The backstory behind the sudden talk about watching a sunrise went like this.

Lee Cheonghyeon, who had stepped into someone else’s room for a moment to borrow something from Kang Giyeon, found Park Juu having a healing time while watching temple videos.

With no rough edges between them, the two, who normally got along, sat side by side and, as they often did, took a deep interest in each other’s activities and chatted.

Stuck shoulder to shoulder, watching “Touring Korean Temples” and “Finding Nature in the City” on a single little spare phone screen, they were led by the algorithm all the way to “Top 10 New Year’s Sunrises You’ll Regret Missing.”

The blazing-red sunrise that is said to announce the start of a new year left a strong impression on Park Juu, who usually doesn’t go out much, and on Lee Cheonghyeon, who spent his childhood doing nothing but study.

Now that debut was close, it would be nice if everyone went to see the sunrise together.

How great would it be to strengthen teamwork while looking at a beautiful view together!

That’s what the two of them thought. And they ran straight to the leader, the one with decision-making power for group activities. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

Hearing the story, Jeong Seongbin supposedly said it was a really good idea and agreed. Kang Giyeon said he’d go if all the members went.

“...What did Choi Jeho say?”

“Jeho said he’s in!”

“Him? You’re not joking?”

“Yeah. He said he’s been feeling stiff lately anyway.”

What Lee Cheonghyeon said was pure shock.

Willing to join even a group outing that wasn’t for work? And the reason for going was to loosen up his body? For a kid who’s danced every kind of dance, I guess the training so far still wasn’t enough.

While I was dumbfounded, Lee Cheonghyeon went ahead and started selling me on it by flat-out showing me photos of a temple.

“How about here? It’s a little over 2 km. At that distance it seems doable, right?”

Kid, you think 2 km in the mountains is the same as 2 km on flat ground.

Suddenly I found myself hoping this young friend would collect all two hundred “notable mountain” stamps someday. I should tell him to try it next time.

Anyway, if everyone wanted to go see the sunrise, we had to avoid the temple Lee Cheonghyeon picked. The view there isn’t great.

“Catching a New Year’s sunrise really comes down to luck.”

Manager Nam dragged me around for years, but I never saw one that made me go “That’s it.”

Thanks to that, I had to trudge down with shoulders about to burst from carrying both Manager Nam’s cup ramen and his thermos, plus eardrums already blown out from listening to him for three hours rant that he’d come how many times and still hadn’t seen a sunrise once and that my luck was rotten.

So the kid wouldn’t get his young soul bruised, I told him in advance that seeing a sunrise depends that much on luck, and that we all know there’s actually no difference between the sun that rises on December 31 and the sun that rises on January 1.

Then Lee Cheonghyeon answered like this.

“If it’s that hard to see and we go this time and catch our very first one? That’s huge, right!”

I’m telling you, it doesn’t just pop out on command.

My chest felt tight, like chewing on a cold hardtack biscuit. We hadn’t even started hiking and I was already tired.

The one saving grace was that this hike would be with a younger generation that’s good at searching things up.

They’re young, so unlike Manager Nam’s crew, they’ll know to bring what they need. At least I won’t have to scrape for trekking-pole info on shopping sites.

Sure enough, Jeong Seongbin and Lee Cheonghyeon were already searching the internet for hiking gear and routes.

“It’s winter, so it’ll be really cold, right? Anyone without a scarf?”

“I only have practice sneakers. Wearing practice shoes on a mountain is a bit much, right? We’re not going that high, so are Converse okay?”

Whether they took my silence as permission or what, they were buzzing.

Apart from their enthusiasm, there were more than a few worrying bits in that short exchange, but I didn’t bother to butt in.

Watching a sunrise isn’t part of any KPI about becoming an idol.

Why should I volunteer to take care of them off the clock...?

“Kang Giyeon, you wearing a puffer?”

“It’ll be hot once we’re climbing. Let’s dress light.”

Hold it. I think the two youngest just had a disrespectful conversation.

“We can just bring heat packs.”

“There’s nowhere to toss trash on a mountain. What are you bringing all that for. Lee Cheonghyeon, you hardly get cold anyway. Just dress reasonably.”

“Reasonably, my foot. You want everyone to catch the flu? You want to do the debut stage in front of a pharmacy?!”

A shout burst out of me before I knew it. The members stared at me with round eyes.

What am I going to do with you, you soon-to-be frozen pollocks who don’t know the cold of a winter mountain...

At dawn on January 1, we all climbed a snow-covered mountain under the guidance of the manager.

Air so cold it could cut skin seeped right through the puffer the manager lent me. My breath blurred my vision.

“Wow, if we hadn’t listened to Iwol, we would’ve frozen to death...”

Bundled in a neck warmer, thermal wear, and heat packs, Lee Cheonghyeon ran a hand down his forearm.

Of course. You think you only wait an hour or two for the sun to rise?

Standing still for hours in a pitch-black winter mountain is no joke. Aside from stamina, you have to fight the cold.

I kept a steady supply of hot honey-ginger tea we’d brought from the dorm so the precious vocalists wouldn’t ruin their throats in the chill wind.

On their shoes were the ice cleats I ordered the moment the topic of a sunrise came up.

In their hands were hiking poles I ended up researching and ordering myself.

Too much gear? Better a hundred layers than one twisted ankle on a mountain right before debut. From now on I should just sign up for a hiking-gear shop membership.

“When does the sun come up?”

Kang Giyeon asked. Judging by the snow all over his gloves, he and Lee Cheonghyeon had gone to stack a nice stone pagoda.

“Soon. You built a cairn because you said you were going to make wishes when it rises?”

“Lee Cheonghyeon insisted wishing twice would make it come true twice.”

How fresh.

But the world isn’t that easy. I prayed every day for Hanpyeong Industries to fire me and it never happened.

Just as I was about to sink into memories of offering a hundred-day prayer, Choi Jeho, who was sharing fish-cake soup with the manager, called out to us.

“Hey, isn’t that the sun coming up?”

“Hm?”

No way.

A proper sunrise is harder to catch than you think.

If the weather’s even a little cloudy, the sun slips behind clouds and the day just brightens without a sound more often than not.

And even if the sky is clear, it’s still too early to see it yet.

“Oh, it’s real!”

“Come on, hurry...!”

Jeong Seongbin and Park Juu shouted to us. A faint cinnabar glow was touching their faces.

I told them and told them not to strain their voices in the cold.

I told them not to run on the mountain, too, but Lee Cheonghyeon and Kang Giyeon were already dashing over to where the others were.

They all looked like they needed some discipline.

But before that.

“How is it, Seongbin? Good thing we came, right?”

“Yeah. It’s really gorgeous. Right, Juu?”

“...Yeah. Good thing we came.”

“Jeho, you make the wish for all of us. You’re the eldest.”

“Why do you always pick on me, Kang Giyeon? Make Kim Iwol do it.”

Amid the crowd marveling at the rising sun, I spoke to the kids muttering among themselves.

“Enough. Make your wishes before the sun’s all the way up. That’s why you came.”

At my words, three of them, starting with Jeong Seongbin, closed their eyes. Three of them, everyone except Kang Giyeon, even put their hands together.

I went up to Choi Jeho, who was standing there with his arms crossed, and asked:

“Why aren’t you making a wish?”

Choi Jeho made a face like it was creepy.

There we go. You followed along so calmly I thought you wanted to make a wish too.

Glancing between my expression and the younger ones praying, he stood crooked ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) and closed his eyes as if to play along.

I borrowed the manager’s phone and took a picture of the five boys standing in a line, eyes closed, bathed in the morning light, making their wishes.

And while they made their wishes to their hearts’ content, I quietly watched the sun rise.

A wish.

A wish, huh.

The only wish-wish I ever made in my life was that I wanted to resign.

Commemorating the first sunrise I had ever seen on a mountain I’d climbed so many times, I made, for the first time, a wish that wasn’t about resigning.

“I hope she’s happy until we meet again.”

...That’s what I wished.

Sure enough, no sooner had I made my wish than Lee Cheonghyeon came running over and asked:

“Hey! What did you wish for?”

“I wished there wouldn’t be a single voice crack on the first broadcast.”

“Gasp... I should have wished for that too.”

And so I trod down the snowy path with five troublemakers I would have to part with on the day my wish came true.

Unless you skip practice for days, there’s no reason you suddenly can’t dance what you could dance well.

Naturally, dance practice right before debut wasn’t about fixing what you couldn’t do, but about pushing completeness even higher.

Singing was the same. So was practicing facing the camera, and the team chant.

If everything was a reinforcement concept to show a better version, there was exactly one thing whose nature was different.

“Seongbin, can we eat dinner early today...”

“Are you hungry, Giyeon...?”

Dieting, the lifelong homework of idols.

The Spark kids are thorough about self-management.

In the last seven years they never once strayed from their course. Even in the photos that ran with their disbandment article, their jawlines were sharp.

Which also meant they were always maintaining extreme physical condition.

At least Kang Giyeon had been eating a dinner with chicken breast so he could grow taller, but now that debut was right in front of us, even he had to eat only greens without exception.

Beside him, Lee Cheonghyeon wore the face of someone who had seen the whole world. Be grateful that thanks to me you at least have the choice of exercise plus diet control.

“I want fried chicken... plain fried...”

“Then I’ll take the pickled radish...”

Even Park Juu, whose appetite tends to zero, was mumbling weird things next to Lee Cheonghyeon, who wanted chicken.

I went up to the two wilted scallions and said:

“You can eat chicken and then work out more.”

“Do you know how many calories chicken has! It’ll take way more than an hour or two to make up for that!”

“You do know. Then endure.”

“Seriously, if someone pokes you, ice shards will come out instead of blood.”

Grumbling, Lee Cheonghyeon stood up right away.

“It is about time they hit a wall.”

It made no sense for kids, at the age when they should be eating heartily, to not even sneak a snack.

From Mr. Park Juu, who is unseasoned to the bone, to Kang Giyeon, whose life motto is obviously “Even a ghost that dies eating looks good,” the lineup had enough variety that, somehow, up till now they’d managed to hold out while looking at each other.

I couldn’t even remember the last time I ate spicy chewy noodles.

The sauce at that place was really good. A shame.

“Eating less and moving more does make you hungry.”

Jeong Seongbin gave an awkward smile.

This was a problem. A kid who almost never voices complaints saying that meant his belly was stuck to his back.

Then Jeong Seongbin scratched his head and laughed.

Watching a kid like that, out of nowhere, my childhood where I was hungry every day came back to me.