Chapter 620
Chapter 620
Archery is, fundamentally, an outdoor sport.
The Olympic standard distance to the target is 70 meters. Even if the specific events are subdivided in a competition, they start at a minimum of several dozen meters. It is far too vast a space to be contained entirely indoors.
That sense of scale.
To practice hitting targets at such staggering distances, archers would perform the extraordinary feat of shooting from inside a building out through a window into the open air during the dead of winter.
Thus, Ryu Cheong-woo was well-acquainted with this wind-swept outdoors.
“…….”
The moment he gripped the bow and inhaled, his five senses perceived his surroundings in three dimensions.
The wide-open space.
The familiar presence of the people practicing beside him.
All these accustomed sensations summoned his past self—the version of him that had been pushed to the back of his mind, unused until now.
It came back to life as if it were only yesterday.
“…….”
Ryu Cheong-woo nocked a carbon arrow.
It didn't matter that it was a worn-out, entry-level recurve bow. He wasn't the type to obsess over equipment details or jinxes. In fact, to prepare for any contingency, he used to undergo adaptation training by randomly swapping between various products and finger tabs of all conditions.
Those were the days when he was brimming with self-confidence.
The memory flashed vividly in his mind.
“…….”
He placed his left hand on the handle grip.
He gripped it firmly and pulled the string with his other hand.
Creak.
The public archery equipment shrieked under a level of grip strength it had never experienced before, but it soon adjusted.
‘The arrows are different.’
They weren't his own arrows, which he always kept finely tuned.
But…
That didn't change anything.
He willingly faced the target.
Body to the side.
Gaze forward.
The right hand pulls, and the left hand holds steady. He drew the balance between strength and stability to its absolute limit, teetering on the edge…
Release.
Whish.
A thin breeze brushed his cheek.
Ting.
A pleasant recoil, and the arrow sliced through the air.
“…….”
He knew without looking. Just like an announcement from back then.
—It’s a bullseye!
A thrill shivered through him like a brief chill.
Ryu Cheong-woo immediately nocked the next shot. He pulled the string and let it fly.
Thwack.
And the next arrow.
“Hyung?”
His speed gradually increased. The sensation of the grip in his palm and the smooth, cold touch of the arrow between his fingers felt exactly the same as they always had.
Even the slight throbbing ache was identical.
But the target was far too close.
‘This much is…’
It was too easy.
Comfortable, simple…
It didn't feel right.
‘A little further.’
Ryu Cheong-woo took a step back.
“…!”
“Shh.”
The surrounding sounds reached his ears but went uninterpreted, naturally fading into the background.
Sensation came first.
He aimed the string at the yellow circle, which had grown smaller again.
Yet, it was still large.
Ping.
And so it continued. Arrows pulled from the quiver at his hip tore fiercely through the air with powerful elasticity.
Once more.
And again.
Ping.
Release.
Ryu Cheong-woo moved his hands as if in a trance. The bow was drawn in his grip as if following a rhythm or a flow.
He kept reaching down to his hip for a new arrow.
Until at some point, his hand swiped through empty air.
“…….”
He lowered his gaze.
The quiver was empty.
Ryu Cheong-woo raised his head and focused his gaze on the distance ahead.
The yellow dot was no longer visible.
“…….”
45 meters ahead.
The yellow target was densely packed with white fletching.
*
“Hyung-nim, you’re seriously insane.”
“You’re not human.”
“Haha.”
Ryu Cheong-woo laughed, looking a bit embarrassed, but he answered while habitually stroking an arrow.
“It’s just because the distance was short.”
“40 meters is short?!”
He looked at ease.
His face made it impossible to believe he was the one who had just pulled off that crazy feat. I turned my head to steal a glance at the target he’d shot.
“…….”
About twenty arrows were bristling inside the yellow zone, packed tight.
And the closer they got to the center circle—the 10-point zone—the denser they became.
‘Is he insane?’
The sight was like looking at a piece of modern art, leaving me speechless.
Moreover, his power was so great that not a single arrow had bounced off. I suppressed a groan when I saw an arrow that had wedged itself right between previous ones.
‘If the owner saw this, they’d definitely suspect he’s a pro.’
Still, they didn't seem to have recognized TeSTAR. We should get out of here as soon as the rental time is up. Before we run into them and they start asking who we are.
Even as I reached that pragmatic conclusion, I found myself looking at Ryu Cheong-woo in a new light.
It had been nearly ten years since he quit being an archer. In that time, aside from a few variety shows, he probably hadn't had any time for proper archery training.
‘And yet he can still do this.’
It was like how someone who learns to skate as a kid can still do it well twenty years later.
More than anything…
“Hyung-nim, this is more fun than I thought. Should we shoot a few more before we go?”
“Ah, shall we?”
He seemed to be feeling a sense of exhilaration from the situation as well.
It wasn't overtly obvious, but his face looked somewhat lighter and more stable.
The traces of gloom and confusion he’d shown over the past few days had vanished in an instant.
‘…This was a better choice than the shooting range.’
I acknowledged this as I watched Bae Se-jin and Seon A-hyun eagerly receiving advice from Ryu Cheong-woo.
But instead of joining them, I slipped over to Kim Rae-bin.
“Rae-bin.”
“Yes!”
I slung an arm around his shoulder.
For the record, this isn't something I do often.
“…?”
As he looked at me with a bit of confusion, I whispered quietly.
“You knew the shooting range was closed beforehand, didn't you?”
“…….”
I heard a hiccup.
I knew it.
“Did you keep your mouth shut just to lead us naturally to this archery range?”
“T-tha…”
“That?”
“That is correct…!”
Watching him confess as if he were being interrogated, I let out a short laugh. Then I gave his back a light pat.
“…?”
“I’m not scolding you.”
Why would I, when the result is this good?
It wasn't just a random shot in the dark; it was obvious from his face that he’d put an immense amount of thought into this.
“It looks like you chose this after a lot of deliberation. What was your intention?”
“Ah…!”
Kim Rae-bin’s face relaxed slightly, and his expression shifted from touched to serious.
He answered after thinking it over carefully.
“…I chose it by reflecting on my own experience.”
Experience, huh.
“Actually, I’ve been thinking for a while that Cheong-woo hyung has changed a bit. There were several instances where he made negatively meaningful remarks….”
“…?”
I almost blurted out, ‘You noticed that?’
But I understood after hearing his next words.
“Perhaps because I have also experienced several slumps, I felt a similar sense of dissonance when Cheong-woo hyung spoke.”
“…….”
‘So that’s why he said he reflected on his own experience.’
Do you know when a person’s intuition becomes the sharpest? It’s when someone else is in a situation similar to their own.
Even if Kim Rae-bin is a bit insensitive to subtle human psychology, this was no exception.
Because he had recently suffered through a similar pain.
The situation where you can't do what you’re good at the way you want to.
And in his case, it was both producing and stage performance.
And he had overcome both.
“Of course, I did not assume that everyone recovers in the same way I do, and I fully took into account that I might be making a hasty judgment…!”
Yeah, I don't doubt that.
“So, after much deliberation, your conclusion was this place?”
“Yes.”
Kim Rae-bin’s eyes sparkled slightly.
“Every time I faced a slump or trauma, what I ultimately needed was… an experience.”
Kim Rae-bin clenched and unclenched his hand.
“The feeling of physically sensing, ‘I can do this.’”
“…….”
“When I directly experienced a counterexample that was completely different from my worries, anxieties, and sense of defeat, I was able to break out of my slump.”
That’s true.
—I was worried, but I actually did well when I tried it!
Kim Rae-bin carefully confessed that he wanted to give that sense of relief to Ryu Cheong-woo as well.
“So… I thought that if it’s difficult for Cheong-woo hyung to experience the stage directly right now, perhaps he could try it in a similar form….”
And that was archery.
He wanted to induce Ryu Cheong-woo to directly challenge the very thing he had given up on because of the same left arm injury.
‘…Come to think of it, the injured area overlapped too.’
Anyway, in the midst of that, Kim Rae-bin had discovered the Inheart notice about the shooting range being closed today all by himself. And after deep thought, he had made his decision.
“To cautiously suggest going to the archery range instead.”
Kim Rae-bin, who said he had even meticulously considered that the distance would be shorter than for professionals—making it a piece of cake for Ryu Cheong-woo—finally seemed a bit relieved.
“Of course, if Cheong-woo hyung had shown a negative reaction, I planned to immediately apologize for my mistake and turn back…!”
“But there was no need for that.”
“…Yes.”
Because Ryu Cheong-woo had walked right into the archery range.
To be honest, I had been worried about how Ryu Cheong-woo would react too.
“You made the most insightful and best judgment out of all of us. Good job.”
“…….”
Kim Rae-bin took a breath as if he were about to tear up.
It seemed he had been quite worried in his own way before taking this gamble. Especially since he hadn't asked for permission from the others in detail.
‘He probably didn't have time for that when the moment came.’
Regardless.
“I’m glad Cheong-woo hyung seems to be enjoying himself.”
Indeed.
“Truly… I think that feeling of ‘I can do it’ is important.”
I quietly nodded at Kim Rae-bin’s words.
Well, whether or not it helps with the symptom of his left arm freezing on stage, it will at least help him feel more at ease during this period.
Doing something he likes and is good at will be good for his mental health.
“Hyung, can you shoot an arrow while turning around backward too?”
In the end, after making full use of the archery range that day, Ryu Cheong-woo decided to visit periodically and pick up the bow again at the members' suggestion.
“It’s quiet and there are no people, so it’s perfect for relaxing.”
“Yeah.”
Good teamwork.
I nodded, feeling a pleasant sense that the situation was being resolved.
Of course, I got blindsided not long after.
*
===================
[Ryu Cheong-woo’s insane archery skills]
Is this guy even human? lol (Screenshot)
===================
“We got caught.”
Ah, dammit.
I looked at the post on social media.
The owners of the archery range definitely hadn't recognized us. That was certain, as it had been verified by me, Keun Se-jin, Cha Yu-jin, and Bae Se-jin.
The problem here was… as expected, Ryu Cheong-woo’s hedgehog-like target.
It seemed the owner had mentioned to their family in passing that some customers like that had visited…
—Is this for real? Where did you get this?
└ My family runs an archery range, and when I checked the CCTV, it turned out to be TeSTAR lol
Before long, some punk—who knows if it was a nephew, son, or daughter—had gone out of their way to dig through the CCTV and post it on Inheart.
‘A typical attention-seeker….’
Of course, it was taken down after getting blasted for invasion of privacy, but things posted on the internet never truly disappear.
—So Ryu Cheong-woo was doing archery while on hiatus, hmm..
—I thought he was sick, is it okay to do this?
A few of those predictable reactions were visible…
Keun Se-jin, who showed me the screen, shrugged.
“Hmm~ I don't think it’ll be a big problem.”
“Yeah.”
I agreed.
To be honest, this was a side effect I had already anticipated when I encouraged Ryu Cheong-woo to go to the archery range regularly.
‘It’s not like I’ve only been an idol for a day or two.’
And I could see how this controversy—if you could even call it that—and these few negative remarks would play out.
‘At most, some ridiculous nonsense will circulate for a bit and then die down.’
—Tsk tsk, he’s shooting arrows while on hiatus. Has he lost his rookie mindset? I guess he just wants to live his life doing hobbies now.
—I thought he was sick, but he looks perfectly fine lol
I expected it to be around that level, and from the looks of it, even this would likely fizzle out after surfacing briefly.
‘The kid is actually sick, so what do you want him to do?’
This is the power of one’s usual conduct.
—Ryu Cheong-woo is resting because of anxiety symptoms. He’s not physically injured, so are the people foaming at the mouth over him shooting arrows even human?;;;
—No, seriously, are patients with panic disorder, acrophobia, or depression supposed to just stay locked in their rooms doing nothing? lol
—It’s not drinking, smoking, clubbing, or even problematic socializing. It’s a rare sight to see people hating on a healthy and productive hobby.
—K-pop idols, what an extreme profession.
The people who tried to latch onto this as if they’d found a scandal were instead getting criticized in reverse.
Honestly, this much is fine. It’s a daily occurrence.
Or…
“We could even flip the public opinion entirely.”
“Oh?”
Something like this.
—He’s doing it for rehabilitation ㅠㅠ Imagine how hard it must have been to start again after quitting due to the aftereffects of an injury.
We could frame it as being part of his psychological therapy.
‘It’s not a lie.’
I could easily handle this by making up a plausible story on my end. There was no need for it to even reach Ryu Cheong-woo’s ears.
Keun Se-jin nodded coolly.
“Okay. Then shall we go with that?”
“Tha…”
I was about to say yes, of course.
“…….”
“……Mundae-Mundae?”
In an instant, my mouth shut.
It was because the thought that this wasn't right suddenly flashed through my head.
‘What is it?’
Why am I like this?
This is a conclusion that couldn't be any easier. Isn't it the perfect answer that allows Ryu Cheong-woo to focus on his yips treatment without worrying about useless things?
And yet, something felt off.
“Wait.”
I eventually held up a hand and pondered the cause of my unease.
The words I’d heard before swirled in my mind.
The members worrying about Ryu Cheong-woo’s symptoms, the voices offering their own opinions on the cure.
—I think… to escape from problems like anxiety or suddenly losing confidence in oneself… a turning point is important.
A turning point.
And…
—It’s like… like a dam breaking… that feeling of suddenly realizing, ‘Ah, I’m okay,’ and being able to do it again.
The feeling that you can do it.
“…….”
—The feeling of physically sensing, ‘I can do this.’
“Mundae-Mundae, then for now I’ll just take care of it on my own…”
“No.”
“Huh?”
“I don't think that’s it. Hold on.”
I got up from the living room and walked down the hallway.
“Mundae?”
I think I’ve been misunderstanding something until now.
—You told me to rest.
—I shouldn't… make you worry and be anxious like that.
—So I have to listen….
I thought Ryu Cheong-woo was bothered by the worries of those around him, and that being swayed by them made him suffer more.
But the thing is.
‘Was he… originally the type of guy to just blindly follow other people’s opinions?’
I get that he cares about the people around him and tries to be considerate.
But usually, while he listens well to others, he never bends his own stubbornness or pride.
In that case, where did that intense rejection come from?
He hated the content of what was being said.
“Hyung.”
“…!”
I threw open Ryu Cheong-woo’s door with a single knock.
Even though it was late at night, he hadn't gone to sleep yet, matching the sleep patterns of the other guys. His eyes widened.
“Mundae-ya?”
Cha Yu-jin also looked up from beside him, but I ignored him and showed Ryu Cheong-woo the posts that had just appeared online.
“This is….”
“These kinds of things are being said.”
I sat down nonchalantly on the edge of the bed.
“It probably won't be a big deal, but I wanted to prepare just in case.”
“What kind of…”
“Hyung, how about you start coming with us for stage schedules that aren't live broadcasts?”
“…….”
The expression vanished from Ryu Cheong-woo’s face.
“What if I stop on stage?”
“It’s not a live broadcast, so it doesn't matter. An announcement has already been made anyway, so there’s no need to worry about rumors.”
“…….”
Now I knew.
“And from what I’ve seen so far,”
This guy… he hated hearing the words, ‘You won't be able to do it.’
“There’s nothing wrong with you, Hyung. The stage will turn out fine.”
Instead, I had to say this.
“Because you’ve always been great at what you do.”