The Condition for Becoming a Gentle Idol Leader
He left Cheon Sa-yoon alone for the moment and stepped out into the living room.
The status window that had appeared before he even left the room still hadn’t gone away, hanging in his line of sight like an accusation.
Clause 2 | A perfect idol leader talks with the members often, even if only for a short while.
Now that he was out in the living room, the situation felt just as hopeless in a different way. Then Kyeon In-woo, who had followed him out, gave Go Young-in’s back a light push and jerked his chin toward his own room.
Between the status window’s instruction and Go Young-in’s own sense that this couldn’t go on, he nodded and moved to follow him.
They’d managed to find a place to sit, but just because the stage was set didn’t mean conversation would suddenly begin to flow. The things he could say were limited, and he didn’t even know where to start.
Go Young-in stared at the floating status window with troubled eyes.
Still, maybe because his memory was returning along with the emotions he’d felt back then, the thought crept in that Kyeon In-woo was at least someone he could trust to some degree.
At the very least, unlike the other variables, there was a sliver of a chance he wouldn’t change. So this was why people said experience and memory mattered. Who would’ve thought that a single forgotten fragment could change his thinking this much?
He wasn’t even sure if it was all right for his thoughts to shift so drastically just because one buried memory had resurfaced.
Even though he couldn’t bring himself to open with any meaningful topic, Kyeon In-woo waited patiently this time, unlike before.
Was he sensing that something was different this time and acting accordingly?
Either way, this was Go Young-in trying, of his own accord, to say something—anything.
“...First, about earlier—”
“If you’re gonna say something that’ll just make me itch inside, then—”
“No. It’s not that….”
His mouth still wouldn’t move properly. Some nameless instinct felt like it was yanking at him, telling him not to say a word.
But contrary to that instinct, the newly resurfaced memory seemed to tell him that this much was fine. It was strange. It really was.
This wasn’t some fierce battle for control of the self. Was he just not ready yet?
He was already frustrated at how hard it was to make the words come out, so he could only imagine what Kyeon In-woo must be feeling.
“I mean, I’m not staying quiet on purpose. I honestly don’t know what to say. Earlier was... because I was exhausted, and... and also....”
He forced apart lips that seemed determined not to part. It was incredibly impulsive.
His movements were clumsy too, and honestly, if it hadn’t been for the status window, he probably would’ve looked pathetic.
Still, the system hadn’t stepped in yet, so maybe this was acceptable.
For some reason, his chest felt tight.
“What you said last time was right, too.”
“What’d I say?”
His stupid head….
Thanks to the status window’s filter, he pointed near his temple instead of saying it outright, and only then did Kyeon In-woo catch on. He let out a low groan and swore.
“Ah, shit….”
Kyeon In-woo pressed irritably at the space between his brows, then rubbed the back of his neck.
You’re the one who said it first. Why are you acting like that?
“Fuck, Go Young-in, you’ve got a long memory, huh?”
Hey. That’s not what I meant. I’m saying you were right, not that I’m taking a dig at you. I really do have something wrong with my memory, damn it.
He wanted to say it out loud, but apparently he still wasn’t there yet.
Beyond this point, his mouth simply wouldn’t open, as though he’d already been warned by the system.
The moment he shut his mouth, the tightness in his chest eased a little too.
“What the hell am I gonna do with this guy?”
Kyeon In-woo, sounding half resigned, muttered complaints to himself, then added a needless explanation.
“Hey. I mean, half of it is just my way of talking.... Ha, never mind. Forget it. I’ll tell you later.”
So you do know your mouth is foul. Fine, it’s not exactly for me to say, but if you know it, why not fix it?
Still, neither of them seemed as sharp-edged as they had before.
For Go Young-in, that was probably mostly because of the memory that had surfaced. As for Kyeon In-woo, he didn’t know, but he seemed to have his own reasons for going easy on him.
“All right. Fine, then… if I ask you something, you answer me with yes or no. Got it?”
“…….”
It seemed Kyeon In-woo had decided that there must be a reason Go Young-in couldn’t talk properly, and that he’d use a process of elimination with a series of examples.
It was a wildly absurd approach, but it was also the only solid method he had, so Go Young-in had nothing to say.
He’d wondered what grand confession Kyeon In-woo had been building up to, only to be met with a string of ridiculous questions.
“Are you being blackmailed by someone somewhere?”
Huh, that actually kind of fit.
Clause 18 | A perfect idol does not speak or act carelessly just anywhere.
“No.”
“No? Fuck off, don’t lie to me. It makes no sense otherwise. What, are you some kind of secret operative?”
Kyeon In-woo huffed in frustration, then bent his head and muttered things to himself like, Hold it in. Damn it, but fuck.
This is probably his own version of thinking hard about it.
It had been rough from the start, but now that a few memories had come back, talking with Kyeon In-woo was slowly bringing bits and pieces of his personality back with it.
He remembered him, yes—but he didn’t know how different the Kyeon In-woo in front of him was from the one in his memory.
Strictly speaking, even the memories returning now were not of the current Kyeon In-woo, but of the much earlier one—before the reset, and in the early part of the loop.
The Kyeon In-woo in front of him was the same person as the one in Go Young-in’s memory, and yet not quite the same person at all.
Can I even still call him the Kyeon In-woo I know?
“About earlier. Was it really just because you were tired?”
“Ah, that. Well... I guess I didn’t sleep properly.”
“You usually... never mind. Keep going. So?”
Honestly, if there was no answer, he could’ve just dropped it, so why keep prying? Then and now, nothing had changed. Why did he keep showing up every time this cycle came around?
Annoying bastard. Miserable bastard. Relentless bastard. Son of a bitch.
No wonder Kyeon In-woo seemed to grit his teeth and push himself to act this way, like a forced development pinned in place by some predetermined chain of causality.
“You aren’t just sitting there alone making useless assumptions again, are you?”
...He’s suddenly sharp now. Fine. Let’s not overthink it. Kyeon In-woo was still Kyeon In-woo. There was no way he’d changed all that much.
After a few more exchanges, Kyeon In-woo fell into thought and then tossed out what sounded like his own conclusion.
“So, bottom line. There’s a reason you can’t say it, but you’re just not ready to talk yet?”
“…….”
Go Young-in wondered if that really counted as a conclusion. Wasn’t it just a circle back to where they’d started?
“...Yeah.”
“Yeah?”
Kyeon In-woo, one eye narrowed slightly, then pushed himself up from the bed where he’d been sitting.
“All right. I get it for now.”
“Can this even be called a conversation?”
Go Young-in couldn’t help but push back at him in the end.
When he looked up, Kyeon In-woo’s expression seemed to ask what the problem was. If anything, Kyeon In-woo looked more unfazed than Go Young-in did.
“You answered, didn’t you? You’ve never said anything like that before.”
Even so. He’d been bracing himself for more because Kyeon In-woo had been so persistent, and he hadn’t expected it to end this simply at all.
He’d assumed Kyeon In-woo would keep biting down and dragging it out. He’d even been halfway through preparing excuses for that possibility.
Kyeon In-woo laughed, sounding strangely incredulous.
“Hey, Go Young.”
“…….”
“Did I say you had to tell me some huge secret? I just wanted to know whether there was a reason. You don’t have to explain every last damn detail.”
“Mm.”
“Do you still not get what I’m saying?”
It was so unexpected he didn’t know what to say.
Even in his memories, he’d thought of Kyeon In-woo as a straightforward idiot. But he wasn’t simple enough to be dismissed as merely simple, either....
Should I be glad he doesn’t hold grudges?
“You don’t need to know exactly what happened. You literally just said it yourself, didn’t you? That there’s a reason for it. Even if you can’t tell me the details, there’s still a reason, and you’re not ready to talk yet. That’s enough.”
“…….”
“Don’t bottle it up by yourself and then blow up later in some weird way. Don’t go digging a hole and deciding on the outcome inside your own head like a lunatic over something this simple. I don’t even remember how many times I’ve had this fucking conversation with you, and you probably don’t either.”
He understood what Kyeon In-woo was saying. It wasn’t a hard thing, and that was why he was saying it.
But even so, expressing the thing buried inside him, even vaguely, wasn’t easy.
He’d spent too much time living through stretches where he never knew what kind of risk could come from a single word at the wrong time, in the wrong place. And there was the instinctive resistance too.
And yet.
“You think it’s funny too, right? That I didn’t even say something this simple? But that was the kind of bastard you were.”
Now that he’d finally gotten it out, he felt a little better.
Was this why his past self had tried all sorts of things to recover his memory?
As the empty space in his mind filled in just a little, he felt an unexpected sense of calm.
It was the same with what he’d remembered from the hospital. Because it had been lost memory, he hadn’t expected it to feel like a good memory by default, but....
Maybe not all of it was like that.
He couldn’t tell.
His stomach was queasy, but the feeling wasn’t all that bad.
* * *
The awkward atmosphere that had followed his not-quite-conversation with Kyeon In-woo soon settled back into something closer to normal.
Not that they’d said anything terribly important. It seemed Kyeon In-woo had simply let it go because Go Young-in had been the one to start talking first.
That was still strange.
By now, enough time had passed that it was already August 26—the day of the show’s first broadcast.
He’d left the practice room early so he could monitor it live. Usually, they said the members all watched together, but....
Well. He shouldn’t expect anything from Zero One. He’d asked out of courtesy whether they wanted to watch together, but their reactions had been exactly what he’d anticipated.
Assuming they’d each find their own way to tune in, he sat on the living room sofa, turned on the TV, and stared blankly at the commercials.
Then he felt the cushion beside him sink deeply.
Looking over, he saw Kyeon In-woo, holding a bag of candy from who-knew-where, collapse into the sofa and sling one arm over the back of the headrest.
That’ll cost you seventeen million won for spinal surgery, you bastard.
So he wasn’t interested? He’d ignored him earlier while gaming, and now here he was after all.
“You’re watching it here?”
“Yeah.”
He answered while crunching a piece of candy between his teeth, and what was he supposed to say to that? What a bastard, chewing candy like it was nothing. Why did he never change? It’s not like he was grinding his teeth.
Seriously. At this point, even that felt oddly familiar.
Go Young-in quickly let it go and turned his gaze back to the screen.
The digital clock atop the TV showed 9:00, the broadcast time.
The advertisements ended, and familiar music began to play.
It was the same song used in the teaser. Judging by the footage on screen, it looked like they were starting from the teaser itself.
Even now, it was still a teaser worthy of respect.
[Welcome, everyone, to the WHO'S THE K stage!]
With that familiar voice and line, the program finally began in earnest.