Little Pink Starfish

Gangnam Art Hall.

We stepped onto the stage right on schedule.

Waaaah―!!

My head spun for a moment. Though the venue was far smaller than a concert hall, the intensity of the cheers felt far more concentrated.

Right alongside it came the sound of cameras clicking from all directions.

We shouted brightly in unison.

“Hello! We’re LAUREA!”

Looking out at the bustling crowd, a smile spread across my face. At the same time, I began to feel conflicted, thinking about all the fans who had purchased multiple albums just for a chance to talk to us for a few moments.

We sat down in our designated seats, just as we’d been instructed. Min Heejae sat at the very first seat. I was at the very last.

“You’re super nervous, huh?”

Han Iro whispered as he took the seat next to mine.

I’d imagined getting Rowen’s autograph countless times as a kid, but I never thought I’d be the one giving out autographs someday.

“Well, no big deal. We’ll be doing this often now, so you’ll get used to it.”

Noticing how hard I was trying to hide my nervousness, Iro grinned and turned his head away.

‘…He really does seem like Rowen when he’s like that.’

I scratched the back of my neck and frowned slightly.

But there wasn’t any time to stay nervous. Based on the distributed number tickets, the fansign began. Each of us started chatting with fans in our own style.

“Do you have any favorite music?”

Min Heejae naturally steered the conversation toward music.

Watching him from afar, I thought—he really did look like a student majoring in classical music. His outfit was refined, like he belonged at a piano.

One fan happened to mention they liked classical music, and he lit up.

“Ah… I enjoy all genres, but yes, I do have a soft spot for classical.”

Heejae smiled gently.

“Classical as a concept applies not only to music but also to literature and fine art, but strangely, it has become a genre unto itself only in music.”

He added that he liked that about it.

‘He really does seem happiest when he’s talking about music.’

I stared at him blankly, thinking that.

“Were you comfortable getting here?”

Meanwhile, Madojin was speaking to each fan with what might be considered excessive politeness.

“May I ask where you’d like me to sign?”

He was like a butler straight out of a novel.

‘He’s super nervous…’

I wouldn’t have known before, but now I had a rough sense of how Madojin’s inner workings functioned.

The more robotic he acted, the more nervous he was. It made sense.

Still, the way his neatly styled hair and composed tone came together was eerily well-matched.

“I hope you’ll return home comfortably.”

He said this with a polite bow.

‘Looks like nothing’s going wrong, at least…’

I let out a small sigh of relief.

“Can I draw you a sheep? Please let me draw a sheep…”

Jeong Noeul was beaming like an excited child, pleading with fans to let him draw sheep.

“This one breathes fire…”

He was fully synced up with his Traveler from Asteroid B-612 persona.

“And this one has tone-deafness as its complex.”

Being the youngest helped, but Noeul’s way of giving each sheep its own quirky character seemed to be going over very well with fans.

‘Well, it is cute…’

I smiled at the thought.

“Did you eat before coming? I had a salad Eunyul made for me this morning.”

On the other hand, Han Iro steered conversations with fans toward the most everyday of topics.

And that impressed me.

He wasn’t trying to tailor the topic to himself—he simply found common ground between the fans’ daily lives and his own.

“Yeah, it can be suffocating on the subway during rush hour. But riding the bus when you’re feeling off can make you carsick…”

He was definitely born to act.

Even while talking with complete strangers, he wore a bright, familiar smile as if he were speaking with old friends. I couldn’t help but admire that.

And then there was me….

“This is my first time seeing you this close.”

A fan standing in front of me spoke.

I nodded.

“Right.”

I smiled awkwardly.

“So I’m really… nervous.”

I decided to just be honest.

“Aw. If we’re comparing nerves, I think I’m worse off…”

The fan’s cheerful laugh eased my nerves just a bit.

I steadied my mind and looked more closely at the fan in front of me.

‘…Hm?’

They looked familiar somehow.

Was it just my imagination?

“This is a gift.”

“Ah… thank you.”

I accepted the wrapped present the fan offered.

“I’m shy, so please don’t open it here. Check it later when you’re alone, okay?”

“Haha… I promise.”

The atmosphere felt different from the fans I’d met earlier.

With other fans, the mood had always been a mutual mix of awkwardness and excitement, but the person now standing before me only claimed to be nervous—they were clearly in control of the conversation.

And this strange sense of déjà vu wouldn’t go away. It felt like I’d seen them walking around somewhere before.

“Is there a phrase you’d like me to include with the autograph?”

I asked cautiously.

They smiled faintly.

“Sugarbomb.”

The fan—Sugarbomb—revealed their identity without hesitation.

Thunk.

I dropped the name pen I was holding.

Fumbling, I picked it up and looked up at Sugarbomb. Han Iro, sitting beside me and overhearing the conversation, subtly turned his attention toward us as well.

“I, um…”

I was so flustered I struggled to find words.

Even in mid-winter, sweat was dripping down my face.

“Thank you… for filming my fancams.”

I managed to say that, at least.

“And… also for filming Rowen-sunbae’s fancams back in the day…”

Mumbling, I somehow finished the autograph.

“No need to thank me.”

Sugarbomb smiled sweetly.

“I just do it because I enjoy it.”

“R-Right… I like Rowen-sunbae too…”

What the hell was I even saying?

I wanted to rip my own hair out.

I was grateful, truly. But for some reason, I’d had a bad feeling from the very first time Sugarbomb filmed me—that something bad would happen if I got involved with this person.

And right now, I felt the same.

“Looks like my time’s up.”

Sugarbomb glanced around.

“Oh, and my real name is Choi Suyeon.”

She whispered to me.

“I run another account besides the Sugarbomb channel. I think I’ll need your help with both of them.”

After murmuring that, Sugarbomb turned and walked away.

Another account?

She needs my help with both channels?

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

I looked down at the wrapped present she’d handed me.

‘This…’

Surely it doesn’t have anything weird inside, right?

---

‘Why’s he freaking out like that?’

Watching the bewildered Ryu Eunyul, Han Iro couldn’t help but wonder.

Ever since his conversation with Sugarbomb, he’d been acting like something inside him had snapped. But there wasn’t time to chat casually and calm him down.

‘Meeting your fansite master should be a happy moment, right?’

Even as the question crossed his mind…

‘Sugarbomb…’

Iro’s intuition was starting to tilt toward something ominous.

‘She didn’t seem like she came here purely out of fan love.’

He couldn’t explain it, but he was sure she had another purpose.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t act right away to uncover anything more.

Above all—

[The Constellation ‘Love Born with Bubbles’ issues a warning.]

A threatening voice echoed in Han Iro’s head.

[An enemy Constellation is watching you—one who bears hostility toward Ryu Eunyul.]

What was that supposed to mean?

A Constellation hostile toward Ryu Eunyul?

When did Eunyul ever do anything to offend a Constellation?

Did it even make sense for a Constellation to be hostile toward a mere human?

Keeping a bright smile as he chatted with fans, Han Iro mulled over the voice’s meaning.

[The Constellation ‘Love Born with Bubbles’ apologizes for not being able to tell you more.]

[But dearest child, not all gods are required to love humans.]

That was true.

If every god loved humans, that would be the strangest thing of all.

To a god, humans were just another species populating the world. Anything more would be unsettling.

That’s why—

Because humans were strangely favored by gods more than any other species—

‘I wonder if that’s why humans have their own uniquely disturbing aspects.’

Han Iro thought to himself.

Where there are good gods, there must also be evil ones. Especially because morality is defined entirely by human ethics.

[The Constellation ‘Love Born with Bubbles’ agrees with your thoughts.]

[Just because a god is hostile to humans doesn’t mean they are an enemy of the world.]

[Therefore, even if a Constellation steps into this place with hostility, they will not harm you.]

[They merely…]

Are hostile toward Ryu Eunyul.

‘But if they’re hostile toward Eunyul… doesn’t that mean they’re hostile toward me too?’

Han Iro asked the Constellation silently.

[The Constellation ‘Love Born with Bubbles’ denies that.]

[They find it rather fascinating.]

[They seem deeply curious as to why you are here.]

[The Constellation ‘Love Born with Bubbles’ affirms it.]

‘Curious about me…?’

As another fan finished and left, Han Iro thought quietly.

‘Does that mean a Constellation hostile to Eunyul is one of my fans?’

He couldn’t make heads or tails of it.

If a hostile Constellation was truly curious about him, he almost wished they’d just show themselves.

‘But… that’s impossible, huh.’

A Constellation couldn’t reveal themselves in the human realm.

That’s what he thought—until he heard a voice above him.

<Good day.>

“Ah—! Hello!”

Han Iro quickly put on a bright smile and looked up.

‘…Huh?’

His eyes widened.

‘…Burn scars?’

He thought without meaning to.

The woman standing before him.

At a glance, she looked ordinary—but between the sleeves of her clothes, the edge of a burn scar peeked through, drawing Han Iro’s gaze.

Anyone else wouldn’t have noticed. The exposed area was small, just a sliver beyond her sleeve.

But Han Iro had experienced burns himself—if the Love Born with Bubbles revoked their power, his own scars would reappear. That’s how he recognized it.

“…Hello? Welcome!”

Effortlessly adjusting his expression—

Han Iro decided to pretend he hadn’t seen the scar.