One week sounded longer than it actually was.
By Wednesday afternoon, nearly half of it was already gone.
Practice.
School.
Practice.
Home.
Sleep.
Repeat.
One week sounded longer than it actually was.
It wasn’t.
The days disappeared almost immediately.
School.
Practice.
Home.
Sleep.
Repeat.
Then again.
And again.
And again.
Yet the strangest part wasn’t the schedule.
It was Team 17.
A week ago, every practice felt like a competition.
Everyone was measuring themselves against everyone else.
Watching.
Comparing.
Calculating.
Now—
That was gone.
The Killing Part had already been decided.
There was nothing left to fight over.
Only the final evaluation remained.
And for the first time—
Everyone wanted the same thing.
It happened naturally.
Without anyone noticing.
The music would stop.
Somebody would find a problem.
And the entire room would start trying to solve it.
Together.
Wednesday afternoon was the first time Jiwon really noticed it.
The music stopped.
“Again.”
Minseok immediately walked toward the center of the room.
He replayed the last formation in his head.
Then pointed.
“No.”
“What?”
Jaehyun asked.
“The entrance.”
The dancer demonstrated the movement.
A quick step.
A turn.
Then another step.
“You guys are treating it like a transition.”
“It is a transition.”
“It shouldn’t feel like one.”
He walked back to the starting position.
Ran through it again.
Faster.
Sharper.
More decisive.
“When you enter, commit.”
He pointed at Jaehyun.
“You.”
Then at Jiwon.
“And you.”
A stomp.
The sound echoed through the room.
“Lift the leg.”
Another movement.
“Let the momentum carry you.”
Then he planted his foot.
Hard.
The sound snapped through the practice room.
“Then hit the floor like you mean it.”
Silence.
“…”
“…”
“…”
Minseok blinked.
“What?”
Hyunwoo looked impressed.
Against his will.
“That was surprisingly good.”
The dancer straightened immediately.
Finally.
Recognition.
Validation.
Justice.
Half an hour later, the music stopped again.
This time Hyunwoo raised a hand.
“Wait.”
Everyone looked over.
The center rarely interrupted unless he noticed something important.
“What?”
Jiwon asked.
Hyunwoo pointed toward the formation.
“The line before the chorus.”
“…Okay?”
“You’re rushing it.”
Nobody moved.
The silver-haired trainee stood up.
Then casually walked through the section.
One step.
A glance.
A pause.
Then another step.
Nothing complicated.
Yet the difference was obvious.
“You’re all trying to get to the next part.”
The room fell silent.
“The audience doesn’t know the next part exists.”
A pause.
“Let them stay here for a second.”
He pointed toward the center position.
“Let them absorb the moment.”
Another pause.
“Then move.”
Jiwon’s eyes widened slightly.
That…
That was exactly what Hyunwoo had done during the evaluation.
Making simple movements feel important.
Later that same day, Doyoung arrived with several printed pages.
Nobody liked that.
Because whenever Doyoung brought paperwork—
Something terrible usually followed.
“What is that?”
Minseok asked.
“I analyzed videos.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted useful information.”
“…Fair.”
Doyoung adjusted his glasses.
“I reviewed recordings from twenty-three other practice groups.”
The room froze.
“You WHAT?”
Minseok looked horrified.
“When did you sleep?”
“I don’t understand the question.”
“That’s concerning.”
“It should be.”
The analyst ignored him.
Then pointed at a section of the choreography.
“This formation.”
Jiwon already regretted asking.
“What about it?”
“The eye naturally goes to Jaehyun.”
Everyone turned toward the leader.
Who looked mildly confused.
“Why?”
“Positioning.”
A tap.
“Height distribution.”
Another tap.
“The formation naturally directs attention toward him.”
Hyunwoo leaned forward.
Interested.
Which said a lot.
Doyoung continued.
“If Jaehyun takes a slight step forward here…”
He pointed again.
“And we support the line vocally from behind…”
A pause.
“The visual focus becomes much cleaner.”
Silence.
Then:
“…How do you know that?”
Jiwon asked.
“I measured it.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
Nobody questioned that further.
For obvious reasons.
Thursday wasn’t much different.
Suggestions became corrections.
Corrections became adjustments.
Adjustments became improvements.
The group kept polishing small details.
Again.
And again.
And again.
At one point Jaehyun stopped the music.
“Again.”
Nobody complained.
The leader slowly walked through the formation.
Watching everyone.
Evaluating.
Then he pointed.
“Doyoung.”
“What?”
“Half-step early.”
The analyst blinked.
“What?”
“Every time.”
A pause.
Then Jaehyun turned.
“Jiwon.”
Jiwon already knew.
“I’m late.”
“Three steps.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“How did you know?”
“I’ve watched it twelve times.”
That sounded like Jaehyun.
Unfortunately.
The next attempt looked cleaner.
Then cleaner again.
Then cleaner again.
Until eventually—
Everyone stopped moving.
Breathing heavily.
Sweating.
Exhausted.
Yet somehow smiling.
Jiwon looked toward the formation.
Something still bothered him.
The feeling had been there for hours.
Maybe days.
Finally—
He raised his hand.
“I think something’s missing.”
The room looked over.
“What?”
Minseok asked.
Jiwon stared at the formation.
Thinking.
Then pointed.
“Here.”
The transition before the chorus.
One of the quieter moments.
“We’re treating it like dead space.”
Nobody spoke.
Because everyone immediately understood.
Jiwon walked toward the center.
Then ran through it once.
The movement remained simple.
Yet this time—
The transition connected the previous formation to the next.
It felt intentional.
Purposeful.
Alive.
When he finished, the room remained silent.
Then Hyunwoo nodded.
“That’s better.”
Jaehyun nodded too.
Doyoung quietly made a note.
Minseok stared for a second.
Then pointed.
“I hate this.”
“What?”
Jiwon asked.
“You keep having good ideas.”
“Sorry.”
“No you’re not.”
And somehow—
For the first time since Team 17 had been formed—
Practice didn’t feel like preparation.
It felt like five people building something together.
The days passed so quickly after that that Jiwon barely noticed them.
One moment it was Wednesday afternoon.
The next—
It was Friday.
The music stopped.
Five exhausted trainees immediately collapsed in different directions.
Minseok hit the floor first.
Naturally.
“We’re winning.”
Nobody reacted.
A common occurrence.
“We’re definitely winning.”
Still nothing.
The dancer looked offended.
“Why does nobody believe in me?”
“Because you’re saying it.”
Doyoung replied.
“That’s discrimination.”
“It isn’t.”
“It feels like it.”
Jiwon laughed.
For the past few days, this had somehow become normal.
No rivalry.
No competition.
No fighting for positions.
Just practice.
Again.
And again.
And again.
For once—
Everyone was pulling in the same direction.
A comfortable silence settled over the room.
The kind that only appeared after hours of training together.
Eventually, Jaehyun checked the time.
Then stood.
“We should go.”
“Home?”
Minseok immediately asked.
“No.”
“Then where?”
The leader looked around the room.
“We still need our stage outfits.”
A pause.
Then Minseok sat upright instantly.
“Shopping?”
“Yes.”
The dancer sprang to his feet.
“I have recovered.”
“You were dying five seconds ago.”
“I’ve experienced a miraculous recovery.”
Nobody listened to the rest of the argument.
━━━━━━━━━━━━
As expected.
Jiwon had forgotten how dangerous shopping became in large groups.
Especially when Minseok was involved.
“Absolutely not.”
Jaehyun was already shaking his head.
Minseok looked betrayed.
“What do you mean absolutely not?”
The dancer held up an unbelievably bright jacket.
“I look amazing.”
“You look radioactive.”
“I choose to take that as a compliment.”
“It wasn’t.”
“That’s becoming a theme lately.”
The group continued through the store.
Trying things on.
Rejecting each other’s choices.
Then immediately choosing even worse ones.
At least mostly.
Eventually—
Actual progress happened.
A miracle.
The outfits slowly came together.
Loose denim.
Relaxed silhouettes.
Simple accessories.
Nothing flashy.
Nothing excessive.
The kind of styling that looked effortless.
Which usually meant somebody had spent hours making sure it looked effortless.
Very idol-like.
One by one, they stepped out of the changing rooms.
Minseok appeared first.
Baggy jeans.
Black tank top.
Denim jacket hanging from one shoulder.
The expression on his face suggested he had already debuted.
Unfortunately.
“Thoughts?”
“You still look like Minseok.”
Jaehyun replied.
The dancer looked disappointed.
“What was the point of changing clothes then?”
“No idea.”
“Tragic.”
Jaehyun emerged next.
The outfit fit him perfectly.
Obviously.
Everything fit Jaehyun perfectly.
That was part of the problem.
The leader glanced at the mirror.
Adjusted his sleeve.
Adjusted it again.
Then stopped.
Satisfied.
As expected.
Doyoung stepped out after him.
The outfit looked surprisingly good.
Unfortunately, nobody noticed.
Because he was still reading something on his phone.
“Are you studying?”
Jiwon asked.
“Yes.”
“We’re shopping.”
“And?”
“…”
“…”
The terrifying part was that he seemed genuinely confused by the question.
Then Hyunwoo appeared.
Silence followed.
Immediate silence.
Minseok sighed.
“That’s annoying.”
“What?”
Hyunwoo asked.
“You.”
The silver-haired trainee looked down at himself.
Then back up.
“I don’t understand.”
“That’s the worst part.”
Finally—
Jiwon stepped out of the changing room.
The outfit fit surprisingly well.
The oversized denim sat naturally across broader shoulders.
The black tank top highlighted the progress he’d made over the past weeks.
His proportions looked better.
Noticeably better.
The difference was obvious.
At least to him.
Yet—
Something felt wrong.
Not bad.
Not ugly.
Not awkward.
Just…
Ordinary.
Jiwon stared at his reflection.
The clothes worked.
The styling worked.
Everything technically worked.
But when he looked at himself—
Nothing stood out.
Not memorable enough.
Across the room, Hyunwoo noticed.
Of course he did.
The silver-haired trainee frowned slightly.
“Hm.”
Jiwon immediately became suspicious.
“What?”
“Your hair.”
“…My hair?”
“It’s doing nothing.”
Silence.
Minseok slowly turned around.
“What does that even mean?”
Doyoung looked up from his phone.
“I’m curious too.”
Hyunwoo pointed toward Jiwon’s reflection.
“It’s not bad.”
A pause.
“It’s just not helping.”
Jiwon looked back at the mirror.
Then at Hyunwoo.
“…That’s a thing?”
“Obviously.”
Minseok gasped.
“He’s evolving.”
“What?”
“He’s speaking in center.”
Nobody knew what that meant.
Including Minseok.
As usual.
Hyunwoo grabbed his jacket.
“Come on.”
“Where?”
“Salon.”
Jiwon’s instincts immediately activated.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Jaehyun looked at Jiwon.
“He’s right.”
That betrayal hurt slightly more than expected.
Unfortunately.
Everyone agreed.
And somehow—
That was how Jiwon found himself being dragged toward a hair salon against his will.
━━━━━━━━━━━━
Twenty minutes later—
Jiwon regretted every decision that had led him here.
The salon was enormous.
Bright lights.
Stylists everywhere.
Products whose prices were probably illegal.
And somehow—
His entire team looked completely comfortable.
Which was concerning.
Very concerning.
Jiwon sat in front of a mirror.
A stylist immediately disappeared behind him.
Armed.
With scissors.
That felt threatening.
Across the room, Doyoung hadn’t changed at all.
A textbook rested on his lap.
One hand held a pen.
The other occasionally turned a page.
Even while getting his hair styled.
Jiwon stared.
“Are you studying?”
Without looking up, Doyoung answered.
“The evaluation is tomorrow.”
“We’re getting our hair done.”
“And?”
“…”
“…”
The terrifying part was that he sounded completely serious.
Near the window, Jaehyun sat perfectly still.
Back straight.
Arms relaxed.
Not moving.
Not speaking.
Not blinking.
The stylist worked around him effortlessly.
It looked less like he was getting his hair done.
And more like he had been placed there as part of the furniture.
Jiwon pointed.
“Has he moved?”
“No.”
Minseok answered immediately.
“Not since we arrived.”
“That’s unsettling.”
“It really is.”
Then both of them looked toward the final member of Team 17.
And immediately regretted it.
Because Hyunwoo had somehow achieved enlightenment.
He lay reclined in an expensive chair.
Wearing a white robe.
Cucumber slices covered his eyes.
A facial mask sat on his face.
One employee was working on his nails.
Another was handling his feet.
A third was adjusting his hair.
“…”
“…”
“…”
Jiwon stared.
For several seconds.
Then looked at Minseok.
“What is that?”
“I think that’s royalty.”
“I wasn’t aware trainees got royalty.”
“Neither was I.”
Across the room, Hyunwoo didn’t even open his eyes.
“I’m sitting right here.”
“Unfortunately.”
Minseok replied.
The stylist working on Hyunwoo immediately laughed.
Which somehow made the situation worse.
Then the dancer turned toward Jiwon.
Meanwhile—
Minseok himself was receiving what appeared to be the greatest head massage in human history.
The expression on his face suggested he had transcended reality.
A soft noise escaped him.
Something between a sigh and a religious experience.
“…”
Jiwon slowly looked away.
“I hate this team.”
“No you don’t.”
Jaehyun answered.
Without opening his eyes.
Without moving.
Without changing expression.
Which was even more unsettling.
The stylist behind Jiwon finished trimming his hair.
Then stepped back.
“Hm.”
Jiwon immediately became nervous.
“What does ‘hm’ mean?”
“No, no.”
The stylist smiled.
“Much better.”
Several adjustments followed.
The hair became lighter.
Cleaner.
Sharper.
His face appeared more defined.
His eyes stood out more.
Even Jiwon had to admit it looked better.
Then the stylist tilted her head.
“We could color it.”
Silence.
Jiwon blinked.
“What?”
“A different color.”
“A safer color.”
Jaehyun suggested immediately.
“A boring color.”
Minseok corrected.
Hyunwoo finally removed the cucumber slices.
At last.
Human civilization recovered.
“Not black.”
That was all he said.
Jiwon looked back toward the mirror.
Then paused.
A memory surfaced.
Bright red hair.
Infinite energy.
A basketball.
A grin that somehow survived every situation.
Minjae.
A small smile appeared.
“You know what?”
Everyone looked over.
“Let’s do it.”
The stylist smiled.
“What color?”
Jiwon stared at his reflection for another second.
Then nodded.
“Red.”
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Minseok stood up so fast that his head massage nearly became a workplace accident.
“YES.”
“No.”
Jaehyun answered immediately.
“YES.”
“No.”
“YES.”
Doyoung finally looked up from his textbook.
“…Actually.”
Everyone turned.
“I can see it.”
The room froze.
Because Doyoung agreeing with something was statistically rare.
Hyunwoo looked at the stylist.
“Do it.”
That settled it.
The color was applied.
Time passed.
Minutes became longer minutes.
Eventually—
The stylist stepped back.
Then smiled.
“Okay.”
Jiwon opened his eyes.
And looked into the mirror.
…
“…Holy shit.”