Shin Seo-ah 2
Seo-ah unnie was different from me in every way. If I was the type who shied away from attention, she was the complete opposite—the kind who thrived on it. And right now was no exception. While I was flustered by the soldiers, unnie wore a mischievous little-devil grin, like she was having the time of her life.
Leaning in close, she whispered to me with that face, "Since we're here, how about we put on a little comfort performance?"
"...Pardon?"
I blinked wide-eyed, glancing around nervously. This was a disaster waiting to happen. Performing without agency permission was a straight-up contract violation. And we were on vacation, no less.
"Of course not. We'd get an earful from the CEO."
"No worries there," she said, showing me her chat with him.
She'd already gotten the green light. But seriously, wasn't he being way too lenient? We were the flagship girl group of the agency, after all.
"See? All good now, right?"
"......"
I was at a loss for words. Truth be told, I wasn't thrilled. I'd never performed outside a proper set before. What if things got awkward? And more importantly, was there even a suitable space here? A division-sized base might have something, but this was just a battalion. The last thing I wanted was to sing in the middle of a dusty training field whipped by sandstorms.
"There's no way they'd have a proper stage for—"
At that moment, the sergeant who'd been quietly eavesdropping shot to his feet.
"For a performance? You can use the security education room! If you want, we can lend you all the event equipment too!"
We'd been whispering, but somehow he'd overheard and jumped in with a perfect solution, taking the lead like it was his own job.
"Hey, did you hear that?"
"She said performance, right?"
The soldiers outside must've caught wind too, because cheers erupted from all directions. No backing out now. With a sigh, I nodded.
"...Fine, let's do it."
I knew better than anyone the hardships soldiers faced. If my humble performance could offer even a sliver of comfort, I wasn't against it.
"So, what song?"
"Our title track. We'll each double up on parts."
"I'll take Ju-hee unnie's part then."
We quickly divvied up parts and choreography on the spot. Meanwhile, the sergeant headed to the security room to set up the stage. He hadn't even been asked—he just dove in like it was his duty.
...He seemed more excited than the privates.
Before long, everything was ready. The sergeant guided us to the security room next to the barracks. It resembled a school auditorium, just smaller. A lot smaller. Half the size, maybe? The platform stage was even tinier—four members would've been a squeeze.
The setup was bare-bones: one sound system and two wireless mics. No other gear, not even an emcee.
It was lacking in every way, but no big deal. A true craftsman doesn't blame their tools.
Soon, soldiers poured in. About 150, give or take? They shoved and jostled for the front row.
For a battalion base, the crowd was sparse. Scale-wise, it was smaller than a high school talent show.
...Live shows thrive on audience energy, though. With so few people, I was a bit worried.
"Siyeon-ah, first time doing a comfort show?"
"Yeah. You?"
"Yep. A few times before you joined."
"Oh."
"Just a heads-up—don't freak out."
"About what?"
Was there something shocking about a stage this small? I tilted my head, and unnie grinned wickedly.
"You'll see once you're up there."
And see I did, the second we stepped on stage.
———!!
Whoa.
Maybe 150 tops, but the roar could rival a major concert hall. It was explosive. Or more like a primal howl? And we hadn't even started—no special tricks, just showing our faces.
"Told you it'd surprise you."
"...You're not kidding."
I'd underestimated soldiers. To them, this moment might mean more than just a show. I felt ashamed for ever thinking it was small potatoes.
Even on a tiny stage, we'd give it our all. Pros go full throttle every time.
That evening, the 1st Battalion was rowdier than usual.
An unscheduled girl group visit. Not all members, but the impact was leagues beyond a standard comfort show.
"Dude, A-Star really came by?"
"Yeah, even did a performance."
"Argh! Should've come back from leave sooner!"
"I was on duty then..."
Barracks everywhere buzzed with A-Star talk.
The culprit who'd brought them here—Corporal Shin Seo-woo—was cleaning the stairs alone.
...Seo-ah, give a heads-up next time.
Calling celebs without notice had earned him a scolding from the company commander.
Dude, you gotta tell me first. I would've come in on the weekend...
A mix of anger and regret. His punishment: solo stair duty.
Finishing up quietly, Seo-woo headed back to the barracks. 1st Battalion, 2nd Platoon. Not his original unit—he'd transferred here recently after a herniated disc diagnosis at the Armed Forces Capital Hospital. Lower training intensity.
Just wanna get through my service here okay.
But no one in 1st Battalion welcomed him. In the army, one person's slack becomes everyone else's burden. Who cheers a sick transfer?
Seo-woo opened the door silently, used to it.
Then—
"Seo-woo-ya."
Someone called his name warmly. Looking over, Platoon King Private First Class Joo Young-bin stood there. Seo-woo's eyes widened.
Here, juniors and seniors alike called him "old man." But now? His actual name, and approaching first.
"Your sister's a total babe."
"I thought you were lying this whole time, Corporal, but damn, respect."
"Can I get her number?"
"Quit it—don't aim for trees you can't climb."
Everyone treating him like a buddy. The small shift left him speechless. Then it hit him—why his sister had rushed over unannounced.
...Gotta buy her a nice meal next leave.
"Achoo!"
"Cold?"
"Someone must be badmouthing me."
Seo-ah unnie, sniffling and bundled in a blanket on the sofa, flicked the remote to a drama like she owned the place.
"Visited your bro—staying over?"
"Nah, dorm's creepy alone."
She planned to crash here the whole vacation. Blood sister's privilege—I couldn't kick her out. Coexistence it was.
"Got spare clothes?"
"Obviously."
A small bag in the living room corner—her overnight kit, packed from the dorm. Calculated.
"Showering first."
Grabbing clothes, I stripped in the bathroom. Rinsed under the stream, then sank into the tub. Daily fatigue melted away, loosening body and mind.
Nothing beats a half-bath for unwinding.
Relaxing deep in the water, the doorbell rang. From the living room, unnie chatted via intercom.
No one visits this late. I cocked my head.
"Seo-ah unnie? Who's that?"
"Your friend."
"My friend?"
"Yeah. Ga-young, I think."
"Ga-young?"
Couldn't go to school for weeks due to filming—probably checking if I was okay.
"Friend's cool, right? Opening up."
My heart dropped. Alone, fine—but unnie was here. And Ga-young was an A-Star diehard. No way open that door.
"W-Wait!"
I bolted out, towel clutched around me.
"Don't open it!"