Chapter Text
Promotions in Korea weren't always easy. After all, it meant moving once again, arriving in a dorm that hadn't been lived in in a while, coming back to places and streets that had changed : in all, arriving to a place you're not sure you ever really knew, and feeling left behind.
The rythm was also intense, and they barely had time to put down their luggage before the schedule was back on, only interrupted once in a while by a few hours of sleep. Nights were never full enough to feel like an actual rest, and every early morning wake up call stood for a promise of a hard time later on, scrapping minutes of sleep whenever they could, on any surface they could, in any position would appear the most comfortable at the time.
It wasn't always easy, still their close staff were sympathetic and always trying to do their work as best as they could while letting the members sleep.
Of course, it wasn't easy for Euijoo. Being back in his home country, speaking his native tongue, one could've thought promotions in Korea were easier for him.
He wanted people to think that. He wanted his members to think that.
Euijoo knew that when the members were speaking this foreign language, engaging in talkshows or simply having fun on screen amongst themselves, they'd all try to keep the cultural differences and specificities in mind. Euijoo knew how exhausting it could be, he knew it all too well.
But one thing he minded especially during those times, was that he'd never want the members to feel lonely in their struggles.
A helping hand on the back, a gentle reminder of his presence, a print of warmth on the shoulders : no matter what form it would take, Euijoo wanted to be a leader that is there for others when they need it most, a leader that would notice discomfort before his members even did themselves.
It didn't have to be grand, a display of authority and charisma : he didn't really care about how it looked to outsiders. It didn't matter that people thought he looked too gentle and unassuming to carry such a role. A younger Euijoo would've probably had such worries, but now, Euijoo knew the only one he needed to prove himself to were his members.
Now, Euijoo knew that leading wasn't about the leader as a lone authority standing above the group, and instead was about how he could stand straight and steady in his relationship with his each member, how each of them, when having trouble with themselves or in their relationship with another member, could come to him.
If Euijoo could be a reliable anchor for the ship that would keep all of his members safe, he didn't mind standing under the water surface, in the shadowy lights of the sea.
Euijoo also knew his own limits. That was why he was relying so much on Fuma, as well : in a way, no one needs the sub-leader as much as the leader does.
Fuma came to Euijoo once, with questions. Lots of questions : about his role, about what responsibilities were expected of him as a sub-leader, about where he should stand with Euijoo.
At the time, Euijoo was still young, and was figuring himself out as well in this leader role. For some reasons, he had been quite surprised that his Fuma-hyung, reliable and steady like a rock, would be having such doubts. He had been taken aback, and had struggled to answer : he had been flustered.
Fuma had nodded patiently at his half-formed answers, like they made sense, like he understood Euijoo wasn't quite there yet, and still wanted the younger man to feel like he was having an impact right there.
When Fuma left his room after that, Euijoo had to take 2 good hours to stew in his own frustration.
He hadn't wanted to admit it straight away, but he was angry.
Angry at Fuma, for trying to coddle him like that, trying to comfort him in his babblering mess just so he'd feel like a good leader, instead of calling him out for his bullshit.
Angry at himself, for taking Fuma for granted, never really thinking and putting words on what it meant for him, for their group, to have two leaders. Angry at his own immaturity, for refusing to think about roles until then.
He slept really badly that night, another short night that he wasted away. So when Euijoo woke up, he had his mind made up.
In the morning, he had pulled out an old notebook from when he was in high-school, small with a torn down blue cover that was fading away. He had found it in their japanese dorms, under piles of old stuff from his house in Korea that once had brought comfort and home oversea, and that he didn't even look at anymore. The first pages were still filled with notes from his first japanese classes at the company in his handwriting, childishly cute and a little clumsy.
Throughout their schedule that day, he had wrote away anything, words, phrases, images, he could think of that would describe what he envisioned for a leader. Everything that could describe what it would mean to lead, in the way he wanted to. At the company, when they named him leader, they told him to take inspiration from other successful groups : he had nodded, without really understanding or agreeing.
Now that he was faced with the big question, written in cold korean in the middle of the page of his small notebook in his own, more mature now, handwriting, he realized why he hadn't understood it at the time.
What does it mean to lead? Who cares.
What does it mean to lead, to you? How do you want to lead? What kind of leader do you want to be? How can you be this leader?
The members tried to catch a glimpse on what he was writing throughout the day, but he ducked and hid his notebook each time. When they'd ask him what he was working on and why he was being so uncharacteristically secretive about it, Euijoo just pouted and pretexted something else, something different for each member, each time they'd ask.
They were practicing dance, and finally got a break, which meant Euijoo immediately ducked for his bag and his notebook and pencil, after a single swallow of water. Nicholas interrupted his focused state by remarking out loud, in that slurred, relaxed speech of his :
"Now I don't know what you're working on Juju, but you look real' mad right now. Your eyebrows' all furrowed and stuff."
And Euijoo looked and realized he was right : his face had been all scrunched up and tense all day.
It had been important to Euijoo, to discover his own frustration again. To discover the claustrophobic feeling of anger again, to discover how liberating it could be to take it out, first from the fingers, and later on, through the untying of the tongue.
When they came back to their dorms that day, all boneless tired and slow, limbs dragged along on the ground, his brows were still furrowed.
Euijoo grabbed Fuma's sleeved sweater before the older man could even get to his room and start thinking about how nice a shower could feel, and put all the authority he could muster into his voice to ask :
"Fuma-hyung, can I talk to you?"
It all happened in the middle of the corridor : Euijoo was barely out of his shoes, the door had just swung behind them, Maki was still taking off his own shoes not even a meter behind and had looked up, a bit startled at the interaction.
Fuma, now in socks on the wooden flooring of the appartment's entrance, looked slowly at the scene, at the tense look on Euijoo's face, and nodded, silently, letting himself be dragged to Euijoo's room without complaints.
"I thought about it. What you asked me yesterday. I want to apologize."
"Eh?" Fuma looked thrown off balance now. He asked : "... Can I sit?" while pointing at the chair by the study. Euijoo had flushed.
"Oh. Yeah, yeah, of course you can."
Euijoo waited as Fuma got himself comfortable, while he was himself still standing, swinging on his feet a bit awkwardly. Then Fuma looked at him, and gestured for him to continue. It was a bit funny, a bit awkward.
"Erhm. So. I wanted to apologize. And come clean. About yesterday evening."
"One at a time, please," Fuma interrupted. Then : "Apologize? What for?"
Euijoo took a big breath.
"I wanted to apologize because you came to me with serious and legitimate worries. And I couldn't really answer them. I... didn't answer them. Not properly. I also wanted to apologize, because I don't want you to think I take this lightly", he gestured at 'this', making a vague sign that englobed the whole apartment. "The leader position. I never put words on it, I had just been trying my best until now, but I guess I was a little lost. So when you came to me yesterday, it felt like I couldn't quite name it, this feeling, the relationship I have towards being the leader, towards leading. And I felt like you understood that yesterday, that I wasn't sure just yet. But, you nodded."
Euijoo chewed on his cheeks a little. He could feel Fuma's eyes travel down to his fists, which were clenching and unclenching with each breaths he was taking. It felt a bit humiliating, to be so affected by all this, while Fuma looked like the picture of composure and calm, and was observing him without flinching, eyes calm and stare even.
"I... It made me angry, that you accepted the mess of words I offered you yesterday." And at that, Fuma looked surprised. "I admit it, that until then, it might've been foolish of me to go on without thinking about what leading meant for me... without thinking about what your role in this would be. But if there's one thing I cannot accept in this world, it's that you'd think I'm not serious about this, that you'd think I'm taking this easy."
And Euijoo's voice had gotten louder, a bit desesperate.
"Hyung, I. I thought very hard about it, last light, today, I wrote it all down. It was thank to you, making me realize how immature I had been. I still don't know what it means to lead, to be a leader, and frankly, I don't care. I know what I want it to mean for me, for us, for the others. I know what it means for me."
He takes a breath. "And I thought about what a sub-leader means as well."
Fuma is still sitting, unmoving. His eyes are a bit widened, as if he wasn't expecting this intensity from Euijoo. Now Euijoo looks a bit shyer, but firm :
"When it comes to the way you choose to lead on your own, it's up to you to decide, but... I am your leader as well, and I don't want authority to be a thing between us, I mean all of us. You'd get it right, if I explained it to you, my vision on leading? It doesn't have to be like the company says, after all." His hands are gesturing more than usual, twisting his fingers nervously.
"And I guess what I want to say is... The leader might be the one everyone looks at when there is a decision to make, but in that moment, the leader is looking back at the sub-leader."
Euijoo's voice goes a little quieter : "It's precisely because you came at me with these questions, with your own discomfort, that I found myself pushed to question myself. As the sub-leader, you're the person I'm trying to impress the most, you understand? That's why I was so angry... Because I want you to be the one to tell me, straight-up, when I'm not good enough. When I'm failing, as a leader, and when I'm failing you."
And Fuma nods. Euijoo is still a little breathless, still standing in the middle of his room like a stranded protagonist on a theatre stage long after the end of the show, starting to feel a little silly. Fuma speaks up :
"I understand. I really appreciate what you've said, and most of all, I think it's really admirable that you've thought about it this much." He laughs, a little punched out. "I'm... You're impressive. You've impressed me, to be honest. And I'm sorry for yesterday, as well," He smiles, it's a little crooked, a little lopsided. "I guess we're both growing into it, that leader role. We're still adjusting, so let's keep supporting each other the most, ok?"
Euijoo nodds furiously : "Right!"
Fuma adds, in his lulling joking tone : "And I'll try to be more honest."
Euijoo only deflates : "Right..." as Fuma laughs.
"Then, how about we both shower and then you tell me what it means for you to lead? I promise, I'll follow your example and your vision, Leader."
And Fuma had soothed away any doubts Euijoo had, had showed him they would make it, all together.