Chapter Text
You were amazed, consistently, of how much enthusiasm he displayed on streaming -- grinding day in and day out in a small studio in front of computer screens, constantly talking to thousands of audience who occasionally made rude comments despite your generosity. You could barely sit through a few hours of online rapid tournament yourself, not with the flashing blue light and camaras staring at your face. That's why you were even more impressed with his strict work ethic.
So you observed from the side.
His studio was lit up with bright streaming lights and that ridiculous neon pineapple lamp. There's a certain intensity in his tone as he talked to his chat, eyes shifting from his main screen of chess board to the side monitor of streaming lab; his head bobbed to the beat of music, which was too cheesy and poppy to your liking; his shoulder tensed when he got low on time, indicating he's still full of competitiveness even if it's just a random blitz game online. Shattered train of thoughts spilled out his slightly pouty lips, which almost seemed like an unconscious habit now. You could follow most of his calculation, of course, but you doubted anyone in his chat had the similar level of chess knowledge. Still he kept on sharing, kept on grinding those long hours, kept getting up before the sunrise and leaving you alone in bed, just to stream some tournaments for his chat who didn't show enough appreciation.
You still couldn't understand his enthusiasm even if your tried.
"Why are you looking at me like that, Magnus?" He stretched his arms after ending a long stream, eyebrows raised as he noticed you're still standing in the corner of his studio.
You sighed out of defeat. "I think I'm jealous of your chat."
02. Final
Every final was the same to you, even if it's the final round of an online tournament that's not even FIDE rated, you felt no less tensed than the last game of the world championship. You always wanted to win, no matter how pathetic the prize might look compared to all of your past achievement. You always wanted to win, even more motivated than usual to dethrone someone who had won five years in a row with your absence. He had now become the final boss of speed chess, and you knew you weren't so easily vanquished and convinced that he's better than you.
Despite your excitement, however, you showed up to the match with a form less than ideal, and no ego of yours could cover the fact that you weren't playing at your best level. Luckily, or unluckily to be honest, he wasn't bringing his best game as well. You managed to outscored him just enough to win the tournament, claiming the speed chess championship title as he said you knew you deserved. Your performance, though, wasn't even half satisfactory in your own eyes.
Hikaru congratulated you in the post game interview nonetheless, laughing and untroubled somehow. Still, the match left a bitter aftertaste in your mouth that you knew you couldn't just sit tight and enjoy the victory. For some reasons, the American didn't seemed half bothered by the result as you were, even as the winner. This was only bewildered to you -- had he changed so much that you weren't the one pulling the strings now? Was this even possible? So when he finally ended his stream for the day (which you weren't watching it through at all), you sent a private massage to him immediately.
"Hey Hikaru, wanna play some blitz?"
He didn't even reply.
03. Distance
You kept your distance, just like most of the time you were around other people, especially around your competitors, though it was getting harder and harder nowadays, and you had only your own sanity to blame. You were going insane without a doubt. When a certain world champion was around, your mind just kept playing tricks.
Magnus wouldn't mind if you come closer.
Magnus wouldn't mind if you sit next to him at a opening ceremony.
Magnus wouldn't mind if you stir up a conversation even when he looked just hangover and disinterested.
Magnus wouldn't...
The distance was there, even when you weren't sitting at a board and desperately trying to checkmate each other, you weren't exactly close. You were not friends before, and you knew you were barely a rival to him -- the world champion held himself in such a high level and standard that could crumble anyone and everyone who dared to challenge. Even if it's you, who was traditionally viewed as rebellious and confrontational, had to evade your eyes from his brightest, enchanting light.
What were you to the world champion, the best chess player in the world after all?
Magnus would mind.
Your most logical conclusion was finally set, and so you retreated your fingers that were only inches away from his thigh. Of course you wouldn't admit there was always a distance, physically and emotionally, between you two, or that you yearned to close it so much.
You smiled politely, along with all other tournament participants and spectators, as the host of the ceremony cracked a joke or two. You didn't hear anything other than your own drumming heart since you've been courageous enough to sit by Magnus' side.