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Minho dribbled the basketball down the court, his focus razor-sharp as he prepared to take another shot. The steady thud of the ball echoed through the gym, accompanied by the squeak of sneakers on the polished floor. Practice had ended almost an hour ago, but Minho wasn’t ready to leave just yet. He was known for staying behind, always fine-tuning his form, pushing himself to be better. His reputation on campus as one of the best players on the university’s basketball team didn’t just come from raw talent—it was the result of hard work, the kind of dedication that set him apart.
“Still going, Minho?” Chan called from the sidelines, slinging a towel around his neck. He was already halfway out the door, but turned back, shaking his head with a grin. “The game’s tomorrow. Take it easy, man.”
Minho shot the ball, watching it arc perfectly through the hoop. “I know. Just getting in some extra shots.”
Chan laughed, shaking his head as he left, the sound of the gym doors closing behind him. Minho wiped the sweat from his forehead and grabbed his water bottle. He was used to the attention, the pressure of being one of the team’s stars. It came with the territory. On the court, everyone saw him, wanted to talk to him, be around him. Off the court, it wasn’t much different. People naturally gravitated towards him—he had the talent, the looks, and the charisma that made him stand out in any crowd.
Except there was one person who never seemed to notice him.
Minho hadn’t thought much of it the first time he’d called out to that guy—he didn’t even know his name yet. It had been during one of their shared lectures a few weeks ago. The guy had dropped his pencil on his way out of class, and Minho, ever the polite one, had picked it up and tried to get his attention.
“Hey! You dropped this!” Minho had shouted, holding the pencil up.
But the guy just kept walking, completely ignoring him. Minho had stood there, a little confused, but he brushed it off, thinking maybe the guy just didn’t hear him. No big deal.
Then it happened again. And again. Each time, Minho would try to catch his attention, and each time the guy would just walk away like Minho didn’t exist. It started to bother him. Minho wasn’t used to being ignored—especially not by someone who seemed so quiet and unassuming. Who was this guy? And why did he seem so intent on pretending Minho didn’t exist?
As Minho left the gym and headed across campus, the cool evening air hitting his face, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. It wasn’t like he needed to be noticed by everyone, but there was something about being ignored that just felt… off. It gnawed at him, especially because it wasn’t like this guy was part of a different crowd or actively avoiding him. It was like he didn’t even know Minho existed.
And that stung a little.
---
A week later, Minho was sitting in the student lounge, scrolling through his phone while waiting for practice to start. His teammates were scattered around the room, talking about random things. Felix and Hyunjin were deep in a conversation about some new artist they’d discovered, and Jeongin was making jokes with Seungmin, who was pretending to be annoyed but secretly enjoying it.
Minho’s attention, however, was drawn to a nearby group of students talking in hushed tones. He couldn’t hear everything they were saying, but a familiar face caught his eye—the guy who had been ignoring him for the past few weeks. He was sitting with a couple of other students, scribbling in a notebook while they talked.
“I heard he has some hearing issue,” one of the students said, their voice carrying over to where Minho sat. “Like, he can’t hear properly or something. His hearing aids are really old.”
“Really?” another one said. “No wonder he’s so quiet. I thought he was just shy.”
Minho froze, the words sinking in. Hearing aids? He glanced over at the guy—Jisung, he finally heard someone call him—watching as he adjusted something in his ear. It hit him like a ton of bricks.
Jisung wasn’t ignoring him. He hadn’t heard him.
A mix of emotions swirled in Minho’s chest—relief, guilt, and embarrassment all at once. He’d been frustrated for weeks, thinking Jisung was brushing him off, when in reality, Jisung probably hadn’t heard a single word he’d said. Minho felt a wave of regret wash over him. How could he have been so clueless?
He glanced down at his phone, suddenly feeling stupid for all the times he’d been annoyed. Of course, Jisung hadn’t been ignoring him—he hadn’t been able to hear him.
---
The next day, Minho made up his mind. He was going to approach Jisung, but this time, he’d do it differently. He wouldn’t just shout across a crowded room or assume Jisung could hear him perfectly fine. No, he’d be more considerate. After all, he wasn’t a jerk—he just hadn’t known.
He spotted Jisung outside the library, sitting on one of the benches, scribbling in his notebook again. Minho walked over, feeling a little nervous, which wasn’t a feeling he was used to. He wasn’t sure how Jisung would react, but he knew he had to try.
“Hey,” Minho said softly, making sure he was standing close enough for Jisung to see him. He waved a little, hoping to catch his attention without startling him.
Jisung looked up, blinking in surprise. His eyes widened slightly as he saw Minho standing there, but he didn’t say anything right away. Instead, he took out one of his hearing aids, adjusting it before giving Minho a small nod.
“Can I sit?” Minho asked, gesturing to the spot next to Jisung.
Jisung hesitated for a second before nodding again. “Sure.”
Minho sat down, feeling a little awkward but determined to push through it. “I, uh… I’ve been trying to talk to you for a while,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I didn’t realize… you know, about the hearing thing.”
Jisung’s expression softened slightly, though he still looked a little cautious. “It’s fine. Most people don’t.”
“I’m sorry if I came off weird,” Minho said quickly. “I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay,” Jisung interrupted, his voice quiet but not unfriendly. “It happens a lot. My hearing aids aren’t great, and sometimes I just turn them off when they’re too annoying to deal with.”
Minho nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. “I didn’t mean to bother you. I just wanted to say hi.”
Jisung gave him a small smile, and for the first time, Minho felt like maybe he was starting to understand this quiet, reserved guy a little better.
And as they sat there, the conversation flowed more easily than Minho had expected. He found himself wanting to know more about Jisung—not just about his hearing loss, but about everything else. There was something about Jisung that intrigued him, something quiet yet captivating, and Minho wasn’t going to ignore it anymore.
As the days passed, Minho found himself thinking more and more about Jisung. After their first real conversation outside the library, he became more aware of Jisung's presence around campus, in a way he hadn’t before. Now, every time he spotted him, Minho paid extra attention, making sure not to shout from across the room or talk over background noise that would make it hard for Jisung to hear. He wanted to make sure that Jisung felt comfortable, and that meant being more mindful about how they interacted.
The next time Minho saw Jisung was in the student café. It was a busy afternoon, with students coming in and out, the hum of conversation filling the air, but Minho noticed Jisung sitting alone at a corner table, his hearing aids in. Normally, Minho might have just waved or said hello in passing, but he’d learned that wouldn’t be enough with Jisung.
Instead, he walked over and lightly tapped Jisung’s shoulder, making sure he was standing in front of him when he spoke. “Hey, mind if I sit?”
Jisung looked up, adjusting his hearing aid and offering a small smile. “Sure,” he replied, his voice quieter than the chatter around them, but clear enough for Minho to catch.
Minho took the seat across from him, angling himself so Jisung could easily read his lips if necessary. He didn’t say anything right away, just let the comfortable silence hang between them as he glanced around the room. The café was too loud for a normal conversation, Minho realized, and he noticed Jisung looking a bit tense.
“Do you want to go somewhere quieter?” Minho suggested. He gestured towards the door, away from the noisy students bustling around.
Jisung seemed relieved, nodding quickly. “Yeah, that’d be better. It’s too loud in here.”
They left the café and made their way to a quieter corner of the campus courtyard. The soft rustling of leaves and distant sounds of students chatting were much more manageable. As they sat on a bench, Minho noticed how much more relaxed Jisung seemed.
“Thanks,” Jisung said after a moment, meeting Minho’s eyes. “It’s hard to focus when there’s too much background noise.”
“No problem,” Minho replied, giving him an easy smile. “I figured it might be better out here.”
They sat together for a bit, and soon, their conversations became more regular. Minho found himself seeking out quieter spots on campus—places where he knew Jisung would be able to hear him better. He made sure to always face Jisung when talking, giving him the opportunity to read his lips if the noise became too much. It was a small change in Minho’s routine, but it felt natural. The more time they spent together, the more Minho wanted to make Jisung feel comfortable, and he could tell that Jisung appreciated the effort.
---
The sun rose slowly over the basketball court as Minho and Jisung stood side by side. Minho grinned, holding out the basketball. “Alright, Jisung, let’s start with dribbling. Just keep the ball close and use your fingertips.”
Jisung awkwardly dribbled, the ball bouncing erratically. Minho chuckled, encouragingly patting Jisung on the back. “Not bad for a start. Keep practicing!”
Minho demonstrated a flawless shot, and Jisung tried to replicate it. His shot missed the hoop entirely, landing in a bush. Minho laughed and retrieved the ball, teasing, “Looks like we need more practice.”
Despite his lack of skill, Jisung enjoyed the playful session. Minho’s patience and the fun they had made the experience enjoyable. They played little games, like shooting blindfolded and racing for the ball, with Jisung’s awkward attempts bringing laughter.
Minho guided Jisung through a basic layup, but Jisung’s attempt was more of a stumble, with the ball bouncing off the rim. Minho’s grin remained. “Close, but you’ll get it with practice.”
As they sat on the bleachers, cooling down, Minho handed Jisung a water bottle. “You might not be a basketball star, but you’re great at other things,” he said sincerely.
Jisung smiled back. “Thanks, Minho. I really appreciate you teaching me. It’s been a lot of fun.”
Minho leaned back, his eyes reflecting the sunset. “It’s been a blast. Maybe next time, we’ll teach you some dance moves. I bet you’ve got rhythm.”
Jisung laughed, their bond growing stronger with each moment. “We’ll see about that. For now, I’m just happy to be here with you.”
As the day ended and they headed to the parking lot, their connection had deepened, and they looked forward to more time together, their smiles reflecting the shared joy of the day.
That afternoon, after class, they found themselves in one of the campus study rooms. The atmosphere was calm, and Jisung seemed to be in a good mood. As they talked, the conversation drifted towards Jisung’s hearing condition—a topic that, until now, had only been touched upon briefly.
“You mentioned your hearing aids before,” Minho started, watching Jisung’s expression carefully. “I’ve been wondering… if you don’t mind me asking, what’s it like? I mean, I don’t know much about it.”
Jisung was quiet for a moment, as if he was deciding how much he wanted to share. Eventually, he nodded. “It’s not really a big secret,” he said. “I have Ménière's disease. It’s genetic.”
Minho frowned, the name sounding vaguely familiar but not enough for him to fully understand. “What does that mean?”
Jisung took a deep breath, leaning back in his chair. “Basically, it affects my inner ear. I’ve had sensorineural hearing loss since I was a kid, and it’s gotten worse over time. I still have some hearing left, but it’s not great. I rely on my hearing aids, but they’re not perfect, especially when there’s a lot of noise around.”
Minho nodded, listening carefully as Jisung explained. “So, it’s progressive?” he asked softly.
“Yeah,” Jisung replied, his voice steady but tinged with a hint of frustration. “It’s been getting worse since I was younger. When I was a kid, I could hear a lot better. Now, some days are worse than others. I get dizzy spells, too, which is annoying. The hearing loss has been harder to deal with as I’ve gotten older. There are days when it feels like everything’s muffled or… or like I’m underwater.”
Minho’s heart sank a little at Jisung’s words. It was hard to imagine what that must feel like, to go through life with sound fading away more and more over time. “That sounds tough,” he said softly.
Jisung shrugged, though there was a heaviness in his eyes. “It is, sometimes. But I’ve gotten used to it. I’ve learned to adapt, I guess. I’ve always had to.” He gave a small, humorless chuckle. “I can’t do things like go to concerts or loud parties without feeling overwhelmed. I think that’s why I stay away from big crowds or noisy places. It’s too much.”
Minho nodded, understanding more clearly now why Jisung had always seemed so distant or quiet around others. It wasn’t that he was trying to avoid people—he just couldn’t handle the overwhelming noise.
“What about music?” Minho asked, remembering the notebook Jisung often carried with him. “You’re always writing lyrics, right? Does that help?”
Jisung’s expression softened, and a faint smile appeared on his lips. “Yeah, actually. Music has always been a big part of my life, even with the hearing loss. I can still feel the vibrations, the rhythm. I guess that’s why I write lyrics. It’s one way I can still connect with it.”
Minho smiled, feeling a new sense of admiration for Jisung. “That’s amazing. I didn’t know you were so into music.”
Jisung shrugged again, though this time his smile lingered. “It’s kind of my thing. It helps me… deal with everything.”
As the conversation continued, Minho felt the distance between them shrinking. He realized that Jisung had been carrying this burden for a long time, adapting to a world that wasn’t built for someone with his condition. The more Jisung revealed about his life with Ménière's disease, the more Minho found himself respecting him—not just for how he handled his hearing loss, but for his quiet resilience.
And as they spent more time together, Minho made sure that every interaction was thoughtful. He paid closer attention to the spaces they were in, always choosing quieter spots for their conversations. He faced Jisung when he spoke, slowing down his words when necessary, giving Jisung the time to fully process everything.
With each passing day, they grew closer. And slowly but surely, Minho’s concern shifted from simply trying to understand Jisung’s hearing loss to genuinely wanting to understand Jisung —the person behind the quiet exterior, the one who wrote music, laughed easily when he felt comfortable, and had a world of experiences to share.
Minho had always been the type of person to give his all in everything he did, whether it was basketball, school, or even friendships. So, when it came to Jisung, it was no different. Over time, he had grown used to their little habits—finding quieter places to talk, making sure to face Jisung directly so he could read his lips, and learning the subtle signs that Jisung’s hearing aids were becoming too much for him in noisy environments. But Minho felt like he could do more.
It started one evening when Minho was scrolling through his phone after practice. He had been thinking about Jisung a lot lately, about how much they had bonded, and how Jisung had shared his struggles with Ménière’s disease. The memory of Jisung telling him that his hearing aids made him overly sensitive to sound in certain situations lingered in Minho’s mind. Jisung didn’t like wearing them all the time, which made sense, but it also meant that communication could be a challenge when they were in louder places.
That’s when Minho came across an article about sign language. He stared at the screen, his mind already racing with ideas. If Jisung sometimes preferred not to wear his hearing aids, maybe Minho could help in a different way. Maybe he could learn to communicate without relying on sound.
Without overthinking it, Minho downloaded an app that taught the basics of Korean Sign Language (KSL). It wasn’t something he’d ever considered before, but it felt like the right thing to do. It would be another way to make Jisung’s life just a little bit easier.
At first, the process was slow. Between classes, basketball practice, and hanging out with friends, Minho found it hard to dedicate long periods of time to learning. But whenever he had a spare moment—whether it was during lunch or late at night before bed—he practiced the basics. Simple phrases like “ hello ,” “ thank you ,” and “ how are you? ” slowly became second nature.
There were days when Minho questioned whether it was even worth it. He didn’t know if Jisung used sign language often, or if he would even be interested in teaching Minho. But then he remembered how Jisung had talked about feeling overwhelmed by the constant noise and the strain of always trying to listen with his hearing aids. The thought pushed Minho forward.
Weeks passed, and Minho’s skills grew. He hadn’t told Jisung what he was up to, mostly because he didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. It wasn’t about earning points or trying to impress Jisung. Minho just wanted to be able to communicate with him in a way that made him feel more comfortable.
One day, after practice, Minho and Jisung were hanging out at their usual spot on campus—a quiet garden tucked away from the main pathways. It had become their go-to place to relax and talk without the distraction of loud noises or crowds. Jisung was leaning against a tree, eyes closed, enjoying the peace of the moment, while Minho was sitting next to him on the grass.
Jisung had his hearing aids out, a sign that he was tired from the day. Minho noticed that he was rubbing his temples, a clear indication that the sounds from earlier had been too much.
“Rough day?” Minho asked, his voice soft.
Jisung opened his eyes and looked over at him, giving a small nod. “Yeah, just one of those days. My ears were acting up again.”
Minho hesitated for a moment, then made his decision. He lifted his hands and signed, Do you want to talk?
Jisung blinked, his eyes widening in surprise. He stared at Minho’s hands, then back at his face, clearly taken aback. “ Did you… just sign that? ”
Minho smiled, a little sheepish. “Yeah. I’ve been learning. I figured… you might not want to have to listen all the time. And I thought this might help.”
Jisung’s expression softened, his eyes reflecting a mixture of shock and appreciation. He didn’t say anything for a moment, just stared at Minho like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. Then, he laughed, the sound light and warm. “You learned sign language? For me?”
Minho shrugged, trying to play it cool, even though his heart was racing in his chest. “I just thought it could make things easier for you. I know you don’t always like wearing your hearing aids, and I didn’t want to make things harder.”
Jisung’s smile grew, and for the first time in a while, Minho saw a genuine sense of joy in his eyes. “That’s… that’s really thoughtful, Minho. I don’t even know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” Minho replied, still signing as he spoke. “I just wanted to help.”
Jisung shook his head, clearly still in disbelief. “You really went all out, didn’t you? Learning sign language on top of everything else.”
Minho grinned. “Well, you’re worth it.”
Jisung’s cheeks flushed a little at the comment, and he ducked his head, laughing softly. “I didn’t even know you knew how to be this sweet.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me yet,” Minho teased, nudging him lightly with his shoulder.
Jisung looked up at him, his expression softening even more. “Thank you,” he said, this time without any embarrassment or hesitation. “It means a lot. Really. Most people don’t go out of their way like that for me.”
Minho felt a warmth spread through his chest at Jisung’s words. It wasn’t just about learning sign language anymore—it was about the connection they were building, one step at a time. Jisung had always been quiet and reserved, but the more Minho got to know him, the more he realized how much strength and resilience Jisung carried with him. And now, seeing how much his small effort meant to him, Minho was glad he had taken the time to learn.
As they sat together in the quiet garden, Jisung began teaching Minho a few more signs, correcting his form and showing him new phrases. The roles had reversed a little, with Jisung becoming the teacher, and Minho eagerly soaking up every wordless lesson. It was a different kind of communication, one that didn’t rely on words but still said everything that needed to be said.
For the first time, Minho felt like he truly understood how much this gesture meant to Jisung. It wasn’t just about making things easier—it was about showing him that he mattered, that his world was just as important, and that Minho was willing to step into it, no matter how unfamiliar it was.
Minho had always been comfortable around Jisung. From the start, their friendship was built on quiet moments—those soft, peaceful times where they could just be themselves, whether it was sitting in the garden on campus or studying together in the library. But lately, something had changed. The more time Minho spent with Jisung, the more he noticed little things that made his heart beat faster. The way Jisung’s lips curved into a soft smile when he looked at him. The way his eyes lit up when he got excited about something, even when he wasn’t wearing his hearing aids.
It started with the small, seemingly insignificant moments.
One afternoon, Jisung was fiddling with his hearing aids, his face scrunched up in frustration. The noise from the campus lawn had gotten overwhelming—loud conversations, the sound of passing cars, and the distant chatter of students hanging out. Minho noticed the way Jisung winced slightly, his body tensing as he adjusted the volume on his hearing aids.
"Here, let me help," Minho offered softly, sitting beside him.
Jisung hesitated for a second, but then handed over the hearing aid. Minho had learned a lot over the past few months about how they worked—how to adjust them, how to clean them, and how to make sure the volume was at a comfortable level. He gently adjusted the settings, careful not to be too rough as he placed the hearing aid back in Jisung’s ear.
“Better?” Minho asked, his voice gentle, always mindful of speaking clearly.
Jisung blinked, then nodded, smiling softly. “Yeah, much better. Thanks.”
In that moment, as Minho’s fingers lingered near Jisung’s ear, a strange warmth bloomed in his chest. It was just a small act—helping Jisung with his hearing aids—but the way Jisung had looked at him, the trust in his eyes, made Minho’s heart race a little faster.
Their friendship deepened in quiet ways. Jisung started coming to Minho’s basketball games, something that initially surprised Minho. The loud noise of the gym, the echoing cheers, and the blaring whistle were all things that Minho knew could be overwhelming for Jisung. And yet, Jisung showed up. Every time. He’d sit near the back of the bleachers, where the noise was slightly more bearable, and cheer for Minho.
Minho noticed that Jisung often took his hearing aids out when the noise became too much. He’d sit there, quietly watching the game, still smiling, still showing support even when he couldn’t hear a thing. And every time Minho made a good shot or scored a point, he’d glance up and see Jisung watching him, a soft grin on his face, his lips moving as he silently cheered.
It was during those games that Minho started seeing Jisung in a new light. He wasn’t just the quiet guy with hearing loss who kept to himself. Jisung was so much more than that. He was resilient, kind, and thoughtful in ways that made Minho’s heart ache. Jisung never complained about the noise or the crowds; he simply found his own way to be there, for Minho, despite how hard it must’ve been.
One evening, after a particularly intense game, Minho spotted Jisung waiting for him outside the gym. It was late, and most of the crowd had already gone home. Jisung was leaning against a tree, his hearing aids nowhere in sight, but he smiled brightly when he saw Minho approaching.
"Hey, you were amazing out there," Jisung said, his voice soft.
Minho felt a flush of pride at the compliment, but his focus was entirely on Jisung. "You stayed the whole game. Was it too loud for you?"
Jisung shook his head, his smile unwavering. "Yeah, it got loud, but I took my hearing aids out. It’s not so bad when I don’t have to listen to it. Besides, I like watching you play. You’re really good."
Minho’s heart fluttered at Jisung’s words. It was such a simple compliment, but coming from Jisung, it felt different. More meaningful. He stared at Jisung for a moment, noticing the way the dim streetlights cast a soft glow over his features, making his eyes seem warmer, his smile even gentler.
“Thanks for coming,” Minho said, his voice a little quieter, more sincere than usual. “It means a lot to me.”
Jisung shrugged, brushing it off like it wasn’t a big deal, but Minho could tell. It was a big deal. Jisung didn’t go out of his way for just anyone, and the fact that he kept showing up, kept making the effort to be there, wasn’t lost on Minho.
As time passed, more moments like these happened. Minho found himself growing more mindful, always making sure to be in quieter places when they hung out, so Jisung wouldn’t be overwhelmed. He made sure to speak slowly and clearly, or sign when Jisung’s hearing aids were out. And every time he did, Jisung’s face would light up with a look of gratitude that tugged at Minho’s heartstrings.
Jisung, in turn, revealed more about himself—about his struggle with Ménière's disease, how it had affected him since he was a kid, and how hard it had been for him to keep up with school, friends, and life in general. Jisung opened up about the good days and the bad, the moments when his hearing felt stable, and the times when the world around him was just too overwhelming.
Minho listened to every word, appreciating Jisung’s resilience even more. But beyond that, Minho started seeing Jisung not as someone defined by his condition, but as someone who lived despite it. Jisung was funny, smart, and caring. He had this quiet strength that Minho couldn’t help but admire.
One afternoon, Minho and Jisung were sitting in their usual spot at the campus garden, the sun low in the sky and casting a golden hue over everything. It had become something of a routine for them—to meet there after classes, escape the noise and chaos of campus life, and just enjoy each other’s company in the peace and quiet.
Jisung leaned back against the bench, staring up at the sky, his hands folded in his lap. Minho noticed that his usually animated expression seemed off. There was a slight tension in the way Jisung held himself, his body unusually still, as if he was focusing on keeping everything together.
“You okay?” Minho asked, leaning in a little, concerned.
Jisung blinked a few times, then nodded, though it was clear something was wrong. “Yeah... just a little off balance,” he murmured, his voice faint, almost as if he was trying to hide his discomfort.
Minho’s eyes narrowed, and he instinctively reached out, placing a hand on Jisung’s arm. He knew by now that “a little off balance” was often Jisung’s way of downplaying a dizzy spell. His Ménière's disease had these unpredictable moments where the world would start spinning around him, making it hard for him to focus, hard for him to even stand.
As the seconds ticked by, Minho could see Jisung’s breathing become more shallow. His lips parted slightly, and his face turned a shade paler.
“Jisung,” Minho said softly, “are you sure you’re okay? You look like—”
“I’m... I’m fine,” Jisung interrupted, his voice trembling, but it was clear he wasn’t. He closed his eyes tightly, his grip on the edge of the bench tightening. “Just... dizzy. It'll pass.”
Minho wasn’t convinced. He watched Jisung for another second, then gently shifted closer, lowering his voice even more. “Hey, lean on me, okay? You don’t have to hold it together by yourself.”
Jisung didn’t protest this time. He let out a shaky breath and leaned his head onto Minho’s shoulder, his fingers trembling slightly as they loosened their grip on the bench. Minho wrapped an arm around him, holding him steady as he felt Jisung’s body start to relax, even though the dizziness still gripped him.
“I hate this,” Jisung whispered, his voice tinged with frustration. “The spinning. The nausea. I never know when it’s going to hit.”
Minho’s heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. “I know,” he murmured, his tone gentle. “But I’m here, okay? You don’t have to go through it alone.”
Jisung didn’t respond right away, but his breathing slowed as he seemed to find some comfort in Minho’s presence. After a few moments, though, Minho felt Jisung tense again.
“Minho... I think I’m gonna be sick,” Jisung muttered, his voice laced with panic. His eyes fluttered open, and he pressed a hand to his mouth.
Without a second thought, Minho quickly stood, helping Jisung to his feet and guiding him toward a more secluded part of the garden. Jisung’s steps were unsteady, and Minho kept a firm hold on him, making sure he didn’t stumble.
Once they reached the edge of the bushes, Jisung crouched down, and Minho stood by him, rubbing gentle circles on his back, keeping him upright as the wave of nausea took over. The whole time, Minho stayed silent, offering nothing but his support.
Eventually, Jisung wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his face pale and his body weak. He slowly stood up, his legs trembling beneath him, but Minho was there, steadying him with both hands.
“Let’s sit down again, okay?” Minho suggested softly.
Jisung nodded, too exhausted to argue, and allowed Minho to guide him back to the bench. Once they were seated, Minho handed him a water bottle from his bag.
“Here,” Minho said, holding it out. “Drink some.”
Jisung took a few small sips, his eyes fluttering closed as he leaned back against the bench. “Thanks,” he whispered.
Minho nodded, his heart tightening as he watched Jisung’s weary expression. He hated seeing Jisung like this—helpless and frustrated. But more than that, he hated the thought of Jisung dealing with this on his own, suffering in silence because he didn’t want to be a burden.
Jisung let out a shaky breath, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry... I didn’t mean for you to see all that.”
“Don’t apologize,” Minho replied immediately, shaking his head. “You don’t have to apologize for something you can’t control, Jisung.”
Jisung opened his eyes, his gaze locking with Minho’s, and for a moment, the vulnerability in his eyes was so raw that Minho felt his chest tighten. “I just hate it,” Jisung continued, his voice cracking slightly. “I hate how unpredictable it is. One minute I’m fine, and the next... I’m like this. It’s embarrassing.”
“It’s not embarrassing,” Minho said softly, his voice firm but gentle. “You’re dealing with something that most people can’t even begin to understand. And you handle it with so much strength, Jisung. It’s not embarrassing. It’s brave.”
Jisung looked down at his hands, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something, but the words didn’t come. Minho gave him a moment to process, not pushing him to speak.
After a few long seconds, Jisung lifted his gaze again, his eyes softer. “I don’t know why you’re so nice to me,” he murmured. “I mean... this isn’t exactly how most people would want to spend their day.”
Minho smiled softly, shaking his head. “Because it’s you, Jisung. And I want to be there for you—through all of it. The good days, the bad days, and everything in between.”
Jisung’s eyes widened slightly, his breath catching in his throat. There was a vulnerability in his expression that made Minho’s heart swell. For a moment, neither of them said anything, but the air between them felt charged with something unspoken.
In that quiet moment, Minho realized just how much he cared for Jisung. It wasn’t just friendship anymore. It was something deeper, something more meaningful. He wasn’t just drawn to Jisung because of their shared moments or the way he admired Jisung’s resilience. It was because of the way Jisung made him feel—like he wanted to be a better person, someone worthy of the trust and admiration Jisung had in him.
And in that realization, Minho knew he couldn’t keep pretending it was just friendship any longer.
The final basketball game of the season was electric with energy, the gymnasium reverberating with cheers and applause as Minho’s team secured a decisive victory. The crowd’s excitement was palpable, but Minho’s thoughts were solely focused on a quieter corner of the bleachers where Jisung sat, his calm demeanor contrasting sharply with the fervor around him.
As the game ended and the gym began to clear out, Minho’s teammates celebrated their win, but Minho’s mind was elsewhere. He had been preparing for this moment, rehearsing his words and perfecting his gestures. Tonight, he wanted to express something he had been feeling for a long time.
Minho finally spotted Jisung in the crowd, and his heart quickened. He made his way over, ensuring he had Jisung’s attention before speaking. Jisung was adjusting his hearing aids, and Minho took a deep breath, ready to convey his feelings in the clearest way possible.
“Jisung!” Minho called out, making sure his voice was loud enough to catch Jisung’s attention. Jisung turned, his eyes meeting Minho’s with curiosity. Minho took a moment to calm his racing heart before he began signing. His hands moved deliberately through the motions he had practiced, each sign crafted with care.
“ Jisung, I have feelings for you ,” Minho signed, his expression earnest. “I’ve grown close to you, and I’ve realized that I care about you deeply. I want us to be more than friends.”
Jisung’s eyes widened slightly, and he looked puzzled, tilting his head as if trying to decipher Minho’s message. “Are you sure you’re not... saying something else? Maybe I misunderstood.”
Minho’s heart sank as he saw Jisung’s confusion. He hadn’t anticipated this reaction and felt a pang of fear that his message wasn’t clear. He stepped closer, trying to convey his sincerity with renewed determination. “No, Jisung, I meant exactly what I signed. I like you, and I want to be with you. I’ve been feeling this way for a while now.”
As Minho’s words sank in, Jisung’s expression softened. A shy, hesitant smile began to spread across his face. “I didn’t think you felt that way about me. I’ve been feeling the same, but I didn’t want to assume.”
Minho’s heart leapt with relief and happiness. “I’m so glad to know that. I’ve been waiting for the right moment to tell you. I wanted to make sure you knew how much you mean to me.”
Minho’s eyes were filled with hope as he leaned in, signing one last time with careful, deliberate movements, “Can I kiss you?”
Jisung’s cheeks flushed a deep red, his eyes wide with a mixture of shyness and excitement. He nodded, his heart racing. Minho moved in slowly, his gaze locked with Jisung’s, making sure he was comfortable with each step. When their lips finally met, the world around them seemed to fade away.
The kiss was tender at first, a gentle exploration of feelings that had been bottled up for so long. Minho’s lips brushed against Jisung’s with a softness that spoke volumes, his touch both reassuring and full of longing. Jisung responded with equal tenderness, his lips parting slightly to deepen the connection.
Minho’s hands cradled Jisung’s face, his thumbs gently caressing Jisung’s cheeks as the kiss grew more passionate. Jisung’s hands slid up Minho’s arms, pulling him closer. The kiss became a dance of emotions, a melding of affection and desire that they had both yearned for.
As they finally pulled away, their breaths mingling and their foreheads resting against each other, the intensity of their feelings was evident in their flushed faces and sparkling eyes. Minho’s friends, who had been watching from a distance, approached with supportive smiles and congratulatory pats on the back. Chan, Changbin, and the rest of the team were thrilled to see Minho’s happiness and Jisung’s shy but content smile.
Chan stepped forward with a grin. “Alright, you two, it’s time to celebrate. We’ve picked a place that’s perfect. It’s quieter and more relaxed, so we can all enjoy ourselves.”
Jisung looked up at Minho, his eyes glowing with joy. “That sounds wonderful. I’d love to go.”
The group made their way to the restaurant, a cozy spot that was both welcoming and accommodating. As they settled in, Minho and Jisung sat close together, their hands intertwined, savoring the comfort of being with each other in such a supportive environment. The evening was filled with laughter, good food, and the warm glow of newfound love.
As they left the restaurant later that night, Minho wrapped his arm around Jisung, feeling a profound sense of contentment. They walked together, their hearts light and their future bright, ready to face whatever came next with the strength of their bond.