Courage Training
I set down the chopsticks I’d been using to pick up a scallop and opened my mouth wide at Kim Chul-min PD’s words.
“Huuuaaaahhhm!”
Anyone who saw me would think I was on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion. Acting… I had to wonder why I hadn’t realized what an excellent tool it was in my previous life.
“Mom said children of the new country should go to bed early.”
I rubbed my eyes as if I were sleepy, making sure not to forget to mumble while glancing at Mom. The main PD might be the boss, and the broadcasting station might be God Himself, but still.
I’m just a baby. Yoon Seo-ah. Eight years old. Old enough that if I throw a tantrum, the entire shoot could collapse.
“S-Seo-ah, this is super fun! It’ll wake you right up! Don’t worry!”
“That’s right, Seo-ah. After this, we’ll eat more meat? If you’re too full to eat, I’ll pack some for you!”
Therefore, it was perfectly normal for everyone to be tiptoeing around me. Whether they were treating me like an idiot or not, they kept saying the training would be “fun.” They were even trying to lure me with meat.
If they thought I would fall for something like this…
They were right.
“…What kind of meat?”
It was right after the dinner gathering. Even if courage training made me a little hungry, it probably wouldn’t be enough to warrant a full meal, and it was already late. Still, the writer’s offer to pack meat struck a chord in my heart.
She knew exactly how to handle me. That woman understood me far too well.
“Uwaaaaah! Nooooooo!”
“I don’t want to! It’s scary!”
“Ugh… I hate the dark at night.”
The other kids were all crying and making sad faces, while Min-jun simply seemed to dislike the night. As for Park Si-hoo… he had gone completely pale and couldn’t even speak.
I didn’t particularly want to make the staff suffer because of me, so I confirmed my participation. It was absolutely not because of the packed meat. Really.
While the writing team persuaded and comforted the children, the other staff members set up the equipment and prepared for the group draw. Whether they were truly comforted or not, the kids eventually stood in front of the cameras. Kim Chul-min PD let out a sigh of relief.
Filming began.
Taking over for the frozen Park Si-hoo, I continued the opening.
“Hello, little rascals. I’m Squad Leader Yoon Seo-ah.”
If Park Si-hoo jumped in to steal screen time or if the squad members were noisily chattering, the opening would have some flavor. But today, everyone was strangely quiet.
“Should we do a three-line poem with ‘rascal’? Give me the first syllable!”
“…Rascal?”
The production crew all looked flustered by the sudden three-line poem. It couldn’t be helped. The kids were all stiff, and the opening was on the brink of failure. I had come in as the so-called MC, and I was a professional getting paid for this. When it was time to deliver, I had to deliver.
“Hello, little rascals?”
“…Rascal.”
Park Si-hoo started staring at me with eyes that clearly asked what the hell I was suddenly doing. The three-line poem was working.
“I’m Yoon Seo-ah, in charge of loveliness!”
I winked, brought my palm to my lips, and blew a kiss toward the camera. I didn’t even need to look to know. This look was pure loveliness itself.
The frozen squad members slowly began to smile. The camera directors clutched their hearts as if they were having heart attacks. The anxious voices gradually turned into ones filled with anticipation.
““Gi!””
All the staff shouted the final syllable together.
“I’m also in charge of being an absolute cutie?”
With a finger heart, a cheek heart, and finishing with a hand heart. It was the kind of fan service that probably didn’t exist in this era yet. But I, Yoon Seo-ah, had always watched idols whenever I felt tired or depressed in my past life. I was also a pioneer who had shown the greatness of K-pop to super macho men overseas. So it was fine for me to do this. It wasn’t plagiarism. Probably.
“…Alright, we’ll now proceed with a fair drawing once again!”
Still, the embarrassment and shame were unavoidable. If I had done it in moderation, I could have held the camera’s gaze with a lingering, captivating look… but even I could tell I had gone overboard. It was pure juice overload. Enough to give someone diabetes.
Carrying the opening alone was harder than I thought. It was definitely not because I got drunk on my own cuteness and unconsciously poured on the excessive aegyo.
‘Of course not. I’m not the narcissistic type.’
I brought over the old plastic bucket placed in front of me. It was the prop used for team draws during the mudflat Olympics. The balls inside rattled noisily.
Everyone just stared, swallowing hard. Not a single person stepped forward to say they would draw.
What shameless brats. After I had sacrificed my soul to carry the opening for them.
“You all seem really nervous. In that case, I’ll draw for you! First up, the Captain’s ball!”
“…W-why me first!”
“Because as Captain, you need to lead your team members more than anyone else, right?”
Park Si-hoo clasped his hands together and prayed, muttering as if begging to be teamed with Kim Min-jun.
“Red ball! Next is Squad Member Min-jun!”
When I casually pulled out the ball, he continued praying at twice the speed as before. The ball I drew for Kim Min-jun was blue. Park Si-hoo’s face turned ashen.
His plan to cling to the reliable-looking Kim Min-jun like a parasite had been shattered to pieces.
“Ah… no!”
Paying no attention to the parasite’s lament, I continued drawing. Ji-hye got a blue ball. Ro-un got a green one. By the way, green-ball Ro-un would have to go alone.
“Yes!”
Ji-hye, now on Min-jun’s team, cheered loudly. Ro-un wore a complicated expression. And Park Si-hoo… was being subtle.
He looked at me, then at the ball, then at the drawing bucket. Again, he looked at me, then the ball, then the production crew.
Was he trying to pick a fight? Staring that blatantly—wasn’t that a form of visual violence? Then wouldn’t it be okay for me to use violence against Park Si-hoo too? That would make it mutual. Kids normally fight as they grow up. This was an era where even if a kid came back with a broken arm after fighting, people would just say, “Ah, kids will be kids while playing.”
I clenched my fist tightly but soon relaxed it. No matter what, I couldn’t hit him with the cameras and staff watching openly. The only one I could beat up without restraint was my partner, Min-su.
“The last ball is obviously red even without drawing! I’m on the Captain’s team!”
“Haa…”
Park Si-hoo let out a deep sigh. His face was filled with despair. I ignored it.
The staff had moved to finish preparing for the courage training. According to the assistant director, the game would start in at most ten minutes. I had been planning to sit and rest, but the camera stayed on even during the wait. I guess I should tease Park Si-hoo.
“Captain… I’m actually really, really scared.”
I hunched my shoulders and pretended to sniffle. I made my eyes as watery as possible and lightly grabbed the hem of Park Si-hoo’s clothes.
“You’ll protect me, right? Yes?”
Then Park Si-hoo’s expression became subtle again. A strange sense of duty had settled over his previously despair-filled face. Was it the pride of a thirteen-year-old boy?
“Ahem, well, yeah. Just trust your oppa.”
The kid suddenly straightened his shoulders and started going on about being “oppa.”
‘…If he were about three years younger, he would’ve been cute.’
Thirteen-year-old boys were a bit gross.
“Wow! Captain, you’re so cool! I’ll trust you!”
I clapped like a seal and fanned the flames of his bravado. The type who acts all tough before leaving but turns into a total coward once they actually go—the classic variety show character. It was a cliché. In my past life, there was even a UFC fighter who blew up massively with this exact concept.
Park Si-hoo, I’ll make you a star.
“Alright! We’re ready! Red team starts first! Blue team, please wait about fifteen minutes before you begin!”
The assistant director gave the signal.
“Let’s go!”
“…?”
Park Si-hoo, who had boldly shouted “Let’s go,” was still standing in place. When I gave him a light push, he finally began taking one step after another.
We stepped into the pitch-dark path relying on a single flashlight. It was a trail close to a walking course, and all the paths branching off had been blocked with police-line tape, creating a reasonably safe zone.
‘I thought they’d just dump us at the foot of the mountain and tell us to survive on our own… They’re surprisingly humane?’
2002 really might be warmer than I expected.
“Y-Yoon Seo-ah. Don’t grab my clothes so tightly. They’ll stretch.”
“…Me?”
What was he saying when he was the one clutching my sleeve? Park Si-hoo walked ahead, continuing to act relaxed. I thought he was the type who cracked jokes to ease tension before a big mission, but he seemed more like a new recruit. It was cute. Even the way the flashlight beam trembled slightly was perfectly cowardly. The VJ beside us kept snickering.
As we kept walking, an owl’s hoot—hoo-hoo—came from somewhere. Park Si-hoo jumped in fright and yanked me toward him.
“Huuuaaaak!”
“….”
Somehow, I ended up in his arms.
“What? What is it?”
“Ahem. Were you scared?”
“…?”
Park Si-hoo shamelessly patted my shoulder. Should I kill him?
“Yes, yes. Thanks to you, Captain, my heart is now extra chewy. Let’s hurry up and go.”
We went deeper in search of the flag. A skull model hanging from a tree branch. A fake hand popping up from the ground. They were ridiculously childish devices, but to Park Si-hoo they seemed to be horror-maze level terror.
“Uwaaaaaaaaaah! Yoon Seo-ah! Don’t scream!”
“…?”
“Mommy! The ground! The ground! Yoon Seo-ah! The ground!”
“…?”
Screams erupted at roughly thirty-second intervals. My eardrums were suffering in real time. What I thought would be fun teasing of a loser turned out to be a path paved entirely with pain.
“The Captain’s screams are scarier than the ghosts.”
“S-shut up. That wasn’t a scream, it was a spirit shout! A spirit shout. Do you know what that is? A spirit shout is something our taekwondo instructor said…”
“Stop talking and walk faster.”
If he couldn’t even lead properly, he should at least follow. Since Park Si-hoo’s legs were shaking like jelly, I pushed him from behind.
“…Wasn’t this what the PD mentioned earlier? We’ve only done half so far?”
Before we knew it, we had reached about the halfway point of the course. The spot that had deliberately informed us it was the halfway mark. In other words, it meant a main-event-level jump scare was waiting.
And sure enough, with an eerie sound, red lights suddenly flashed on. A ghost wearing a white funeral robe slid out smoothly from behind a rock.
“Hehehehehe… Play with meeee…”
The eyes visible through the disheveled hair were quite striking. Still, this was ultimately a children’s variety show. It was crude and cheap. There was no blood makeup, and the realism was lacking. It felt like parents throwing a blanket over their heads and yelling “Kuaaaang! I’m a ghost!”
Most kids would probably laugh it off after seeing this. But Park Si-hoo’s reaction went beyond imagination. The kid nearly had a seizure as he stumbled backward and fell flat on his butt. Then he crawled on all fours and hid behind me.
He had said he was oppa. That he would protect me. It was clearly a scene that should have been scary, yet the ghost looked awkward, the VJ was laughing, and I let out a sigh.
The red team’s footage was ruined. At this rate, wouldn’t it all get edited out?
Since it was already ruined, I decided to drop the concept act.
“Writer-nim, you’ve worked hard.”
“…Huh?”
The writer who had been continuing the ghost act froze at my calm greeting. The eerie laughter cut off abruptly.
“You have glasses marks on your nose. It would be better if you made the makeup a little thicker.”
“…Ah?”
“And… it’s pretty funny that the ghost is wearing a Casio watch. As expected of a variety show writer.”
“…Ahem.”
The youngest writer cleared her throat in embarrassment and quickly removed her watch to hide it. Feeling a bit sorry for her, I took a candy from my pocket and handed it over.
“Eat this and cheer up. Your blood sugar might be dropping.”
“Uh… thanks, Seo-ah.”
“…What? Writer-nim?”
I lightly kicked Park Si-hoo, who was still sprawled on the ground.
“Get up quickly. The writer-nim has to prepare for the next team.”
I helped Park Si-hoo up and continued walking. He kept turning around to stare at the writer-ghost.
“Ha, so it was the writer. I expected it to be a staff member, though.”
“How was it? It felt pretty real just now, right? You have to go this far to be considered a four-year veteran child actor.”
“Don’t misunderstand. I was just pretending to be scared a bit for the sake of screen time.”
For someone who was tightly clutching my sleeve and following me like a little puppy from behind, he sure had a lot to say.