The Gifts and the Letters
These days I tend to go around empty-handed, but before I met An-gae, it had been quite different. People used to whisper things like Why does he carry such a huge bag everywhere? — I carried that much stuff around.
The big bag, big enough that I wouldn't have been able to argue if someone called me a pack mule, held all sorts of things. Antiseptic for washing out wounds, ointment, bandages. Stain remover for wiping away blood or mud, wet wipes, too.
Back before An-gae, my days were such that I saw blood at least once a day.
Of course, the tools weren't enough to treat a wound bad enough to tear the skin open. The school infirmary had most of what you'd need for that anyway.
Even so, the reason I carried all of the above with me every single day was because I wanted to let everyone know something. That I was always prepared.
"I've been using this brand's hand sanitizer for years, actually. When I heard it got renewed recently, I went back and forth on whether I should buy it…"
The hand sanitizer was for the same reason. At the time, there were a lot of kids who were reluctant to even touch me or handle my things.
I should have just let it slide, but I must have been pretty bitter about it, young as I was. So I spent half of my monthly allowance from the orphanage on that hand sanitizer.
Thanks to its quality ingredients, it was on the expensive side back then, just as it is now, but the detailed product description gave me something to believe in.
That maybe I, too, could become clean.
And that there was no need for people to avoid me. Or at least, that's what I wanted to tell them, I suppose.
Not like putting on hand sanitizer made the misfortune factors fall away, so it was a useless gesture anyway.
It was one of the things I stopped buying after I met An-gae. Still, call it lingering attachment or greed… when I heard the renewed version had come out, I did visit the website a few times.
How did he know about that?
I looked at Jeonghyun, who was peeking out from behind the camera. And at Jinbae, standing neatly beside him.
I really do have luck with people.
What did it matter now, how hard it had been, how unfair it had felt back then? I was living a life this blessed now.
A small laugh slipped out at the thought.
"Thank you so much. I'll use it well. Ah, yes. Let me open the second gift too."
After I'd gathered myself by glancing at the prompter, I opened another box.
"Oh, this—!"
The very first thing I saw was a pair of brand-new white sneakers. The way the sky-blue laces were tied with them felt familiar. Of course it did.
These are the ones Biyeon gave me, way back.
They no longer fit, so I kept them in a display case at home. Occasionally taking them out to look at in my spare moments was one of my small pleasures.
They're much bigger than the ones I have.
It seemed he'd prepared a new pair to fit my current size. I'd been about to smile and brag about them to Biyeon.
…Hold on.
The moment I lifted the sneakers, an odd feeling crept over me.
No way.
Ignoring that suspicious sensation, I picked the shoes up. And at the same time, my eyes landed on what remained in the box.
A despondent voice spilled out of me before I could help it.
"How much did you even spend on this…"
Besides the sneakers, the box held loafers, sandals, and a whole range of other shoes. Flustered, my mind blank on what to say, I hurriedly opened a different box.
"Wait, this—"
Every box was packed full. Hats, scarves, gloves, and other clothing, then bouquets, bracelets, wallets, and on and on.
For a moment I forgot the fans were watching and nearly gave Jeonghyun a piece of my mind. Then I opened the last box, and my breath caught.
"……"
The box was stuffed to the brim with letters — easily three hundred of them, if not more.
As I stood there silently staring at the letters, too precious to even dare touch, quiet applause rose from in front of me. When I lifted my head, I met a tender gaze.
"All of it was prepared by your fans. I paid for the gifts, but Biyeon picked them out — things they wanted to give you."
"……"
"Yeonjae. Don't tell me you forgot what I said before the shoot."
At Jeonghyun's words, I finally managed to nod.
Just enjoy today's broadcast, without a care in the world.
Right. I promised, didn't I. I should enjoy it.
But am I even allowed to enjoy this—
As it always did, guilt came creeping in on its own. And yet, before the letters filling my vision, it scattered into nothing.
My chest ached, tight and sore. Something swelled up inside me so fully that breathing felt a little stifled.
"Thank you…"
The corners of my mouth rose, slowly. Under normal circumstances, I would have been thinking, Am I really allowed to be this happy?
But as if determined to deny me even the smallest shred of guilt, a new emotion filled my heart to overflowing.
"Thank you."
I looked at the letters once more, tucked inside envelopes of every color. With my fingertips, I traced slowly across them. The more I repeated the motion, the more completely this unfamiliar feeling took hold of me.
"I'm…"
Facing the staff who were watching me in the stillness, my hyungs, and the fans beyond the camera, I said,
"…I think I'm incredibly happy right now."
When I came back to my senses, I was already beaming.
We chattered away for another hour after that. I had no idea how the time was passing. Like a kid with a screw loose, I just kept smiling and rambling on.
The comments were still pouring in fast, but I was slowly getting used to it, and a question caught my eye.
"My favorite food? Hmm, let me think. Whatever my manager hyung cooks?"
I thought it over, then added, "But friends come over to my place a lot, and I feel bad always asking my manager hyung, so we order pizza pretty often."
Pineapple pizza, huh.
"I eat pretty much anything. All pizza's delicious…. But Ijune hyung absolutely hates pineapple pizza."
Pineapples are juicy fruit, so I'd naturally assumed he'd like them. I first saw Seong Ijun's expression of utter disgust when I ordered a pineapple pizza.
Come to think of it, Haram doesn't like pineapple pizza either.
Did Americans just dislike pineapple on pizza?
"Ijune hyung says he hates when the pineapple's hot. What about you, Biyeon? Do you hate it too?"
Every question I tossed out came back with such rich, generous answers that I lost track of time entirely.
"You want me to do a pizza mukbang later? Um… I'll ask the company about it. But would that actually be fun to watch? I don't really talk when I eat."
"Oh. Got it."
I answered right away, bowled over by their odd but sheer force of will. Everyone was so charismatic. It was cool.
Just then, the staff pointed at the prompter. I looked over to find that the heart count had exceeded two hundred million.
What are hearts?
I had no idea, but the staff's faces were all bright, so I opened my mouth without quite thinking.
"Everyone, the heart count has passed two hundred million. Um… that's a good thing, right? Yes. Apparently it's very good. I'm so happy."
Truthfully, I couldn't be properly happy about something I didn't understand.
We talked about plenty of other things for a while, and then I asked, trying to sound casual,
"By the way, who's sending all these hearts? Is it something the platform officials select?"
Was it like listed shares or something?
I thought I'd asked without giving anything away, but apparently I'd given away plenty. Reading the flood of comments that surged in, I realized the fans were pressing the hearts with their own fingers, one by one.
"Oh, thank you. But please stop now. You'll hurt your fingers."
When they said they'd been tapping until their fingerprints might wear off, I started to frown, then hastily smoothed it out. Whatever the case, they were doing it for me — I couldn't scold them for it.
"Really, thank you. But you can stop now, okay? I've already received so many hearts. They've all reached me just fine, so it'd make me even happier if you rested your hands."
The word reaction puzzled me for a second, then it clicked, and I immediately formed a finger heart.
Good thing I practiced with Bihyeok.
Bihyeok had once said I'd thank him someday — and he'd been right. As I smoothly rolled out version after version of hearts, the comments started scrolling even faster.
After that, I showed them one by one, patiently, each of the poses Biyeon asked for. It wasn't out of any sense of burden or obligation.
It's just a few movements to copy.
Seeing people so much happier about it than I'd expected made me happier in turn.
I should stream more often from now on.
Once I got a little more used to it, I'd be able to turn one on by myself, like the SPACE members did.
Somewhere in the middle, I noticed comments like Something's behind you. and I think a ghost just walked past., and tilted my head for a moment.
"Do you all believe in ghosts?"
How cute.
A laugh slipped out of me before I knew it. "Me, I'm kind of neutral about it. It's less that I believe or don't believe, and more that I just don't think about it much."
After all, An-gae was a youkai — surely ghosts existed too.
But I didn't really care either way. If they existed, they existed.
"Yes. I watch horror and thrillers just fine. You remember I played a shaman on the variety show Mission Clear a while back, right? I watched horror movies as reference for that."
Well, to be precise, I'd played Kim Suho — a kid who swindled people while pretending to be a shaman.
Come to think of it, there had been quite a bit of talk among the staff back when we filmed Mission Clear.
"There was that scene where the members, right as they arrived, see a female ghost standing in the window of the Gray Building, right?"
The dinner gatherings had been buzzing with what the actress who played the ghost said once filming wrapped.
"She said she was definitely the one filming it, but her memory of that moment was strangely hazy."
That she'd heard someone whispering in her ear. That she'd felt like she'd eaten something.
I relayed what I'd heard back then in a perfectly level tone, and the comments went into an uproar.
"Oh, was that scary? I'm sorry. I'll change the subject."
Flustered, I stumbled over my words. I racked my brain for something to talk about, and then text appeared on the prompter.
"Ah, yes. This is today's final content. Singing a song…? I'm singing?"
I barely had a moment to wonder at the sudden request before I was left gaping at the karaoke machine the staff were wheeling in. I quietly looked at Jeonghyun, and he was smiling with an air of deep satisfaction.
I snuck a look — the comments were in complete chaos. Biyeon's reaction was more explosive than I'd expected, and honestly, it surprised me a little.
I should have sung ages ago.
It wasn't that I had any particular resistance to singing. The problem was…
Is there an established canon for how Bambi behaves?
No, there wasn't. Ever since I picked up the nickname Bambi, I'd read every related anime and novel out there.
I was worrying over whether my singing might count as "out of character for Bambi" when it suddenly hit me.
Am I insane?
I wasn't actually a deer.
No, get a grip…. You're a human being.
My face flushed hot. Thank goodness I'd only thought it to myself.
It seemed the fans' love had made me lose my reason for a moment there. Biyeon didn't like me because they believed I was really Bambi.
If they liked the real Bambi, they'd just watch the anime.
I was a human, not a deer, to begin with.
They like me just because I'm me.
In other words, Biyeon liked me because I was Lee Yeonjae.
"……"
Without meaning to, I stood there blankly for a moment after the thought crossed my mind.