Chapter Text
The studio buzzed with its newfound brand of organized chaos. Wires snaked across the floor like traps waiting to be tripped. Someone’s konbini sandwich sat precariously on a speaker, and the faint hum of feedback pulsed beneath the chatter. The band as a whole had met a few times, jamming, rehearsing, and throwing around song ideas by then. Sion still can’t believe how well they worked together.
Ryo tuned his guitar with a focused frown. Sakuta was hunched over his pedalboard, muttering something about the tone. Meanwhile, Riku was absent-mindedly singing along to their latest production.
Oh, baby, dance, dance, silly dance, 뚝딱거려
I wanna dance, dance, silly dance, 고장난 춤처럼
“Such a fun song,” Riku mutters mostly to himself. Jaehee hears and smiles to himself.
Sion twirls a drumstick between his fingers behind the kit, trying not to smile too obviously. His phone, face-down beside him, still buzzed faintly in his thoughts.
[ Yushi ⭐ 10:10PM ]
“I want to try.”
Yushi’s message from the night before had been brief, but Sion had reread it at least ten times, each time feeling a little lighter.
He didn’t tell the others. Not yet. Yushi needed time, and Sion wasn’t about to rush that. But the warmth it sparked in him simmered just below the surface.
He clicked his sticks together. “From the top, yeah? Just feel it out. Worst case, we trip over our own feet and go viral for it.”
Riku snorted. “It’s called Silly Dance . I think tripping is part of the concept.”
Jaehee’s voice on the recorded track starts them off, ‘ Oh, Baby dance, yeah ,’ as Riku’s bass kicks in. They launch into the song, bright, a bit unruly, and unapologetically fun with Sakuya’s “ Silly dance, I just… ”
Sion took lead vocals, his voice stray as he leaned into the tongue-in-cheek delivery. Ryo and Sakuya found their rhythm quickly, bouncing off each other with more chemistry than coordination, and Jaehee’s live mix added just enough polish to make the edges gleam.
It doesn’t take long for everyone to really get into the beat of the song, looking at each other as they find their rhythm. “I can’t believe this is our first run through with this song,” Jaehee says to himself as the group launches into the final chorus, in complete harmony.
Fill it up, spill it out
하얘져 할 말이 많은데
Oh, baby dance, I wanna dance
Oh, baby, silly dance
Sion let himself go a little. Let the beat carry him. He imagined Yushi there—moving in sync with the melody, throwing his whole weight into a lyric with that focused intensity Sion had always admired.
Hear the sound getting loud
자꾸 pop, pop, pop 터질 듯
Silly dance I just 네가 웃는 게 좋아
Silly dance I just
좋아
He didn’t even realize he was smiling until the song ended and Riku threw a towel at him.
“Why do you look like you just got proposed to?” Riku asked, raising a brow as he set his bass down.
“Was it really that good?”
Sion ducked his head, laughing it off. “I’m just in a good mood.”
“Suspicious,” Sakuya muttered.
“I think it went well,” Ryo chimed in.
“Let him have his moment,” Jaehee said dryly from the board. “That wasn’t half bad.”
They packed up in bursts of energy, gear clattering back into bags, jokes overlapping. As the others filtered out—Riku trailing behind the rest—Sion lingered again, watching the empty space where Yushi might’ve stood.
Jaehee glanced up as he shut the laptop. “Alright. Out with it.”
Sion hesitated, then leaned in closer. “He texted me last night.”
“Yushi?” Jaehee’s tone shifted just slightly.
“He said he wants to try.”
For a beat, Jaehee said nothing. Then he gave a small, knowing nod. “And you didn’t tell the others because…”
“Because it’s his to say,” Sion said. “When he’s ready.”
Jaehee studied him. “But you're ready.”
Sion gave a quiet laugh. “Have been since the first time I heard him sing.”
Jaehee didn’t smile, but his voice softened. “Just make sure you’re giving him space to walk in—not dragging him over the threshold.”
“I know,” Sion said. “That’s why I’m waiting.”
Jaehee slung his bag over one shoulder, pausing just before the door. “Then I hope he walks in soon. Because if today’s anything to go by, this thing might actually work.”
As Sion watched him go, he glanced again at his phone. He didn’t push Yushi. Just held the moment quietly, saving it for when they’d all be in the room together—and Yushi would finally take his place at the front.
249
Yushi spots Riku walking with another boy outside the Music department building. Yushi recognized the other guy as Jaehee from the pictures Riku had shown him. By how much Riku talked about him, Yushi figures he already knew Jaehee, himself.
Yushi watched as they stopped and talked for a moment before Jaehee waved Riku goodbye, going his separate way.
He walks up to Riku, noticing a small, stupid grin on his friend’s face.
Yushi squinted at him. “What were you two talking about?”
Riku looked up. “Huh?”
“You’re smiling. It looked like a thing.”
Riku shrugged, the grin not quite fading. “It wasn’t a thing.”
Yushi narrowed his eyes. “Right.”
Riku rolls his eyes and grabs Yushi’s arm, “Should we grab dinner before going home?”
“Only if you’re paying.”
“If it gets you off my case, fine.”
They started walking side by side, falling into their usual rhythm. A light breeze tugged at the collar of Yushi’s jacket as they passed by a row of campus bulletin boards plastered with event posters and scribbled announcements. One promoted the upcoming Battle of the Bands, which was happening at the end of the term. It catches Riku’s eye.
“Hey,” Riku said, turning to Yushi. “Sion-hyung was in a really good mood earlier. Did you have anything to do with that?”
Yushi doesn’t respond.
“You have that look on your face,” Riku said after a short silence.
Yushi blinked. “What look?”
“That… thing you do when you’ve made up your mind about something, but you’re pretending you haven’t.”
Yushi paused, then looked away, shoulders shifting just slightly. He pulls out his phone, giving it a few taps before handing it to Riku. It’s the text exchange between him and Sion.
[ Me 10:10PM ]
“I want to try.”[ Sion-Hyung 10:12PM ]
“Just let me know whenever you’re ready.”
“I want to try singing again,” Yushi says after a moment, looking ahead.
Riku looked up from Yushi’s phone, to him. “On stage?”
Yushi nodded. “Yeah.”
A breath passed between them.
“That’s good,” Riku said at last, voice steady. “That’s really good.”
Yushi’s mouth twitched, like he wasn’t sure whether to smile or sigh. “I wasn’t planning to say anything. But it felt right.” He pauses. “Sion’s reply… it feels like this isn’t really that big of a deal.”
He just said okay. Like… it wasn’t a big deal.”
Riku nodded. “Because it isn’t. Not in a bad way. It’s just—your choice. No one’s gonna force it.”
“I know.” Yushi let out a soft breath. “I just didn’t think I’d want it again. Not after everything.”
“You don’t have to explain it,” Riku said. “You said it when it mattered. And… for what it’s worth, I think the stage could use you.”
Yushi gave him a look, flat, but fond. “That’s a weird way of saying ‘I missed you on stage.’”
“I did,” Riku said easily. “Even if you used to drown me out during the bridge.”
“Only because you kept forgetting the chord.”
“Selective memory.”
Yushi huffed a laugh. “Thanks.”
Riku leaned his shoulder lightly against his, passing back his phone “Just glad you’re finding your way back to it.”
They walked in comfortable silence for a moment, the kind that only came from years of friendship and band rooms and bruised knuckles from tuning pegs.
Riku glanced sideways. “What’s your plan?”
Yushi shook his head. “I don’t know yet. I just know that I at least want to try,”
“Well, however you wanna move forward, I’m calling it now.”
”Calling what?”
“That you’d come back. Front and center. Like always.”
Yushi smiled—really smiled, this time. “We’ll see.”
And beside him, Riku smiled too.
250
The library was unusually quiet for a weekday afternoon. At the back table near the Philosophy shelf, Sion sat cross-legged with a whiteboard in front of him, squinting at Ryo and Sakuya as they blinked back at him like confused puppies.
“Okay,” Sion said patiently. “If the premises are true, and the conclusion logically follows, then what do we call that?”
“A… logical sandwich?” Sakuya offered.
Sion stared. “That’s not a real thing.”
“It should be,” Ryo mumbled, hunched over his notes. “Like, when the argument’s full of meat.”
Sion pressed a palm to his forehead.
Somehow, he’d been tricked into tutoring them for Logic 101—a class he’d barely scraped through two years ago. He suspected it was Ryo’s subtle guilt-tripping combined with Sakuya’s strategic use of iced americano vouchers. Either way, here he was, explaining syllogisms with dry-erase markers while they scribbled increasingly strange diagrams.
As Sakuya drew a cartoon sandwich, Sion got a text. It’s a new playlist from Yusuhi. He sends out a quick response, saying he’ll check it out later when a thought comes to mind.
“Hey,” he said, turning back to Sakuya and Ryo. “You guys know Yushi, right? Works at the cafe?”
At the mention of his name, Ryo’s eyes lit up. “Yushi-hyung? Of course. He just started this term with Riku-chan.”
“He doesn’t talk much,” Sakuya added, uncapping another marker. “But he always covers for people when they’re late. And he makes the best coffee. Like, scary good.”
“He’s cool,” Ryo agreed. “Kind of quiet, but not in a cold way. Just… in his own world.”
Sion smiled faintly. That sounded about right.
Ryo excitedly added, “One time I was grabbing napkins from the storage room, and I heard him singing.”
Sion blinked. “Singing?”
“Yeah,” Ryo said. “Thought someone had left a speaker on or something. Really soft. Just humming at first, then full-out singing under his breath. I peeked around the shelf and—it was Yushi-hyung. Putting away stock like nothing was happening.”
Sakuya blinked. “And you didn’t say anything?”
Ryo shook his head. “Didn’t want to spook him. He looked... not sad exactly. Just far away. Like the song wasn’t for anyone else.”
Sion glanced down at the table, fingers brushing the edge of his notes.
“That’s kind of cool, though,” Sakuya said after a beat. “Like you caught a secret level of Yushi-hyung.”
“Yeah,” Ryo said quietly. “It stuck with me, there was something about the way he sang that kind of gives you goosebumps, you know?”
Sion didn’t speak right away. The image stayed with him too—Yushi, singing in the quiet, unaware anyone was listening. It was both ordinary and intimate. Not a performance. Just something real.
Sion’s chest tightened. He’d heard Yushi sing once, when he thought no one was paying attention. But the image of him tucked away in a storage room, singing to no one at all—it tugged at something deep in his chest.
He tapped his pen against the board, trying to refocus. “Okay, if we assume your friendship doesn’t count as a valid premise—”
“Excuse me,” Sakuya cut in. “Our friendship is the foundation of truth.”
Ryo immediately high-fived him.
Sion groaned, but he couldn’t help the quiet laugh that slipped out.
Sakuya laughed, and for a while, they let the lesson drift into something lighter. But Sion’s thoughts kept circling that quiet moment, and the voice Ryo had once overheard—unprompted, unguarded, and still echoing somewhere in the back of his mind.
250
Yushi zipped his laptop back into his bag as the lecture hall started to empty, the scrape of chairs and soft shuffle of bags fading as students left. He slung the bag over one shoulder, ready to head out, when his phone buzzed in his pocket.
[ Sion-Hyung 11:30AM ]
“I heard this and thought of you.”
A YouTube link followed, 心音. The thumbnail was bright—pinks, reds, yellows, warmth.
A second message came in before Yushi could tap it open.
[ Sion-Hyung 11:31AM ]
“no pressure btw. just… whenever you feel like it.
also Jaehee says he wants to hear you sing sometime.”
Yushi stared at the screen, thumb hovering.
A few moments passed. Then, he typed:
[ Me 11:31AM ]
“Ok.”
Simple. Honest. That was all he could give right now.
“Yushi-yah!”
Yushi turned to see Anton, his project partner in another class, jogging down the aisle, slightly out of breath, waving a folder in one hand. His hair was pushed back like he’d just run across campus.
“Hey,” Yushi said, slipping his phone into his pocket.
“Got a minute?” Anton asked. “About the presentation next week. I figured we could work on the outline today, if you're free.”
“Yeah, sure,” Yushi nodded, adjusting his bag strap.
Anton grinned. “Nice. Let’s grab one of the empty rooms. I need to pull up the data anyway.”
As they walked out together, Anton glanced over. “You look tired.”
“Just thinking,” Yushi said.
“Still adjusting?”
Yushi let out a breath that might’ve been a laugh. “Something like that.”
250
Sion poked at the side of his plate with his chopsticks, only half paying attention as Riku dropped into the seat beside him. Their usual spot in the courtyard was shaded and quiet, tucked just far enough from the main walkways. Since the start of the term, the three of them—him, Riku, and Yushi—had always eaten here. Today, it was just the two of them.
“Yushi said he’s working on a project,” Riku said, opening his drink.
Sion gave a soft “mm” of acknowledgment but didn’t look up from his tray. He’d texted Yushi earlier, sent over a track and a half-joking message about hitting him up if he ever wanted to sing again. He meant it. Jaehee did too.
He stabbed a piece of rolled egg with more force than necessary.
“You okay?” Riku asked, catching the motion.
“I’ve just been thinking,” Sion said. “About practice. The band. It’s good, but…” He trailed off.
“Still feels like something’s missing,” Riku finished for him.
Sion nodded. “We sound clean. Polished. But not alive, you know? Not yet.”
Riku didn’t argue. He never did when Sion talked like this. Just let it settle.
Sion glanced up then—and froze mid-bite.
Across the courtyard, Yushi walked alongside someone. Tall, sharp-eyed, his expression soft as he talked. Yushi laughed at something the guy said. It wasn’t the small, polite kind Sion usually got from him. This one was easy. Natural. Familiar.
Sion’s brows knit before he could stop them.
“Who’s that?” he asked.
Riku looked over. “Oh. Anton.”
Sion let his gaze linger a moment longer, then looked away, trying to ignore the tight pull in his chest. It wasn’t like he had any claim. He knew that. But something about the way Yushi smiled at the other guy felt… different . Like a language he hadn’t learned to read yet.
Sion turned to him. “You know him?”
“Yeah. Anton was a transfer student at our Tokyo campus. He and Yushi got pretty close last year. He’s actually the one who told us about the foreign student program here.”
Sion watched them another moment, something tightening in his chest that he couldn’t name. “He looks... comfortable with him.”
“He is,” Riku said. “Yushi was a student-buddy of Anton’s when he spent a term there. And Anton helped Yushi through a tough time. He’s one of the few people Yushi actually lets in.”
That made Sion quiet.
“Huh,” Sion murmured, eyes back on his tray.
There was a beat of quiet between them.
“Yushi trusts him,” Riku said finally.
Sion didn’t reply. Not at first. He was still thinking about the text he sent. About the way he kept looking for signs in Yushi’s silences, about how that laugh had come so easily for someone else. Sion shakes his head, clearing his thoughts. He lets his eyes settle on the food in front of him.
“I meant what I said,” Sion said after a while. “I want him in the band. Not because he sings well. Because it feels different when he does.”
Riku didn’t comment. Just sipped his drink, watching him out of the corner of his eye.
“I don’t want him to feel like I’m pushing,” Sion added.
“Then don’t,” Riku said simply. “Say what you mean. It’s the only way he’ll believe it.”
Sion nodded, more to himself than anyone.
He glanced across the courtyard one last time—but Yushi was already gone.
250
Yushi and Anton walked side by side down a quiet path behind campus, shaded by thick rows of trees. The air was warm and still, and for once, Yushi didn’t mind the silence. It gave him room to breathe and think.
Anton strolled beside him, sipping from a sweating plastic cup, easy and unhurried. He always carried that sense of calm, like nothing could really shake him. Yushi had always envied that a little.
“Can I ask you something?” Yushi said, eyes fixed ahead.
Anton looked over. “Of course.”
“It’s kind of… hypothetical,” Yushi added quickly.
“Okay,” Anton said slowly, smiling.
Yushi’s hand stayed tucked deep in his pocket. “What would you do if there was something you used to love doing as a kid—like really love, like you felt alive doing it—but now, just thinking about it makes you freeze up?”
Anton’s brow lifted slightly, but he didn’t respond right away. He let the question sit for a second.
“Did something happen?” he asked gently. “Or did it just stop feeling right?”
“It didn’t stop feeling right,” Yushi said, his voice quieter. “It just… stopped feeling like mine.”
Anton gave a small nod. “I get that.”
Yushi glanced at him, uncertain. “Do you?”
“I used to be a competitive swimmer,” Anton said, and Yushi blinked at the sudden confession. “Back in high school. Nationals, regionals, all of it. I loved the water, loved the training. Lived for it, really.”
Yushi’s eyes widened slightly. “You? Really?”
Anton chuckled. “I know, I don’t exactly scream ‘athlete,’ right? But yeah. I was obsessed with it. Until my final year, when I completely bombed at a qualifier meet. I was off, tired, panicked… whatever. I didn’t make the cut. Everyone was surprised. Coaches, teammates… me.”
He looked down at the path for a second.
“I stopped swimming after that,” he said. “Didn’t go near a pool for almost a year. It wasn’t just the failure. It was the pressure. It stopped being about loving it and became about living up to expectations. I hated how it made me feel.”
Yushi stayed quiet, listening.
“What changed?” he asked softly.
Anton smiled. “I swam again one day, by myself. No stopwatch, no crowd. Just me and the water. It wasn’t about being the best anymore—it was just about remembering what I loved. And that brought me back to it.”
Yushi swallowed hard, his grip tightening on the edge of his shirt inside his pocket.
Anton glanced at him. “Whatever it is you're thinking about... if you loved it once, that part of you’s still in there. You just gotta give yourself time to find it again. Without the noise.”
Yushi looked away, nodding faintly. He didn’t say anything else, but Anton didn’t press.
For the first time in a long while, Yushi felt like maybe he wasn’t alone in how he felt.
262
Yushi hesitated a moment before pressing send.
[ Me 8:03PM ]
“Hey. Can we talk tomorrow?”
The three dots blinked almost immediately.
[ Sion-Hyung 8:03PM ]
“Absolutely :) When and where?”
That night, Yushi barely slept. He kept replaying Sion’s words in his head: You’re good, Yushi. You belong there.
It was easier to let himself believe that in the moment, wrapped in the warmth of Sion’s voice and the faint hum of the studio monitors. But now, in the quiet, doubts crept in like static.
Sion believed in him. Riku did too.
But Yushi wanted to know if someone like Jaehee, someone who’d never seen the before version of him, who only knew the person he was now, would still think he belonged on stage.
He needed someone who wasn't blinded by memory or loyalty.
And Jaehee had no reason to lie.
262
The late morning sun warmed the sidewalk as Yushi stood near the corner where they’d agreed to meet. He had his hands stuffed into his hoodie pockets as he rocked slightly on his heels, the motion almost imperceptible, more habit than thought. Yushi looked up to see Sion approach with that usual bounce in his step and an unmistakable grin.
“You look like you’ve already planned out the whole setlist,” Yushi muttered, mostly to tease.
Sion laughed. “What can I say? I’m an optimist.” He paused, tilting his head. “Is this a yes?”
Yushi shook his head lightly. “Not exactly.”
Sion’s smile didn’t falter, but it did soften. “Okay. What’s up?”
“I just…” Yushi glanced away. “You said Jaehee wanted to hear me sing.”
Sion blinked, then nodded. “Definitely. He’s actually at the studio right now, working on the set. We can swing by.”
Yushi nodded. “Okay.”
“But,” Sion added, holding up a finger, “I need to stop by my place real quick. Left my drumsticks and a couple cables. Studio gremlins will eat me alive if I forget again.”
Yushi raised a brow. “Studio gremlins?”
“They’re real,” Sion said solemnly. “Hungry for musician negligence.”
Yushi snorted despite himself. “Fine. Lead the way.”
262
Sion’s apartment was a small but tidy place on the third floor of a quiet building, sunlight spilling through half-open curtains. There were scattered signs of a creative life—cords, headphones, pieces of colored paper at the edge of the kitchen counter—but it felt lived-in in a comfortable way.
“Feel free to sit,” Sion said, disappearing into his room to dig for gear.
Yushi wandered instead, eyes drifting to a small shelf lined with framed photos. A younger Sion beaming in a graduation cap. Another one of Sion and a tall, broad-shouldered guy with similar eyes and a mischievous grin, both throwing peace signs at the camera. That one caught Yushi’s attention.
Sion emerged with a duffel bag and paused when he saw where Yushi was looking.
“That’s my older brother,” he said, coming to stand beside him. “Jaehyun.”
Yushi nodded. “You guys look alike.”
“Yeah, but he’s taller,” Sion replied with a smile that held more weight than before. “And cooler. At least, that’s what I thought growing up. He’s the reason I got into music in the first place. He used to sneak me into live shows when I was way too young. Gave me my first set of sticks.”
Yushi watched his face as he spoke—there was pride there, and maybe something quieter underneath.
“He’s out of the country now, doing his own thing,” Sion continued. “But he called me the other day. Said he’s coming to see me play.”
Yushi raised his eyebrows.
“Battle of the bands.” Sion laughed lightly. “So now, no pressure or anything. Just gotta be good enough to not embarrass myself in front of the guy who taught me everything.”
Yushi didn’t respond right away. He glanced back at the photo.
“I think he’d be proud,” he said finally. “Even now.”
Sion looked at him, surprised by the sincerity in Yushi’s tone. But instead of teasing, he simply nodded. “Thanks.”
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward—it felt settled, somehow.
Yushi turned back toward the door. “So… studio?”
“Studio,” Sion said, grabbing his bag.
262
They arrived at one of the campus studios reserved for extracurriculars. Yushi followed Sion into the small room. Music blasted from the speakers, a steady beat echoing through the space. Someone was in the booth, Jaehee, headphones on, clearly absorbed in what he was doing.
답은 알고 있잖아 So tell me what you feel inside
상상 속의 세상 우리가 만들 거야
The drums faded out as a keyboard melody took over, and Jaehee began to sing:
I got no boundaries, 멈추지 마
두 눈 감고 we're just gonna sway tonight
터지는 불빛 안에 너의 wish
모두 펼쳐 now
Yushi watched silently as Sion settled behind the soundboard. The drums kicked back in, and Jaehee followed the beat with smooth confidence:
Ooh, I'm gonna skate through the city lights
사랑일 거야 아마
별로 칠할게 we could be a sight
너와 나의 시간 forgot 한대도
Come on, take a chance.
Done한 거는 pass
또 다시 시작해 What you say now?
The drums faded again, and Jaehee pursed his lips, visibly dissatisfied, before finally looking up. He took off his headphones and stepped into the main studio as Sion turned off the music on the soundboard.
“Hyung!” the guy greeted, then turned to Yushi and bowed politely. “You must be Yushi-ssi. Riku told me about you, and Sion, of course.”
“This is Jaehee,” Sion said, patting him on the back. “He’s our producer. He does keys sometimes, too.”
“Ah, hello,” Yushi returned the bow, then hesitated. He glanced at Sion, then back at Jaehee. For some reason, he felt like he needed to say something more. “You sing well.”
Sion burst into laughter, amused by the bluntness, while Yushi looked confused, not seeing what was funny.
Jaehee just smiled warmly, a glint of humor in his eyes. “Thank you.”
They settled into the space. Jaehee returned to the soundboard, opened his laptop, and began cleaning up the take he'd just recorded.
Sion explained that Jaehee was in the same year as him, despite being younger than even Yushi. A music prodigy, Jaehee had entered university early. Sion had been assigned as his student-buddy when he first arrived, but quickly realized Jaehee was more mature than most of their peers. They’d started producing music together soon after, with Sion’s older brother and his friends, mostly as a hobby—though, in retrospect, Sion mused, it was pretty much Jaehee’s full-time focus.
“Do you wanna try the song?” Jaehee asked, offering Yushi the sheet music he’d been using earlier.
Yushi looked at the paper, then up at Jaehee, then Sion—who was giving him an encouraging nod. Yushi wondered what he was doing, why he felt like he needed permission. He shook off the thought and took the sheet. “Okay.”
Inside the booth, Yushi stood across from Sion while Jaehee worked the soundboard from outside. “All good?” Sion asked.
Yushi adjusted the headphones until they were comfortable and nodded. Sion gave Jaehee a thumbs-up, and the track began.
A metronomic guitar strum paired with clapping samples filled the studio. Yushi looked once at Sion’s smiling face before turning to the lyrics. The beat came in, and Sion started:
Skateboard in hand, no worries, no plans
도로 위 물감처럼
우리만의 kick 지금 이 flip
모두 빛나잖아 파도같이 밀려와
It hit Yushi that he’d never really heard Sion sing before. Sure, Riku had shown him some grainy videos from his phone, but the audio was terrible: a mess of noise, distant bass, and feedback hum.
But this—this was different.
Sion’s voice felt like him: warm, bright, playful. It was golden, somehow. Yushi couldn’t stop watching him. When Sion glanced over mid-line and caught his gaze, Yushi quickly looked away.
Jaehee’s recorded vocals took over:
답은 알고 있잖아 So tell me what you feel inside
상상 속의 세상 우리가 만들 거야
Then it was Yushi’s turn.
The pre-chorus loomed as the drums dropped out again. Jaehee gave him a cue.
Yushi took a breath. He looked at Sion, who, of course, was smiling at him, and finally sang, trying to match the melody he’d heard Jaehee use:
I got no boundaries, 멈추지 마
두 눈 감고 we're just gonna sway tonight
터지는 불빛 안에 너의 wish
모두 펼쳐 now
He caught Sion’s proud expression out of the corner of his eye, almost debilitating in its intensity, and kept going.
The drums crashed back in, the chorus swelling with power. Together with Jaehee’s recorded harmonies, Yushi and Sion sang:
Ooh, I'm gonna skate through the city lights
사랑일 거야 아마
별로 칠할게 we could be a sight
너와 나의 시간 forgot 한대도
Yushi closed his eyes, letting the harmonies carry him. His voice blended with Sion’s, threading through the beat with a surprising ease that made his heart catch. For a moment, he wondered what this would sound like with the full band—Riku’s bass grounding them, Jaehee on keys, the weight and texture of a real set behind them.
Come on, take a chance. Done한 거는 pass
또 다시 시작해 What you say now?
He opened his eyes right as Sion sang, his gaze locked onto him with unshakable intensity:
So are we gonna skate?
Watch me wow a crowd
Yushi shivered. Sion’s lower register was deep, warm, a contrast to the brightness of the melody. It sent a pulse through him he hadn’t expected. He quickly looked away.
“Good job, guys,” Jaehee said brightly over the intercom, stopping the track.
Yushi exhaled sharply, he hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath. Through the glass, Jaehee nodded at the laptop, clearly impressed.
Sion let out a gleeful laugh, ripping off his headphones. “That was amazing,” he said, giving Yushi an excited pat on the back. His grin was infectious, but Yushi could barely return it; his heart was still thudding too hard, not just from the rush of singing, but from waiting.
Waiting to see what Jaehee would say.
Jaehee wasn’t just any listener. From how Riku talked about him, he was meticulous. Honest. He wouldn’t compliment something that wasn’t worth hearing again.
Jaehee met them as they exited the booth, earbuds still around his neck. “Wah,” he said, running a hand through his hair as he pulled up the track on his computer. “Yushi-hyung, your vocal color is really nice. You’ve got this texture, kinda raw but… clear? It fits the vibe so well.”
He turned to Sion with a little grin. “You really found a gem, hyung.”
Yushi blinked. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected. Politeness, maybe. Encouragement masked as courtesy. But this wasn’t that.
He nodded, his mouth too dry for words. But inside, he felt something unwind, something that had been coiled tight in his chest for a long time.
He’d missed this. Missed music. Missed being heard.
And the way Sion had looked at him while they sang, like he belonged, like he was already part of it… made him feel, just for a moment, like maybe he could do anything.
“We’re having a recording session this weekend,” Sion said. “It’d be great if you could come.”
Yushi looked between them, hesitating only for a moment. “Yes… Yes, I’ll be there.”
His phone chimed. “Ah—I have class in fifteen minutes. Across campus,” he said, waving his phone.
Sion chuckled. “Better run, then.”
“Thanks for this, hyung… really.” Yushi smiled, and Sion murmured a soft “No problem” as Yushi turned and jogged off, something lighter in his step.
Sion watched him go, hoping that lilt meant what he thought it did. Yushi fit the song like he was meant to be part of it. And if Sion’s heart fluttered at the thought, it was probably just imagination.
Sion lingered in the doorway after Yushi disappeared down the hall, the soft echo of his retreating footsteps mixing with the faint hum of the studio monitors.
Behind him, Jaehee leaned back in the swivel chair, arms crossed and smiling to himself. “He’s really as good as you made him out to be. I honestly thought you were just blinded, well, deafened by your little crush that you constantly talk about.”
Sion shot him a look, only half-playful. “I don’t constantly talk about him.”
“Sure,” Jaehee replied. “You say his name like it means nothing, then stare off like you’re writing poetry in your head. Pretty convincing.”
Sion rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. He walked over to the sound board and leaned his weight against it, watching the audio levels shift faintly as the track looped quietly in the background.
Jaehee glanced at him. “You know he likes you, right?”
Sion stilled. “He… doesn’t.”
Jaehee just raised an eyebrow, like he wasn’t buying that for a second.
“He doesn’t,” Sion repeated, but there was less certainty in his voice this time. “He’s just… finding his way back. To music. To people. It’s not about me.”
Jaehee gave a small hum, closing his laptop with a soft click. “Maybe. But sometimes people come back to the things they love through the people who make it worth going back to.”
Sion didn’t say anything. He just looked down at the headphones still hanging around his neck, then slowly closed his hand around them.
“Anyway,” Jaehee said, stretching, “he’ll be back. You can feel it in his voice. He’s halfway in already.”
Sion allowed himself a faint smile at that. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I think so too.”