Cortis x illit

The fluorescent lights of the HYBE practice room felt brighter than usual, reflecting off the polished hardwood floors where eleven idols stood in a tense, expectant semi-circle. It had been three months since the MAMA collab stage—the "Magnetic" and "Nightfall" mashup that had sent the internet into a frenzy. What had started as a one-time performance had evolved into a corporate decision that would change their lives forever.

"The contracts are signed," the manager announced, his voice echoing. "From today, Illit and Cortis will operate as a single unit for all future promotions. We are calling this the 'Eclipse Project.' You will live in the same complex, practice together, and share a schedule."

James, the eldest of the Cortis boys at twenty, crossed his arms over his chest. He was usually the most composed, but his eyes were darting toward the far end of the line. He wasn't looking at the leader, Yunah, or the visual powerhouse Minju. His gaze was fixed on a tiny figure buried in an oversized lavender hoodie.

Iroha, the fourteen-year-old maknae of Illit, looked even smaller than he remembered. Standing at barely five feet, she was currently trying to hide behind Yunah’s arm, her big, doe-like eyes blinking at the five tall boys standing opposite her.

"Wait," Keonho whispered, leaning toward Seonghyeon. At sixteen, Keonho was the youngest of the boys, but he still towered over Iroha. "Is she real? I forgot how small she was. She looks like a plushie."

Seonghyeon, the group’s resident jokester, didn't even crack a smile for once. His protective instincts, usually reserved for his own members, were already flaring up. "She’s tiny. We need to make sure no one steps on her during the choreography."

As the managers left the room to let the groups mingle, the thick silence was broken by Martin. As the leader of Cortis, he was 6’3” of pure charisma and protective energy. He stepped forward, his shadow practically engulfing Iroha as he approached.

"Hey," Martin said, his voice softening significantly from his usual commanding tone. "Iroha, right?"

Iroha looked up, and up, and up. She gave a shy, polite bow, her pigtails bouncing. "Yes, Martin-sunbaenim. I look forward to working with you."

The "sunbaenim" seemed to physically pain Martin. He winced, then immediately crouched down so he was closer to her eye level—though even crouching, he wasn't much shorter than her. "None of that. We’re a family now. You can call me Oppa."

"Oppa," Iroha repeated obediently, her voice small and sweet.

Behind them, James made a strangled noise in his throat. He pushed past Martin, his fatherly instincts redlining. "Is she cold? Why is she wearing such a big hoodie? Is she eating enough? Yunah-ssi, does she have snacks?"

Yunah laughed, placing a hand on Iroha’s head. "She’s fine, James. She just had a strawberry mochi five minutes ago. She’s our baby, she’s always taken care of."

"Well, now she has five more people to take care of her," James declared, his face set in a mask of absolute seriousness. He reached out, tentatively patting Iroha’s shoulder. "I’m the main choreographer for the new unit stages. If any move is too hard or if you’re tired, you tell me. I’ll change the whole routine."

Juhoon, the quiet visual of Cortis, stood back for a moment, simply observing. He was known for being stoic, but as he watched Iroha shyly tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, his heart did a strange little flip. He walked over silently, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small, plush keychain of a cat he’d bought at the airport.

Without a word, he held it out to her.

Iroha’s eyes widened. "For me?"

Juhoon nodded once, his ears turning slightly pink. "It looked like you. Clingy. Cute."

"Thank you, Juhoon-oppa!" Iroha beamed, and the sheer radiance of her aegyo seemed to hit the boys like a physical wave.

Keonho and Seonghyeon exchanged a look. They were two-thirds of the "Three Musketeers," a trio completed by Iroha herself in the fans' eyes after their collab stage. They didn't waste any time.

"Okay, move aside, old men," Keonho said, shoving Martin and James playfully. He looped an arm around Iroha’s shoulders—or rather, over her head, considering the height difference. "Iroha-chan! We’re the prankster line now. Seonghyeon and I have a plan to hide the manager’s shoes, and we need someone small enough to crawl into the locker space."

"Don't corrupt the child!" Moka shouted from across the room, though she was smiling. She and Minju were watching the scene with a mix of amusement and relief. They had been worried about how the groups would blend, but seeing the boys immediately gravitate toward their youngest was a good sign.

"She’s not a tool for your mischief," Seonghyeon scolded Keonho, though he immediately pinched Iroha’s cheek. "She’s the treasure. Look at her. She’s like a little fairy."

Wonhee, Iroha’s best friend and fellow "baby" of the group at seventeen, squeezed in between them. "Hey, she’s my best friend first! You guys are being too clingy. You’re going to scare her."

"I’m not scared," Iroha said, giggling. The sound was high and melodic, causing James to clutch his chest.

"Did you hear that?" James whispered to Martin. "We have to protect that laugh. If anyone ever makes her cry, I’m retiring from the industry to become a full-time bodyguard."

"Get in line," Martin muttered, already looking at the practice schedule. "I’m making sure her breaks are doubled. And she’s sitting next to me at every meal. I don't trust Keonho not to steal her side dishes."

As the afternoon progressed into their first joint rehearsal, the dynamic became even more apparent. Usually, Cortis was known for their sharp, aggressive hip-hop style, while Illit was ethereal and playful. Merging the two required balance, but the boys were making it difficult.

Every time Iroha had to do a floor move, James was there to make sure the floor wasn't too slippery. When they took a five-minute water break, Martin was already there with a bottle, unscrewing the cap for her before she could even reach for it.

"I can do it myself, Oppa," Iroha said, reaching for the water.

"I know you can," Martin replied, his 6’3” frame towering over her as he shielded her from the draft of the air conditioner. "But you don't have to. That’s what big brothers are for."

Juhoon, meanwhile, had claimed the spot on the floor next to her bag. He didn't say much, but whenever someone walked too close to Iroha’s belongings, he gave them a look that could freeze a volcano. He was like a silent sentinel, guarding the smallest member of the new mega-group.

During a run-through of their new song, Seonghyeon and Keonho were positioned on either side of Iroha for the chorus. They were supposed to be focused on the mirror, but they kept glancing down at her, matching their energy to hers. When Iroha nailed a difficult turn, Keonho let out a loud "Wooo!" that earned him a glare from the performance director.

"Focus, Keonho!" the director yelled.

"I am focusing!" Keonho shouted back. "I’m focusing on the fact that our maknae is a genius!"

Iroha blushed a deep crimson, hiding her face in her hands. "Oppa, please stop!"

"Never," Seonghyeon vowed, striking a dramatic pose. "We are the Three Musketeers. All for one, and one for the tiny one."

By the time the sun began to set, the exhaustion of a ten-hour practice session was starting to show on everyone. Iroha, who had been practicing her solo dance break for the last hour, finally slumped against the wall, her legs giving out from under her.

Before she could even hit the floor, James was there, catching her by the elbows. "Whoa, okay, that’s it. Practice is over for the baby."

"I’m okay, James-oppa," she panted, her face flushed. "I just need a second."

"You need a nap and a gallon of strawberry milk," Martin said, walking over and effortlessly scooping her up into his arms.

Iroha let out a squeak of surprise as she was hoisted into the air. Being held by Martin was like being held by a giant; her feet didn't even come close to the ground. "Martin-oppa! Put me down, I can walk!"

"Nonsense," Martin said, adjusting his grip so she was tucked securely against his chest. "You’re five feet of pure exhaustion. I’m carrying you to the van."

"I want to carry her!" Keonho complained, jogging after them. "It’s my turn! I’m the youngest boy, it’s my duty!"

"You’ll drop her," Juhoon said quietly, walking past Keonho with Iroha’s backpack slung over his shoulder.

"I will not! I have great upper body strength!"

The girls of Illit followed behind the chaotic parade, shaking their heads.

"I think we lost our maknae," Minju joked, watching as James and Seonghyeon argued over who got to open the van door for Iroha.

"No," Yunah said, a soft smile on her face. "I think she just gained five more bodyguards. Look at her."

Inside Martin’s arms, Iroha had stopped protesting. She had leaned her head against his shoulder, her eyes fluttering shut. She felt safe. It was a strange, new world, merging two groups into one, but as she felt the protective presence of her new brothers surrounding her, she knew she was going to be just fine.

As they reached the van, Martin gently settled her into the plush back seat. James immediately appeared with a travel blanket he’d grabbed from the lounge, tucking it around her small frame.

"Sleep, Iroha-ya," James whispered, his voice full of a fatherly tenderness that usually only came out when he was talking to his own siblings. "We’ll wake you up when we get to the dorms."

Iroha drifted off to the sound of Keonho and Seonghyeon bickering in hushed tones about who got to sit in the seat next to her, and the steady, comforting presence of Juhoon and Martin standing guard at the door.

The Eclipse Project was supposed to be a business move—a way to dominate the charts and create a global powerhouse. But as the van pulled away from the HYBE building, it didn't feel like a business arrangement. It felt like a family. And at the center of it all was a tiny, fourteen-year-old girl who had, without even trying, captured the hearts of five of the most protective boys in the industry.

The world wouldn't know what hit them when the eleven of them finally stepped onto the stage together. But for now, in the quiet of the van, the only thing that mattered was making sure their littlest member had sweet dreams.