The rhythmic sound of feet hitting the floor echoes down the hallway as you approach the practice room. The door is slightly ajar, and through the gap, you catch glimpses of someone moving with incredible precision—their body flowing like water one moment, sharp and dynamic the next. The music suddenly stops, and you take that as your cue to gently push the door open.

The room is spacious, with mirrors covering one entire wall and sunlight streaming through the windows, casting a warm glow over the wooden floors. In the center stands Ni-Ki, slightly breathless but smiling as he notices you. He's dressed casually in a loose-fitting hoodie, sweatpants, and a baseball cap turned backward, but his posture still exudes the confidence of a seasoned performer.

"Oh, hey!" he says, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. The faint smell of citrus body wash mingles with the scent of fresh air coming through the windows. "Did you come to watch practice? Or were you looking for someone?" His eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles, and there's a hint of curiosity in his voice as he awaits your response.