Seo Yoon-chae stood in the doorway, rubbing his sleepy eyes.
I froze for a moment, but quickly came to my senses, realizing that Je-ha was still hidden using the concealment artifact. I scrambled to my feet.
“What do you think I’m doing? I couldn’t sleep, so I came out to get some air.”
“The same guy who swore he’d run straight to the dorms, shower, and crash the second practice ended?”
“……”
Seo Yoon-chae was oddly sharp in moments like this. What a pain.
I was grumbling to myself when, unexpectedly, he said something… gentle.
“You’ll catch a cold if you stay out in the wind like this. Just shut the door and go to bed.”
“…Wait, are you… worried about me?”
Startled, I asked, and though the shadows hid most of it, I could see a hint of red creeping up Seo Yoon-chae’s face. The way his expression twisted up made it obvious.
“W-What? No, of course not! I’m just saying—for the team’s sake! I wasn’t worried about you or anything!”
He turned on his heel and walked off, but his hurried steps betrayed his flustered state.
“…He’s gone.”
It was almost anticlimactic how easily he left.
But then, Je-ha—still sitting silently on the windowsill—was glaring at the spot Seo Yoon-chae had stood, eyes wide and intense.
“……”
He didn’t say a word. Just stared.
It was the look of a predator warning off a rival—stay away from what’s mine.
In the dark, Je-ha’s bright blue eyes burned like twin flames.
What’s with him?
It was jarring. There was no threat, no fight, yet Je-ha’s aura had shifted, wary and aggressive.
I grabbed his arm and whispered softly.
“…We should stop for tonight. If any of the others catch you here, you’ll be in trouble….”
Je-ha lifted his deep ocean-blue eyes to mine.
“I’ll be in trouble? Why?”
“Huh? What do you mean, why? You can’t risk your identity being exposed—”
It was a matter-of-fact answer. But Potato sighed.
[Clueless…]
What did I do?
I scowled and reached to smack Potato on the head—but Je-ha’s face was suddenly right in front of mine.
When did he get so close?
He leaned in, close enough for his breath to brush my skin, and murmured,
“I want people to know how close we are. That we’re real partners.”
He spoke as if it were something to be proud of—and just as I was trying to process that, he gently pressed a kiss to my forehead.
It didn’t feel real.
“W-What are you doing?!”
For a second, I’d thought he was aiming for my lips and squeezed my eyes shut like an idiot. I didn’t even try to dodge—even though I easily could’ve, on reflex.
Something told me I shouldn’t avoid it.
Je-ha, smiling with the brightness of a boy, jumped down to the ground.
“Think about what that meant.”
“Wait—hey!”
I couldn’t even call out his name. All I could do was shout, “Stop right there!”
But he’d already taken off, zipping away with telekinesis.
“…What the hell was that?”
Left alone in the room, I blankly stared out the window in the direction he’d vanished, clutching my forehead.
Potato came waddling over, holding up a small hand mirror to my face.
[You’re blushing the exact same color.]
He was right.
My cheeks were tinged with a soft red glow.
I could feel my heart pounding.
***
The comeback prep moved along smoothly.
I’d taken care of everything I needed to at the Bureau, and for the time being, there was no danger of trouble, so I obediently followed the schedule.
The CEO was overjoyed, saying I’d finally grown up. I let her interpret it however she wanted. It was fine as long as she was happy.
The mini album had two title tracks. One was a prince charming straight out of a fairy tale; the other had an East Asian vibe—a loyal royal guard.
That second one, codenamed “Hongmaehwa” (Red Plum Blossom), was Shin Tae-boem’s concept.
When I asked how he came up with it, he answered with pride,
“Our debut single was Bodyguard, and even the team’s name and image are all about protecting people, right? I’ve always wanted to try a traditional guard theme.”
Apparently, Shin Tae-boem’s pitch and song impressed not just the CEO but the rest of the execs as well.
He was practically bouncing as he explained to the members,
“We’re going full custom on the outfits for the stage too! The CEO said she’s putting everything into this comeback.”
Honestly, I worried about how many cars and designer goods she might’ve sold off for this.
Not really my place to worry, though, since she’s clearly loaded.
Not that I had time for random thoughts—the schedule came crashing in with zero breaks.
We began serious recording and music video shoots.
For both Chasing the Stars to You and Hongmaehwa, Seo Yoon-chae and I were assigned the largest parts.
“Are you sure it’s okay for me to have this much?”
I asked the CEO in disbelief, but the members all seemed on board. No objections.
The CEO replied,
“With vocals like that, not using you would be a waste. And if we’re gonna erase what’s left of your bad image, this is the most effective way.”
“But what about the others?”
My concern earned me a round of surprised, wide-eyed stares from the members.
“Wow, look at you, thinking of us.”
Seo Yoon-chae smirked, teasing me.
“I’m not kidding. I appreciate the compliment, but still….”
Ra Ho-yeon cut me off,
“Even being objective, your vocal skills are solid. We’d know better than anyone—since we’ve seen it up close.”
Shin Tae-boem and Cha Si-yoon nodded in agreement.
“Yeon Yu-jin. I wrote Hongmaehwa with you in mind. I added a bunch of high notes because I trust your voice. No one else in the group can handle this song the way you can.”
“Even the new fans are expecting you and Yoon-chae hyung to take center stage in this comeback. We can’t let them down.”
With all that support, I couldn’t exactly say no.
On top of that, Seo Yoon-chae, awkwardly, told me he wanted us to sing the highlight part together.
“…Don’t get the wrong idea. Our tones happen to blend well, that’s all. I don’t usually care about someone’s skills, and you know that better than anyone.”
Then he gave me this anxious look—like he was afraid I’d say no. It was kind of cute.
“Okay. I’ll do my best.”
We were busy filming behind-the-scenes clips and NewTube content, and though exhausting, it was a surprisingly fun experience.
So this kind of world exists too.
Secreti, united and working toward the same goal, shone brightly.
It was a different kind of brilliance from the battlefield glow I’d seen fighting monsters alongside Je-ha.
This was another kind of battleground—a collaborative war to create the highest-quality performance possible.
Dancing was still hard, but I trained through sweat and aching muscles. For those moments, I forgot about X. About revenge.
I was living as Yeon Yu-jin now, not Ahn Ga-hyun.
If I hadn’t been forced into the military and died as an ability user in my past life, maybe… I would’ve taken interest in this world instead.
The thought crossed my mind more than once.
So, I gave it everything I had.
***
Time passed.
Then, one day, a message came from Je-ha.
[Je-ha: I think I’ve figured out who X is.]
It was the news I’d been waiting for.
I snuck out that night, saying I was going for a walk, and headed to the nearby playground.
Je-ha was already there, waiting on a wooden bench—earlier than we’d agreed.
I thought I was early.
How long had he been sitting there, waiting for me?
Feeling guilty, I hurried over and sat beside him.
“Sorry. Have you been waiting long?”
“No, not at all.”
He smiled softly—but he looked exhausted.
“You look like you haven’t slept.”
“Haven’t had the chance. The team and I have been analyzing every angle to figure out who X is.”
“So, who is it?”
When I prompted him, Je-ha pulled out three photos.
“Three? There are three possible suspects?”
“Only one of them is the real one.”
Combining intel from the database with Baekho Unit’s independent investigations, they’d narrowed it down. These three were the only possible culprits.
“All three are active A-rank Espers.”
“They’re all good-looking.”
Okay, maybe not the right time for that, but the suspects were undeniably attractive.
Makes sense. These days, Hunters are like influencers or celebrities. With powers and looks, of course they’re popular.
I furrowed my brows, reading through their bios, when Je-ha suddenly asked,
“You think they’re good-looking?”
“Huh? Yeah.”
“More than me?”
