Chapter 26: Flickering in the Dark

“……”

Ji-tae’s eyes, chasing the ball on the screen, sank slightly.

After somehow passing the time, Ji-tae got back into the car again like earlier.

Maybe because it was an in-between hour, traffic wasn’t as bad as he had worried.

Thanks to that, he arrived a little earlier than planned.

He parked in the club’s lot and stepped out to loosen up his stiff body from driving.

As he absentmindedly looked around, a familiar franchise café caught his eye.

“Maybe I should grab some coffee.”

Woojoo must be tired from training, so he wanted to at least get him something.

Ji-tae took his wallet and went into the café he had already picked out.

The part-timer, who had been giving a lifeless greeting, suddenly gasped and clapped a hand over their mouth at the sight of him.

“One iced Americano to go.”

Ji-tae put on his fan-service smile and smoothly placed his order.

With the coffee in hand, he headed back toward the parking lot, thinking he should text Woojoo soon.

That was when he spotted a familiar figure in the distance.

“Kang Woo—.”

Ji-tae’s expression brightened slightly, only to return to blankness the next moment.

Woojoo wasn’t alone.

A man stood beside him, casually draping an arm around his shoulders.

At that moment, Woojoo reached out toward the man’s face.

Ji-tae blinked slowly.

The coffee slipped from his hand and hit the asphalt with a dull thud.

Before he realized it—

“Won Ji-tae?”

He had already stepped between them and grabbed Woojoo’s wrist, pulling it away.

“When did you get here?”

Without answering, Ji-tae shifted his gaze to the man beside Woojoo.

Choi Seokhyun looked startled, his eyes wide as he silently asked Woojoo what was going on.

“…Just now. I was about to call you.”

“Oh, really?”

Woojoo cleared his throat awkwardly, then quickly introduced Seokhyun.

He also briefly explained why Won Ji-tae had suddenly appeared.

“Oh, that’s what it was?

If someone was coming to pick you up, you should’ve said so earlier.”

Seokhyun broke into an easy smile.

He seemed genuinely excited to have run into a celebrity—especially a famous one—so unexpectedly.

“You didn’t give me a chance to say it.”

“Sorry.

Um… my apologies.”

Seokhyun gave a slight bow to Ji-tae in greeting and apology.

But the person receiving it didn’t move an inch.

“Then I’ll head out first.”

Fortunately, Seokhyun didn’t seem to notice Ji-tae’s reaction.

He was probably too thrilled to realize he hadn’t gotten a reply.

But Woojoo saw it.

The unreadable look Ji-tae gave his teammate.

“Yeah. Get home safe.”

As they watched Seokhyun leave, Ji-tae turned and started walking first.

Woojoo scratched his head and faithfully followed behind.

“Hey.”

“What.”

“Did something… happen?

You seem off.”

“Why would you ask that?”

Ji-tae skillfully pulled out of the parking lot, not even glancing at the passenger seat as he replied coolly.

“Just.

You kind of look like it.”

“Nothing happened.”

“Oh. Okay.”

After that exchange, a silence settled between them—familiar, yet strangely unfamiliar.

It was the same silence from the day they went grocery shopping, but somehow it felt different.

“Are you always that comfortable with your teammates?”

They had entered the highway when Won Ji-tae, who had been quiet the whole time, suddenly asked.

“What are you talking about?”

“Nothing.

You just seemed really close.”

“Of course we’re close.

We’re on the same team.”

At Woojoo’s matter-of-fact answer, veins began to stand out on the back of Ji-tae’s hand gripping the steering wheel.

“Very close?”

“You mean Choi Seokhyun?

We’re the same age and joined around the same time.

He’s the one I’m closest to.”

Woojoo casually typed a quick “Good work today” into the team group chat.

He turned off the screen and was about to ask why Ji-tae was asking, but he stopped.

The side profile he saw was cold—almost frighteningly so.

So much so that it made him hesitate to speak.

That was the end of their conversation.

On the way home, Woojoo closed his eyes, pretending to sleep.

He wasn’t actually tired enough to knock out immediately, but in the gap left by their stalled conversation, pretending to sleep felt like the only option.

After making and eating dinner at home, they discussed what to do for their additional hobby activity that week.

But they couldn’t reach a conclusion.

Maybe Woojoo really had become tired from pretending, or maybe it was because he hadn’t trained like that in a while—he looked genuinely exhausted.

In the end, they postponed the discussion and Woojoo went to his room first, collapsing onto the bed.

Ji-tae also went upstairs to spend some time alone.

But as midnight approached, instead of feeling sleepy, he felt strangely more awake.

The image of Woojoo reaching out toward his teammate replayed endlessly in his mind.

It was unbearably unpleasant.

Finally, Ji-tae kicked off the blanket and tore off his sleep mask and earplugs.

He threw on a jacket and, as if possessed, went out into the garden.

Maybe some fresh air would calm his noisy, unpleasant thoughts.

“Oh, Ji-tae?”

From afar, Producer Kwon approached with a flashlight, smiling.

“…You’re not asleep?”

Ji-tae stared at him for a moment before lowering his head.

“No. Just doing a light patrol.

As you can see, this place is pretty remote.”

Producer Kwon waved the flashlight demonstratively.

“What about you?”

“Can’t sleep.”

Kwon nodded slowly.

It was late, and everyone—including Kang Woojoo and the entire production team—had gone to bed.

Only Ji-tae and Kwon stood in the garden.

Kwon looked up at the pitch-black sky and then clicked the flashlight off.

Darkness swallowed them instantly.

“You’re not sleeping too little, are you?”

Breaking the brief silence, Kwon spoke first.

His voice had subtly changed.

Ji-tae glanced around before frowning deeply.

Sensing why, Kwon shook his head.

“No one’s around.”

“Still. Be careful.”

“So, are you sleeping well?”

Kwon Sunhyuk rummaged through his pocket and pulled out a cigarette and lighter.

Brushing back his messy hair, he naturally placed the cigarette between his lips.

“It’s not serious.

There are nights I sleep pretty deeply.”

“That’s good.

Want one?”

Sunhyuk shook the cigarette pack toward Ji-tae.

Ji-tae stared at it for a moment, then looked away.

“I quit.”

“What? Really? Since when?”

“Before this shoot started.”

Sunhyuk’s eyes widened in surprise.

They had smoked enough together to build a tower out of the cigarette butts.

Though not as much as Sunhyuk, Ji-tae had once been a heavy smoker himself.

The fact that he quit was shocking—almost betrayal-worthy.

“You’re getting old, huh?

Thinking about your health now?”

“It’s not that.”

Sunhyuk turned his head and exhaled smoke into the air.

“Then why?”

“…Woojoo might not like it.

The smell.”

He added that Woojoo was an athlete, so he’d probably be sensitive.

At Ji-tae’s low voice, Sunhyuk blinked slowly, as if doubting what he had just heard.

“You’re unbelievable.

If you’re that considerate, why do you two fight every other day?”

“That’s…! Kang Woojoo…!”

Sunhyuk hit the nail on the head, and Ji-tae flared up.

But he had no proper rebuttal.

“I don’t want to be like that either, but when I’m in front of him, I just end up like that.”

Ji-tae let out a deep sigh.

Reuniting with Kang Woojoo had made him realize something—

His thoughts, words, and actions were all separate things.

He had no idea why he became so childish only in front of Woojoo.

“Sounds like your mental age got stuck back then.”

“I don’t want to hear that from you.”

Having finished his cigarette, Sunhyuk ruffled Ji-tae’s hair, teasing that he really had no filter.

“Filming’s not too hard?”

“Why are you asking again?

You asked last time.”

“That was as a producer.”

Sunhyuk smirked, as if this question wasn’t coming from a broadcasting professional.

“Nothing uncomfortable.”

Ji-tae had been in the entertainment industry long enough.

At first, adjusting had been difficult, not knowing how things worked.

But not anymore.

He had done variety shows, even appeared on observational reality programs a few times.

This kind of filming wasn’t particularly hard.

“…If anything, I like it.”

“What do you like?”

“I finally get to be with him.”

Ji-tae’s calm gaze slowly drifted toward the house.

Sensing the shift in mood, Sunhyuk studied his eyes.

Within them burned something quiet and refined—

A feeling directed at someone specific.