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📁 SYSTEM FILE: NISHIMURA // ID: 020

STATUS: NON-COMPLIANT LOGGED BY: MANAGEMENT (VANDALIZED BY NI-KI)

── SYSTEM ALERT // LEVEL 04 TRACE [████████████████▒▒] 92% NON-COMPOSURE RATE

WARNING: Do not leave unverified gossip within earshot of the subject. REMEDIAL ACTION: In case of sudden silence from the subject, check his room or the dance practice room. Do not engage if he is glaring.

#niki.about

enhypendata

[SANTOS BRAVOS] VELOCIDADE Dance Challenge🔥 w/ NI-KI

#niki.jpg #fuck it up ricardo

tyongmoney

Did you actually stop?

Smoke from the cigarette in between fingers thinning out. Fading. Breaking. Disappearing before it reaches to anywhere useful. Jaw shifting once, subtle enough to be mistaken for the cold chill of the wind. Thumb resting against the bottle cap, nail pressed into its ridged edge. Feeling its grooves as it bites shallow into skin. Gaze still remains on the river, some things easier to say when nobody is directly looking at the wound.

❝ ⸻No. ❞

Plain. Immediate. Unembellished.

❝ Not completely. I didn't stop noticing... that part doesn't really turn off. Just⸻ ❞

Inhaling through the nose, slow, practiced, too practiced maybe. Wind pulls at the loose bleached short strands near the forehead, cold sliding beneath places the fabric failed to protect. Letting it. Deserves it a little, probably. Some small punishment from the weather. Some stupid private accounting only the self would keep. Corners of the lips move, almost humorless.

❝ I learned that not everything I notice needs my hands on it... ❞

Feels closer to the truth. Not stopped. Translated. Tamed, perhaps, on better days. Listening without interrupting, words sitting heavier than the alcohol. Once the title, the position slips, making something in the chest pull tight. Not guilt, exactly. Recognition with sharpened teeth. Now twisting the bottle's cap until it cracks, holding without drinking just yet, condensation cold enough to bite against skin, clean enough to focus on.

Eyes narrowing faintly toward the river, not out of anger but of something older. The title. The box. Professional when convenient. The opposite when inconvenient. That strange, insulting little switch people love pulling that only benefits them until it becomes a disadvantage.

❝ If you perform well, you’re mature. If you understand the work, you’re professional. If you carry pressure without complaining, you’re reliable. But the second you disagree, suddenly you’re young again. Suddenly you don’t understand. Suddenly someone needs to explain the world to you. Convenient, right? ❞

Much like how the rest of the world operates, the industry only making it much sharper. Much brighter. Much easier to make of an excuse under endless exhaustion, fluorescent lights and packed schedules. Finally taking a drink, the familiar burn languidly tracing and settling. Letting it sit as the words and experiences are not wrong.

Because the unfairness is real.

Because sometimes validation has to arrive without a lesson tied around its neck like a leash.

❝ You learned fast. I believe that. Just don't confuse fast with finished. ❞

Hand shifting, pushing the opened bottle a little closer with two fingers before it rests back against the knee.

❝ You can hate the box, ❞ tone dry, corners of the mouth moving barely. ❝ I know I would. Just don't let proving anyone wrong become another one. ❞

nikiminaj7

He listened in silence, the rhythm of Taeyong’s voice cutting through the dull noise of the river with a weight that forced him to actually pay attention. He took another big gulp from the bottle, the cold liquid burning a clean path down his throat before he set it back onto the concrete step with a heavy, hollow click. Hearing it laid out like that, the constant, exhausting vigilance of having to oversee an entire room, made something shift in his chest. He’d always looked at leadership as a barrier, a set of rules used to keep him in check, but hearing Taeyong trace the edges of his own exhaustion made Ni-ki realize just how draining that position actually was. For a split second, his mind drifted back to his own leader, to the quiet, heavy shadow of Jungwon. The friction between them was different, wrapped up in a complicated knot of mockery, unspoken respect, and the thin line between being a friend and being the one who had to enforce the company's rules. It wasn't something he could easily untangle out here in the dark. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice dropping into a rare, quiet admission as he stared down at the concrete. "Sounds like a pain in the ass to handle all of that. I wouldn't want it."

He dug his hand deep into his sweatpants pocket, his fingers searching past the loose fabric until they brushed against the cardboard edge of his cigarette pack. Pulling it out, he tapped a fresh one free, catching it between his lips before retrieving his Chrome Hearts lighter. The heavy silver clicked open with a sharp, metallic snap, the small flame briefly catching the dark, sharp focus in his eyes before he took a deep drag. The tip flared a hot, angry orange, the smoke immediately swirling up into the cold night air. Leaning forward again, he propped his elbows loosely against his knees, letting the cigarette dangle between his fingers as he let the ash build up. He let Taeyong’s last two warnings loop through his head, the bit about convenient labels, and the trap of turning rebellion into another box. A low, dry chuckle scraped out of his throat, entirely devoid of any real humor as he shook his head slightly. "So you're saying I'm doomed either way," he said, cutting a sideways glance through the dark toward the older man, his mouth tilting into a cynical, detached smirk. "Play along and I'm a kid being professional. Fight it, and I'm just a kid throwing a tantrum. Sounds like a rigged game to me."

#niki.taeyong

addictedtohobi

4th Gen Dance Prodigy 🕺 🔥🖤

#niki.jpg

yourmiyeon

The smile that appears on Miyeon's face at the compliment is warm and genuine. There was a difference between compliments given because she was an idol and compliments given simply because someone meant them. Ni-ki had always fallen into the latter category.

Following him inside, she settles comfortably into the booth across from him, taking in the warmth of the restaurant as the chill from outside slowly fades away. Her eyes immediately catch the chopsticks and spoon already waiting for her. "Thank you, dear." The words come naturally. Soft. Familiar. Maybe other people saw the rebellious side of him first, but somehow Miyeon rarely did. Around her, he'd always been surprisingly thoughtful beneath all the confidence and teasing. It was something she'd quietly come to appreciate over time. More than that, she was grateful he felt comfortable enough to show that side of himself around her at all. Opening the menu, her eyes scan over it briefly before settling on a rich tonkotsu ramen. Warm broth, extra chashu, and a side of gyoza sounded exactly right for tonight. "Mm. This one." She taps the picture lightly before setting the menu down. "See? Very easy."

A grin spreads across her face. "Years of professional experience. Managers have been ordering for me since I was basically a child."

A dramatic sigh follows.

"I'm not saying I've forgotten how menus work, but if someone handed me one during a busy schedule, I might genuinely panic."

The laugh that follows is light and effortless, lingering for a moment before her attention settles fully on him.

"So." She rests her chin lightly against her hand. "How are you doing?" The question is simple, but sincere. "What's new with you these days?" Her head tilts slightly. "It feels like forever since Bali." A small smile tugs at her lips. "I swear every time I think I'll see you again soon, another schedule appears out of nowhere." The warmth in her eyes never leaves. "And you've probably grown another five centimeters since then too." She points at him accusingly. "Which is rude, by the way."

A soft laugh escapes her before her expression settles into something gentler again.

"Really, though... I've missed hearing how you're doing."

nikiminaj7

The sudden, natural warmth of her calling him dear made him look down for a split second, a small, involuntary smile tugging at his lips as he leaned back deeper into the booth, one arm stretching lazily along the seat beside him. It was funny how easily she bypassed the rude, unbothered exterior he usually presented to the rest of the world. When she finished picking out her tonkotsu, he caught the eye of the waiter. The shop was clearly run by native Japanese staff, so Ni-ki easily slipped into his first language, his tone shifting into something natural. He ordered her tonkotsu with the extra chashu and gyoza, then added a spicy miso ramen for himself, along with a side of karaage and a plate of takoyaki to share. To finish, he casually tacked on a bottle of chilled sake with two cups, handling the interaction with a detached confidence. Her dramatic sigh about losing the ability to read menus during chaotic schedules caught a low, genuine chuckle from him. "Wait, they chose the food for you?" he asked, his eyebrows raising in genuine shock. A slight, scoffing laugh escaped him as he shook his head. In reality HYBE was pretty controlling with food, constantly monitoring portions, timing, and what the younger trainees and idols could or couldn’t eat, like even normal decisions had to pass through layers of approval. He stretched his legs out a bit under the table, shifting into a completely relaxed slouch, and gave her a knowing, slightly amused look. "Honestly, noona, you're doing great with the menus. Keep it up."

As the conversation shifted to how he’d been doing, and she pointed an accusing finger at his height, his eyes crinkled at the corners. "Hey, don't blame me. Growing isn't a crime," he defended himself, a grin breaking through. "Pretty sure I'm done anyway. The stylists threatened to throw a fit if they had to alter my pants one more time." His expression leveled out, the humor fading into something more grounded. Bali really did feel like a lifetime ago, swallowed up by a relentless blur of studio lights and airport gates. "I've been fine. Just the usual corporate monetization of my sleep schedule," he said dryly. He reached for the water pitcher, pouring her a glass first, then his own, the quiet clink of glass against the pitcher cutting through the restaurant’s ambient hum. He left out the worst of it. He didn't mention the stifling tension building in the dorms lately, or the exhausting weight of handling the still shocking departure of a member. He kept all that heavy baggage locked down, the way he always did, giving her the filtered, cool-headed version instead. "We're basically living in the studio. Dance, recording, getting chewed out by directors, repeat. Same loop, different day." He rolled his shoulder, actively shaking off the phantom weight of the practice room. "And management keeps promising things will slow down next month. It’s a lie every time." His gaze settled back on her, dropping the cynical edge for a moment to just look at her, really taking her in. "But whatever. I'm used to it. Just permanently exhausted." Physically and emotionally. Then a small, almost sheepish exhale. “Yeah Bali feels like it was a fever dream.” He tilted his head, his eyes tracking over her face with a quiet, observant intensity, before that faint, knowing smirk crawled back onto his lips. He leaned in just a fraction, his voice dropping into a casual, direct tone. "What about you? Is that bowling boy still in the picture? Is he actually making you happy?"

#niki.miyeon

tyongmoney

Smoke. Breath. Heat. Words.

Observance watches the wet ring forming beneath the bottle, the ash trembling at the end of the lighted cigarette, the hand that hangs loose but still restless, fingers too still in between each drag, pretending that carelessness with the kind of effort only people tired of being studied ever learn how to do. Sounds familiar. Far too familiar for his liking. Sitting one step lower, one shoulder angled against the railing behind, jacket zipped only halfway despite the cold beginning to bite through nylon. Own cigarette resting between fingers, mostly forgotten, burning down in a slow orange blink while gaze stays fixed past the river, past the broken reflection of towers trembling beneath the surface over black water.

❝ Yeah, they forget you grew up while they were busy worrying... ❞

Finally lifting the cigarette, inhaling once with a measured restraint before lowering it again. Its ember glowing briefly against the hard line of fingers. Fading. Glowing. Fading... Thumb dragging along the ridged edge of the lighter in his palm, a small metallic scrape beneath the gust. Not looking at the younger and perhaps that the mercy of it. Not performing sincerity under direct attention. Not pinning the frustration down like evidence.

❝ I get it. More than I probably should. ❞

A breath, mouth almost curves bereft of any humor in it. Just familiarity, recognition. Something that's old and ugly... Leaning forward now, elbows resting loosely against the knees, the cigarette tilted toward the ground as the ash falls in a soft ruined line near his shoe.

❝ When I was younger, I thought being responsible meant catching everything before it fell. ❞ Eyes still focusing across the river, but the practice room, emerging somewhere else at the tone of voice. LED lighting. Mirrors all fogged up until they could no longer see themselves. Count after count. Choreography after choreography. Monitored until the break of dawn. At least twenty bodies moving through one reflection, every mistake multiplying until it looked like failure before it even had time to become learning. ❝ If someone was late, I noticed. If someone was off-beat, I noticed. If the energy dropped, I noticed. I thought if I didn't say it, if I didn't fix it right away, then I wasn't doing my job. ❞

Tapping the cigarette once against concrete, ash breaking clean from the end before the wind steals that too.

❝ I don't think the standard was wrong.... But the way I carried it then, was... I was intimidating sometimes. ❞ Voice flattening slightly, like the word alone still feels unpleasant on the tongue even after all these years. ❝ Not because I wanted them scared. I just thought pressure made people sharper... It does, sometimes... ❞

Gaze shifting only enough for the younger's silhouette to sit within peripheral vision.

❝ But it also makes them quiet. So when you say the don't let you breathe... I believe you. ❞

nikiminaj7

He didn't move for a long beat, the silence between them stretching out until it was just the dull lap of the river filling the space. NI-ki didn't lean in. If anything, his frame seemed to settle further into the heavy fabric of his hoodie, his chin sinking slightly into his collar as he absorbed the weight of the older man's confession. It was rare for the older generation to hand over their own ghosts so easily. He took one final drag, the flaring bright against the shadow of his hood, before dropping the butt onto the concrete step. He crushed it out beneath the thick sole of his sneaker with a slow, twist of his ankle. Reaching down, his fingers wrapped around the cold neck of one of the convenience store bottles. He brought it to his lips, taking a long, slow swallow that burned cold all the way down, letting the sharp taste cut through the lingering film of cigarette smoke in his throat. He set the bottle back down with a dull clink, his eyes finally drifting from the black water to cut sideways through the dark, catching the line of Taeyong's profile. "Did you actually stop?" he asked, his voice scraping low against the wind, completely devoid of the usual performative edge. "The pressuring. Or is it still hard to turn it off when you're looking at them?"

There was a strange, quiet sort of comfort in the space between them. It was a rare dynamic for him, sitting here with someone who easily cleared his own hyungs' ages, yet didn't use those extra years as leverage to talk down to him. Taeyong didn’t offer the patronizing, suffocating safety nets the others always tried to force onto him; he just offered a level playing field, treating him like an equal who had earned his spot on the concrete. He appreciated it more than he’d ever openly admit, the simple luxury of being spoken to like an adult by someone who actually knew the cost of the center stage. His gaze drifted back to the the river, a dry, cynical tilt to his mouth as his thoughts looped back to the contrast waiting for him back at his own dorms. "At least you had the title to back it up when you were holding the room," he muttered, the words quiet. "With me, they only want the professional when the choreography looks messy. The second the music stops, and I’m just supposed to slide back into the box. Go back to being the kid who doesn't know how the world works." He shoved both hands deep into his sweatpants pockets, the fabric tightening over his shoulders as he slouched lower against the concrete. "They think because I started early, I missed the part where you learn how to handle yourself. But I learned faster than any of them did."

#niki.taeyong

yourmiyeon

The moment Miyeon received the pinned location earlier that week, she already knew she would show up. There was something oddly comforting about the effort coming from Ni-ki of all people, someone usually too laid-back to properly plan things first. And honestly, after spending more and more time either working or staying locked inside her apartment lately, she needed a reason to get out for a while.

By the time she reached the narrow alley, cool evening air brushing softly against her cheeks, her eyes found him almost immediately beneath the warm lantern glow. A small smile tugged at her lips. He looked put together as always, almost unfairly so for someone claiming this was “just ramen.” Her steps slowed slightly as she approached, returning his polite bow with one gentler and more familiar.

“Yah… why are you being so formal tonight?” she laughed softly, clearly amused by the respectful greeting. “You’re making me feel old.”

But the warmth in her eyes gives away that she doesn’t dislike it at all. If anything, she finds it endearing.

“And thank you,” she adds after a second, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You look nice too. Very suspiciously stylish for someone eating ramen at 9 p.m.”

There’s something comfortable about being around him tonight. Easy. No cameras shoved in her face, no expectations sitting heavy on her shoulders, no thoughts lingering too loudly in the back of her mind, well almost. Just good company and warm food. As he gestures toward the entrance, Miyeon glances at him once more before stepping closer beside him, the smell of broth and spices already drifting through the cracked doorway.

“I’m glad you asked me to come,” she admits quietly, genuine this time. “Otherwise I probably would’ve stayed home again.” Miyeon’s eyes drift around the ramen shop almost immediately, taking in the warm lighting, quiet conversations, and the comforting smell of broth filling the air. To their luck, it wasn’t too crowded tonight either just busy enough to feel alive without overwhelming her. A faint smile settles on her lips as she slips her hands into the sleeves of her coat again, glancing back toward him.

“Okay… this is actually nice,” she admits softly. “Very good choice, Niki-ya.”

nikiminaj7

The teasing lilt in her voice when she called him out for being so formal caught him entirely off guard. "You're not old, noona. You're very pretty," he murmured, the compliment slipping out with a polite, matter-of-fact sincerity completely devoid of any flirtatious pretense. Truthfully, he didn't even know her exact age, he just knew she was a senior in the industry who carried herself with a quiet elegance he deeply respected. To him, the bow was standard courtesy for someone he genuinely wanted to impress, even if his typical reputation suggested a much more rebellious attitude. When she teased him about being suspiciously stylish for a casual ramen run, a small, sheepish smile pulled at the corner of his lips. He looked down, the heavy silver chains layered around his neck clinking softly together against his shirt as he shifted his weight in his baggy jeans. "You know...I just didn't want to look like a mess when hanging out with you," he admitted softly. Her quiet confession that she would have stayed home if he hadn't text her made something soften behind his eyes. Turning toward the shop, he reached past her to catch the handle of the sliding wooden door, his tall frame naturally shielding her from the chilly alley wind as he ushered her inside ahead of himself.

The heavy door slid shut behind them, instantly enveloping them in the rich, savory steam of simmering broth and the low hum of the late-night crowd. Ni-ki didn't even glance toward the exposed counter; instead, he scanned the room until he spotted a high-backed wooden booth tucked away in the deepest shadow of the far corner, offering them total privacy from the rest of the world. He waited for her to slide into the booth first, standing by until she was settled before taking the seat opposite her. Slipping off his oversized leather jacket, he draped it over the back of the bench and leaned forward, resting his forearms on the dark wood.

"I'm glad you came out too," he said, his tone warm as he immediately slid the laminated menu over to her side. His hands moved with a practiced courtesy, reaching for the utensil basket to lay out a clean pair of chopsticks and a spoon neatly in front of her so she wouldn't have to lift a finger. "I don't mind being the excuse you need to take a break. Take a look, noona. Order whatever you like, it's all on me tonight."

#niki.miyeon

𝖇𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖇𝖊𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖔𝖚𝖗 & 𝖗𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖓 𝖇𝖔𝖜𝖑𝖘, 𝟗:𝟎𝟎 𝖕𝖒 @yourmiyeon

For Ni-ki, comfort wasn’t something that came naturally, especially not around a noona who carried herself with such a flawless princess grace. Yet, Miyeon had a way of completely dismantling the walls he usually kept high, trading rigid industry boundaries for a rare, platonic camaraderie that he genuinely wanted to keep around. He wasn’t the type to initiate plans either, but the text he’d sent her earlier that week had been effortless: a pinned location to a low-key, late-night ramen place tucked into a quiet alley. True to form, his meticulous styling routine back at the dorms had run right up to the wire. Every piece of his outfit had to sit exactly right, resulting in him pulling up to the curb exactly on time rather than a minute early. He stood just outside the glowing lantern of the shop’s entrance, checking his phone screen one last time to make sure he hadn't missed a message. When her silhouette finally appeared at the mouth of the alley, Ni-ki immediately slipped his phone into the pocket of his oversized leather jacket. Even in a casual setting, she looked like she belonged on a curated runway, a sharp contrast to the gritty, shadowed street.

For some weird reason he couldn't quite put his finger on, he found himself wanting to be on his absolute best behavior tonight, subtly shedding his usual aloof persona to be a genuinely good boy around her. He stepped forward to bridge the distance, offering her a formal, polite bow that showed total respect. When he straightened up, a soft, sincere smile replaced his usual sharp smirk. "You look really nice tonight, noona," he said, his voice dropping into a quiet, low register that carried a warm, polite tone. He took a half-step back, gesturing toward the sliding wooden door of the shop with a subtle, protective tilt to his shoulders. "I'm really glad you made it. Come on, let's head inside out of the chill so we can grab a booth and order."

#niki.miyeon

𝖒𝖚𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖓𝖊𝖔𝖓, 2:00 𝖆𝖒. @tyongmoney

The neon glare of the SM practice room and the rushed blur of a late-night restaurant dinner were already fading into a distant, muted background. Now, the night had slowed down to a crawl.

The Han River at two in the morning was stripped of its daylight romance, reduced to a bleak, vast expanse of black glass swallowing the neon bleeding from the city’s distant skyline. It was dead silent, save for the low, rhythmic lap of the water against the concrete banks and the biting wind that whipped off the surface. Ni-ki sat a few steps up on the stairs, a dark silhouette thoroughly drowned in the heavy cotton of an oversized hoodie and loose sweatpants. Between his sneakers and Taeyong’s shoes sat a handful of condensation-beaded bottles bought on a whim from a fluorescent-lit register, clinking like a dull wind chime whenever the breeze caught them. He leaned his elbows on his knees, hands dangling in the space between them. With a careless twitch of his fingers, he tapped the side of his cigarette. A tiny constellation of orange and gray drifted down into the dark before he pulled the filter back to his lips. The sudden, hot glow of the cherry caught the sharp visual of his jawline, cutting through the shadows for a split second before drowning him in darkness again.

He exhaled a slow, ghost-white stream of smoke that immediately tore apart in the wind. He didn't look over, keeping his gaze locked onto the dark water ahead as he spoke, his voice dropping into that low, slightly raspy register that usually meant he was genuinely annoyed. "They still do it. Act like I'm fifteen and need a keeper, but the second I say anything back, suddenly I'm the one being difficult. It's exhausting," he muttered, a brief, bitter edge fracturing his usual detached tone.

#niki.taeyong

xo-iceprince-xo

#niki.jpg

ni-kidaily

TIKTOK: CORTIS - 선배님과 that's REDRED 🚨 JAMES and NI-KI

#niki.jpg

antontual

NI-KI - LIMBO (원곡 : keshi)

this cutie ( ˃ ⌑ ˂ )

Eunchae: Me chicken out??? Pffftt Eunchae: I'm good at hiding things from my unnies. Just don't throw me under the bus when they're around. Ok? Ok. Giggles to herself as she types then re-types her last message. Eunchae: Gimme 5 minutes & I'll be there! Eunchae: Will you hold my hand when I get my piercing?

nikiminaj7

Niki: idk, you always run out when something happens Niki: …why would i hold your hand?????? …regrets the text immediately. stops. types again, quicker Niki: no wait Niki: yeah, i mean sure Niki: i’ll hold your hand

#niki.eunchae

ni-kidaily

TIKTOK - drop it down

#niki.jpg

ni-kidaily

260329 meet and greet

#niki.jpg

lemanchae

Eunchae: Idek!!!! My unnies will be mad but I rlly want one 🥺 Eunchae: Ok bet, I'll be right there. DONT LEAVEMEHANGING!

nikiminaj7

Niki: hah, your unnies can deal, hide it from them Niki: just don’t chicken out when you get here …typing stops, then another message Niki: i know a good spot… got my tattoo there, you’ll be fine. so move it, belly button queen

#niki.eunchae

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