Where does déjà vu toward another person come from?
We infer familiarity from a stranger’s breath as they speak to us for the first time. We feel a sense of recognition toward a passerby we only happened to see on the street.
It feels special, yet it’s not actually special at all. At best, we’re vaguely surprised in the moment we experience it. As life progresses, it seems more like we retroactively fit the world’s faces into fragments of our past to sustain that sense of familiarity.
Just like how a mother might look at her child and say they resemble her deceased father.
But still—
Even so—
Why is my chest so full of unease?
I sat on the edge of my bed, lost in thought.
“Ah, Chaeya! Did you enjoy your outing?”
Han Iro’s voice echoed from the living room.
<Ha ha… Yes. I had a very enjoyable time. Would you like some snacks?>
“Ah, it’s the thought that counts! I’m not much for sweets….”
<That’s unfortunate.>
“Give me some!”
Jeong Noeul’s voice jumped in.
“Wow, you really brought back a ton! How many can I take? I want this one, and this one, and this one, and this…”
<Could you please exercise some moderation?>
“Stop eating, Jeong Noeul.”
“…That’s so mean.”
Noeul must have returned to his room after being tag-teamed by Chaeya and Iro. I heard a door shut.
And then—
<…I have returned.>
Chaeya opened the door and walked in.
“You really went all-out, huh.”
His arms were full of elegantly designed shopping bags in all kinds of colors. Just imagining how many snacks were packed in those made my head hurt—where was I even going to store them?<There are even more being shipped separately. It was truly a splendid place. An event filled with snacks tempting enough to lure Hansel and Gretel.>
“Sounds like it.”
I peeked into one of the bags and pulled out a sleekly packaged box of cookies.
<Would you like to try one?>
“I’ll have some tomorrow morning with coffee. It’s too late now.”
<As you wish. It’s not like I desire to hoard all these snacks. I bought them because wages have no use to me.>
Fair enough.
Money probably doesn’t mean much to someone like Chaeya. He could easily provide for himself in all the basics.
“I want to ask you something.”
I scratched the back of my neck as I spoke.
Asking it out loud made me feel awkward.
“Jun-a and my dad… there really isn’t any connection between them, right?”
<At this point, you’re just being obsessive, creature.>
Chaeya scowled.
<Do you really think I’d lie about something like that?>
I didn’t.
Chaeya had lied about minor things plenty of times, but never about anything truly important.
Still, even to me, it felt odd that this sense wouldn’t go away.
In that case, let’s rephrase the question.
“You’re not hiding anything from me lately, are you?”
<…Not at all.>
You are.
No way we formed a pact for nothing—this guy has the worst poker face.
Jun-a and Dad probably aren’t connected. Even if they are, it would be something negligible, like a fragment of Dad’s shattered soul somehow ending up in Jun-a, as Madojin once speculated.
And I had no desire to go chasing after that.
<You seem to forget, because you’re so used to thinking like a human… but I can read your thoughts.>
Chaeya suddenly said.
<What’s this about my expression? Regardless, I’m not hiding anything from you. There may be things I choose not to mention, sure.>
“That’s basically the same thing.”
I let out a quiet laugh.
<It is not. To hide something from you would be deceit. To not mention something is consideration.>
Because the latter is something I can handle myself… he muttered, arms folded.
<Michael and I are the strongest transcendents located at the polar ends of this world. Of course, we are no match for the Creator, Papa. CYB is essentially a stage for constellations to play—a domain we should not interfere in. I am supposed to be guarding the throne in Hell, and Michael should be managing affairs in Heaven.>
He was right.
CYB is a stage for constellations to elevate their divinity through belief. Transcendents far above that level shouldn’t need to form contracts with mortals.
Well, Chaeya only formed one to reclaim his constellation privileges… but Michael’s case was murkier.
He’d said it was to take responsibility for Madojin, who was born from Enoch’s deviation. But that didn’t mean Michaelspecifically had to be the one to do it—there were plenty of angels.
“So… you’re saying you have another reason for being in this world?”
Chaeya nodded.
<It’s not something you need to concern yourself with. Just enjoy the world like a good little creature.>
So they have some kind of agenda among transcendents.
“And if I asked what it was, you wouldn’t tell me, would you?”
I asked with a smile.<Of course not.>
He scoffed.
<However…>
Knew it.
This guy was surprisingly soft-hearted.
<…When we find the time, I’ll show you. I figured it’d be better to take you along anyway.>
“Show me what?”<The Bearer of the Cursed Grail.>
A demon who crossed over into this world through an SS-rank Gate in the East Sea.<The fate of a creature who could not become a constellation.>
But having time to spare was a long way off.
Because today was the showcase.
We woke up before dawn and scrambled to get ready.
Maybe I got three hours of sleep.
My vision felt blurry, like someone had poked holes in my eyes.
Yesterday alone had been a drain—member interviews and filming for episode 2 of the reality show back-to-back. There was no time for final checks or run-throughs of the stage.
“…I’m dying.”
Iro’s voice came from the back seat.
If even health nut Han Iro was on his second energy drink, things were serious.
“Iro hyung… why’s the bed shaking?”
Jeong Noeul, sitting next to him, asked.
“Because we’re in a car.”
Iro replied with a sigh.
“Oh… I always wanted one of those car-shaped beds as a kid.”
Noeul still seemed to think he was lying in a bed.
“Manager, do you think we’ll make it on time?”
Min Heejae asked.
“Traffic seems a little rough…”
It wasn’t even sunrise yet, but already rush hour.
And of course, the venue was in Gangnam. We were getting a first-hand experience of the cursed Gangnam Ring Expressway.
<It’s alright, Mr. Heejae. Please rest.>
Chaeya, hands on the wheel, said calmly.
<I cannot vaporize these damned wheeled beasts, can I…>
That line came only into my head.
“Um… everyone…”
I turned to face the back seat.
“We’ve practiced hard, and we’ve all got this—so let’s not worry too much.”
I was trying to shake off the slump hanging over us.
“…Wait. You’re saying we’re on our way to the showcase?”
Noeul squinted at me.
“Of course. Time to wake up, Noeul.”
Iro pressed the cold can of energy drink to Noeul’s cheek.
Startled, Noeul blinked wide-eyed and looked around, unsure if it was the cold or the shock of the situation that got to him.
“You’re right, about instruments.”
Heejae spoke.
“Everyone’s worked hard. Let’s give the reporters a real show.”
I didn’t expect Heejae to be the one saying something like that. Then again, maybe he was just exhausted too.
“Our training volume is more than sufficient.”
Madojin spoke with arms folded.
Not a hint of fatigue in his voice.
“So there’s no need to be nervous. Of course, we can’t rule out all variables. A stage light might suddenly fall…”
“Doin.”
“…Apologies, Eunyul.”
Looks like even he was nervous.
<The road’s finally clearing.>
As Chaeya said that—
The car surged forward, gliding between vehicles.
Thankfully, we made it to the venue in time.
The Gangnam Live Hall.
That’s where our showcase was being held.
As the winners of CYB’s male idol division, and regardless of our skill, we guaranteed clicks. Reporters swarmed the place.
It didn’t matter if we did well or poorly.
Either way, we were a team that guaranteed buzz.
The audience must’ve been buzzing with excitement, eyes gleaming with anticipation.
We changed into our outfits right away.
Monotone, cleanly tailored suits.
Though the music video had a roleplay concept, the stage outfits were kept basic to counterbalance it.
Using muted colors helped highlight the city pop aesthetic, too.
To say I wasn’t nervous would be a lie. The music video’s views were encouraging, but it was only natural for a project team of high-ranking contestants to attract attention early on.
“Hoo…”
I leaned against the hallway wall and exhaled deeply.
“Let’s do this.”
I said aloud, and was about to walk toward where the others were waiting—
When—
“There you are.”
An all-too-familiar voice spoke behind me.
A voice I did not want to hear.
I turned around.
“Aiden….”
Why was he here?
“…Sunbae?”
Aiden stood behind me, smiling softly.
“Good to see you, Ryu Eunyul.”
No…
He extended his hand.
“You’re not a contestant anymore, right?”
“Ah, right…”
Dazed, I took his hand.
“What brings you here today, sunbae?”
“Just came to watch.”
He replied casually.
Yeah, right. “Just to watch,” my ass.
A thousand bitter thoughts rose up inside me, but I kept them buried and responded with a polite smile.
“It’s Laureau’s first stage, isn’t it? I couldn’t miss an event for a debuting team from the CYB season I judged. I’m looking forward to it.”
“…Thank you.”
“Where are the other members? I came to say a few words of encouragement.”
What do I do?
Can I really let this man near the others?
Of course not.
He was unpredictable.
So how do I turn him away?
Forget that. I just needed to get out of this situation.
<…Ryu Eunyul.>
Chaeya’s voice suddenly rang out from the end of the hall.
“Ah—! Manager!”
I called out toward the faintly visible figure of Chaeya.
<We need to get on stage. What are you doing here?>
Chaeya said in his usual businesslike tone, but then his expression sharpened as he looked at Aiden.
Aiden, smiling serenely, met his gaze.
<Ah…>
Chaeya narrowed his eyes.
<Receiving some encouragement from a great and noble sunbae, were we?>
Little Pink Starfish 
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