The next morning, Haru woke before his alarm.
Not from anxiety.
From a dream.
He couldn't remember most of it — only flickers of light on water, the pressure of silence, and the sound of his own voice trying to break through glass.
When he opened his eyes, the dorm was quiet.
Minju hovered nearby, perched sideways on the ceiling like a sleeping cat. She didn't speak at first. Just watched him.
"…Were you there the whole time?" he asked, voice scratchy.
"I go where the drama goes," she whispered, flipping midair. "And lately, you've been supplying enough for a series renewal."
He smirked. "I had a dream."
"You always do."
"No… this one felt different."
She tilted her head. "Did it have me in it?"
"No."
"Rude."
That day, their manager delivered unexpected news.
"No rehearsals today," he announced.
Five faces blinked back in disbelief.
"Instead, you're going on a team retreat."
Minhee dropped his chopsticks. "Is this a prank?"
Shiro gasped. "Is this plot development?"
Seojun, skeptical: "Why now?"
Their manager only handed them an envelope marked Open After Sunset, then waved them toward the van like it was a casual Tuesday.
Minju drifted behind them, invisible to all but one.
"I don't trust this," she whispered to Haru. "Feels like a filler episode before everything explodes."
The retreat house was a traditional countryside home — creaky wood floors, paper sliding doors, and a view of fog-draped hills in the distance. Cozy. Too quiet.
There were no stylists. No cameras. No staff — just one mounted camcorder in the main living area, blinking red in standby mode.
"Are we supposed to bond now?" Riki asked flatly.
"No," Shiro grinned. "We're supposed to trauma dump."
Minju, floating behind Haru, hissed, "This place is haunted. I can smell ghost competition."
After dinner (which Minhee and Shiro somehow didn't burn), they opened the envelope.
Inside: five cards. Each with a name.
"Say what you've never said — to the person who needs to hear it."
A silence passed over the group.
Minju hovered low near Haru's shoulder, whispering, "Ooooh. They're forcing emotional growth. I love this."
One by one, the confessions came.
Minhee to Riki:"I used to think you didn't care. But now I know you're the reason this group doesn't fall apart. You hold things in place when the rest of us lose it."
Riki blinked, quietly surprised. Then nodded once.
Shiro to Haru:"I know I joke a lot. But you've always been the one I looked up to. Even when you didn't know it. I just… wanted to be close to you. Not as a rival. As someone who sees you."
Haru's chest tightened. "Thanks. That… means more than you know."
Riki to Minhee:"You're a lot. But you make things less scary. Don't change."
Minhee wiped a fake tear. "I'm chaos with heart. I know."
Seojun to Haru:"I didn't respect you at first. Thought you lucked into this. But now I know you carry more than the rest of us combined. And you never ask anyone to notice. So… I'm noticing."
Haru blinked, stunned. "Thank you."
Then Haru picked up his card.
It had no name.
Just one word: "Unspoken."
Everyone looked at him.
He hesitated. Then spoke slowly.
"There's someone in my life who isn't… here. Not the way we are. But they've helped me more than anyone."
Minju sat still now, barely glowing.
"They saw me when I didn't want to be seen. Pushed me when I wanted to give up. And sometimes, I feel like I don't deserve that kind of belief."
He swallowed hard.
"I've never said thank you out loud. So this is me saying it. For everything."
The room was silent.
No one asked for details.
No one laughed.
They just sat with it.
And Haru felt… heard.
Minju floated up behind him, voice quiet.
"That was the nicest thing you've ever said to me."
"I didn't say it to you," he teased softly.
She smiled. "Still counts."
That night, the boys sprawled across the floor under patchy blankets and dim lights, the old beams above them creaking with age.
Haru stared at the ceiling, fingers laced over his chest.
"This might be the first time I'm not scared of debuting," he whispered.
Minju, hovering just above the rafters, replied without sass.
"That's because you finally believe you're meant to."