Debut or Die-Chapter 405
Ballerino Seon Ah-hyun had never walked any other path.
His duty was to tread the single lane leading to his destination with care.
The road was sometimes steep or rough, but he could see the goal ahead, and the sense of responsibility that he must not stop drove his feet forward.
Nothing but responsibility.
‘At the very beginning... it was fun.’
How delightful new challenges and expressions were. Dance was an irresistibly attractive pursuit.
But after he suddenly achieved a shockingly overwhelming win at an international competition, everything changed.
‘Ah.’
“Ah-hyun, you were born to do this!”
All other choices disappeared.
An agency attached itself, the press swarmed, fame followed, and tremendous titles and affiliations were bestowed. 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢
Once the perfect, optimal path was revealed, he could no longer attempt anything else.
There was neither reason nor justification to rebel against any expectation or advice. Only a life aiming for ever-greater success through ballet remained.
...Something felt wrong.
‘I haven’t really experienced enough of life to dedicate my entire existence to this.’
Still, it wasn’t unbearable—dance was enjoyable.
‘I can’t try everything I want and choose afterward.’
He’d heard similar counsel in therapy.
Because he wasn’t in such despair as to abandon everything, the counselor provided by his agency never suggested a long break or a career change.
Yet resignation lingered.
A buried certainty about the future.
‘I... I won’t be able to do anything else from now on.’
He had already poured away his childhood and half his youth.
No true friends, no life experience, no proper education.
He could not stray from this orbit.
So now he could not speak any other words. He could not burden the company, his parents, or stakeholders with uncertainty and worry.
He must not ruin this failure-free life.
‘If only I had a nature without doubt or worry.’
Seon Ah-hyun strove tirelessly to become that.
He took no other hobbies, entertained no other relationships or lives. He narrowed the radius of his world.
He would not entertain regrets or curiosity.
And so he prospered.
“This principal ballerino slot belongs to Ah-hyun, of course!”
“Then we’ll shoot just three more ads. Is that okay, Ah-hyun?”
His position grew ever more secure.
He could never break free. He must not fail.
‘Right.’
It was when Seon Ah-hyun’s path had completely solidified that it happened.
They met without warning.
On the corridor of the broadcast station set where he’d stopped by for a schedule check—there sat the contestant from a survival program, looking dejected.
“Um... are you okay?”
His own words of encouragement felt foreign as he spilled them out.
“Good outcomes aren’t the only answers.”
“Choices that don’t cause you pain are answers, too.”
‘I....’
Though he’d never allowed himself to imagine letting go so easily, he didn’t know why his voice sounded so confident.
As if someone else spoke through him.
‘That’s strange.’
Yet those words comforted him, too.
“Alternative paths can be the right answer.”
Even as he believed he himself could never take them.
And astonishingly, the contestant recovered her spirits and achieved a splendid result in a different direction.
“Wow, that turned out amazing.”
“That was the best.”
He was only a one-time mentor, but the whole situation and that person gave him a strange thrill and emotion.
“...Thank you. Thanks to you, I finished my stage well.”
So when Ryu Geon-woo said that to him, he truly wanted to say, “No, I’m the one who’s grateful,” but he felt it might be too much.
‘...If I ever get the chance.’
He wanted to get closer, to express that sincere mindset he’d voiced to that contestant.
So as they exchanged numbers, making that resolution, suddenly in the disappearing corridor he saw...
‘Huh?’
Someone with blond hair wearing in-ear monitors, pulling at a stage costume, spoke to him from backstage.
“...!”
But the fleeting image vanished before his hand could reach it.
It was too vivid to be a mere hallucination.
‘Ah.’
Yet oddly, Seon Ah-hyun did not feel panic.
He simply... felt that it was right. A curious resolve etched itself in his mind, as if correcting something amiss.
‘It’s okay.’
He even wanted to see more. To preserve that fleeting image, he began to recall it over and over.
And thereafter, that image reappeared unpredictably.
When he gazed at the audience seats, when he prepared in the waiting room, when he went to the broadcast station.
When he cautiously reached out to that gloomy idol.
‘Waaa!’
Amid louder crowds, more bustle, more trials and tumults—
But images of a brighter, more heart-throbbing life.
Whenever it happened, Seon Ah-hyun felt confused, yet curiously not anxious that he was headed the wrong way.
Gradually, the images deepened, formed connections, wove a story.
Dotted lines linked the images.
‘What is this?’
Seon Ah-hyun carefully aligned and kept them within.
And now, at this moment.
“You performed this stage at the concert.”
At those words, as if shackles were unlocked, every image filled with sound and movement.
And the cherished fragments gained meaning and became memory.
A real life.
“...Then.”
At last, Seon Ah-hyun realized.
‘Ah.’
He ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) was not a ballerino.
He was Seon Ah-hyun who had failed to become a ballerino and abruptly quit dance.
But...
‘I was happy.’
Seon Ah-hyun had become an idol.
“You held balloons then....”
He remembered the joyous unit stage of his first concert. Then the full-group stage, the afterparty.
The stammering self, the self that gave up, the self that raged, the self that doubted his friend.
“...Moon-dae.”
Failure was okay.
Quitting ballet did not strip value from the self who had learned it.
Even a daily life broken by cruel bullying and abandoned school days could someday recover.
Life does not end shattered.
If you can decide to find a new direction and walk on.
‘That’s right.’
And conversely, living a seemingly perfect life without a dreadful failure did not remove inner anxiety and fear.
That, in fact, had erased the trauma Seon Ah-hyun carried in TeSTAR.
The self-reproach over whether he’d made cowardly choices at life’s crossroads.
‘I... each time, I made the best choice. Just like the others.’
All buried doubts and questions were offset.
From the very first.
The words that held him steady so he would not collapse and could dash down a new path resurfaced.
“Just think, ‘I will do this.’”
And now, he was face to face with the person who had given him that moment.
“So, in the end, you didn’t originally have those memories.”
“Mhm.”
I slipped into the waiting room with Seon Ah-hyun.
He’d already received his award in Part One, so he could return to the audience a bit late—and I hadn’t even been nominated.
Thus I could sit here facing him now.
Seon Ah-hyun nodded and smiled.
“...Now, my memory is fully back.”
Though his appearance was unchanged, it shone in his expression, gestures, and tone. This was the Ah-hyun I knew.
I was momentarily speechless, then managed to reply.
“Good.”
And I held out my hand.
“Welcome back.”
“Mhm...!”
He reached out with both hands and shook mine. He truly was the same.
‘...Well.’
Let’s calm down and get a handle on things. After so long, pleasantries can wait; understanding the situation comes first.
Topic:
– How Seon Ah-hyun regained his senses.
I took a deep breath and got to the point.
He said that after a few fleeting images, my question just now fully “awakened” him, reestablishing his own self.
“Because of the concert story.”
“That’s right...”
If that was the trigger, it meant it had been accumulating all along.
“I thought I could understand what Moon-dae meant... I wanted to understand. So suddenly...”
Each time an image surfaced, he’d remembered it clearly and linked the characters together.
Still, he hadn’t known that “Moon-dae” in his images was me at first...
“How did you recognize that it was Park Moon-dae?”
Seon Ah-hyun’s eyes widened, as if surprised I’d ask such an obvious thing.
“...! Your face—even if it looked a bit different... it was so Moon-dae.”
“Ah.”
“And... because we talked.”
He blushed, then spoke each word earnestly.
“Moon-dae was originally a person named Ryu Geon-woo.”
“...!”
“I remembered... of course I did.”
Ah.
I recalled that day.
After all my clumsy blabbering that bordered on harassment, I’d finally regained my footing at the brink of disaster and convinced Seon Ah-hyun—my own dark little secret.
‘....’
But apparently it hadn’t been in vain.
I resolved to slightly revise my judgment.
Perhaps deciding to speak up hadn’t been a mistake after all.
“Thank you.”
“...! Ah, no! We’re friends, so of course I should.”
Seon Ah-hyun beamed. I couldn’t help but smile too.
‘I thought you’d be thrown into needless turmoil once your memories returned.’
But Seon Ah-hyun showed no sign of anguish or inner conflict.
If anything, he seemed more at ease than before.
‘Bae Se-jin was right.’
“Just because he seems that way on the outside doesn’t mean his insides are the same.”
I concede it. That’s his one point.
Afterward I quickly brought him up to speed on the current situation.
The burden of having to solidify the logic and persuade him... was gone.
“Let’s discuss details after the ceremony on a call.”
“Okay!”
But before too long, we hurried back to the awards hall.
Since I’d performed with the two nominees, I snagged a spare seat at their table’s corner.
Bae Se-jin, who looked poised to ask “Why are you so late?” shifted expression once he checked Seon Ah-hyun’s face.
During the VCR break, he leaned in and whispered to me.
‘You mean right now...?’
I nodded slowly. A broad grin spread across Bae Se-jin’s face.
He immediately nudged Seon Ah-hyun beside him.
‘You!’
‘Hello, Se-jin hyung...!’
I let the excited duo gesticulate. An article about their camaraderie would surely follow. I chuckled as the VCR ended.
The ceremony resumed.
And that night.
[Seon Ah-hyun has entered]
The TeSTAR group chat filled with all seven members.
[Seon Ah-hyun: Hello..!]
[Big Se-jin: Oh my gosh]
[Big Se-jin: Sorry for the swear, but Ah-hyun’s finally hereㅠㅠ Welcome home!]
[Cha Yoo-jin: Wooooow all seven stars assembled (sunglasses emoji)]
[Ryu Cheong-woo: Heard you’re back Ah-hyun, that’s great 😊 Should I call you Ah-hyun hyung?]
[Seon Ah-hyun: It’s truly fine, you don’t have to!]
Lying in bed, I scrolled through the chat as the mixed-age guys nearly tumbled into chaos over honorifics before diving back into lively chat.
Half of them were actually here in the dorm, but the feeling was different.
‘When should I message Ah-hyun?’
I’d let everyone chat a bit more, then share the details soon.
First, I needed to sort out a question in my mind.
‘Hmm.’
Though the outcome was happily resolved... I still needed to deduce why only Seon Ah-hyun had regained his memory on his own.
‘He’s still not in the status window.’
[Yes!]
Meaning the system hadn’t intervened.
Then...
‘...Was there a difference from the others’ awakenings?’
After thinking, one thing struck me.
Seon Ah-hyun never reported headaches or dizziness like the others when they awakened; he simply reclaimed his real-world self naturally.
‘...How?’
As though he’d always had that ability.
“...!”
Right.
I sat up in bed.
It felt like a blow to the head.
[Oooo, did something come to you??]
Yes.
The ability Seon Ah-hyun possessed that differed from the rest.
‘His trait.’
I recalled his trait.
[Resolve (S)]: One forges one’s own mindset, and thus can fully bear it.
– Activates to nullify mental status ailments. (Can stack)
This.
Though Seon Ah-hyun here was rank B, the basic effect of nullifying status ailments remained.
‘So the moment even a fragment of memory returned...’
Once his real-world S-rank trait reactivated, all status ailments would be dispelled.
And thus...
‘...He really did wake up under his own power...??’
An utterly ludicrous feat.
[Wow, Ah-hyun, you’re truly amazing!! Crazy!]
No, that’s not...
‘This is not something to just admire.’
[Huh?]
This was... a hint.
I gripped the edge of the bed.
There was a premise to this logic.
‘This situation itself must be a status ailment.’
[!!!]
Exactly.
Since Seon Ah-hyun’s trait nullifies status ailments, their nullification meant this entire scenario was a “status ailment.”
Like my “Debut or Die,” or Cheongryeo’s “Correction.”
“......”
[That makes sense! If we assumed the system caused this situation while we tried to control it... then the system itself must have induced the status ailment...]
Wait.
‘...We tried to control the system. Right.’
That phrase kept echoing in my mind.
‘If I’d tried to destroy the system...’
And I sensed something amiss.
[Hy-hyung?]
Damn it.
I shot out of the dorm and dashed to another room.
“Ah, perfect timing.”
The room where Cheongryeo was.
Her roommate Joo Dan had gone out for a personal schedule, so she was alone.
She looked up from writing at her desk and continued speaking leisurely.
“About next month’s first awards... the digital music award scoring...”
“We.”
“Huh?”
I bit my tongue to keep from cursing as I said:
“We’ve been mistaken about something.”
“.......”
Let’s think.
I had taken Cheongryeo on a plane to the middle of the Pacific, intending to eliminate the system.
By what method?
By ensuring there was no host in the vicinity for the system to inhabit. That meant the system itself had to be there in the first place.
“To destroy the system, you need whoever holds the system now.”
“.......”
“So that person must’ve been on the plane with us.”
I swallowed hard.
“Who was that?”
I’d completely forgotten.
And yet I felt no dissonance before.
The person in front of me spoke.
“Well, I’m not sure.”
Cheongryeo, still seated at the desk, propped her chin on her hand and frowned thoughtfully...
Wait.
My blood ran cold as I stared at her.
She looked perfectly fine.
This insane control freak showed absolutely no discomfort at being out of control.
That meant...
“You... you remembered, didn’t you?”
“.......”
That someone else was also on the plane.
And...
“That I’d forgotten.”
Cheongryeo closed the notebook she’d been organizing on the desk.
Then she smiled and spoke.
“You’re still clever, junior.”
Damn...! X.
