Now that the sparks were all out, I was about to get up first, but Park Juu opened the bag that still had some left.

Then, he used the flame from his sparkler to light a new one. The stick, which had begun to spark again, was returned to my hand.

“It’s thanks to you, hyung.”

“Me?”

“Seongbin said so. That it’s really rare for an idol preparing for college entrance exams while promoting to be looked after this much... You were really attentive during the time we were applying for college, hyung.”

“Well, that’s because you guys said you wanted to give it a try.”

“That’s what I’m thankful for.”

Park Juu lifted his sparkler and waved it gently. The embers scattered around.

“Thank you. For helping with the entrance exams, and for being in a band with us...”

“...”

“So if there’s something you want to do, hyung, just tell us anytime.”

Park Juu smiled. An orange light flickered across his face.

‘Those people will keep waiting in the scorching sun to persuade you. They’re not the type to let go easily.’

The words of the Bodhisattva from the variety shoot came back to me. The words of thanks for playing in the band with him despite that sloppy rehearsal, the words telling me to say something whenever I wanted to do something—those words overlapped.

Was it because of the salty breeze, or the sound of the sea? Or was it because there was a light that could illuminate a dark sea path?

I imagined myself getting on the boat that these kids were riding. Not the me who used to stand alone and see them off, but me lifting my foot to step onto the small stairs of that boat.

The moon was so bright. In my hand, embers crackled and sparked, and from the pension, the light that had been left on because we had come out in the middle of playing in the living room, the pool shining under the moonlight, and the sparks the kids were holding in their hands while laughing, all illuminated the surroundings.

It was night, yet it was so bright. Bright enough that the darkness around us didn’t feel scary at all.

After returning to the pension, we all watched a movie together. It was a healing movie with a gentle flow, set in a forest in a small rural village. Perhaps because we had just filmed a music video set in an era when the Earth was ending, the peacefulness felt unfamiliar.

Unlike when I watched ‘The Phantom of the Opera’ with Lee Cheonghyeon, this time there was salted popcorn.

Park Juu, Kang Giyeon, and I still ate the unsalted popcorn. Jeong Seongbin nibbled on the salty popcorn, and the rest was happily devoured by Choi Jeho and Lee Cheonghyeon.

『This tree has been watching over this place all along. How we are born and how we grow.』

『But the tree doesn’t tell us what it has seen and heard.』

『Why do you think it can’t speak? The voice of the tree remains everywhere. It is arrogant to judge all things by human standards.』

Ten minutes after this philosophical dialogue, Choi Jeho crossed his arms and started dozing off. Seeing this, Lee Cheonghyeon struggled to hold back his laughter.

At the scene where the tree, which had been like a guardian deity of the village, was instantly cut in half by a stranger looking for high-quality wood, Park Juu held his breath.

『I can just compensate you, can’t I! Even if you call it a guardian deity or whatever, you were just planning to raise it until it was worth money and then sell it off!』

『Don’t you dare talk nonsense!』

Suing for trespassing wouldn’t bring the dead tree back. Besides, they must have done it knowing they couldn’t get wood of that quality for the same price elsewhere. We watched the devastated forest in silence, unable to speak.

“That’s so cruel...”

Jeong Seongbin muttered. I heard a sniffling sound next to me, and saw that Kang Giyeon was holding back tears, his face scrunched up. Amidst all this, Choi Jeho opened his eyes again at the sound of shouting on-screen. What a simple guy, only reacting to auditory stimuli.

When I watched movies with just Lee Cheonghyeon, I would press the pause button until it was worn out, but I couldn’t do that when we were all watching together. So I had to just watch the movie as it flowed.

So this is what it feels like to just go with the flow.

Not feeling anxious even when I’m not doing anything, enjoying the task at hand, and feeling a little sorry, but more so, gratefully enjoying the consideration given to me.

『It must be sad. But what can you do besides finding a new tree?』

『Wait. Until the tree grows back.』

『Even if a new sprout grows, it won’t be the same as the previous tree. Because that tree is dead.』

『I know.』

The white dress of the girl who loved the forest swayed in the wind blowing between the trees. Her pale, thin fingers brushed over the sprout that had grown from the cut stump.

『But I can’t help but love it. Because the roots are not dead.』

I mulled over that line for a long time.

What if, what if so much has changed that my sister is no longer the sister I knew?

Will I be able to endure the sense of disconnect then? Even if, in an extreme case, due to the system’s manipulation, my sister finds me extremely annoying or considers me a burden? Will I be able to not get hurt?

『Because the foundation is eternal.』

Is it okay for me to rely on my sister’s kindness and hope that we can have the same relationship as before?

Wouldn’t that be... putting a burden on my sister yet again?

With a complicated heart, the movie raced towards its second half.

A long time passed, so long that no one knew whose land the forest had become, and one day, the small rural village declined and disappeared.

A child climbing a low hill discovered a strangely shaped tree.

A plant with thin branches sprouting here and there from a hideously cut stump, too bizarre to be called a tree, yet with new flesh growing, too alive to be a dead creature.

The child wanted to ask something about the odd tree standing alone among the others, but he ended up moving on to follow her mother who was walking ahead.

The movie ended with the tree caught at the edge of the frame, under the gaze of the child who kept looking back.

“Humans are bad.”

Lee Cheonghyeon shouted.

“Humans are bad!”

Jeong Seongbin hurriedly pushed a bottle of sparkling water with a straw in it into Lee Cheonghyeon’s mouth. Perhaps because it was sugar-free, the kid didn’t calm down easily.

“Because of this indiscriminate logging, the Earth is turning into a desert, and polluted fine dust is covering the Earth, and we get stuck in a bomb shelter...”

“I picked a healing movie because I felt sorry for you having to breathe in sand dust, but you can’t even wait and get overly immersed.”

“But you cried, Kang Giyeon.”

“I did not cry.”

Lee Cheonghyeon and Kang Giyeon started bickering again. Between them, only Park Juu chewed on his popcorn with a gloomy face.

“The tree must have been a prop, right...?”

“Of course. They wouldn’t actually cut down a real tree just to shoot a movie.”

Jeong Seongbin earnestly consoled Park Juu. Lee Cheonghyeon—bursting with all the social commentaries he’d gathered from that short film—wandered around the living room desperately wanting to talk to someone.

I was the one who was caught by him. After that, without fail, a three-hour discussion masquerading as a movie review session was held. Until Jeong Seongbin told us to go to bed.

We all gathered and talked about ‘Indiscriminate logging, is it really okay?’ and also about whether the new branches that grew from the dead tree were essentially the same tree. The level of interest in the discussion topic varied from person to person, but everyone participated in the conversation.

“People who’ll do pointless things together with you—they’re really precious!”

Lee Cheonghyeon said happily. That alone was enough to say that this vacation had achieved its goal.

The six viewers talked until their throats were hoarse. The vacation night thus drew to a close.

A tranquil air. A refreshed body. A quiet atmosphere.

It was a perfect morning, complete with the chirping of small birds.

Beside me, Choi Jeho was sleeping with his back to me. Perhaps because I had lived in a six-person household for a long time, a space without people now felt strange.

I readjusted my pillow and lay back down. Jeong Seongbin had repeatedly warned me not to get up until the alarm rang.

As I quietly watched the back of Choi Jeho’s head, I remembered the morning of the first day I returned. The day I had prepared to swing a pillow at his head, thinking he was a thief.

That day was the day my life began its reuse.

The day I was given the task of debuting with Spark.

And the day I realized that I had to complete all the missions to meet my sister and prevent myself from being forcibly dragged into Hanpyeong Industries.

I took a slow, deep breath. The movement of Choi Jeho’s shoulders as he stirred in his sleep matched my breathing.

The me of now... was more mentally stable than before.

I felt that my inner self had hardened to some extent. I felt that even if my mind and body became unstable, I would be able to get back up again.

I closed my eyes, which had been watching Choi Jeho. And quietly drifted into thought.

As I inhaled and exhaled in time with his even breathing, my mind felt a little clearer.

It was now time to put into action the ‘countermeasures’ I had been diligently writing in my journal planner for the past few days. If I wanted to achieve the KPI as quickly and safely as possible, and then meet my sister.

I needed something more than just doing what the system told me to do.

And the important key to this, was probably held by my parents.

I had anticipated it in my head, but it was difficult to act rashly. Because I didn’t want to face them. Because it was awkward.

So I postponed it as much as possible. I could have tried to contact them through the company, but I was worried they might run away, so I held my breath and waited.

But now, I had to move. With half a year left until the concert, I needed to reduce variables and gather even a little more information about my sister.

‘I can do it.’

I thought of the members who must be sleeping scattered around the villa. If I were to be pushed back by my parents, these guys wouldn’t just stand by and watch. That was why I could take on this challenge.

Because unlike at the funeral, I wouldn’t have to face them alone this time.

“Hoo.”

I slowly swept a hand over my pounding chest.

There was only one thing I had to do. Make them come to me of their own accord.

If I intervened too much, the system might give me a penalty, saying I abused my authority or something.

I would do my job and draw those people in. I’d collect every bit of information I could about my sister and cut ties cleanly. The system hadn’t set this as a mission, but this was my goal for the second half of the year.

“Hyungs, are you awake?”

Lee Cheonghyeon’s voice came from the bottom of the stairs. Soon after, his head peeked through the doorway. His face, dazzling in the morning sun, woke me up. Beside me, Choi Jeho stirred and sat up.

“That’s my hyungs for you. The way you get up right away when I call, it’s so cute I could die. The maknae is pleased!”

They were familiar words. An ordinary day had begun.