"Huh?! Hyung! It's a squirrel!"
"Taeoh-ssi, that's a Siberian chipmunk."
"A Siberian chipmunk? Isn't that the bad guy that eats squirrels? For it to look that cute… That's cheating."
As Taeoh hesitated, about to throw a branch at the chipmunk, Minhyuk stopped his hand.
"Siberian chipmunks are bigger than squirrels and have grayish-brown fur. Since they live in trees, they can pick and eat fruit and nuts themselves. So… the thing about chipmunks eating squirrels is just a rumor."
"Wow… They get dragged by rumors too."
"Not that different from our lives."
"I see… Sorry, chipmunk."
Taeoh set the branch down and apologized to the chipmunk, which stared back at him with clear, innocent eyes.
Maybe its mood was already ruined—the chipmunk shrieked and bared its teeth, and both Taeoh and Minhyuk jumped and backed away as they ran. Trailing behind them, Jisu swept his sweat-soaked hair back irritably.
"Ha… fuck. Chipmunk or squirrel, should I just shove them all off a cliff?"
Even after that, Jisu kept getting a headache watching Taeoh—like a newborn kid—run around the trail asking, "An acorn! A pinecone! Is this wild ginseng?" while Minhyuk, like someone who'd lived on the mountain his whole life, calmly explained, "Taeoh-ssi, don't eat that. That's a weed."
If he could, he wanted to dump both of them somewhere along the trail and leave.
Of all things, their route was the gentlest one—and because of that, the hike felt even longer as they looped around toward the summit.
"Oh! A voting slip!"
Taeoh, who'd been tearing around the trail, found a voting slip. His voice—so excited it was like he'd found real treasure—echoed through the mountain path.
"Yeomin's already out, and you're still searching that hard. Looks like you've got someone else you want to send home?"
Jisu asked as he watched.
When Yeomin went out with three votes, Jisu already knew Dansol's vote had gone to Taeoh.
They were in the same agency and often got paired up in the same productions, but Jisu didn't like Yeomin either—someone who buttered up seniors while treating juniors like his own servants.
If Taeoh hadn't eliminated him, Jisu had planned to pull him aside for how he'd treated Dansol. As he thought that maybe he should thank Taeoh for saving him the trouble, Taeoh spoke up, looking shy.
"It's not that… I've got a debt I need to pay back."
"A debt?"
Taeoh brushed pine needles off the slip and held it out to Minhyuk.
"Um… Minhyuk-hyung. This voting slip is yours."
"If you found it, why are you giving it to me?"
"I actually… swiped it from your pocket. I really felt like I was going to punch Senior Yoon… I couldn't see anything in that moment. I'm sorry!"
Taeoh bowed ninety degrees and apologized. But Minhyuk didn't take the slip.
"That's the one I lost. I told everyone not to worry about means or methods, so you have nothing to apologize for. I'll count it as received. That voting slip… pay it back to Dansol-ssi."
"Sunbaenim…!"
Leaving behind Taeoh with eyes glittering, Minhyuk slung his guitar on and strode ahead, his bangs fluttering.
Seeing how dramatic he looked, Jisu let out a hollow laugh. Everyone else's bags were stuffed with sleeping bags and food and supplies for staying on the mountain—yet Minhyuk had only his guitar.
Watching him, Jisu pressed his throbbing temple hard.
"They're really screwing around. Are we filming a drama right now? Move your asses!"
"Sunbaenim! There's a voting slip here!"
Dansol spotted a piece of paper caught at the tip of a tree branch. Someone had hung it at a height that was almost—but not quite—within reach if Dansol stretched his arm out.
He was about to wait for Daesu to come closer, but the moment he reached just a little farther—
"Aagh!"
Dansol fell, like someone had yanked his ankle. It wasn't like before, when he'd stepped wrong on a mossy rock, and it wasn't that he'd slipped in the dirt.
Even through the severe pain, fear hit him.
More frightening than getting hurt was being branded as a "nuisance character" on the show.
In his previous life, Dansol had been cursed out for similar reasons. He didn't want to be in pain just to be in pain. Yet he was in a situation where he had to worry about other people's eyes before his own body.
"You okay?"
Daesu ran over and pulled Dansol's hiking boot off. When he carefully peeled the sock away, his swollen ankle was revealed. Even at a glance, it didn't look like a mild sprain.
"Ah… I'm sorry."
Dansol's eyes went to the voting slip hanging at the tip of the tree.
"Fuck—what bastard put it up there…"
Daesu cursed through clenched teeth, snatched the slip like he was going to crumple it, and thrust it at Dansol.
"Take it. We're going down."
"Huh? But…"
The summit was only thirty minutes away. They'd climbed for two hours. Going back down now—and also making Daesu carry him for the last thirty minutes—both felt too unfair and too sorry to Dansol.
"I'll carry you. We're going down."
"No, that's not—"
More than anything, he was worried the broadcast would get thrown off because of him.
Before his regression, Yiyeon had carried him down mid-mountain, and by the time they arrived, it was already after sunset. The staff at the summit, who'd been waiting only for Dansol and Yiyeon, were furious.
Even the staff waiting at the base looked at Dansol like he was an eyesore. Because of that, he'd been so intimidated he couldn't say a single line properly, and he ended up caught in a "bad attitude" controversy.
For them, it had been a romantic moment. But when Dansol watched the edited episode, even he looked like the worst nuisance character in the show's history.
Iyeon kept telling him it was okay, but once Dansol's shoulders had shrunk, they wouldn't straighten easily.
What had the others said back then? Did they blame him for dragging out the shoot? After that day, he couldn't remember anything—like waking up from a nightmare.
A headache surged up.
These faces, so gentle now… felt like different people.
"You okay? Why are you sweating so much?"
Daesu snapped Dansol out of the past. At some point, Dansol was drenched in sweat, his lips pale blue. His ankle hurt, yet Dansol kept getting worse. Seeing that, Daesu didn't hesitate—he turned and offered his back.
"Get on. We're going down."
"N-no… I can't. The broadcast… we can't be late."
"The broadcast is the problem right now? You're hurt…!"
Daesu finally snapped, raising his voice at Dansol, who was pushing his back away with a white, deathly face. But when Daesu met Dansol's tearful eyes, he apologized.
"Sorry. I'm not mad at you… If we're going down, we have to go now."
The sun set fast in the mountains. Even if they went down now, Daesu wasn't sure they'd reach the trailhead before dark. But he was more worried about Dansol's injured ankle.
"…I want to go up."
"Stop being stubborn. Can't you see how swollen your ankle is?"
"If we go up, there's a medic up there. If I just get first aid…"
The medical staff PD Choi had called in for safety. Even so, they'd probably only have medicine for bruises and muscle pain—yet Dansol kept insisting.
"What if you hurt a bone?"
"Then what am I supposed to do? If I just stay put, I'll get… cursed out."
Daesu raked a hand through his hair, frustrated. For someone like him—already established as an actor—this show was just a detour, and everything that happened here was a mere happening. Once the show ended, he could go back and film movies.
But Dansol was different. A small agency, weak album results, and from what he'd heard, a lot of members—and it seemed like Dansol was the only one with any name recognition. Daesu couldn't even imagine the weight on those small shoulders.
He stood in front of the public too, but people always treated him with deference. Even that critic bastard who tore into every film he did became absurdly polite the moment he met Daesu at a film festival.
But Dansol…
Daesu remembered Yeomin calling Dansol a "flop idol" to his face.
He was starting to understand why Dansol was so fixated on a show this small.
Daesu sat down again with his back to Dansol. Even when Dansol tried to push him away, Daesu didn't budge.
"We're not going down. We're going up."
"Huh?"
"I… I can walk. If you can just find me a stick… And also the slope here is too steep."
This section was nothing like the one where Yiyeon had carried him. The incline was brutal; even climbing with a healthy body would leave you breathless.
"Should I carry you in my arms? Or are you getting on my back?"
Daesu asked, his face fierce, when Dansol still hesitated. Even knowing he wasn't a gangster or a yakuza's son, Dansol's neck still shrank.
When Dansol carefully wrapped his arms around Daesu's neck, Daesu—like he still didn't like it—pulled Dansol's arms tighter around his shoulders and stood up in one lift.
"Is there anything you absolutely need from your bag?"
"Ah… no."
Unable to ask Daesu to carry his bag too, Dansol unintentionally let out a soft sigh against the back of Daesu's neck.
"Hoo… I'll come back down and get that later."
At that breath, Daesu's jaw clenched hard.
The soft body was lighter than he'd thought, and Dansol's breath at his ear was stimulating.
He could feel blood rushing downward.
It was a relief that Dansol couldn't see his face right now.
Thinking like that with someone who was injured—Daesu hated himself for it. Like he was making a touchdown, he sprinted up the steep mountain path. It was faster than when Dansol walked on his own.
Clinging to Daesu's back, Dansol felt like he might tumble backward from the unexpected speed. Startled, he grabbed Daesu's neck tight and squeezed his eyes shut.
The slope below was more dizzying than riding a roller coaster.
In the process, Dansol's soft cheek pressed against the back of Daesu's neck.
'Ah, this is really dangerous.'
Both of them had the exact same thought.
"Mmph…!"
When Daesu faltered for a moment, Dansol's ankle jolted, and a moan slipped out of him without him realizing.
Immediately, Daesu roared, "Aaaah!!" and ran even faster up the mountain path.
Siberian chipmunk: I'm gonna spill the tea about seeing Jeong Daesu running with his ×× up.
Continue reading up to chapter 40+ at Novelshub.org