"Mm. I did a Bite-Heart, so should I try a Cheek-Heart this time?"
Hearing the trainees cheering beneath the stage, I calmly kept moving in time with the beat, continuing a series of cute, aegyo-like gestures as if I were dancing a choreographed routine. Showing off all sorts of heart poses—the essential repertoire of any idol.
I'd been briefly thrown off by the keyword, but aegyo itself wasn't exactly difficult for me.
Because—
—Yu-ha-ya! Give us a heart!
—Aegyo plz....
—Can you do a cheek-poke just once???
If I exaggerated a little, about half the requests fans gave me were for aegyo anyway.
'The reactions were good.'
I don't think I ever met a fan who hated aegyo. Because of that, I often got those requests during stages and live broadcasts too.
And while the reaction was even better when a member who normally didn't do aegyo suddenly did… unfortunately, in LIGHTNING, I was the only one who ever did it.
—What kind of guy does aegyo.
—I can't do crap like that.
—I can't do it!
Everyone wanted to keep a certain image—cool, charismatic, tough—not cute.
Doing aegyo was a personal choice, so I never forced it on the others. I didn't want to nitpick and stir up unnecessary drama either.
'And because of that, I ended up being the only one who did it.'
Since the LIGHTNING members always reacted negatively whenever they got aegyo requests, the fans eventually realized the members didn't like doing it—and they stopped asking.
On the rare occasions we hosted a U-Live where we could interact in real time, if an aegyo request popped up in chat, the members would even start policing each other.
'How is that normal.'
It was supposed to be something the fans simply enjoyed. But once I realized the fans were actually being self-conscious about asking, I started accepting aegyo requests even more actively. In response, the members hated it even more.
Because of all that, I became the one handling the most communication in LIGHTNING.
'It's not like I don't understand why they dislike it.'
Aegyo is something a lot of idols—not just LIGHTNING—feel awkward about. Especially male idols.
Because of that, many male idols would do it only when they were rookies, or when they absolutely had to. As soon as they gained seniority, they drew a clear line: no more aegyo.
'LIGHTNING wasn't at a level where we could refuse like that, so I ended up taking the lead and practically handling it alone....'
Regardless of status, I didn't think it was something worth disliking that much. I also felt a bit awkward doing aegyo, sure, but that was just because it wasn't something I usually did. It wasn't something worth avoiding.
And if my image could be "damaged" by a little aegyo, that image wasn't worth anything to begin with—so there was no reason to worry.
'Most of all, the fans love it.'
That's enough, isn't it?
With that mindset, I was doing this mission without any real resistance. I could have acted shy like the others and refused, but…
"Cuter!! Make it cuter!!!!"
"Best! Class! Team! Two! Yu! Ha!"
"Yu-ha!!!!"
…If the options were to do it half-heartedly and get criticized, or do it well and get attention, I'd rather give these kids—who are practically possessed by "video rights"—something they could use.
'…You guys are kind of scary, seriously....'
Avoiding the sparkling eyes of those who had sold their souls to video content, I matched the BGM and used every ounce of experience from my past life before I was finally done with my turn.
"Nice job, Yu-ha!!!"
"Hyung, you worked hard!!"
I returned to my seat, welcomed by the cheers and pats from the members of Team 2. The teammates who had been staring at me with fiery eyes earlier now slapped my shoulder and Joo Danwoo's as if congratulating us.
"Can you believe our team took both 1st and 2nd!"
Kim Taeyoung exclaimed in excitement. Just as he said, Danwoo and I had taken 1st and 2nd place in the 'Complete Reversal' category.
'Should I say luck was on our side....'
The keyword assigned to Danwoo was "Sweet Guy."
To express the keyword, Danwoo was given several choice-based prompts—lines to deliver depending on the situation, in a kind of acting format.
And Danwoo…
—'I'm so upset todayㅠㅠ'
—…D… did something happen? If you want to talk, I'll listen. If you'd rather I just stay with you, I'll stay. Whatever… you need, will you tell me? I'll stay by your side until you call me.
'A warm heart with a capitalist face....'
His gentle nature contrasted with his cold, dazzling visuals in a way that fit the keyword perfectly.
'Honestly, if someone said something like that to him for real, he'd probably respond the same way.'
They say excessive kindness is a disease—he's the type who would accidentally attract a whole swarm of fans with unintended sweetness.
"Yu-ha, you were amazing too~! Didn't you go through the same experience as Ji-hyuk hyung?"
"..."
What a freakishly sharp guy…
Aiden Lee struck right at the truth with a bright laugh. I replied with silence. Next to him, Hwang Young-oh carefully opened his mouth.
"Weren't you embarrassed? Watching, I felt a bit hot in the face… but you did great. Did you practice it separately or something?"
A faint irritation rose in me, but I smiled without answering. It was obvious what he really meant beneath the mask of concern and praise.
'Are you so desperate that you practice aegyo on your own time?'
…Something like that.
A sharp remark welled up to the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it with a deep breath. After five years as LIGHTNING's leader, ignoring this degree of snide remark was nothing.
But I wasn't so good-natured that I'd simply let a guy who kept trying to pick at me get away with it, so I tossed out a line.
"What's there to be embarrassed about?"
"Huh?"
"The fans enjoy it. That's what matters. It's not wrong, so wouldn't being embarrassed be stranger...?"
A subtle 'Then are you embarrassed by fan requests?' hidden in my words made Young-oh quickly shake his head.
"A-ah, r-right~! Being embarrassed would be weird. I just meant you did well. You were really smooth~."
Then he glanced at the cameras, clearly realizing he might end up edited into the villain role—"a trainee who tries to undermine his teammate"—if he wasn't careful.
Leaving him there, I sat back in my seat. Beside me, Aiden Lee opened his mouth again, as if patting himself on the back.
"Yu-ha, seriously, you did great."
"Yeah, thanks."
When I answered casually, Aiden Lee watched me for a moment, then threw out a remark as if it meant nothing.
"I thought you wouldn't do aegyo. It was unexpected."
"…Really?"
Not "couldn't," but "wouldn't."
The implication made me lift my head and look at him. Aiden Lee smiled lightly, not avoiding my gaze at all.
At that, I couldn't help but knit my brows slightly.
'…What is he thinking.'
The same question that had lingered in my mind for the past few days resurfaced yet again.
Common sense said Aiden Lee wouldn't possibly be trying to make an enemy out of me.
From the very first day of individual evaluations until now, his attitude toward me had been nothing but friendly.
He showed interest and goodwill, picked me first over the other trainees, gave me the main vocal position, and kept trying to keep me close—using me, yes, but not maliciously.
From his actions and words, it was obvious he saw me as more than just someone he wanted on his team—almost like a fellow trainee he wanted to work with or even a friend. It didn't seem like he wanted our relationship to sour.
'Then why does he keep poking at me with comments like these.'
The kind of words that linger. The tone that felt like he was hiding something—like he was probing me, trying to draw something out, almost expecting something from me.
'What do you want?'
I had ignored it so far, because asking directly felt like it would only make things more annoying. But Aiden Lee's attitude remained just as inscrutable.
"Why do you think that?"
He was still… making people uncomfortable.
So finally, with all my suspicions from the past few days gathered together, I asked, probing for an answer.
It had taken me quite some time to work up to the question, but unlike me, Aiden Lee didn't hesitate.
"Yu-ha, because there's a lot you can do but haven't done."
"...!"
Aiden lightly tapped my shoulder—checking my reaction again, sharp, as if he'd been waiting for it.
"You know you're good, right? You said there's nothing to be embarrassed about. But then why...."
Why are you acting so strangely?
The last words were mouthed silently, barely audible, and for a moment I closed my mouth, unable to reply. Not because the words wouldn't come—
—but because my mind had gone blank.
No, maybe being at a loss for words was the more accurate description.
Because it felt like he had hit the bull's-eye.
"...I…"
I was about to speak, pushing out the words with difficulty—
"Aiden! You're next!"
At Kim Taeyoung's call, Aiden stood up without waiting for my answer. And just like that, he ran toward the stage with a bright, innocent smile, as if nothing had happened.
I swallowed the words I'd been about to say and watched his back as he sprinted off.
After that, the battles continued.
For the next category, 'Ability Gap,' our team sent Aiden Lee and Park Wonhyo. The mini-game was a mix of quizzes and personal talents.
It was almost expected that Aiden—who could play several instruments, spoke multiple languages, and had a strong grasp of random trivia—returned with 1st place in 'Ability Gap.' The guy had already earned labels like "talented one" and "genius" since the individual evaluation stage.
Next came the 'Insider Gap' candidates, Kim Taeyoung and Zixuan, but neither placed.
The mini-game for 'Insider Gap' was guessing which trainee a piece of information referred to. You drew a slip of paper from a box and had to find and bring the trainee written on it to the stage.
Everyone got three chances. Most trainees didn't get any right at all—at most, one.
Of course. There were a hundred trainees. Most people only knew their own class or agencymates. It was essentially a game of luck.
Yet there was one person who got all three slips right, luck be damned.
—1st place goes to… Team 3's trainee Cheon Serim!
—Thank you!
It was Cheon Serim.
'What a guy…'
Well, Serim was well-connected. He liked wandering around, socializing, and he always seemed to be the first to pick up on any trainee gossip. I didn't think he'd be this good, though.
In 2nd place was Team 1's Yoo Chanhee. Apparently he was also quite well-connected, managing to guess two correctly.
After that, most of the trainees had only one correct answer, so the remaining slots became a shared 3rd place.
And then, right before the final battle—'Visual Gap'—began:
"Can't I be the one to go?"
Our team was still debating whether or not to let Hwang Young-oh participate.
"Hmm..."
"I mean, it's not wrong, but..."
Everyone's response was vague. It was because most of the team wasn't confident that sending Young-oh would help us score in the category.
Objectively speaking, Young-oh's visuals weren't bad. He had softer lines and a clean, handsome-boy look.
But the problem was that every team would be sending strong candidates for 'Visual Gap.'
We were close to 1st place overall, but we weren't in a position to relax.
We'd scored well in 'Reversal Gap' and 'Ability Gap,' but we hadn't scored in 'Insider Gap.' Team 1 (with Yoo Chanhee and Kang Hyunjin) and Team 3 (with Do Ji-hyuk and Cheon Serim) were close behind us.
Because of that, we desperately needed to secure points in the final category, 'Visual Gap.' Which naturally made the choice of candidate more difficult.
—What about sending Aiden and Yu-ha?
—Aiden has more defined, Western features, while Yu-ha has a softer, brighter kind of look. Their vibes are totally different, so either way, we'd have a strong chance!
…With that reasoning, Team 2 had tentatively decided that Aiden and I were the candidates for 'Visual Gap.'
"I also have a sort of fresh, bright image… and honestly, I'm the only one in our team who hasn't participated even once yet. So I'd like to go at least once."
And now, Hwang Young-oh was asking to take my spot and compete in 'Visual Gap' instead.