Jeong Seongbin knew for certain that, in this team, the person he could rely on most was Kim Iwol.
Things he couldn’t easily confide to friends or younger members felt strangely easy to say in front of Kim Iwol.
On top of that, Kim Iwol was capable, talented, and even proactive.
He might have started as a trainee late and had no knack for dance, but with effort you couldn’t help but acknowledge every time, he grew bit by bit.
So there was only one thing about Kim Iwol that Jeong Seongbin had ever worried about.
Health management.
Compared to the other members, Kim Iwol’s stamina was outstanding. Even when the rest collapsed from long hours of practice, Kim Iwol was always unruffled.
And not just that.
When everyone came back to the dorm exhausted and tried to sleep, it was routine for Kim Iwol to sit in front of his laptop before his wet hair even dried.
He never skipped PT classes. If anything, his machine-like, unchanging training volume was enough to surprise the trainer.
Once, while eating the bread Kim Iwol had baked for him on their way to school, the younger Giyeon had said—
"Isn’t Iwol basically a cyborg?"
—he was that consistent.
In periods when he slept too little, his dark circles got a bit darker, but Kim Iwol was always calm.
He didn’t sag because of lack of sleep, and he didn’t get prickly because of diet control.
There was exactly one time, during a group monitoring session, when he said he was tired and went to his room first.
You didn’t even need to hear it to know it wasn’t because he felt unwell. He must have had his reasons; they just didn’t press.
Besides, Kim Iwol wasn’t the type to fully accept it when someone worried about him.
Most of what he said was along the lines of—
"I’ll sleep when I should. Don’t worry about me."
"I’m fine for now. You go ahead."
"I’ll wrap up when I have time and head out."
—things like that.
Jeong Seongbin knew that when it came to work and schedule, Kim Iwol always drew a firm line.
So all he could really do was now and then voice concern for his health, or nag a little by invoking the younger Lee Cheonghyeon to tell him to sleep.
Which is why, when Kim Iwol started bleeding from the nose in the middle of the practice room—
Jeong Seongbin was shocked, and yet a corner of his mind couldn’t shake the thought that the inevitable had come.
Everyone jumped, but only Kim Iwol didn’t so much as twitch.
If anything, he calmly brought a wad of tissue under his nose and said he’d block it and keep practicing.
Even with blood streaming between his fingers, he was laid-back.
It was to the point you wondered if something had torn and the blood was leaking out, and still.
Everyone urged him to go back to the dorm, but he wouldn’t listen.
The bleeding didn’t stop for over ten minutes, and he kept being stubborn—only when the normally mild Kang Giyeon raised his voice and forcibly packed his bag did Kim Iwol finally leave the practice room.
Only after they made sure he lay down on his bed did everyone breathe out.
We’ll have to make sure to contact the manager in the morning.
Thinking that, Jeong Seongbin lay down and fell asleep—until someone woke him.
A hand rested on his shoulder and shook him lightly.
Then a small voice called him.
"Seongbin, Seongbin..."
The one who repeated his name—his friend and other roommate—was Park Juu.
Jeong Seongbin forced his eyes open. In the unlit room he could just make out Park Juu’s silhouette.
"Mm... what is it?"
"Sorry to wake you. But... did Iwol go out?"
"What?"
In that instant, the shock snapped him awake like a blow to the back of the head.
"What do you mean? He isn’t in the room?"
He shot upright and asked. Eyes adjusted to the dark, he could see the worry plain on Park Juu’s face.
"I woke up and worried he might be having another nosebleed, so I went to check, but his bed was empty... I thought maybe he told you and left."
Jeong Seongbin had heard no such thing.
He threw off his blanket at once and headed for the other members’ room.
Just like Park Juu said, one of the bottom bunks was empty.
Someone might say he’s a grown man—can’t he step out at night for a bit?
But the Kim Iwol Jeong Seongbin had watched all this time wasn’t the sort to break a single rule on a whim.
If that Kim Iwol left without a word, there had to be a reason.
He hurried into the living room, grabbed the phone, and called the manager.
If Kim Iwol had rushed to the hospital in the night, the manager would surely be with him.
But contrary to that hope, after the ring cut off, the manager’s voice came on sounding like he’d been deep asleep.
"...Hello?"
"Ah, hyung..."
"Seongbin? What’s going on at this hour?"
Hearing the drowsiness drip from his voice, Jeong Seongbin balked.
Keeping as calm as he could, he apologized and hung up with the excuse that he suddenly couldn’t remember tomorrow’s schedule.
Watching him kneeling in front of the living-room cabinet during the call, Park Juu asked:
"...Manager hyung doesn’t know either?"
"Yeah. Looks like he went out alone."
Trying hard to hide his anxiety, Jeong Seongbin worried his lower lip.
He kept thinking of that ghost-white face from earlier and the blood that wouldn’t stop running over the back of his hand.
That was when Park Juu, watching him, spoke.
"I’ll go take a lap around the neighborhood... He might’ve gone to the convenience store to buy medicine."
"Huh? No, I’ll go. You sleep more."
"You’ve got school tomorrow. I can sleep till practice."
With that, Park Juu headed for the entryway. Suddenly, Jeong Seongbin remembered the time when Park Juu was burning with a high fever.
Back then, without hesitation, Kim Iwol had dashed out into the night. Maybe that’s why Park Juu was being more proactive now.
At the same time, he remembered what Kim Iwol had proposed for the team—for him.
"Then at least within the company, let’s move in pairs."
—those words.
Jeong Seongbin pushed himself up from the floor. And he left the dorm with Park Juu.
The two of them ran all over the neighborhood for a long while.
They hit every convenience store, even went to the ER at the nearby hospital.
They asked if a tall man named Kim Iwol had come in, but the only answer they got back was "No."
"So he didn’t go out to buy medicine...?"
Murmuring as his words trailed off, Park Juu glanced at the time. It had already passed midnight.
At that moment, something flashed through Jeong Seongbin’s mind.
A question Kim Iwol had tossed out not long ago.
"Assume that if you practice hard for just one week exactly the way I tell you, you’ll definitely get results to match. Then will ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) you do as I say?"
"Definitely?"
"Yeah, definitely."
One week. And after that, the way he’d had the members clock five-hour units of practice.
And Kim Iwol himself, who had been logging nearly fifteen hours every day.
"Juu."
"Yeah?"
"I think I know where he is."
With that, Jeong Seongbin broke into a run.
When Park Juu asked where they were going, he didn’t slow down and only answered that it was the practice room. Park Juu looked startled, but he didn’t put up much objection.
Even as he hurried, Jeong Seongbin hoped this practice-addicted hyung wouldn’t actually be in the practice room.
He prayed that the reason he’d insisted on finishing practice hadn’t been some ancestor’s revelation or whatever.
But what greeted them in UA’s basement was a white light spilling out of a practice room they had definitely turned off on their way out.
When Jeong Seongbin opened the door, there stood Kim Iwol, soaked in sweat, looking relieved.
I looked once at Jeong Seongbin’s face, once at the clock on the wall of the practice room.
"What are you doing here at this hour. Don’t tell me you came alone?"
No sooner were the words out than a mop of Park Juu’s hair showed up over Jeong Seongbin’s shoulder.
Two minors holding hands for a night outing. You want to get chewed out.
I was trying to decide whether to scold them for running out without a word in the middle of the night, or to praise them for at least coming together, when Jeong Seongbin’s expression hardened.
"Hyung, is that really what matters right now?"
A rare sight—wrinkles even formed between his brows.
"Do you know how scared we were when you were gone? And why are you at the practice room till this hour when you’re not well?"
Only then did I realize they’d come all the way here because of me.
It was a shame to get caught, but I’d already filled the time, so there was nothing to regret in heading back. I screwed the cap on my water bottle and said:
"Sorry. I thought you were all asleep. I’ll head back now—"
"No, I’m not here for an apology!"
His voice rang in the room. Frustrated, he burst out:
"You bleed that much and keep saying you’re fine, we say let’s go to the hospital and you won’t listen! What if it’s something serious?"
"Seongbin, over a nosebleed—"
"Normally, a ‘mere nosebleed’ doesn’t soak your clothes. And you don’t stagger when you walk, either."
He didn’t yield an inch. I guess the state of my T-shirt—smeared with blood—had really shocked him.
But I didn’t actually need a hospital. My nosebleed was a System penalty, not a health issue.
And in the last nine years of health checkups, I’d never had a single abnormal result. There’s no way I’ve got some big illness.
I had no idea how to explain any of this. I was just grateful that Park Juu was, however clumsily, trying to calm him.
Even with Park Juu’s attempts to stop him, Jeong Seongbin didn’t.
"We’re the ones who’ve been moving in pairs like you told us. We’re logging all the hours and doing everything you tell us to do. Then why don’t you keep even the one promise you made—to tell the members if you’re sick?"
"I didn’t because I wasn’t sick. Who expects a nosebleed."
"If it were Cheonghyeon or Giyeon, would you say the same thing? That a nosebleed like this is nothing, so fill your practice hours and go?"
He was more relentless than when I got hit by Yoo Hansu.
I sighed inwardly. I didn’t want to get into a war of words with a kid.
"Seongbin, you said it yourself back then."
"...Said what?"
"Practice. You said you’d do it even if there were no results."
When I asked if, on the premise that he’d get results if he just did as I said, he would practice hard, he’d definitely answered that way.
And sure enough, with his good memory, he recalled that conversation right away.
I didn’t miss the chance and kept going.
"I thought the results would definitely come. I want things to look as presentable as possible before the comeback. That’s not a bad thing."
"That premise didn’t include pushing yourself like this."
"That’s a matter of condition—variance. Is there anyone among us not practicing up to their limit right now?"
"Why is that limit so much harsher only for you? Yes, we’re all doing our best, but we’re not sleeping less and practicing more than you do. Because you’re the one minding everything! So why are you like this—only ever harsh with yourself..."
"Seongbin, you’re not asking because you don’t know, right?"
I shrugged.
"It’s because I’m so much more lacking than you guys."
