Invisible Wounds

For three days, Ni-ki remained unconscious.

The hospital room was never empty—at least one of the members was always there, watching over him, taking turns assisting the nurses. The guilt that weighed on their hearts kept them from leaving his side, even for a moment.

When the nurses arrived to bathe and dress him, they offered to help. They couldn’t erase what they had done, but they could at least take care of him now.

Jungwon wiped the sweat from Ni-ki’s burning forehead, whispering apologies he wasn’t sure Ni-ki could even hear. Jay adjusted his blankets, making sure he stayed warm, while Jake gently held his hand, hoping Ni-ki would feel his presence even in his deep slumber.

Sunghoon was there the most.

He barely spoke, barely moved from his chair beside the hospital bed. Every time he looked at Ni-ki’s still form, the bruises on his shoulders a painful reminder of his own actions, he felt like throwing up.

He should have never pushed him that hard.

He should have never let things get this far.

And now, the boy who was once their bright, lively maknae lay motionless, his body weak, his fever still dangerously high.

It was their fault.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐

On the third day, when the sun had just begun to rise, Ni-ki stirred.

His eyelashes fluttered, his fingers twitched against the blanket. His body felt heavy, his throat dry. A dull ache pounded behind his eyes, and his chest felt tight.

The first thing he saw was Sunghoon.

The older boy was sitting beside his bed, his head drooped forward, arms crossed over his chest as he dozed off in an uncomfortable position. He looked exhausted—his face was paler than usual, his lips pressed together even in sleep.

Ni-ki blinked, his vision blurry from the tears that immediately formed.

He could still hear them.

All the words they had spoken when they thought he was unconscious.

The soft apologies. The regret. The whispered encouragement.

The warmth in their voices that had been missing for so long.

But instead of comforting him, it made his chest tighten painfully.

Because it was too late.

He had spent weeks drowning in loneliness, in exhaustion, in pain. He had been ignored, blamed, and pushed aside.

And now, suddenly, they cared?

Ni-ki clenched his fists beneath the blanket, his nails digging into his palms. His body felt too weak to move, but his heart ached far worse than any fever.

He didn’t want to wake up.

If he did, he’d have to face them.

Face the people who had abandoned him when he needed them the most.

So, he closed his eyes again, forcing himself back into sleep, even as silent tears slipped down his cheeks.

Even in his dreams, he couldn’t escape the pain.