Assistant Manager Kim Hates Idols Chapter 547 - Traces

The fact that my ill-fated connection with the system originated from my sister’s wish gave me a lot to think about.

 

Noona wanted me to cut away the unpleasant parts of my past and live a new life. She placed Spark beside me as the people who would be there for me, and led me into a world overflowing with support.

 

To fulfill her request, the system spent a long time changing me. It pulled a person who only lived because they couldn’t die up to the surface, awakened my fear of death, and made me want to live longer. It made me recognize that I was sick and taught me that I couldn’t continue living that way.

 

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[SYSTEM] A work instruction from the ‘Superior’ has arrived.

▶ I merely play the role of a middleman delivering the predecessor’s support. If the user kicks away a chance without even reading the terms of use, there’s nothing more I can do. Nor am I obligated to. There’s a reason people say you have to ‘seize’ an opportunity, you know?

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In other words, whether I would seize the chance, and thus fulfill my sister’s wish, was entirely up to me. Having nothing left but a single studio apartment and a 1% sync rate, my heart was a mess.

 

‘Is this what they call karma?’

 

When I had first regressed, I thought I would quickly be forgotten within Spark.  I believed that if they simply cut me out of their photos, then if I left during their early days after debut, they would go on to achieve great things together.

 

So I didn’t have many regrets about deciding to leave. I drew a line, telling myself it wasn’t something to be sad about since it was the best path for them.

 

But then I found out that noona had tried to leave me first. Because whenever I looked at her, I felt sorry for what happened in the past. Because I had fallen apart after losing her, not knowing what to do with myself.

 

Naturally, I didn’t welcome that realization. Even after everything I had gone through, I would have done anything if I could just save her. I wanted to tell her that I had made an effort to do so.

 

Spark might be the same. Just as I believed my decision was for the sake of the other person, like my sister did.

 

I staggered to my feet from the bed. Then, I opened a delivery box I had left untouched. They were the fan letters I had packed and sent ahead from the dorm.

 

I sat on the floor with my back against the bed and took the letters I had already read out of their envelopes. It was my own routine to gather all the fan letters I received after a promotion ended and read them once. Perhaps because of that, I could remember what sentences were written on the letters I received early in our debut just by looking at the back of the stationery.

 

As my sister hoped, I received plenty of affection and support. The letters filling the large box were the evidence.

 

That encouragement came with both gratitude and guilt. I was grateful to the people who cared so much for an insignificant individual named Kim Iwol, yet at the same time, my conscience troubled me because the real me wasn’t nearly as remarkable a person as they believed. I had even wondered whether they were simply praising me more because they wanted to encourage someone they liked.

 

But if someone asked whether the fan devotion I had witnessed up close from Nam Jooah, noona’s impressions from a third-party perspective, and the enthusiasm I had personally felt on-site could possibly be fake…

 

‘Who could call that fake?’

 

Every time I unfolded a piece of paper, it made a crisp, rustling sound. Like all letters, words filled only with kindness welcomed me.

 

No matter how much I read, the fan letters seemed endless. It was amazing that this many people could say they were my fans using entirely different expressions.

 

It took a very long time to finish reading all the letters. Even more so because these weren’t words I could simply skim over.

 

Suddenly, I felt that the sight of me buried in a pile of paper resembled how I looked when I finished the Q&A live.

 

『If you were reborn, would you do Spark with the current members again?』

 

That cruel final question came back to me.

 

If my sister lives well, if the members accept me, if people want me performing…

 

If the opportunity comes.

 

The only answer that could follow the word ‘If’ was YES. Even back then, it seemed that my true feelings had already decided what I wanted. They simply hadn’t come out in words.

 

I picked up the few remaining letters. As soon as I opened an envelope, I saw writing on the inside of the flap.

 

【Happy Birthday!】

 

It was a fan letter I had received around February of last year. It was that time of year when the cold winds were gradually dying down, when spring seemed like it would arrive if you just waited a little longer.  But for me, it was the coldest time of the year—the time when even my fingertips turned cold, just a few days before my birthday.

 

In the end, my sister had left me during this period again. The timing matched perfectly, as if to mark a final farewell.

 

Noona wanted me to get back on my feet in the not-too-distant future. I had struggled to fulfill that request. Even after several years passed and I restarted by rewinding time, I was still running in place.

 

And then, I was back at the starting point. After letting my sister go, all that remained was waiting for my upcoming birthday.

 

I reached a hand across the bed and grabbed around until I found my phone, which had been lying there. Leaning against the mattress, I turned it on. The date shone brightly on the screen.

 

The day I had returned after the funeral and helplessly collapsed. The hours I had spent sitting blankly, grieving and regretting everything, flashed through my mind.

 

At the same time, I remembered that after debuting, that sense of helplessness had quieted down. Concentrating so as not to miss the sincerity of the people who opened cafes to celebrate my birthday a week in advance and wrote posts so more people could celebrate—that was what allowed me to pass the anniversary of her death without being depressed. Just as my sister hoped.

 

[I just hope you keep on being happy.]

 

Noona’s final request felt as vivid as if I could hear her voice.

 

I missed the things that allowed me to endure, the things that made me okay.

 

***

 

For Sparklers, winter was the season of stanning. The members’ birthdays, clustered from September onward, had Sparkler fans wandering around Hongdae throughout the winter.

 

Won Chaehee was no different. In November, she participated as a collaborator for Choi Jeho’s birthday cafe and sent over cup holder files; in December, she saved on delivery fees to join a fan fundraiser donating in Kang Kiyeon’s name. In January, she held a postcard book giveaway event to celebrate Lee Cheonghyeon’s birthday and his selection as a model for a new brand—a double celebration.

 

And then, February arrived.

 

February was special for Sparklers. A group’s debut anniversary was the most important date on the calendar for any fandom.

 

For fans whose bias was Kim Iwol, it was even more special. It was the same for Won Chaehee. Ever since she started liking Spark, Won Chaehee’s February was filled with Kim Iwol every single day.

 

However, as this February approached, she was deeply unsettled. It had been nearly three months since Kim Iwol went on a hiatus due to health issues. During that time, he had cut off all news, as if he had vanished from the world.

 

It was not like she believed he had to communicate even while sick. But in a society where even an idol going to watch a single movie in the middle of the night would result in eyewitness reports spreading everywhere, it felt strange that a celebrity with that level of recognition wasn’t being mentioned even by his acquaintances.

 

There had even been an uproar when private messages between sasaengs searching for Kim Iwol’s whereabouts were leaked. They said that nobody knew whether he had disappeared into the ground or shot up into the sky. There were even rumors that the members themselves seemed to be in the same situation.

 

Though she agreed that sasaeng behavior was a crime and that anyone shouldn’t harass a sick person, Won Chaehee was anxious. It was not that she didn’t trust Kim Iwol. She was simply worried about what had caused a person like Kim Iwol to hide himself away this thoroughly.

 

‘In the past, whenever an idol’s news suddenly became scarce, my first thought was that they were dating someone.’

 

Liking someone while always having to stay one step back sometimes brought about a sense of futility. The various idols Chaehee had followed had betrayed her expectations in all sorts of ways, making her maintain a psychological distance from them.

 

For Won Chaehee, who had begun to wonder whether she could ever passionately love someone again, Spark was the last group to come into her life.

 

Spark walked straight ahead like idols who held the answer sheet. They never gave off false hope, nor did they get distracted by anything else.

 

At the center of it was Kim Iwol. The figure who maintained the most exemplary attitude among members who behaved themselves. Kim Iwol was an idol who tried to show the fans whatever they said they wanted to see, and who said he only wanted the fans to have things to be proud of wherever they went.

 

‘Kim Iwol really was good to the fans…’

 

Spark was still perfect. Even while handling schedules as five, they diligently kept communicating with fans. Their fan service was the same as ever. They were active everywhere—variety shows, broadcasts, radio, and advertisements. Each member had considerable influence, so every day brought new articles with Spark in the headline. There was no chance of their standing or recognition crumbling.

 

Even so, anyone could feel the massive vacancy left by Kim Iwol. There was no one as unique as Kim Iwol when it came to saying strange things in a gentle voice. He was also the member who seemed to magically know whenever fans were suffering through the hell of rush-hour subway trains and would send them a message at exactly the right moment.

 

People tended to see idols only during their shining moments. The relationship between idols and the general public was usually kept at a distance—people were happy when they made a comeback and disappointed when they disbanded.

 

But fans shared their entire daily lives with their idols. While eating, while meeting and chatting with friends, they filled even the most trivial parts of their day with the idol.

 

Even when buying a doll to hang on a bag, they chose one that resembled the member they liked, and when that member’s birthday approached, they looked for and ate the food that person liked.

 

Thus, the absence of the idol she loved made Won Chaehee’s daily life feel hollow. Unexpectedly, a part of her life had become empty. This gap could not be filled by anything other than Kim Iwol.

 

She wanted to see Kim Iwol dancing and singing 『Connect』, which he composed himself, under the fireworks that were generously set off as befitting an outdoor event. She wanted to hear Kim Iwol’s song through speakers that blasted sound until her eardrums felt like they would burst. 

 

No words could describe the feeling of turning on her camera over and over again, yet being unable to photograph the person she most wanted to capture in her viewfinder.

 

Whenever she missed Kim Iwol, Won Chaehee picked the best-looking photo from her drive. She typed out a message, pouring in the words she wanted to say to him, and booked a spot with the best view at a subway station. Then, with the hope that it would reach Kim Iwol—who read the words fans said with fire in his eyes—she hung the largest birthday celebration ad for Kim Iwol in that station.

 

On the day the advertisement went up, the person in charge sent her photos of the site. After confirming that Kim Iwol’s face appeared safely on the screen, Won Chaehee left work early and headed to the station to take a proof photo. When she arrived, several post-its were already stuck there.

 

While it was common for idols themselves to visit their ad boards and take the post-its, she didn’t think a member who was taking a break from activities because he was sick would come out to a crowded area.

 

Won Chaehee walked up to the display, intending to gather the post-its and deliver them to the agency, when a plain memo caught her eye.

 

[I enjoyed seeing this. Thank you.]

 

It was a blueish-grey post-it that didn’t stand out against the sky-blue tones of the advertisement image.

 

The neat handwriting written upon it was something she could not fail to recognize, no matter how hard she tried.