In any case, since we had all six photos, I immediately moved on. I met Yoo Chan-hee at the starting point of the track, and we put our arms around each other's shoulders.
"…Let's go."
"…Okay."
And we began walking, awkwardly trying to match our steps.
Thankfully, because Yoo Chan-hee and I were nearly the same height, the three-legged race wasn't difficult. We circled the track smoothly and returned to the starting point, where we quickly picked up a balloon from the basket.
Keeping his gaze elsewhere, Yoo Chan-hee removed his arm from around my shoulders and said,
"Hyung, you put on the sandbags and do the elephant spins."
"Mm, okay."
Since I couldn't possibly lift someone with Chan-hee's build, this division of roles was the most logical.
I agreed and strapped the sandbags to my ankles. With one hand on my forehead like an elephant's trunk, I bent forward and spun in ten tight circles. My vision instantly blurred, and my head swam.
Right as I was struggling to keep my feet from tangling and I completed the tenth spin—
"Ah."
Thud.
I collapsed straight to the ground.
"Wahaha!"
"Uhhahaha!"
"Aaah! Yuha hyung!"
"Yuha!"
And not just a little — it was a full, dramatic collapse.
"…Ugh."
I tried to steady my vision, but the dizziness wouldn't subside. When I attempted to stand up, I immediately fell again.
…Like someone whose feet were literally being dragged down by the sandbags — a truly pitiful sight.
"Wahahahaha!"
"Uhhahahaha!!"
"Ahhh, Team 4~! An unexpected struggle!!"
The other trainees were laughing like they were watching a comedy skit, but I, on the other hand, was in a seriously bad state.
'…Are you kidding me?'
Was I really struggling with the weight of the sandbags?
I sat on the floor, dazed, panting heavily. It was ridiculous how little control I had over my own body.
'I need to get up.'
If I stayed like this, the whole atmosphere would bomb. And that meant my screen time would bomb too.
I planted my hands on the floor and pushed myself up.
That's when—
"Give it here."
Riiip—
"...!"
I lifted my head just in time to see Yoo Chan-hee tearing the sandbags off my feet. He frowned, then strapped them onto his own ankles instead.
He glanced at me and scolded me in an exaggerated tone:
"Ah, hyung! I told you not to eat so much! You're dizzy, so I'll do it instead!! That's allowed, right?"
"Ohh, trainee Yoo Chan-hee~! A black knight, is he~! Beautiful camaraderie! It is allowed to have one member take on extra tasks!"
At that, Yoo Chan-hee nodded vigorously and began spinning like an elephant. I steadied my breathing, forced my body to calm down, and pushed myself to my feet.
By the time I stood up, Chan-hee had finished the spins, grabbed a balloon from the basket, inflated it, then dropped his weight right onto it with perfect aim, popping it instantly.
Then he bent forward toward me.
"Get on!"
"...."
I didn't waste a second and got on his back. Chan-hee sprinted down the track, and soon enough, we crossed back to the starting point.
I climbed off his back and checked the screen.
We were in 9th place.
***
After spending the late morning on the mini-segment, we had lunch and returned to practice. But the atmosphere was noticeably different.
"…So how should I handle this part?"
"…Hm, here you should…"
Unlike earlier, I was the one watching his mood now.
'…What's with this sudden change?'
As I helped him with the part he struggled with, I couldn't shake the complicated feeling in my chest. The events from earlier kept replaying in my mind.
Under normal circumstances, Yoo Chan-hee would never have helped me.
'If I flailed around and made a fool of myself, that'd only benefit him.'
Since it was just a mini game, if my image tanked or the mood collapsed, the damage would be entirely mine.
Whether viewers criticized me for "pretending to be weak again" or teammates glared at me for slowing them down, all Chan-hee had to do was watch.
But he chose to help me anyway. If it was because he feared we'd place last, that wasn't it — he knew as well as I did that we couldn't come in last.
'Team 3 never found all their members' photos.'
The team right behind us completely failed the photo section within the time limit. No matter how slow we were afterward, last place belonged to Team 3.
Yoo Chan-hee had been following the screen intently, so he must've known that. Meaning, he could've just left me there.
'But he helped me anyway…'
Whatever his motives, I nodded as he tried singing the bridge again, keeping in mind the advice I'd given.
I explained vocal placement and how to use his throat more efficiently, adding extra tips I thought might help. Surprisingly, Chan-hee listened closely and nodded seriously.
"…Practicing like this might make it easier."
"…Thank you."
Whatever I said yesterday must've gotten through; today, when I approached him to offer vocal support, he didn't object.
Even when I made him sing repeatedly while correcting him, he didn't complain or even show a sour expression. It left me stunned — and made me wonder just how desperate he was. Because he was enduring all this help from someone he supposedly hated.
It seemed the others were equally surprised.
"Did something happen between you two yesterday?"
Hwang Yeong-oh approached, tapping Chan-hee's shoulder and asking awkwardly. Chan-hee quickly glanced at me before lowering his head again.
"…No? Nothing happened?"
…And said something so unconvincing that it practically screamed lie.
'…They're definitely going to bring this up in interviews.'
We'd ignored each other for so long, and now we were suddenly helping each other and talking. And with reactions this transparent? Anyone who didn't pursue this angle had no business producing TV.
'Well, whatever. It's fine. I already achieved what I wanted.'
Seeing how the hostility in Chan-hee had vanished, I let go of some of the complicated thoughts. What did it matter what he was feeling? Once this mission was over, we'd go our separate ways anyway.
'He probably understands that too.'
That's likely why he was cooperating. And in that case, I didn't need to worry about the interviews either. He wouldn't suddenly revert back to hostility now.
Whatever he ended up saying, he'd probably frame it as: we talked a bit, realized we worked well together, and naturally became friendlier.
Since I had achieved my minimum goal — helping him where needed — I planned to shift back to practicing on my own. It wasn't like Yoo Chan-hee would ever teach me anything.
With that in mind, I stepped away from him and was practicing my rap when—
"…Why aren't you breathing there?"
"…Huh?"
I blinked blankly at him. I had messed up my pronunciation again and stopped, and Yoo Chan-hee suddenly spoke to me.
He hesitated for a moment, then squatted down, picking up the lyric sheet I had left on the floor.
"The lyrics. There's no breathing point anywhere."
"...."
"Here — 'swallowing down my anxiety, holding my breath,' then 'falling into the distant abyss.' There's no breathing space at all, and the connection is awkward. In cases like this, you tweak the wording a bit…"
He plucked the pen out of my hand and began marking up my lyric sheet himself, scribbling lines and adjusting phrases.
I took the sheet from him and tried rapping it under my breath. And I couldn't help but be surprised.
"…It's… a lot easier."
"Right?"
Chan-hee replied with a slightly brighter face, almost as if he were saying, See? I told you.
He had changed only a syllable or two in each sentence, but the lines that refused to stick no matter how much I practiced suddenly rolled off my tongue smoothly. It was almost unbelievable.
"And the breathing points go here and here."
"...."
I marked the spots he pointed out and tried the lines again. With proper breathing points, the flow sounded much better.
"Thank… you."
"…It's not like it's some big deal…"
After helping me with everything he could, Chan-hee abruptly straightened up as if realizing what he'd done and marched away, grumbling to himself.
He then practiced the song the way I had taught him earlier, and watching him, I couldn't help but think:
'Did that bastard regress too?'
Otherwise, how could a transformation this drastic happen overnight?
…Even I knew how ridiculous that thought was, so I quickly dismissed it.
***
"Hyung, did you hear Team 6 changed their arrangement?"
"What?"
I looked up mid-dinner as Cheon Se-rim sat across from me, lowering his voice.
"I think Dan-woo hyung fought with Park Woo-jae from that team."
"Fought…? Dan-woo hyung?"
"Well… it seemed a little one-sided, but someone did raise their voice, so technically yeah, they fought. I don't know how it'll air, but the crew was filming like crazy, so check the broadcast later."
"…Did you hear the new arrangement?"
"Briefly?"
He grinned.
"I'm guessing Dan-woo hyung did the changes? It sounded way better. Maybe he's got some producing talent too."
"…Really?"
I responded simply and went back to eating. There was nothing surprising about it.
'…Makes sense.'
I hadn't heard the new version, but if Joo Dan-woo was involved, it had probably improved a lot.
During the previous evaluation, he had offered many ideas, from refining the concept to structural details. Even if he didn't realize it, Aiden Lee had acknowledged him for it.
His ideas had only gone unnoticed because he was passive and needed pushing to contribute — but this time, it seemed he had taken the initiative and changed the arrangement and concept entirely.
Which meant I had only one thought:
'I need to practice even harder.'
Victory was no longer guaranteed, which meant we had to work that much more.
"…Excuse me."
"Hm?"
Suddenly, someone nudged me. I turned — and found an unexpected person standing there.
"I still don't really understand this part. Could you teach me later?"
It was Yoo Chan-hee.
He shoved his lyric sheet at me and said it bluntly, and I answered automatically:
"…Are you going to practice tonight?"
"…Obviously."
He had complained about being exhausted earlier. And hadn't he stayed up all last night?
I wondered if he was pushing himself too hard and decided to caution him — it'd be a disaster if he fell sick before the evaluation.
"Yoo Chan-hee-nim, you must be tir—"
"Ah, just call me Chan-hee."
"…What?"
He responded to my surprise with that familiar annoyed face, but somehow awkward.
"How long are you gonna keep saying 'nim'? We're on the same team. Just call me Chan-hee. And drop the formal speech too."
Then, stumbling a little, he added — almost like he was embarrassed:
"A-And I… should probably call you hyung. Feels weird if only one of us uses honorifics."
The sudden, whiplash-level shift in attitude made me answer stupidly:
"…Uh, do whatev— I mean, sure. But are you okay? You stayed up all night yesterday…"
"…Says the guy who's been pulling all-nighters since day one of training camp…"
…Well, I have my calming pills.
I couldn't exactly say that, so I just stared at him silently. Perhaps unable to handle the awkwardness any longer, Chan-hee suddenly snapped:
"Ugh, anyway! I'll be waiting over there, just so you know. Don't overdo it, and if you're tired, just go rest."
Without waiting for my response, he marched off again.
Leaving me with one unavoidable thought:
'He really did regress, didn't he?'
There was no other explanation for this personality shift.
I shook off the dumb thought and turned back to my food — only to see Cheon Se-rim frozen mid-bite, staring at us with a stunned expression.
"...?"
He seemed to have been watching our entire conversation. When our eyes met, he blurted out:
"Did he die and come back to life or something?"
"..."
Another stupid question — but one I understood perfectly.
Instead of answering, I decided to finish my meal. I needed the energy if I was going to practice with Yoo Chan-hee later.
And with that faint undercurrent of confusion lingering in the air, the rest of the training camp flew by.
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