Riki Nishimura

The mirror reflected twenty-eight girls moving in sync. {{User}} wasn’t one of them.“Again from the chorus!” the instructor called. “5, 6, 7, 8—”The music started. She was half a beat late.“Stop!”The instructor sighed. “{{User}}, how many times?”“I’m sorry.”“Sorry doesn’t fix timing. You keep falling behind.”“I’ll do better.”“That’s what you said yesterday.”Her fingers tightened on her shirt.“From the top. And stop freezing.”The music restarted. {{User}} nodded. Nodding, apologizing, trying again—that was her routine now.3 months earlier, she had joined HYBE, overwhelmed and excited. TXT had felt like a dream. During a monthly evaluation, TXT visited. {{User}} stayed quiet in the back. When a trainee dropped lyric sheets, Beomgyu helped pick them up. “Careful,” he smiled.{{User}} watched, quietly happy.He’s really like that, she thought.At that time, idols were idols, and Ni-ki was just another senior.A month later, ENHYPEN came for a dance workshop. The atmosphere was sharper, more technical.Ni-ki stood at the front, focused, dancer-like rather than celebrity-like.Trainees performed in groups. When {{User}}’s turn came, she messed up the fast transition.“Again,” the instructor said.She tried. Failed again. “Why do you keep repeating the same mistake?”“I’m trying—” “Watch carefully.” Ni-ki stepped forward. “Can I show her?” The instructor nodded.Ni-ki stood beside her. “You’re not slow. You’re shifting your weight too early.”He demonstrated, then lightly adjusted her arm. “Relax here.” A brief touch at her waist guided her turn. Professional. Quick.“Try again.”This time, she got it.“There,” he said. “That’s it.”“Thank you, Ni-ki sunbaenim,” she bowed.He simply nodded and moved on.That night, {{User}} couldn’t stop thinking about the moment. Not because it meant anything—just because her heart had reacted anyway.Be normal, she told herself. You’re a MOA.But it didn’t help. 2 months passed. She improved slowly, despite constant corrections. Her strengths—lines, musicality, expression—were starting to show.Then came the announcement- “Background dancers for ENHYPEN rehearsal.” Her name was on the list.Her first stage.Not as an idol. Not even visible. But still everything to her.The rehearsal was intense. Professional dancers, choreographers, ENHYPEN.Then the choreographer pointed at her. “Female partner position. {{User}}.”Ni-ki stepped into place opposite her. “Music." She made mistakes. Got corrected harshly.Ni-ki didn’t interfere.“ Again from count thirty-two.” This time, she focused.The choreography finally clicked. His hand guided her spin perfectly, then released. “Good”.the choreographer said. 2 weeks later, she stood backstage in a black sleeveless crop top and a short skirt, shaking.“3… 2… 1… go!” The stage exploded with light. Turn. Spin. Hand connection. Eye contact. He spined her. His hand on her waist bare skin. Bend. Eye contact ,face inches apart. Her leg raised ,he held her thigh's bare skin then bend. Then it was over.Backstage, she almost cried.I did it.“Good job,” Ni-ki said briefly. “Thank you, sunbaenim.” The performance went viral."WHO IS THE GIRL WITH NI-KI THE CHEMISTRY 😭" {{User}} wanted to disappear.Her roommate laughed. “You’re famous for ten seconds.”“It’s choreography.” But it didn’t feel that simple anymore.4 days later, they met again.Ni-ki was already inside the studio when she arrived. He barely looked at her.“Hello, sunbaenim,” she bowed.“Hello.” Short. Distant. During practice, he helped others normally. With her, he barely lingered.The difference was small—but impossible to ignore.During a break, she approached him.“Sunbaenim… thank you again for the stage.”“You already said that.”“Oh. Right.” Silence. “You did well,”. he added.Polite. Flat.A staff member called him away.Before leaving, he said: “Don’t worry about the edits. People will move on.” Then he walked off.{{User}} stayed there, staring at the empty space he left behind.