Chapter Text
Jisung wasn’t overly shy and he wasn’t super self-conscious; no more so than the average person. He didn’t worry too much about what the people thought of him if they thought he was weird or winey. He didn’t care when he was mocked for caring for his members – he enjoyed doing so. He loved supporting them, highlighting them, writing for them, watching them. But he didn’t like worrying them.
He wasn’t one to take too much credence in the age system in Korea. He honored it when it was expected of him, called Chan ‘hyung’ and played around with Felix claiming that ‘a day was still enough time to be older,’ but he really didn’t buy that a few months were enough to justify actual growth and maturity.
Even so, Jisung felt worrying Jeongin was the worst thing he could do.
Jisung hated causing trouble for Chan, but the older had explicitly told him that he worried far more when Jisung pretended things were fine. Worrying Changbin was also painful for Jisung, but they shared everything. It wouldn’t be fair for him to listen to the older while also keeping things from him.
With Woojin and Minho, it was more a matter of easing their existing worry than not causing it to begin with. Perhaps Woojin worried more because he was the eldest and maybe Minho’s heart was just too big, but those two always worried a bit.
Hyunjin and Seungmin were easily swayed one way or the other, sharing the same age and the same troubles. Things were neither shared nor kept, they just were among them.
Felix was special. He and Jisung had always shared things. It often felt as though they’d known each other for decades rather than years. They also read each other well, both knowing what the other needed or wanted without words being passed between them.
But Jisung hated causing Jeongin to worry. It wasn’t just that he was younger, Jeongin had a pure, honest, and kind edge to him that Jisung wanted to protect. Even if the world wanted it to be broken. He didn’t want to be the one to soil that. Whether the younger knew Jisung kept personal troubles from him wasn’t clear. If he did know Jisung fought hard to not share his fears or pains, Jeongin had never mentioned it aloud.
The youngest member of 3racha never hid his affection and respect for their maknae. Jeongin’s kind heart, passionate drive, and desire to prove himself was so endearing, Jisung couldn’t easily pretend he felt differently. And while Jeongin wasn’t one to ask for help, he did allow Jisung to help him from time to time.
All that aside, Jisung was pleased when they ended up rooming together. It hadn’t been some epic change, but it made him feel slightly more important. Especially, on the few occasions where Jeongin would express his nervousness about their upcoming schedules or his concerns over their upcoming recording sessions.
Jisung also enjoyed their other conversations. Jeongin was a deep thinker – considerate – and often shared his thoughts on society, people, and life.
There were things that Jisung found less fun. Like Jeongin’s love of startling him, Jeongin’s love of frightening him, and Jeongin’s love of trying to get him to scream.
It was well-known that Jisung was afraid of a lot of things, that lots of things made him jump. Easily startled like the squirrel he’d been told he embodied. All of Stray Kids knew this – the world probably knew this – and while it was embarrassing often, Jisung easily brushed off the comments and the teasing that resulted. People found it funny and cute, and he couldn’t judge them for laughing at him. Especially, since they didn’t know the full extent of his fears or why things affected him as they did.
Chan knew of course. The Aussie had seen some of the worst moments and hardest hits. But the others remained mostly unaware. And Jisung hoped to keep it that way. His fears were childish and mortifying, and they made him feel pathetic. Pathetic to be affected by a thing that happened so long ago, a thing that was nothing more than an unkind prank.
Normally Jisung was able to play off his fear and anxiety, laugh with the others when needed, and shift the subject onto something less embarrassing.
However, this was not one of those moments.
They were all exhausted. Between day long dance rehearsals, hours of composition finalizing, and late night recordings none of them were against forgoing food for sleep. Even Chan had retired to his bed soon after the group returned to the dorms.
Both Jisung and Jeongin passed out shortly after shutting the lights out in their shared room, both deep asleep and entirely unmoving.
Then the first explosion rang out, illuminating the room as the light filtered in through their drawn blinds, and vibrations resonating through the thin walls and rattling the windows.
Jisung’s eyes snapped open and his entire body froze, suddenly petrified, as the second and third explosion shook the walls again.
“What was that?” Jeongin’s voice was thick, laced with exhaustion and annoyance, and a touch of curiosity.
The younger’s words barely bridged the gap between them, Jisung felt his heart explode with the next bang. Suddenly unable to breathe or even think.
“Fireworks?” Jeongin asked clumsily moving from his bed to the window, “Can we see them from here? It’s gotta be illegal to be shooting them off from a building in the city, right?”
The ringing and panic had enveloped Jisung’s entire being; nearly impenetrable. His hands burned, his chest hurt, his mind couldn’t rationalize it, couldn’t function. He could practically feel the sparks splash painfully against his skin.
“Hyung?” Jeongin’s curiosity wavered, “Sungie-hyung?”
Jisung had curled in on himself, hands pressed painfully against his ears and nails digging into his temples, shaking erratically.
“What’s wrong?! Are you sick?” the maknae’s voice was terrified, but he still moved the short distance instantly. He carefully tried to remove the blankets and help Jisung in whatever way he could, “I - can you hear me? Sungie-hyung? Can you breathe? What’s happening?”
The words were distorted; low and drawn out. Jisung tried to acknowledge them, tried to quell the Jeongin’s fears. But, all he managed to do was whimper breathily.
“Okay...okay,” Jeongin’s own voice rose with panic, “I’m here.” He quickly grabbed onto Jisung awkwardly pulling the older boy up enough so that he could be cradled into Jeongin’s chest, “Are you sick Hyung? You’re sweaty and shaking...I don’t…”
The younger’s warmth and arms pushed out some of Jisung’s panic. The explosions continued, but had become background noise overshadowed by his body’s reaction, “I...please.”
“Oh thank god…” Jeongin’s entire body deflated, falling against Jisung’s, and his arms tightened, “thank god...okay. Everything is fine...thank god.”
It took a few more minutes for Jisung’s heart to stop racing and for him to breathe easily again, “sorry…”
“What? What happened? Are you alright? Do you need Chan-hyung? Or a doctor – or –“
“No. No, I’m alright,” his body felt like led, but Jisung wasn’t in actual danger and the embarrassment was slowly building with every question of concern the younger asked.
“What happened Hyung?” Jeongin’s voice was soft, kind, and worried, “was it the fireworks? They were really loud.”
Before Jisung could construct an answer the door opened cautiously, and Chan’s head popped in, “Ah, I’d hoped you managed to sleep through it. You guys alright?” he questioned softly trying to catch Jisung’s eyes, “Those fireworks were really loud – Felix fell out of the bed.”
“Jisungie-hyung had a panic attack!” Jeongin blurted out before he could be silenced.
Chan said nothing, simply closed the door and walked over. Another firework exploded above them, momentarily lighting up the room again in shades of reds and gold; Jisung flinched violently at the unexpected blast.
“I’m fine Channie-hyung, just startled is all,” he muttered, hands still balled into fists, “I didn’t expect it…”
Chan paused thoughtfully, “Of course you weren’t Sung. None of us were. Woojin has already called the police. And,” he sat down next to them, “like I said, ‘lix fell out of bed – got a bloody nose. Seungmin was tending to it.”
“Is ‘lixie okay?” Jisung sat up more, as much as he could with Jeongin’s arms still latched around him.
“Of course. He’ll bruise, but he’ll be alright. So?”
With reluctance, Jisung pulled farther away from the youngest’s grasp and positioned himself between the two, “It startled me it all.”
“No.” Jeongin spoke up, quiet but persistent, “Startled is like a brief jump or something. He was terrified Chan-hyung. I thought he was sick or...or dying…” there was an edge of hysteria to the last words.
“I wasn’t –“
“Hyung, he was barely breathing and shaking and sweating…”
“It’s alright Jeonginie,” Chan placated quietly, “Ji?”
“Yeah…”
“How bad was it?” Chan was the only one to have seen him freak out before; though Changbin had found them shortly after.
“It wasn’t that bad Hyung,” Jisung could practically feel the younger preparing to interject, “compared to that one time, it wasn’t bad. I promise…” Jisung wasn’t even sure what had set him off that time, but Chan had found him in the empty practice room. Jisung barely even remembered the episode, but it was clearly branded onto Chan’s brain.
“That time? What time?!” Jeongin sounded inquisitive but entirely horrified.
“Don’t worry about it,” Jisung cut Chan off before the Aussie could even start, “It’s not common. I’m sorry for scaring you.”
The silence was unnerving, but Jisung really didn’t know what else he should say.
“I think it might be time you shared that story with everyone Sungie,” Chan said carefully though he quickly added, “tomorrow, we’ll talk more about it tomorrow.” he sighed quietly and yawned into his palm. “Really talk about it. Sounds like they have stopped at least. Try to sleep, okay? I’ll be just next door if you need me Sungie. Either of you. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight Hyung,” Jeongin called out just as Chan closed the door, before turning instantly to Jisung, “Now talk.”
“Jeongin…”
“No. Talk,” the young vocalist demanded defiantly, “please.”
“There’s nothing to talk about Jeongin.”
“There is. You wouldn’t keep trying to brush me off otherwise. You freaked me out. Now talk.”
“It’s stupid really. A dumb thing, just some assholes from when I was little. Embarrassing really,”
“Sungie-hyung,”
“Alright fine, stop...it really is stupid...I,” Jisung paused for a second, uncomfortable and unsure, “Just, don’t laugh. Alright?”
“I won’t,” Jeongin turned, “I promise.”
Jisung took a deep breath, hoping to sound indifferent while still rushing through everything, “In elementary school, there was this group of boys who liked to pick on me. You know? Play pranks and things, normal stuff. Call me names and steal my lunch sometimes, pushing.” he held up a hand when it looked like Jeongin was going to interrupt. “It wasn’t really that bad, at first anyway. I think I was five or so when they first did it.”
Even five-year-old Jisung should have known something was off when his main tormentors were just standing there watching him. But, he didn’t. He’d been having a great day. His teacher complimented his drawing and had even given him a piece of candy as a reward.
The future rapper was practically skipping to his cubby, hands quickly pulling his bag from it without care, and that’s when it happened.
The sound, feeling, and pain happened simultaneously. A loud pop, like a large balloon exploding by his ear. The sudden rips at the edges of his bag. And the fiery needle-like pain spreading across his palms, forearms, and right bicep.
The bag had exploded in his hands.
The group of boys laughed maniacally, unbothered by Jisung’s tears or the red blotches on his skin, and ran out of the room long before Jisung recovered. They didn’t get caught that day. He was too afraid to tell on them, instead, he tried to hide his injuries.
They also didn’t get caught the second time when they rigged Jisung’s lunch box; thankfully, though terrified both Jisung and the lunch box weren’t damaged.
The final time was the one that really stands out in Jisung’s mind. It was the one he dreamt about on occasion, the one that haunts him.
He left the school building, just like every other day, starting his short walk home – a thing that brought the young boy a great deal of pride. He had just passed the edge of campus when the first explosion happened. A water bottle dropped from above. Jisung had screamed, frozen, and closed his eyes missing the distorted bits of plastic landing near his feet. The second and third bottles landed nearby, the sound of cracking plastic only caused Jisung to cower further. However, the fourth hit its mark.
The bottle weighed down with sand, struck Jisung’s left shoulder. Thankfully, startling him enough to flinch sideways and causing it to slip from its perch. When it exploded the sand burned his neck and the plastic – hot on the edges – cut into his arm. But it was the sound that really got to him.
“I think I must have screamed…” Jisung refused to look towards Jeongin, still expecting laughter, “one of the kids shouted at me to shut up, but – I,” he ran a frustrated hand through his hair, “It burned, it hurt, the sound. It was so loud, Jeongin. I couldn’t stop crying.”
Jisung didn’t know what to expect, but he was surprised when Jeongin pulled him back into another hug.
“They got in trouble, right? Arrested or expelled? Both? Something?!”
“I don’t think we were old enough to get arrested, Jeongin,” Jisung relaxed, suddenly more exhausted than he had been.
“They could have seriously hurt you! If it had exploded at your ear –“ Jeongin was deadly serious, his voice deep, “They should have been punished.”
“They were, or at least the ring leader was. He’d been stealing those explosive things from his dad.”
“What, he got grounded? That isn’t punishment Hyung.”
“Trust me Jeonginie, his dad was a big enough punishment,” Jisung paused, “Plus, I don’t think they were trying to hurt me.”
“You could have lost your hearing…”
“I guess,”
“And your eyesight…Sungie-hyung, those things would have prevented you from joining us…” Jeongin paused again briefly, “Why haven’t you told us before? We’ve all talked about school and you’ve never said you were bullied…”
“It’s not important,”
“But it still bothers you. We,” he stuttered slightly, “we’d never of made fun of you for being easily scared by things if we had known there was such a horrible reason behind it…it’s not funny…”
Jisung bit his lip quietly thinking for a moment, “you don’t think it’s stupid? That I should, I don’t know, just get over it.”
“No.” the maknae pulled away slowly, “I think anyone would have been tortured by such a thing. And, and…you were worried we’d of thought it was funny.” The grim realization flashed over Jeongin’s features and it tore into Jisung.
“No. I mean, yeah – a little – but not really,” sighing in frustration, Jisung fell back onto the bed and waited until Jeongin mimicked him, “my classmates then thought it was funny. The one got in trouble with his dad, but the others and our classmates, they all thought it was pretty hilarious.”
“Well, I don’t.”
“I know.”
“Chan-hyung doesn’t –“
“I didn’t –“
“You know Felix-hyung would be enraged, probably try to find those idiots. Hyunjin-hyung too.”
“Jeon-“
“I’m sure Changbin-hyung and Seungmin-hyung would also be outraged…Woojin-hyung would probably join ‘lix-hyung on a rampage come to think of it. Gentle bear he might be, you know he’d kill for any of us.”
“I know Jeonginie…”
“Minho-hyung will be upset,” Jeongin turned, repositioned Jisung and himself so that the blankets could cover them, “He’d probably just think about all the times he tried to frighten you…”
“I’ll tell everyone tomorrow…okay?”
“Okay. Goodnight Hyung.”
“Thank you,” Jisung allowed himself to take comfort in Jeongin’s warmth, “for everything.”