When the Leader is Away (5)
Back when they were kids, to Ayane, Tae-il was a hero who had saved her.
Tae-il could do anything.
"Teach me math?"
Studying was no different.
"Geometry's my weak spot too... hold on."
He claimed it was his weakness, but whenever Ayane asked, he'd rack his brain and patiently clear up her doubts, teaching her step by step from the very basics.
"Got it now?"
When Tae-il checked, Ayane would beam and nod vigorously. Tae-il would smile proudly in return.
It was amazing. He barely studied, yet his grades were always top-tier. To Ayane, that made him incredible.
"Soccer? I'm not great at soccer either...."
Hmm. On second thought, he wasn't omnipotent. He had zero talent for sports—total klutz.
"Taichi! No, like this! One-two! One-two! One-two! Three-four!"
"L-like this?"
"No!"
The music teacher pounded their chest in frustration watching Tae-il dance completely off-beat without a care. "You're great with instruments, so why the hell are you so hopeless at dancing?!"
"Uh, yeah?"
"How do you not know?!"
He even botched the simple rhythmic exercises in music class, earning laughs from everyone. But once class ended, Ayane scurried right over to him.
"Shin-zzang, you okay?"
She worried if he was hurt, but Tae-il just grinned like it was nothing.
"Haha. I'm fine. Don't care what anyone says. The kid who used to bitch about how shitty they were at dancing back in the day... nah. Wanna practice together?"
"Y-yeah!"
Not everything, but Tae-il could usually pull off above-average results with quiet, steady practice. By his own standards, he had an edge in picking up skills faster than most. But Ayane, oblivious to that, just saw him plugging away at his shortcomings through hard work.
A lazy genius. Someone who could nail anything if he tried, but didn't. That's what little Ayane thought back then.
Still, it wasn't without positive effects. People can change with effort. Ayane, who wanted to change herself, started trying to shed her pathetic old self from that point on. Because a useless pushover like her didn't deserve Tae-il—no one would think otherwise.
She buckled down on studies to boost her grades. Gritted her teeth through the pain to mingle with others and conquer her social anxiety. Secretly researched Tae-il's tastes and started fixing up her looks bit by bit.
Over three years flew by. All that effort seemed for naught amid the turbulent years, but somehow, Ayane gained an epiphany.
"Help me out."
The world was unfair, after all.
"Help me out."
How much agonizing thought had gone into Iris saying that? Ayane couldn't even imagine.
Iris had sky-high pride. Too high, even. Ayane felt it keenly, regardless of how Iris saw herself. The casual jabs about grades whenever she teased Rena for being dumb—it was obvious.
Iris was a girl brimming with confidence and self-esteem that outshone anyone Ayane had ever met. An unbreakable princess atop an iron fortress. The only one who could match her shamelessness was probably Sakuya.
Rena? Ayane knew her type all too well. Just as Ayane depended on Tae-il, Honjo Rena was utterly at the mercy of Arisugawa Iris. Though lately, she seemed to be trying to break free.
Not easy.
Ayane was pretty self-aware. She was sensitive to others' opinions because she knew her own personality sucked. Of course, knowing didn't help when rationality evaporated around Tae-il.
Immutable law: Unless Shin Tae-il pushed her away first, Ayane could never leave him. Same for Rena. The Iris propping her up was a Goliath no David could topple.
But just as David eventually brought Goliath to his knees...
Ayane saw it. The lofty Iris, pretending otherwise, letting her guard down just a fraction.
"I'm different from you guys."
She never said it outright, but Iris always drew that line subtly. Even acting friendly and approachable, her vibe screamed superiority.
It's not that Iris is wrong. If Ayane grew up in her shoes, she'd probably act the same.
Iris was superior to everyone gathered here—unquestionably. If modern society had castes, she'd be nobility at least. A true princess with "hime" after her name.
Overwhelming. Money, looks, multifaceted talents. Iris was the all-around beauty Ayane envied to her core.
Ayane felt God's absence acutely through the unfair existence of Iris and Sakuya.
"Shin Tae-il promised me."
And that unfairness encroached on Ayane's love life.
"He'd stake everything to make me a major star."
A woman sharing the dreams of the man Ayane loved. Ayane quietly blocked her view. Betrayal? More like crushing emptiness.
Iris had stormed in, mocking all of Ayane's hard-earned progress, closing the gap in one breath. Her presence hit harder than Sakuya's forced intrusion.
"..."
Ayane's mind cooled to ice. Humans aren't perfect. If perfection existed, it'd be called God. Iris was perfect—too much for human company.
Yet the fact that she chose to abandon that perfection for humanity, all because of Tae-il... Ayane gripped her own wrist where it hugged her crossed legs.
"That Shin Tae-il guy told me."
Calm voice. But she couldn't hide the joy in her smile.
"He said I have talent."
Back then, Iris had been baffled. Some ordinary Korean boy—not much special besides that—declaring with 100% certainty, "You've got talent," and guaranteeing her success.
"God, even I cracked up hearing it."
No solid proof, just pure conviction. Totally understandable reaction.
"And you know his face when he said it?"
No trace of manly confidence—just anxiety etched in his expression and voice. Zero believability.
"But here's the weird part?"
Iris tilted her head shyly, arms on her knees.
"I actually changed because of what he said."
"Changed?"
"Yeah."
Iris nodded happily.
"Shin Tae-il called my vocals perfect, but that's just from an outsider's view."
Unlike what Ayane thought, Iris was human too. She grew. Her late mother taught her to sing before she could even babble properly. Unable to take formal lessons under Zenjiro's watch, her next coach was stage idol Izumi. Obsessing over BARD, mimicking them, she'd skyrocketed as a vocalist.
But that was also her limit. Until deciding to band with Tae-il—then something miraculous happened. Post-festival, handling her shrinking emotions got easier. Confidence flooded her voice. Her innate flair bloomed anew.
Iris chuckled.
"Shin Tae-il probably thought that was just my baseline skill."
The subtle expressiveness Tae-il noticed was new to her past self. Dead dreams and hopes revived. Maybe what she needed was someone else's faith.
Regaining her crushed pride, her confidence pierced the heavens, mocking the world.
"I seriously thought I could debut solo like this. I mean, I'm obviously amazing, right?"
"Ugh, your self-praise is so cringey."
Iris buried her face in her arms, giggling at Rena's jab.
"Rena-zzang's right. I was kinda obnoxious."
"'Kinda'?"
Rena nodded at the two across from her. Sakuya wore an expression like she'd tasted shit—hard to verbalize. Ayane was... dead serious. Her aura defied any other description.
Iris apologized.
"Sorry. Cut me some slack. I don't even know what I'm saying right now."
"One more and I'll die of stress."
"If it's from me, isn't that a win?"
"Sakuya, go ahead and hit her. I give permission."
"Ahaha, she'd die though...?"
"You guys are too much!"
Rena tried to lighten the mood.
Anyway.
Iris's point was simple. And it hit Ayane like a critical blow.
"I've become dependent on Shin Tae-il. Psychologically."
Ayane's heart lurched. Of all people, the supreme Iris had grown dependent on Tae-il. Ayane ground her teeth.
"Katsuragi?"
Only Sakuya beside her heard.
"Truth is, the solo debut thing was bullshit. Reality's brutal."
The very idea stemmed not from Iris, but Tae-il's assessment.
In short...
"I was still doubting myself."
Having endured mental paralysis, Iris evaluated herself more coldly than anyone.
"Conclusion was simple."
Doubting it at all was laughable. Iris self-mocked.
"Opposite of Tae-il's take. I can't do it alone."
That's why she'd considered a duo debut with him as worst-case.
"So Iris, with Shin-zzang..."
"Eh, no biggie. Just hold him accountable. He planted impossible dreams in a poor girl."
"That's too..."
"Unfair, right? I know. Separate from Ayane liking Shin Tae-il, I'm being unreasonable."
"Mmm..."
Ayane grimaced uncomfortably. Sorry to a hard-won friend, but Iris had no choice.
Papa pushed me this far.
Her engagement loomed closer. Zenjiro and the family elders kindly reminded her constantly. Remember, you're Arisugawa property.
[Sis! You're secretly getting engaged!? That's too much!]
Her Kyoto cousin's message hammered it home—no escape.
Iris declared resolutely.
"I'm breaking free."
Animals have wild instincts. "I want to fly." Iris was a bird who'd forgotten how in her cozy cage. Out alone, she'd die—couldn't even hunt.
But a boy awakened one forgotten instinct. The girl stepped from the open cage, soaring under moonlit skies.
"And to be free, I'll get famous."
Climb. To a height no one can touch.
"I..."
She closed her eyes. She remembered the caged bird's fate. Lonely. Never properly flapping, drifting to death.
That day. On the moonlit veranda.
"Mama?"
Her dazzlingly beautiful mother's smile flickered.
"Hehe. Don't end up like Mama, Iris."
"Like Mama?"
She nodded slowly.
"Yeah. Don't bottle it up inside. Chase what you love without hesitation—live freely."
"Yeah! I will!"
"Good. You deserve to."
In a way, her mother's final wish. But Iris still lived watching eyes. Sneaking out, but always back on time.
No more.
For the fool composing just for her, it was time to decide. Betray family or boy—which weighed heavier with guilt?
Her heart's scale tipped to the boy.
"I'll ditch the family soon."
Maybe leaving the safe fence wasn't happy. Greenhouse flower, naive noble daughter untouched by storms.
Still.
"No more getting sacrificed for family bullshit."
Money, home, all lost? Fine. Iris chose freedom.
By Tae-il's timeline, a year away—but decided today.
I must look so weird.
Her face burned with belated shame. In the 21st century of democracy, a young girl cries for freedom. Unfathomable to normals.
It's fine.
Even if they stared oddly. Delay, and her resolve would waver.
Above all.
Shin Tae-il will believe in me to the end.
This was her declaration of war. A manifesto to her compliant self.
Her path to freedom bristled with obstacles, like Zhuge Liang's northern expeditions.
She'd once given up breaching them.
No more. She knew the way out now.
"Might sound shameless, but I need your help."
Iris looked at her members.
"My original goal was just major debut—to make Papa recognize my worth."
Not as family tool, but as human Iris.
But she knew: Bands debut major, then vanish without a hit, piling like autumn leaves.
Mere debut wouldn't sway Zenjiro dramatically.
She had to succeed. For her radiant singer dreams. For this freedom.
"And I need your power for that."
Iris scanned them. Pitiful girls bitten by Tae-il's fangs—but Rena, Sakuya, even Ayane weren't dime-a-dozen talents. They'd shine in idols over bands.
Guaranteed success elsewhere, yet here trusting just Tae-il—maybe Iris too.
That made her trust them more.
With these girls, we might really...
She'd doubted Tae-il's eye from the start. Now, she'd been convinced by it. His baseless faith tipped her scales.
"I'll repay you for sure."
Even issuing a blank check unplanned.
In the leaderless space. Where she could only ask without him.
"Help us succeed as a band."
Iris pleaded more earnestly than ever.