"I could’ve done it alone, you know."
"Hey, do you know how much your mom’s been looking forward to today? And by the way, our son is amazing! I couldn’t keep up—it was all too fast for me to see."
"It’s... not that hard if you focus."

Through my teenage years, as my body and mind matured, my parents never missed a single event.

On the mornings of my tournaments, they’d prepare a light meal with salmon.
After my matches, we always spent time together as a family.
Sometimes, I found them a bit overbearing or embarrassing, but I never disliked it.

"It’s okay if you’re too busy. I’m not a kid anymore."

Honestly, that was a lie.
I was incredibly grateful and happy that they came.
I was looking forward to it too... but I was too awkward to say it.

I wish I could have told them that, at least once, while they were still alive.

"Don’t say that. We’ve never pushed ourselves too hard just to be there for you."
"In moments like this, family should be together. Whether you’re happy from winning or sad from losing, those feelings should never be swallowed by loneliness."

I can’t remember exactly which tournament it was.
But as I grumbled, embarrassed, my mother stroked my neck and said that to me.

I don’t know why it was my neck, but I remember that her touch, gently caressing the left side of my neck, was warm.
That’s why it was my neck.

[Training Mode – Free Practice]
[Map: Cradle of Delusion]
[Participant: Ga-wol (Swordmaster)]

"I feel awful..."

A sticky discomfort crawled all over my body, and I couldn’t stop scratching my neck.
No one was watching, so I used my nails to claw at the left side of my neck.
It hurt, but the warmth of the blood flowing out was oddly comforting.

There was a reason I picked up a sword—it was for my parents.
The parents who loved me.
The parents I wanted to seek attention from, to whine to just a little more.
The sword held all my childhood, my family, and my happiness.

But now, all the emotions I had poured into the sword had turned pitch black.
I still couldn’t bring myself to hold it again.
Before the blade touched anything dangerous, I shut off the game.

[Infinity Black has been terminated.]
[Thank you for using Infinity Black, Ga-wol.]