At Tae-oh’s words, everyone froze in an instant. They all closed their mouths as if they weren’t even breathing, as if all sound had disappeared. Sol, who had been about to respond irritably, also widened his eyes at the change and looked at the four people. Everyone’s gaze was directed at Ga-ram. Only Garam looked at Sol.
It was glaringly obvious that Tae-oh had said something wrong. The atmosphere suddenly became icy, but Sol thought it was better that way. At least they wouldn’t bother him anymore. And Sol’s prediction was correct. None of the four said anything more until the somewhat noisy vocal trainer started the lesson. Of course, Sol was included in that.
Deuk-yong, known for his loud voice, was also on edge, watching his older brothers’ reactions, even when just exchanging greetings, as his mere greeting might cause a stir. Watching the youngest, who was being overwhelmed by the heavy atmosphere he had created, wasn’t exactly comfortable, but today Sol really didn’t want to care about anything. Sol dropped his head low and stared blankly at the sheet music and the floor in the middle, his eyes unfocused.
Snap!
Sol startled at the sound of hands clapping loudly near his ear, his head jerking like a wet dog’s.
“Sung Sol! Sol-ah!”
“Yes? Yes.”
“Can’t focus? Still not feeling well, huh, kid? How about you try singing properly once and then take a break? We still need to raise your evaluation grade.”
“I’m sorry.”
He bowed his head in apology, but it was just a formality. Whenever this happened, Sol never did anything properly. It was quite exhausting to pretend to know and remember things that everyone else didn’t. Pretending to remember, but actually being bothered by the absence of memory of that missing time was quite unsettling. Of course, the heavy head also played a significant role in clouding his mind.
Repeatedly trying to recall memories, focusing, and recalling yesterday’s situation, he remembered briefly chatting with Jiho in the evening and tinkering with various functions of the system window, but the weekend evaluation part was really a complete blank.
“Wow, what’s changed? Why couldn’t you do this before if you’re able to do it now?”
Sol looked up at the vocal trainer praising himself. Despite being absent-minded and humming aimlessly while his mind was elsewhere, he ended up being praised instead of scolded, all thanks to the improvement in his vocal abilities. One would think he’d feel good after being praised, but for some reason, Sol felt oddly guilty, so he awkwardly laughed and looked around at the members looking at him with surprised expressions. Everyone seemed surprised, but only Ji-ho, sitting at the end, looked at Sol with a pensive expression.
“What’s going on? Him... he collapsed, and suddenly he’s doing well?”
“Hey. Kim Deuk-yong. If you say it like that...”
“I’m sorry. But really, what’s going on? It’s so smooth now, and even his pitch is consistent. Didn’t he suddenly get really good? Hyung, what did you do?”
“Yeah. I was nervous until just before the weekend evaluation...”
As Sol’s gaze shifted towards him, he let out a forced laugh, unable to find any excuse.
“He’s been working hard all along. Maybe now that he’s relieved, his true skill is showing.”
“Oh, is that so?”
“Yeah... Sol was too tense all this time.”
“That’s right. That seems to be it. Today, I feel a bit at ease.”
“Well, that’s a relief, then.”
“What’s up with you, hyung? Are you all softened up now?”
Unable to find a proper excuse, when everyone was fumbling around, Tae-oh intervened at just the right moment. As Tae-oh spoke, everyone nodded in agreement, one by one. While everyone looked at Sol with a secretly relieved expression, only Ji-ho nodded dryly, keeping his gaze fixed on the sheet music.
Sol glanced at Ji-ho briefly. Perhaps Ji-ho, who had been consistently supportive of his singing all this time, felt this was not a normal situation. Even though he hadn’t done anything wrong, he suddenly felt like he was being scrutinized. Even if it felt suspicious, what could he do? Could he tell him about the system? Would he even believe it?
“Next is Ji-ho.”
The discomfort didn’t last long. As the vocal trainer pointed to Ji-ho next and he was called out, the situation was resolved. As Sol took his seat, Ga-ram, who seemed to have been constantly supportive, and Deuk-yong, who was somewhat oblivious, began to fuss as Sol sat down.
“Hyung, saying you feel at ease. Does that mean you felt a bit closer to us now?”
“Good job. Your voice sounds calm and pleasant.”
“Yes. Thanks.”
“I hope it continues to be this good.”
Deuk-yong shrugged his broad shoulders and said. Sol couldn’t help but feel uneasy at the naïve remark. Ji-ho’s pensive expression kept flashing before his eyes. Yesterday, he was just glad to have found an easy way out of this situation, thinking about stability potions and whatnot, but at this moment, he just felt very complicated.
They might have had innate talent, but for the past few years, the four of them had been practicing like this every day. Sol couldn’t shake off the feeling that he was just smoothly sailing through life thanks to the system. While he hadn’t slacked off in his efforts, he was bothered by the fact that he was able to keep up with the skills they had honed over days of practice, just by using an item last night.
After the accident, he lived in a careless manner, as if avoiding everything. However, before all of that happened, Sol was just as hardworking as Tae-oh. He had his share of innate talent, but he had never been lazy for a moment. The few years of wandering in a wasteland hadn’t changed the essence of his being. That’s why Sol’s mood sank even further now.
Once again, Sol realized what kind of person he used to be. A practice bug, someone who lived in the academy all day long. The fact that he had lived so diligently suddenly dawned on him.
Sol decided to temporarily postpone the use of one of his remaining Ability Grade Enhancement Ticket. He vowed to do his best and only use it when there was no other way out.
Vocal lessons and dance lessons had just finished one after another, but none of the five members were in a hurry to return to their dorm. Though it was a misunderstanding, the fact that Sol had practiced so hard that he collapsed seemed to have spurred on the rest of the members as well.
“I’m afraid I’ll fall behind Hyung. We’ll practice more because we’re scared of that, Hyung, you go rest.”
“Even if you say that, can I really relax?”
“I’ll take you there. Let’s go in, Sol.”
“I’m saying this so that Ga-ram Hyung will come back to the practice room.”
“I’ll take it easy. Moderately.”
At Ga-ram and Deuk-yong’s words, Sol chuckled softly. The heavy burden on his mind subsided as they began their dance practice. No, to be precise, when his trauma was triggered, the capacity to focus on things like disappearing memories vanished. Sol sat in the corner of the practice room, watching carefully as the exhaustion that had barely crept up on him subsided.
Still, despite experiencing quite a few things with the members, he didn’t freeze or feel intense pain as before. Though sweat poured down like rain and there were occasional moments of blurred vision or shortness of breath, it was much better than before. The fact that there was a positive change was important.
Sol wondered when the next quest would come, absentmindedly toggling the silent system window on and off and wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. It was futile to wipe his forehead when his entire body was drenched in sweat.
Sol’s palm and forearm were moist. Despite the weak heating running, Sol was dressed in short sleeves even though it was midwinter. This morning, when he got to the company, he had on a hoodie. But after sweating profusely during practice, his clothes were soaked through, and it had been a while since he removed them. The thick, sweat-soaked clothes were actually making Sol even more uncomfortable. His pale and still soft forearms were damp with sweat.
“I’ll go to the restroom for a bit.”
“Sure.”
Once he looked at himself, he felt bothered and uncomfortable seeing his entire body drenched in sweat. Feeling uncomfortable, Sol stood up from his seat and said that he’s going to the restroom. Worried that Tae-oh and Ji-ho might look for him while he was away. The two who had stepped out were nowhere in sight for quite some time. Leaving behind Ga-ram and Deuk-yong, who were deep into practice, Sol headed towards the restroom. The sweat dripping down his forehead stung his eyes.
“It’s disappointing, isn’t it?”
Ji-ho’s voice came from the restroom at the end of the hallway. Rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand as he walked, Sol couldn’t help but stop at the sound echoing through the corridor. Normally, amidst the music or the voices of other trainees, Ji-ho’s voice wouldn’t have been heard, especially at this late hour when everyone had left, but Ji-ho’s voice, unusually clear and sharp, rang out distinctly.
“How many years did it take me to get here after my solo fell through? How many years have I practiced and prepared, and yet he manages to do it in a matter of days?”
Ji-ho’s voice from beyond the door flew towards Sol. However, those words didn’t stab him like a dagger. Instead of becoming a sharp knife aimed at Sol, Ji-ho’s words seemed to pierce Ji-ho himself.
“Sung Sol, he’s worked hard enough. Hyung, you saw it too.”
“I know. I can’t even openly say anything about him. It’s not that I hate him.”
“...”
Sol unexpectedly overheard Tae-oh’s remarks. At the corner leading to the restroom, Sol couldn’t move his feet and paused for a moment. He knew he shouldn’t listen to their conversation any further, but his feet couldn’t move.
“I just feel like maybe that’s where my limit is. Everyone has their own innate talents, you know. It’s just that his and mine are different in size.”
“...I’ve never thought about it like that. In the end, we all end up in the same place. It’s just the speed of arrival that’s different, I think.”
“The speed?”
“Yes. Ga-ram and I are a bit slow, while Sung Sol and Deuk-yong are on the faster side. But as long as we don’t give up along the way, I think we’ll all end up at the same destination.”
“As expected of Yoon Tae-oh, the icon of diligence.”
Upon Tae-oh’s response, Ji-ho’s laughter could be heard.
“Hyung, I’m serious. It will happen soon.”
“Yeah. Soon... soon, right?”
Even though the door was closed, Sol imagined what expression Tae-oh might have right now. Probably, as usual, he would have a serious face. His thick eyebrows would be calm, and his lips would be firmly shut with determination. Although he hadn’t known Tae-oh for long, his expression didn’t seem to change much, making it easy to imagine. That seemed rather trustworthy, but Ji-ho sighed and asked Tae-oh back. It was a voice filled with uncertainty and anxiety.
“Yes.”
