A gentle tapping woke me from a half-dream.

Tap tap.

Something unknown was tapping my thigh through the blanket.

At first I ignored it and turned over, but it kept pestering me relentlessly.

When I finally opened my eyes,

I found Ri-hyuk peering through the railings of the upper bunk, tapping my body with the long grabber stick he held.

“...What the hell.”

“You said to wake you.”

“Ughhh....”

“Get up, quick. You’ve got reserve training today.”

The metal claws clicked against the rail and came toward my head.

I pulled the blanket over my face.

“Five more minutes.”

“No. Bijoo hyung says get up, now.”

Outside the blanket the grabber rattled like castanets.

“.......”

I was fully awake.

In the living room, Bijoo stood at the stove in an apron cooking industriously, and Ri-hyuk hung the grabber on the clothing rack.

Too tired, I flopped onto the sofa and closed my eyes.

Click! Click-click-click!

Torment.

“Ughhh....”

“Get up. Why are you flailing?”

“I stayed up all night yesterday....”

“Again?”

“You know I’ve been busy finalizing with the A&R team.”

I scratched my head and sat up.

Lately I’d been pulling all-nighters almost every night with the A&R composers.

I wasn’t sure of the schedule, but at least the title track had to be done one month before comeback.

It was tight.

Still, all that effort paid off: while I was away for two nights’ training, the A&R team would finish the final work.

All that remained was the reserve training.

Dragging my tired body, I washed up and came out to find Ri-hyuk laying out the contents of my backpack in a neat row.

“Toothpaste, towel, socks....”

“What about the others?”

“They left around four this morning.”

“They went early.”

Jung-hyun and Ji-ho had departed at dawn to film Animal Friends at TBC.

Last night had been crazy.

They planned to assign me the role of Daegil, so I butted in like an angry black goat.

“Hope they do well.”

“When those two tag-team it, they’ll get airtime. I worry more about me and Bijoo hyung.”

Ri-hyuk pointed to the camera set in the middle of the living room.

It was the camera we’d been given to shoot daily VCRs for the reality show.

That was Bijoo and Ri-hyuk’s schedule.

While I trained, Jung-hyun and Ji-ho would film variety, and the two of them would produce VCR content at the dorm.

“They’ll be fine.”

“Enough hollow comfort. Here, check off everything on the list.”

“Thanks.”

I scanned the “Reserve Training Necessities” list in Gothic font.

One by one as I checked, Ri-hyuk emerged from his room carrying a box.

“......?”

“I looked online—apparently you have tons of free time at reserve training. So I borrowed you a few books.”

Touched even half-awake.

This kid normally has seizures if you touch his stuff, yet offers loans.

“Why are you shining like that? Don’t look at me like I’m cute.”

“Okay, okay.”

I laughed.

“In that case, recommend some. You know books better than anyone.”

Ri-hyuk’s eyes lit up and he rattled off titles—this one, that one.

Honestly we’d be busy enough sleeping, but it was nice to see him so excited.

After hearing him out I picked two and packed them.

Then a soft voice called,

“Come eat.”

Set on the corner table was a feast—doenjang-jjigae and simple meat side dishes.

“Wow, I feel like a Joseon dynasty king.”

Our homemaker in an apron beamed at my expression.

Determined,

“Since a man’s going, I thought hospital food would seem awful. I insisted on home cooking.”

“Ooh.”

“I chose your favorite sides.”

“I’m touched.”

Even Grandma Kim Deok-soon never went this far. One spoon of doenjang-jjigae moved me.

“Bijoo.”

“Yes?”

“You must miss me the most.”

“I do too, hyung. I’ll really miss you.”

“No, I’ll miss you more.”

“No, I will.”

Watching our back-and-forth, Ri-hyuk shook his head as if losing appetite.

Over the meal I felt an odd emptiness.

The audio was so bare.

Ri-hyuk seemed to notice too.

“It’s really quiet. No munching sounds from Jung-hyun, no complaints from Ji-ho. This is....”

As Bijoo and I silently nodded, Ri-hyuk continued,

“It’s peaceful and nice.”

“.......”

We both nodded at his satisfied smile, then exchanged normal comments.

“It feels a bit lonely.”

“Yeah, it’s quiet.”

“We’ll have more solo schedules from now on, so we’ll have to get used to this?”

“Yeah, right.”

I laughed.

“Too bad. Meals are better together.”

We emptied two bowls.

When I donned my loose fatigues and laced my boots, Bijoo thrust out a bundle.

“What’s this?”

“Hyung, I packed a lunchbox for you.”

“A lunchbox?”

I’d wondered what she’d been busily doing—she’d made a lunchbox.

But personal lunchboxes aren’t allowed.

I raised an eyebrow to Ri-hyuk about to object, then shook my head to stop him.

“Thank you.”

“It’s delicate, so don’t shake it.”

“I got it.”

What kind of character lunchbox?

I wondered as I left the dorm.

Two weeks later, on HBS MTV’s reality show It’s The NewBlack, Episode 1:

In the manager’s car

Woo-joo: (face close to the camera) Hello, viewers.

Manager: Waaaa!

Woo-joo: You are watching the first idol ever to attend reserve training on an idol reality show.

Manager: Waaaa!

Woo-joo: Hyung, put more soul into the sound effect.

Manager: Woo-waaah!

Between the two men’s laughter comments appeared. At the bottom the members in the studio were shown.

(Ri-hyuk) Wow. He’s really laughing wildly.

(Ji-ho) The uniform looks great. Do they sell those too?

(Woo-joo) Wait and see. The government will provide.

Scene shifts to me staring out the window, sighing.

Woo-joo: (deep sigh)

Manager: What’s wrong?

Woo-joo: It’s my first reserve training and I’m nervous.

Manager: Ah.

Woo-joo: Do we shoot a lot?

Manager: No, once or so.

Woo-joo: Any tips?

Manager: No tips, but get good sleep. You look really tired.

Woo-joo: No, I’ll work hard and come back.

As the 10-second countdown subtitle ended, Woo-joo began to doze. Other members in the studio burst out laughing at his embarrassed face.

Manager: We’re almost there. This training center’s close.

Woo-joo: (extending the bundle) Hyung, could you keep this?

Manager: What is it?

Woo-joo: Bijoo said she’d pack a lunchbox, but I think it’s not allowed... I feel so sorry. She made a character bento.

Manager: A character?

Woo-joo: Just a sec. (carefully opens the bundle lid) Maybe it’s Pikachu or something.

Expectant eyes on the lunchbox revealed a soldier mascot with prickly hair giving a thumbs-up.

Woo-joo: (forcing calm)

Manager: What’s that?

Woo-joo: (strained smile) It’s the Military Manpower Administration mascot...

[New rookie idol makes character lunchbox for leader going to reserve training.jpg]

A pointless high-quality lunchbox and Woo-joo’s expression management are killer points

– That spiky hair is the MMA mascot??

– Yep, that’s why my mom and I hate it lol

– I sent this screenshot to my cousin and she freaked out... Is this lunchbox made by Satan?

– It’s really high quality though lol

– “Forcing calm” lol that subtitle’s perfect

– lol why is he going reserve training on reality show

– Now I’m used to it lol when I see a weirdly titled rookie post in the rookie category I think, oh NewBlack

– 22222 lol

– 333 that’s real lol

– They’ve risen since Juse-han. I feel like I see them everywhere now.

– I’m a NewBlack fan, but we have to watch Animal Friends this weekend! They meet that black goat again!

Yeoncheon County.

Kim Jung-hyun and Wang Ji-ho revisited the village that was Juse-han’s filming location, touring with the Animal Friends crew.

Residents back to their routines after the holiday greeted them warmly.

“Another show?”

“Yes! We came to see Daegil!”

They stopped the tractor on the dirt road to wave and greet, waved back at people in the fields.

“Ow, my back. Why did you both come this time?”

“The show was so funny. But the PD cut my parts perfectly... Suhyun was all over it though.”

“Does the camera show us if we wave?”

Having been on a show once, the villagers treated cameras differently.

Jung-hyun and Ji-ho blended right in.

“Grandma!”

“Yes?”

“Please take this!”

Ji-ho blew a heart at the elderly field workers, who cracked up laughing.

Jung-hyun carried folks’ bags as they returned home, receiving heartfelt thanks.

At the same time they asked after the others.

“What about that massage guy?”

“He’s at reserve training.”

“Aww, too bad. After his massage my back felt great.”

“You’re hunched now though?”

“Hey! Don’t contradict your elders. Anyway, I thought I should give him something back so I made some kimchi.”

Others did the same.

Each person mentioned a different member and invited [N O V E L I G H T] them over later.

Hearing that, Ji-ho and Jung-hyun looked at the sky.

“People sure miss Woo-joo hyung.”

“Right. Maybe we should’ve given massages too.”

“Seems so.”

“After filming, let’s do the rounds with massages. I even brought our pictorial to show.”

“Ooh, good idea.”

They shared a pleased laugh, then gazed at the sky with mixed feelings.

“I miss them. Woo-joo hyung too.”

“Me too.”

The crew chuckled watching them wave to the blue sky.

It felt like they ought to CG the others’ faces into the sky.

“But Woo-joo hyung’s doing fine, right?”

“Don’t worry. He became leader just a month after meeting us. Even if he fell in a desert he’d sell electric blankets and succeed.”

“True.”

“So no worries.”

They laughed together, worry over their leader lasting ten seconds before shifting topics.

“Ji-ho, what should we eat at the rest stop tonight?”

“How about tornado potatoes?”

“Deal. And popcorn chicken?”

“Deal. Ah, just thinking about it’s so good. Hyung, let’s blow up the rest stop ourselves.”

They planned dinner already before noon, and the crew could only smile.

The two, arms around each other, walked perfectly as one.

Meanwhile at the Gangnam–Seocho Reserve Training Center:

The soldiers serving meals at the mess glancing at the celebrity among the reservists.

“He’s really handsome.”

They said his name was Woo-joo.

The idol who rose to fame on Juse-han.

He was already chatting and laughing with those around him, lighting up the place each time.

Stunning looks.

Yet the mess soldier didn’t feel he was a celebrity.

Rather something else...

As the idol took his tray,

Someone who’d been staring at it spoke in a smooth, pleasing voice.

“Excuse me.”

“Yes, senior.”

“Could I have some more sausage?”

A pale finger pointed to the sausage vegetable stir-fry.

The mess soldier replied,

“Sir, we’re serving fixed portions...”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Ah...”

Muttering a familiar phrase, the idol moved to the next station.

“More sausage, please.”

Serving the other reservists, the soldier realized what he’d been sensing.

A confident, relaxed expression.

An easy stride.

He blinked as they wandered off.

‘What the...?’

He was just a senior corporal.

Back at the peaceful dorm, Vivaldi’s Four Seasons drifted from a Bluetooth speaker.

Seo Ri-hyuk read his book with a blissful smile.

‘Nice. So nice.’

A rare moment of tranquility—no childish pranks from the maknae, no two fools egging him on.

He turned the page with satisfaction and spoke to the reality cam on the armrest.

“Hello. It’s ‘Guy Who Reads Books’ time with Seo Ri-hyuk. Today’s book is ‘Classics Every Korean Should Hear,’ so I’ll play some classical... Hyung, what are you doing?”

Kim Bijoo, sweating, pulled a kimchi container from the fridge.

Realizing what was happening, I saw newspaper spread on the floor.

“Hyung. What are you doing?”

“The director told us to make reality content while others’ shows aired.”

“So we’re working hard, right? Introducing books... like a radio program.”

“You two should do something together.”

“How about we each do our own solo since we’re apart today?”

“I like doing things together.”

“.......”

“Without Woo-joo hyung, Jung-hyun, Ji-ho....”

“Okay, okay!”

Ri-hyuk’s face fell as soon as I mentioned doing separate things. I sighed deeply.

The others wouldn’t mind, but this hyung’s resolve weakened me.

Unaware, Ri-hyuk donned gloves and said,

“So what will we do?”

“I’m making kimchi dumplings. Jung-hyun’s mom sent fresh kimchi.”

“For dinner?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s just order in. Use the delivery app.”

“No.”

His firm refusal choked back Ri-hyuk’s protest.

I thought I’d rest easy here, but it turned out the final boss was here.

“Sigh...”

As Ri-hyuk resigned himself and began explaining the origin of dumplings to the cam, Bijoo wrestled open the kimchi container.

“Graaah!”

“......?”

“Graaah!”

“Hyung, can’t you open it?”

The twist-off jar was completely stuck.

Seeing the limp second hyung, Ri-hyuk sprang up.

“Give it to me. I’ll open it....”

“Open?”

“Why won’t it open? Hrrmph!”

Bijoo doubled over laughing, and Ri-hyuk furrowed his brow in embarrassment.

“Hyung, don’t mock me. Help.”

“All right.”

Together they grabbed the lid.

“One, two, three—open!”

“Hrrrph!”

“Ooof!”

“Five minutes later.”

“It’s no use.”

“See? It’s tough.”

“Ten minutes later.”

“Hrrrk!”

“Open sesame!”

“Damn it, you stubborn kimchi jar!”

“No, Ri-hyuk.”

“Why?”

“They say nice words help. I read online that positive affirmations make the lid break prettier.”

“That’s all nonsense, hyung.”

“Really?”

“Filter what you read online. Ninety percent is scam.”

They grunted and strained at the jar.

But the kimchi pot held firm like an impregnable fortress.

“How can two grown men fail at this?”

“Right. Usually... wait.”

A thought crossed their minds.

Every time someone needed strength in the dorm before, it had been provided by others.

‘I can’t believe we’re the weakest link....’

The main dancer with hidden strength in dance, and the main vocalist who hated moving—yet neither could open a jar.

“How much do you weigh, hyung?”

“I’m fifty-nine kilos. You?”

“Fifty-seven.”

“Still, I round up to sixty.”

“I do too.”

“.......”

“Hyung, now is not the time for this.”

“Oh.”

Bijoo’s face fell at the stubborn jar.

“...I miss Woo-joo hyung. He’d have shown us a YouTube trick.”

“Let’s just try again.”

“We?”

“What can’t we do? We’ll watch a kimchi-jar hack on YouTube.”

“Ooh.”

Three minutes later.

“Hrrrph!”

“Uugh! Open! Open already! Will you never open?”

“Ri-hyuk! No yelling! You’re a nuisance!”

“You’re yelling too! Hrrph! I followed the video exactly—why won’t it open... agh!”

As the two fought with the lid, the camera blinked its red light and silently recorded their pathetic struggle.