...I had formed such a hypothesis once.
That this “system update” meant Cha Yoo jin had reverted to his Steer persona. I didn’t know the precise mechanism, but given the timing and circumstances, it seemed convincing. And the status window had notified that the update would take thirty days. Naturally, I assumed we’d be spending another three to four weeks with Steer Cha Yoo jin.
But then.
[Update complete!]
– Early achievement
It was the moment I never expected that this popup would suddenly appear.
[Applying ‘■■■ (ver.2 Beta)’]
Ziiing—
The hologram, which had been nothing but basic lines and fonts, suddenly regained its colors. The UI reactivated, assembling into a dazzling, game-like system framework. More refined graphics formed a translucent window.
And then.
[Done!]
“.......”
For some reason,
it was over.
I sensed it intuitively.
I turned my head and looked at him—the one staring at the TV’s dizzyingly fast kart-racing game.
And I spoke.
“...Cha Yoo jin.”
If the update finished early, then the strange phenomena he’d experienced should be over...
“Why?”
“...?”
...It wasn’t over?
Cha Yoo jin rested his chin in his hand without the slightest abnormality. He looked exactly like Steer Cha Yoo jin.
And when I called his name and got no response, he shrugged and turned his gaze back to the TV.
“Feel free to tell me if it comes back to you.”
“.......”
Wait a moment—is my basic assumption wrong?
‘It had nothing to do with the update?’
Just as my head threatened to become even more muddled—
Ding!
“...!”
Another popup appeared.
[Would you like to restart “Company-use ”?]
“.......”
Ah, I see.
I pressed my brow with my hand.
I even had the choice of timing.
All right, let’s see.
If I cancel the system now without restarting it, Cha Yoo jin might never return. But if I restart this damned system immediately... apart from the uneasy feeling,
‘Will this Cha Yoo jin just disappear immediately?’
...Probably.
Of course, it was correct to send him back quickly and restore the original Cha Yoo jin.
But now that I could choose, I hesitated—should I even tell him about this possibility?
Could I suddenly say to his face, “It looks like we can restore you now, so go back,” without doing mental damage?
‘His memories are Steer’s version of Cha Yoo jin’s after disbandment.’
I’d only just begun to open the conversation. Was there any guarantee he hadn’t hoped to enjoy one or two more performances here?
Sigh.
I stifled a sigh and perched on the edge of the bed.
This sort of thing rarely had a satisfying answer.
‘For now... everyone’s in poor condition. I’ll keep it on hold.’
I’d decide tomorrow.
“Good night, Mundae.”
“Yes. You too, hyung.”
Even after Ryu Geon woo—narrowly edging out Bae Sejin in a controller duel—fell asleep in his own bed, I couldn’t drift off quickly.
About an hour passed.
“.......”
Maybe it was the body-ache medicine, but my consciousness was in chaos.
‘I knew this would happen.’
Moreover, the popup’s glow was so intense I needed an eye mask.
Grumbling, I finally got up.
Sigh.
I headed to the living room for water when—
“You’re not sleeping?”
“...!”
I came face-to-face with Cha Yoo jin, still sprawled on the sofa.
“I slept too much during the day.”
“That wasn’t sleep—it was sickness.”
He spoke well. Despite having nursed everyone all day, he still looked too lively for past midnight.
I chuckled and filled a glass of water in the kitchen.
Why wouldn’t he go back in—oh, maybe Bae Sejin was uncomfortable.
“Want to switch rooms?”
“No thanks.”
He answered firmly, stretched, and muttered—
[If I just keep talking with a friend, you know? I wanted to stay awake a bit longer.]
All right.
“You talking with Kim Rae bin?”
“Yeaap.”
He rambled something about not spilling his drink, sounding like American slang.
I guessed he meant it wasn’t gossip about us.
“I’m not good with slang.”
“Sorry, but you seemed to understand, Mundae hyung?”
“By context and intuition.”
“Got it.”
Cha Yoo jin laughed and flopped back on the sofa—in the most comfortable pose I’d seen since he arrived.
“.......”
Drinking my water, I briefly considered whether now was the time.
Then—
[Hey, shall I guess?]
Cha Yoo jin sprang upright off the sofa.
[Maybe you found a way to send me back already?]
“...!”
“Yeap, I told you I figured it out.”
He smiled as he set down his cola.
[We’ve formed all kinds of relationships, and everything’s going well, so why would you suddenly worry about me?]
“.......”
[The situation’s reversed. Right?]
I couldn’t dodge.
“All right.”
I sat across from him on the sofa. It seemed better to explain rather than tangle the situation further.
‘Should I hint that it’s okay if he wants to fill the full thirty days?’
Just as that thought crossed my mind, Cha Yoo jin grinned.
“Why are you hesitating, hyung?”
“...!”
[Don’t get confused. I’m not one of your team members.]
He said it firmly.
[Oh, but I am your K-pop idol. Right?]
He added it as a joke, but I caught the nuance.
‘He’s telling me not to pity him needlessly.’
He didn’t want me thinking, “I want to give this Steer Cha Yoo jin more stages under TeSTAR’s reputation,” or believing he couldn’t give it up.
No idol wants to be treated like a charity case.
Well, it was stupid to think that way in the first place.
“All right.”
So I simply answered that.
But I had to add—
“...It’s true I was glad to see your stage again after so long.”
“.......”
Steer Cha Yoo jin was silent for a while.
Past midnight, with only an indirect lamp in the living room, silence held sway.
“Maybe... we’ll meet again someday,” he shrugged.
I didn’t ask how that might be possible.
“I’ll show you an even better stage then.”
“...Okay.”
I merely affirmed it.
“Great.”
He smiled and crossed his arms—an unspoken signal.
“A proper goodbye.”
“I already did.”
He shrugged.
“I said it to a friend just now, and I apologized to everyone else. I’m satisfied. And....”
And?
“I’ll do it for you now.”
He reached out his hand—not for a handshake, but in a high-five or fan-sign pose.
“My thanks, my fan.”
“.......”
I reached out too—palm to palm, not diagonally like a handshake.
“Thank you. For the great performance.”
“You're welcome.”
Our high-five was brief.
[Would you like to restart “Company-use ”?]
“.......”
‘Yes.’
Click.
A flash burst from the popup. New sounds of renewal, effect tones, and notifications erupted quickly and brightly, demanding attention.
But I didn’t turn to look.
Instead, I saw him off.
“Bye.”
Cha Yoo jin didn’t wince, but he blinked as if dizzy, then leaned back on the sofa and slowly fell asleep.
Steady breathing followed.
“.......”
Silently, I entered his room, retrieved a blanket without waking Bae Sejin, and draped it over the sleeping Cha Yoo jin on the sofa. Then I gathered bedding from my room and laid it on the living-room floor.
“.......”
Sleep came very slowly.
The next morning.
“Hey.”
“.......”
I opened my eyes—and immediately recognized the voice.
‘Cha Yoo jin.’
I turned toward the sound. There, right beside my head, Cha Yoo jin stood holding a large pot in both hands....
Wait.
‘...A pot?’
“...?!”
What is this {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} sudden situation?
At that moment, Cha Yoo jin’s wide-awake eyes met mine, and he exclaimed,
“Mundae hyung, you’re awake!”
“B-Bae Sejin!”
“You’re up?”
Then a chorus of frantic shouts erupted. It was as if they’d found a lifeline—members charged in, babbling.
“Cha Yoo jin’s back!”
“Yes, but... he cooked something!”
“He’s making breakfast!”
Cha Yoo jin flung off the lid with gusto and thrust it toward my face.
‘Hey, wait.’
But the aroma and appearance....
‘...Dakbokkeumtang.’
It was exactly that.
A fiery menu for breakfast when half the team had the flu....
No, hold on.
More importantly, his memory had returned—and instead of a tearful reunion, he grabbed a pot of dakbokkeumtang and thrust it at the head of the man who’d been sleeping?
‘This is confusing.’
Yet Cha Yoo jin was just the same—utterly consistent.
He then bombarded us with new information without pause.
“This is my apology and thank-you gift! We’ve been through so much.”
What?
Wait, that means....
“You remember?!”
“A little. Bad Cha Yoo jin enjoyed Waterbomb. I want to do it again.”
“...?!”
“Everyone, eat breakfast!”
Bae Sejin was stunned, but Cha Yoo jin marched everyone to the table, and the meal descended into further chaos.
“Yoo jin, are you okay? Your memory?”
“I’m fine and I remember everything.”
His condition was confirmed completely normal. Awakening at dawn, he naturally retained memories of the past few days, and after thinking it over, decided we needed breakfast.
“Bad Cha Yoo jin is still me, so I have to take responsibility. One meal isn’t enough. That’s why I cooked.”
“Yoo jin....”
Apparently, inside him, the “Bad” prefix for Steer Cha Yoo jin had solidified.
And I expected an emotional reunion to follow, but instead—
“Cha, Cha Yoo jin!”
“Kim Rae bin’s a traitor!”
“...?!”
“He told my secret!”
“I didn’t!”
“I told Bad Cha Yoo jin!”
“You just said he’s the same person! That’s invalid!”
Hmm. What a mess.
But from the side came a slightly misty murmur.
“It’s been a while....”
“.......”
I finally left my long-lost roommate, Bae Sejin, at the table and decided to eat.
And when I took a bite of the dakbokkeumtang—
‘Hmm?’
“.......”
“Why, why so surprised, Mundae hyung?”
“No reason.”
Cha Yoo jin interrupted.
“Is my cooking bad?”
“No, it’s good.”
“Hehe.”
Yes. It tasted good.
But still.
‘This isn’t just dakbokkeumtang.’
It was chicken soup. Almost identical to the chicken soup Cha Yoo jin tried on W Live that I salvaged by turning it into dakbokkeumtang.
And consider this—
‘Cha Yoo jin probably never made dakbokkeumtang before.’
Yet the one who cooked that excellent chicken soup was Steer Cha Yoo jin.
“.......”
I watched Cha Yoo jin continue bickering with Kim Rae bin.
‘No way.’
Does he actually retain all the memories from Steer mode?
