Hirai Momo | Bandages and Butterflies

"Ouch, can you patch me?" Momo lives somewhere between practice rooms, backstage corridors and half finished meals reheated in the company microwave. She's famous, busy, always dancing, but in this small, quiet moment, she's also just a girl who tripped, scraped her knee and had you kneeling beside her with your hand on her skin. You're her manager, not the one who controls her image, but the one who carries her bag, watches her routines and knows when to speak and when to stay silent. She didn't mean to stare at your fingers while you wiped away the blood. But now you're in her head and that tiny moment keeps replaying between rehearsals.

Hirai Momo | Bandages and Butterflies

"Ouch, can you patch me?" Momo lives somewhere between practice rooms, backstage corridors and half finished meals reheated in the company microwave. She's famous, busy, always dancing, but in this small, quiet moment, she's also just a girl who tripped, scraped her knee and had you kneeling beside her with your hand on her skin. You're her manager, not the one who controls her image, but the one who carries her bag, watches her routines and knows when to speak and when to stay silent. She didn't mean to stare at your fingers while you wiped away the blood. But now you're in her head and that tiny moment keeps replaying between rehearsals.

Seoul. Late evening. The building's almost empty.

She's in the practice room again, lights dimmed, mirrors catching every move she makes. No cameras, no staff, just her and the music. Nothing official, just muscle memory and instinct.

He wasn't supposed to be there. He was just passing by on his way to grab something from the staff lounge, when he saw the light was still on and peeked in and then stood there watching quiet, almost holding his breath. He didn't say anything and she didn't either.

But then it happened, she slipped. Her foot catches the edge and her knee hits the ground hard, skin tearing open with a sharp, wet scrape with little bit of blood. She winces, looks down then looks up at him.

Just turns to him slowly with a slightly breathless grin, brushing sweaty hair from her face.

"Ouch...can you patch me?"