And So, the Dorm Life Begins
The next day. I got a good night’s sleep for the first time in a while. It was probably thanks to the relief of knowing I’d completely erased the dimensional rifts. Things had gotten a little weird when Ji Seoeun and Yu Hana barged in, but that was just a minor detail. The real priority had been the rifts. Of course, there were still a few suspicious loose ends on that front, but they were beyond my control. Worrying about them wouldn’t solve anything, so there was no point. At least I’m not the kind of person who gets passionately hung up on problems I can’t fix. I’d do what I could, and if that wasn’t enough, I’d think about it again when the time came.
“For now, I should focus only on the debut. That side feels pretty precarious too.”
I was going through the house one more time, tidying up. The unused rooms would soon have owners, so I wanted to be ready. There wasn’t much to do, though. Despite how she looked, Na Yeri had always been surprisingly diligent about housework. The place was already spotless.
For the record, Ji Seoeun had gone back to her own home as soon as morning came. She needed to pack if she was moving in today. The moving luggage of a deranged materialization user (feat. space battleship). I was honestly a little afraid of what kind of nightmare might come tumbling out.
“They should be arriving soon.”
Right on cue, the doorbell rang. Curious to see which member had shown up first, I hurried to open the door—only to find a company employee instead. And judging by the camera mounted on his shoulder, he was here to film the members’ glorious(?) move into the dorm.
“We’re filming already?”
“Yes. The CEO said the more pre-debut footage we have, the better. Don’t be nervous—just act like you normally would.”
“Oh. Really?”
Act like I normally would? That didn’t seem like it would produce anything usable. Pre-debut awkwardness between members could be decent content, but in our case it was a bit too extreme. At least I’d opened up a little with Ji Seoeun, so maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as before. Still, I was uneasy. Since the company were the experts when it came to broadcasting and the entertainment industry, I figured I should just follow their lead for now.
“Looks like I’m first.”
“Yeah, you are. Welcome to the dorm?”
“Hmm. It’s better than I expected.”
“Is it?”
“It is much better than the small room I used to live in.”
“Then I’m glad. Want to wait in the living room until the others get here?”
“I will do that.”
“Something to drink? Coffee? Cocoa?”
“By any chance…”
“You have a specific request?”
“Is sujeonggwa possible?”
“…We don’t have any.”
“What a shame. Coffee will suffice.”
The first member to arrive was Tasha. Her full name was Anastasia Sergeyevna Lyubelyov. The profile only listed ‘Anastasia Lyubelyov,’ but apparently the complete version included the patronymic ‘Sergeyevna.’ It meant she was Sergey’s daughter. Patronymics were a unique part of Russian culture. No wonder names from that region were ridiculously long—they stuck weird things in the middle.
For a foreigner, Tasha’s Korean was surprisingly fluent. The only real issue was how stiff her speech was. Her pronunciation was actually excellent, and I remembered being impressed by it at first. The problem was that her tone felt far too familiar to me. It reminded me of the female soldiers from the first timeline. I suspected it might be a form of PTSD.
Tasha usually barely spoke, but since it was just the two of us, she kept opening her mouth. Comments about the dorm being better than expected, questions about whether we had sujeonggwa. Seeing someone who normally kept her lips sealed and only focused on training suddenly chatting felt strangely novel. Maybe the company staff had given her some pointers. At this rate, the footage probably wouldn’t be completely unusable, which was a relief.
Still, her tastes were undeniably unique. Even though we’d all be living here together now, it still felt like someone else’s house emotionally, yet she immediately asked for sujeonggwa. It was a drink with very particular appeal, and the fact that the person asking wasn’t even Korean but Russian made it even more absurd. I knew choco pies and cup ramen sold well over there, but sujeonggwa was completely new information. It had to be Tasha’s personal preference. She seemed more interesting than I’d given her credit for.
The conversation suddenly died. We didn’t know each other well, so it was inevitable. This was awkward as hell. I wasn’t exactly a social butterfly either, so I had no idea how to fill the silence. If only Yu Hana were here… They say even dog shit has its uses, but that girl was worse than dog shit.
“Oh, someone’s here.”
The doorbell rang again, cutting through the heavy silence. Good. Another person should improve the atmosphere a little. I sighed inwardly and headed to the entrance to greet the newcomer.
“Is this the right place?”
“Ah, you’re here.”
“Na Yeri? Yes. You mentioned Na Yeri was already living here, correct?”
“Yeah.”
“Then could you open the large window on the veranda?”
“The window? Why?”
“The luggage needs to come through.”
The second member to appear was Seong Jiyeong. As the conversation just now demonstrated, she used polite speech with the other members too. It was like a built-in honorifics trait. At least her character was consistent. I’d initially thought she was deliberately being formal because things felt awkward, but lately it seemed that was simply how she talked. I’d checked multiple times, and she insisted it was more comfortable for her, so there wasn’t much I could do. I couldn’t force her to speak casually. It did create a bit of distance, but since she never demanded others use honorifics just because she did, I’d gotten used to it.
“You even called a moving company?”
“Not a company. An acquaintance. I have rather a lot of luggage, so I asked for help.”
“Ugh, hang on.”
I opened the veranda window wide as requested and started taking in the luggage. I’d wondered what could possibly require this level of effort, but with this much it really would have been impossible to carry alone. Besides, the apartment elevator wasn’t very big.
“That’s… quite a lot?”
“I heard we could use the existing furniture. So I only brought clothes and a few necessities.”
“Oh, really?”
All those boxes were clothes? I cracked one open and found that despite the size, the actual contents weren’t that substantial. Just as Seong Jiyeong said, most of it was clothing. But not ordinary clothing. Were these the kind handmade stitch by stitch by Italian artisans? Looking at them that way, they definitely gave off an expensive vibe. Of course, that was just my guess—I didn’t have the eye to tell for sure. Still, the fact that they’d used massive boxes to protect them from wrinkles proved they weren’t normal items. And judging by the number of boxes, she had clearly brought far too many clothes. Was she planning to build a dressing room in the dorm? I never imagined anyone would haul this much to a debut-group dorm that would only be used for the early stages, so I was a little taken aback.
But even the clothing boxes were just the appetizer. The real main course was the enormous kimchi refrigerator coming up behind them.
“That’s… a kimchi refrigerator? It looks brand new.”
“Yes. I’m rather particular about this if nothing else. I was told there wasn’t one in the dorm.”
“There isn’t. But do we really need to bring that in? We probably won’t be eating many meals here.”
“Even when the company provides meals, I bring my own kimchi separately.”
“Ah, so that’s why…”
Most Koreans love kimchi. Seong Jiyeong, however, seemed especially picky and only ate her own. That was why she’d brought a dedicated kimchi fridge—she clearly planned to store her personal supply in it. From my perspective, it wasn’t a bad thing. We were relying on the company for every meal right now, but once we started proper activities there would be plenty of mornings when we’d need to eat at home before leaving. Having kimchi available would definitely make things easier. Anyone who’s lived in a dorm or alone knows how hard it is to keep kimchi on hand. Making it yourself is basically a pipe dream, and buying it has its own problems. Proper kimchi is surprisingly expensive. The cheaper options always seem to contain some Chinese ingredient, and as everyone knows, China is… well, China. Especially when it comes to food ingredients. The most Chinese thing about China is Chinese ingredients. But since Seong Jiyeong had gone to the trouble of bringing a whole refrigerator, she clearly wouldn’t bring anything weird. We could just enjoy the benefits. She wasn’t the type to insist on eating the dorm’s kimchi alone while refusing to share.
Our Yonghui wouldn’t do that. Still, from an outsider’s perspective, this might look excessive when it airs. The clothes, the refrigerator—it was undeniably a bit over the top. If the editing was handled well, maybe it could come across as cute. Since the company was well-regarded in the industry, I could only hope they’d manage this part properly.
By the way, Seong Jiyeong really did seem to come from a wealthy family. I’d heard she entered through the investor route, so it made sense. I’d thought her personality was fine after seeing her as Yonghui, but living together might reveal hidden friction. A pampered daughter from a rich house might not adapt easily to group living.
“I’m heeere~”
“Arrived.”
Around the time Seong Jiyeong finished hauling everything up, Yu Hana and Ji Seoeun arrived. Yu Hana had three massive suitcases. Ji Seoeun had one suitcase and a single large box. I’d been worried Ji Seoeun might bring something bizarre, but it was surprisingly normal. The big box only contained two computers.
For reference, the member with the least luggage was Tasha. She had brought only one small suitcase. Whether it was her personality or not, even her belongings were as minimal as her speech.
“Now that everyone’s here, it finally feels like a real team.”
All the group members had arrived at the dorm. We’d be living together for the foreseeable future. The truly exhausting part was probably about to begin. There were still quite a few things we needed to decide today. But seeing everyone gathered like this, it really felt like we were finally getting started. The company’s decision to push for early dorm living seemed like the right call.