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Cortis x illit

The Strawberry Milk Protocol

The first official day of rehearsals for the "Eclipse Project" debut felt less like a professional K-pop training session and more like a high-stakes security detail for a royal dignitary. The HYBE practice room was cold, the air conditioning humming with clinical efficiency, but the atmosphere inside was anything but cold.

James was the first one in the room, his long limbs moving with a restless energy as he marked out positions on the floor with neon tape. He had spent the previous night obsessively reviewing the formations. As the main choreographer for the male side of the unit, he had a vision of power and synchronization, but as Iroha’s self-appointed "Stage Father," he had a different priority: safety.

"The transition from the V-formation to the circle is too tight," James muttered to himself, squinting at the mirror. "If Martin takes too long a stride, he might clip Iroha’s shoulder. I need to move her two inches to the left."

"You’ve been staring at that spot for twenty minutes, Hyung," Keonho said, strolling in with a mischievous grin and a bag of convenience store snacks. "If you move her any further left, she’ll be dancing in the hallway."

"It’s about the radius, Keonho!" James snapped, though there was no real heat in it. "She’s tiny. If one of you giants loses your balance, she’s the one who gets squished. I won’t have it."

The door pushed open again, and the rest of the group filtered in. Martin was leading the way, looking every bit the 6’3” powerhouse leader in a black sleeveless hoodie, but his hands were occupied with a small, pink thermal bag.

"Where is she?" Martin asked, his eyes immediately scanning the room.

"She’s with the girls, Martin-oppa," Wonhee said, trailing behind him with a laugh. "They went to the dressing room to fix her pigtails. Apparently, one was slightly higher than the other, and Moka-unnie couldn't live with the injustice."

Juhoon followed silently, slinging his bag into a corner. He didn't say a word, but he walked over to the thermostat on the wall and frowned. He clicked the temperature up two degrees.

"It’s too cold in here," Juhoon noted, his voice low. "She’ll get stiff muscles."

"See?" James pointed at Juhoon. "At least someone here is thinking logically."

A moment later, the "treasure" arrived. Iroha walked in, flanked by Yunah and Minju. She was wearing a pair of oversized white cargo pants and a tiny, fitted baby-blue crop top that made her look even smaller than usual. Her hair was tied into two perfect, bouncy pigtails, and she was clutching a plush bunny that Seonghyeon had apparently bought for her at the gas station that morning.

"I’m here!" Iroha announced, her voice bright and melodic.

The reaction from the Cortis boys was instantaneous. Martin dropped the thermal bag on a chair and walked over, crouching down to her level.

"Did you sleep well? Did the humidifier work? Is your throat okay?" Martin peppered her with questions, his large hands hovering near her shoulders as if he wanted to wrap her in bubble wrap right then and there.

"I’m fine, Oppa," Iroha giggled, reaching out to pat Martin’s cheek. "I slept like a rock. The blanket was very warm."

"Good. I put your strawberry milk in the thermal bag," Martin said, gesturing to the chair. "It’s at the perfect temperature. Don't let Keonho touch it."

"Hey! I have my own snacks!" Keonho protested, though he was already moving toward Iroha to ruffle her hair. "Ready for the Three Musketeers to dominate the center stage today, Roha-chan?"

Seonghyeon joined them, looping his arm around Keonho’s neck. "We practiced the bridge part in the hallway, Iroha. If you jump during the 'Eclipse' beat, we’ll catch you. We’ve been working on our arm strength."

"Wait, jump?" James’s head snapped toward them. "There is no jumping in the bridge. That wasn't in the notes."

"We added it for flair!" Seonghyeon grinned. "Imagine it, Hyung. The two of us lift her up, and she looks like she’s flying."

James looked like he was having a minor heart palpitations. "You will not be 'launching' the maknae. Gravity is not a toy, Seonghyeon."

"Relax, James-ah," Yunah said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "They’re just excited. Let’s start the warm-up before these boys vibrate out of their skins."

The practice began, and the shift in energy was palpable. When the music started—a heavy, rhythmic track with a soaring synth melody—the eleven idols transformed. The girls brought a sharp, elegant precision, while the boys brought a raw, grounded power.

But the most fascinating thing to watch was the way the boys reacted to Iroha during the dance.

Whenever Iroha moved to the front, Martin and Juhoon, who were usually the focal points of Cortis’s choreography, stepped back with a deliberate grace, their eyes never leaving her. It wasn't just professional monitoring; it was a deep, instinctual watchfulness.

During a particularly fast sequence where Iroha had to spin between James and Keonho, James’s hand instinctively reached out to steady her waist for a fraction of a second after the turn, making sure she had her footing before he transitioned into his next move. It was seamless, almost invisible to an untrained eye, but to the girls watching from the sidelines, it was clear as day.

"They’re literally guarding her while they dance," Moka whispered to Minju.

"It’s like she’s the Queen bee and they’re the royal guard," Minju agreed, smiling.

About two hours into the session, the performance director called for a break. Iroha, who had been giving 110% to every move, immediately slumped toward the floor, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

Before her knees could even touch the wood, three different boys were moving.

Juhoon was the fastest. He slid across the floor, catching her by the arm and guiding her to a seated position against the wall mirror.

"Slow breaths," Juhoon instructed, his voice unusually gentle. He reached for his own towel and began to lightly dab the sweat from her forehead.

"Water! Who has the water?" Martin shouted, sounding like a man whose house was on fire.

James appeared a second later with a bottle, already unscrewed. "Here. Sip it, don't chug. You’ll get a cramp."

Keonho and Seonghyeon were hovering nearby, fanning her with their hands like two frantic human windmills.

"Is she okay? Is she too hot?" Keonho asked, looking genuinely distressed. "Maybe we should turn the AC back down."

"I’m okay, really!" Iroha panted, looking up at the circle of worried faces. She took a sip of water and gave them a weak thumbs-up. "I just got a little dizzy because the turn was so fast."

The word "dizzy" acted like a trigger for the boys.

"Dizzy?" James repeated, his eyes widening. "That’s it. We’re cutting the triple spin. It’s too much. We’ll make it a double."

"No, Oppa! I can do it!" Iroha protested, reaching out to grab James’s hand. "I just need to practice it more. Please don't change it because of me."

James looked torn. He hated seeing her struggle, but he also knew how much Iroha valued her skills as a dancer. She was the youngest, but she was also one of the best.

"We’ll keep it," Martin decided, though he sat down on the floor right next to her, his massive frame effectively blocking her from the rest of the room. "But only if you take a fifteen-minute break right now. And you eat the protein bar James put in your bag."

"And you have to let me carry you to the lounge for lunch," Keonho added, sensing an opportunity.

"I can walk to lunch, Keonho-oppa!"

"Not according to the Maknae Safety Act of 2024, which I just passed in my head," Keonho teased, poking her nose.

The rest of the afternoon was a tug-of-war between Iroha’s professional ambition and the boys' overwhelming need to coddle her. During the vocal run-through, when Iroha hit a particularly high, stable note, Seonghyeon literally stopped singing his own part to point at her and mouth "That’s our baby!" to the vocal coach.

The coach, a stern woman who had worked with some of the biggest names in the industry, actually cracked a smile. "She is very talented, Seonghyeon. Maybe if you focused as much on your own pitch as you do on hers, we’d be done by now."

"I’m just the hype man," Seonghyeon defended himself, leaning his head on Iroha’s shoulder. "Iroha is the star. I’m just the background noise."

"You’re not noise, Oppa," Iroha said, patting his hair. "You have a very cool voice."

Seonghyeon looked like he had just won a Grammy. He turned to the other boys with a smug expression. "Did you hear that? She thinks I’m cool. The rest of you can go home now."

"In your dreams," Juhoon muttered, though he was hiding a small smile behind his water bottle.

As the sun began to set, casting long, orange shadows through the high windows of the HYBE building, the group finally wrapped up. They were exhausted, their clothes damp with sweat, but there was a sense of accomplishment in the air. The "Eclipse Project" wasn't just a corporate experiment anymore; it was a living, breathing entity.

"Okay, everyone," Yunah called out, gathering them in a circle. "Great job today. The managers said we can have a cheat meal tonight since we worked so hard. What are we thinking?"

"Korean BBQ!" Keonho and Seonghyeon shouted simultaneously.

"Actually," James said, looking at Iroha, who was currently leaning against Martin’s side, looking like she was about to fall asleep standing up. "I think we should just order in. Iroha’s exhausted, and if we go out, she’ll have to deal with fans and cameras. Let’s just go home, put on our pajamas, and eat in the living room."

Martin nodded in agreement. "I second that. I’ll order the premium beef. And Iroha, you can pick the movie tonight. Even if it’s the panda one again."

Iroha’s eyes brightened. "Really? The pandas?"

"Whatever you want, kiddo," Martin said, reaching down to pick her up.

This time, she didn't even protest. She wrapped her arms around his neck and tucked her face into the crook of his shoulder. The height difference was so extreme that she looked like a small child being carried by her father, but the comfort between them was undeniable.

As they walked toward the elevators, the Five Musketeers of Cortis formed a loose perimeter around them. James was checking his phone for the best delivery options, Juhoon was carrying Iroha’s bag, and Keonho and Seonghyeon were trying to see who could make the best panda impressions to make her laugh.

In the elevator, the reflection in the mirrored walls showed a group that looked nothing like two separate entities. They were a jumble of limbs, laughter, and protective glances.

"You know," Iroha whispered into Martin’s ear as the elevator descended. "I was really scared when they said we were becoming one group. I thought you guys would be mean because we’re so much younger."

Martin tightened his grip on her slightly, his heart aching at the thought. "Mean? Iroha-ya, the moment we saw you at that collab stage, we knew we were in trouble. You’re not just a group mate. You’re our little sister. And nobody—not the fans, not the managers, and definitely not us—is ever going to be mean to you."

"We’d have to fight James first," Keonho chimed in, overhearing them. "And have you seen him when he’s angry? He’s like a territorial swan. It’s terrifying."

"A swan?" James turned around, offended. "I was thinking more like a lion, but okay."

"Swans are meaner," Juhoon noted helpfully.

Iroha’s soft giggling filled the small space of the elevator, a sound that acted like a balm to the boys' tired souls.

When they got back to the dorm complex, the "Strawberry Milk Protocol" was in full effect. While the girls took turns in the showers, the boys transformed the living room into a fortress of comfort. They moved the coffee table to make room for a giant floor bed made of duvets and pillows.

By the time the food arrived—mountains of grilled meat, steaming bowls of stew, and every side dish imaginable—Iroha was dressed in her favorite oversized yellow pajamas with little chicks on them.

"Sit here," James said, patting the spot in the very center of the floor bed.

He had set up a small tray just for her, so she wouldn't have to reach over anyone for food. He had even cut the meat into bite-sized pieces.

"Oppa, I’m fourteen, not four," Iroha said, though she was smiling as she took a piece of beef from the tray.

"In this house, you’re four until you’re at least thirty," Seonghyeon declared, popping a cherry tomato into his mouth. "It’s the law. I don't make the rules, I just enforce them with my overwhelming charisma."

The night passed in a blur of delicious food and easy companionship. They watched the panda movie, and even though the boys had seen it the night before, they cheered at all the right parts just to see Iroha’s face light up.

As the movie reached its climax, Iroha’s head once again found its way to a shoulder—this time, it was James’s. He froze for a second, a look of pure, unadulterated pride crossing his face as he looked at the other boys. He mouthed the words, *She chose me,* which earned him a middle-finger gesture from Keonho and a silent eye-roll from Martin.

But as the room grew quiet and the only sound was the crackle of the movie and the soft breathing of eleven tired idols, James looked down at the girl sleeping against him. He felt a profound sense of responsibility, one that went beyond hit songs and dance routines.

He looked at Martin, who was watching them from across the pile of pillows. Martin gave a small, solemn nod. They didn't need words to communicate the pact they had made.

Iroha was the heart of the Eclipse Project. She was the light that turned their competitive industry into a home. And as long as they were standing, they would make sure that light never dimmed.

"Sleep tight, little one," James whispered, leaning his head against hers. "We’ve got you."

Outside, the city of Seoul was a sea of neon lights and bustling crowds, a world away from the quiet sanctuary of the dorm. The fans were already theorizing about the new unit, the critics were sharpening their pens, and the pressure was building. But inside, under a mountain of blankets and surrounded by five brothers who would move mountains for her, Iroha was safe.

And that was the only thing that mattered.