Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The lights bathed the stadium in gold.

ENHYPEN stood at the center of it all, backs to the ocean of screaming fans, sweat glistening under spotlights. Every second of this performance—the last one of their world tour—was meant to be unforgettable.

And it would be.

“It's you and me in this world—” Sunoo sang, his voice effortlessly flowing, velvet against the pounding beat of "Bite Me." His eyes glimmered under his smoky makeup, smile wide as he danced past Heeseung and Ni-ki, who were perfectly in sync beside him.

From above, streamers flew.

From the shadows, something darker did too.

In the chaos of lights and sound, a single crack rang out—too sharp, too sudden to be pyrotechnics.

It tore the air.

Then it tore Sunoo.

His body jerked. Not a dance move. Not this time.
His expression twisted for just a split second—eyes wide, confused, before crumpling into agony.

“Sunoo?” Jungwon’s voice was nearly lost in the music, but he had seen it. Seen the red spread across Sunoo’s pale costume.

The music kept playing. The crowd kept cheering.

Sunoo fell to his knees.

The shot had been quiet, like a pop from a champagne bottle. But the silence that followed from the members was deafening.

Sunghoon reached him first, dropping to his knees beside his best friend, arms trembling as he caught him just before he collapsed fully.

“Sunny—Sunoo! Hey! You’re bleeding!” Sunghoon’s voice cracked.

Blood. So much of it. His pristine white stage outfit was quickly soaking red on the left side—his ribs, his hip? It was hard to tell.

Jake ripped off his earpiece and yelled offstage. “CALL THE MEDICS! NOW!”

Ni-ki stood frozen, stunned into stillness he had never known before. The boy who was never afraid on stage was now shaking.

Security was flooding in, storming through the crowd. The members were screaming now, the stage no longer sacred, but battlefield.

Sunoo coughed. “Is this... part of the show?” he whispered, eyes glassy.

Heeseung gripped his hand. “No. No, baby, you’re gonna be okay. Stay with us.”

And as the screaming of ENGENEs turned from joy to terror, as the stage lights flickered chaotically, and as blood dripped onto the set where Sunoo once danced—

The show stopped.

But the story had just begun.

---

1 Month Before The Attack

The rehearsal room was buzzing.

The floor pulsed with bass as the speakers blared the beat of "Bite Me", again and again. Every movement was scrutinized, refined, perfected. Sweat dripped down the backs of shirts and soaked through tank tops as the boys pushed through their sixth full run-through of the day.

“Sunoo, try that body sway again—but more fluid,” the choreographer called out, clapping his hands twice. “Everyone, reset!”

Sunoo smiled through the ache in his ribs. “Got it!”

He did the sway again—this time smoother—and landed right where he should have, next to Jungwon.

Jungwon nudged him subtly. “You okay? You’re limping a bit.”

“Pfft, I’m fine,” Sunoo lied, smiling. “I’ll just steal one of Jake’s energy drinks later.”

Jake, from across the room, shot him a look. “The watermelon one is mine. I will fight you.”

Ni-ki snorted. “Sunoo’ll win. He’s unhinged when he’s tired.”

That made Sunoo giggle. It was the kind of laugh that filled the air like perfume—light, fleeting, but strong enough to change the atmosphere.

Still, when he turned to grab his water bottle, his smile faded a bit.

His phone was lighting up again.

36 new notifications.

A few were from the fan community app, Weverse. Some were sweet, supportive messages. But scattered in between—

> Why do you act like you’re the center of the group?
> You’re so fake. They’ll see eventually.
> You don’t deserve this. Not with that attitude.
> I'll be there. You’ll notice me this time.

Sunoo stared at the last one longer than he meant to.

He locked the screen.

---

That night, the dorm was quiet. Too quiet.

Sunoo sat at the kitchen table long after the others had gone to bed, his phone untouched beside a barely-eaten bowl of instant noodles. Heeseung walked in, rubbing his eyes, hoodie pulled over his head.

“You’re up late.”

Sunoo blinked. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Heeseung sat across from him. “Wanna talk about it?”

“No, it’s nothing serious.”
A pause.
“But… do you think I come off weird? Like—too confident? Too much?”

Heeseung’s brows knit together. “What are you talking about? You're the glue, Sunoo. You're the one who brings balance when we’re falling apart.”

Sunoo swallowed. His eyes shimmered slightly in the low light.

“Just feels like some people don’t… see me that way.”

Heeseung reached across the table and covered Sunoo’s hand with his. “Some people only want to see the parts of you they can hate. Don’t let them win.”

In a private Twitter DM group, a message popped up from an account with no profile photo:

> 1 month. Seoul Dome. Section B2. He won’t smile so fake when it’s real.**

No one responded.

But the message stayed. Waiting.

---

The next morning, Sunoo woke up to his usual alarm — a soft chime he’d picked to keep mornings gentle. But something in his chest already felt tight.

His phone screen glowed.

17 new comments. 6 DMs.
The same user from before had messaged again:

> Smile for me again. The others don’t see it yet. But I do.
> You were made to be watched.

Sunoo deleted the messages. Again.
Blocked the user. Again.

But the pit in his stomach remained.

Downstairs, the dorm smelled like toast and scrambled eggs. Jake and Ni-ki were already in the kitchen, bickering over whether putting ketchup on eggs was a crime against humanity.

“Morning, angel,” Jake greeted when he saw Sunoo walk in, mid-mouthful. “You look like you fought a ghost in your sleep.”

“Lost to it, actually,” Sunoo mumbled, slipping into the seat beside Ni-ki.

Ni-ki squinted. “Are you okay? Your eyes are puffy.”

Sunoo shrugged, forcing a smile. “Allergies. I’m fine, seriously.”

He wasn’t.

Because when they got to rehearsal and started going over formation tweaks for “Sacrifice,” he felt it again—that sensation.

Like someone was watching him.

Not just the usual eyes of their team. No, this was different. It felt wrong.

He scanned the mirrors behind the choreographers, the staff seated by the wall, even the cameramen recording content for EN-O’CLOCK. Everyone was familiar… mostly.

Except someone in the back row.
Black hoodie. Mask. Eyes too focused. Not filming. Not taking notes. Just… staring.

Sunoo blinked. When he looked again, they were gone.

-

Later, during break, he sat with Jay in the corner, sharing a banana smoothie.

“You look haunted,” Jay said bluntly.

“I feel haunted,” Sunoo replied.

Jay leaned in slightly, voice dropping. “Talk to me.”

Sunoo hesitated. “I think someone’s following me.”

Jay froze for a second. “Like… sasaeng level?”

“I don’t know. I keep getting weird messages. Today at practice, I—I swear I saw someone just standing there, watching me. I turned, and they were gone.”

Jay’s hand tightened around his cup. “Have you told the manager?”

Sunoo shook his head. “It’s probably nothing. I just didn’t sleep well. Maybe I’m paranoid.”

Jay stared at him. “Even if it is nothing, you don’t get to carry it alone.”

That night, Jay quietly told Jungwon.

And Jungwon quietly told their security coordinator.

Just in case.

---

Back in the sasaeng group chat, new photos were uploaded.

Photos of Sunoo. Taken that day.
At practice.
In the parking lot.
Through a studio window.

A message followed.

> He belongs to me. And if I can’t have him, no one will.

---
To Be Continued...

Chapter Text

The week blurred together like footage played at double speed—practices, interviews, outfit fittings, and meetings. ENHYPEN moved like a well-oiled machine, but underneath the shine, things were starting to crack.

Sunoo was smiling less.

He still made jokes. Still laughed when Ni-ki tackled Jake mid-choreo, or when Heeseung snuck banana milk into Jungwon’s gym bag. But his eyes? They didn’t light up like before.

Because every time he turned a corner, he felt it.
The stare.

---

It was Friday when things really shifted.

During a rehearsal break, Sunoo snuck out of the studio to get air. The hallway outside was quiet—too quiet. No footsteps. No staff voices. Just the hum of the overhead lights and his own shallow breathing.

He leaned against the wall, phone in hand, debating whether to check his messages.

He didn’t get the chance.

Because taped to the door across the hall—an emergency exit rarely used—was a folded piece of paper. Just sitting there.

Curious, or maybe stupid, he walked over and peeled it off.

His blood ran cold.

Inside was a blurry photo of himself leaving the dorm yesterday. Same clothes. Same shoes. And underneath, scrawled in red ink:

> “You belong to me now.”

Sunoo didn’t go back to the practice room.

He went straight to Jungwon.

The leader listened silently, expression unreadable, while Sunoo shakily handed him the note. His hands wouldn’t stop trembling.

Jungwon cursed under his breath. “That’s it. I’m telling management.”

“I didn’t want to make a scene,” Sunoo whispered. “I didn’t think they’d—”

“This isn’t nothing,” Jungwon said firmly. “This is stalking. And it’s escalating.”

Sunoo nodded. The fear was thick in his throat. “I thought I was going crazy.”

“You’re not. You’re not alone, either.”

---

Management took it seriously. Security was doubled. The company filed a report. The door cameras were checked—nothing yet.

But the damage had already been done.

That night in the dorm, Sunoo didn’t sleep in his room.

He crashed on the couch with Sunghoon curled on one side and Ni-ki draped across his legs like a weighted blanket. Jake was on the floor next to them, arms folded behind his head, humming a quiet song to fill the silence.

Jay watched from the hallway, arms crossed, protective fire in his eyes.

“I don’t care what they say,” he muttered to Heeseung beside him. “If I ever see that freak near him—I’m not asking questions. I’m swinging first.”

Heeseung nodded, jaw clenched. “Same.”

But the next day, during soundcheck for a pre-tour performance, another note was found.

This time it was in the dressing room.

Sunghoon was the one who found the note.

It was on Sunoo’s vanity table, taped to the mirror with surgical precision—like it belonged there, like it had always been there. The rose next to it was blood-red and fresh, dew still clinging to its petals like tears.

“Huh?” Sunghoon frowned and picked up the paper. “Hey—Sunoo, did you leave—”

But Sunoo had already seen it.

He crossed the room in two strides and snatched the note from Sunghoon’s hand before he could finish reading.

Sunghoon blinked, startled. “Dude—”

“It’s nothing,” Sunoo said quickly, folding the paper in half, then again, then again until it nearly disappeared in his palm. “It’s just from a staff. They probably put it there during the photo op.”

Sunghoon didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure? We have security—”

“I said it’s nothing,” Sunoo repeated, forcing a small smile. “Really.”

He turned and tucked the note deep into his makeup bag, burying it beneath powder and lashes like it was just another accessory.

But it wasn’t.

Because he’d read it clearly, in that same messy handwriting as the first:

> Three weeks left, sweetheart.
> I already have the perfect outfit picked for the show.

---

That night, while the dorm buzzed with laughter over takeout and game shows, Sunoo lay in bed, eyes wide open, watching the shadows move across the ceiling.

The others were only feet away, safe in their shared spaces, joking and teasing like everything was normal. Like no clock was ticking.

Sunoo’s fingers hovered over his phone, tempted to forward the photo of the note to Jungwon or Jay or literally anyone. He could practically hear Jay's voice already: “Why the hell didn’t you tell us?”

But he didn’t press send.

Because something in him felt… guilty.

Guilty for being the weak link. Guilty for making them worry. Guilty for bringing danger into a group that had always felt like home.

So he turned off his phone.

And buried the note inside his journal, tucked between two pages no one would ever read.

---

Outside, in the stillness of the Seoul night, a figure stood across from the dorm building. Blending in with the crowd, but still.

Watching.

Waiting.

Smiling.

---

— 20 days until the concert —

The dorm smelled like pancakes and burning toast.

It was a rare thing, a day off. No practice, no schedules, no stylists tugging at their hair or cameras in their faces. Just eight feet padding around the apartment in oversized socks and fluffy pajama pants.

Sunoo had always loved days like this.

But today, the warmth felt thin—like a blanket that didn’t cover his whole body.

Still, he smiled when Jake shoved a plate toward him, stacked too high with uneven pancakes.

“Breakfast is served, your majesty,” Jake announced proudly.

“Are these… chocolate chip *and* kimchi?” Sunghoon asked, inspecting the stack like it was a crime scene.

Jake grinned. “Experimental.”

Sunoo snorted despite himself, leaning his cheek against his hand. “I’m terrified and curious.”

“Perfect,” Jake said. “Just like you.”

Ni-ki groaned from the couch. “Can someone please stop flirting at the breakfast table?”

“I’m not flirting,” Jake said.

“Jake,” Heeseung called from the hallway. “You’re wearing his slippers.”

Jake looked down. Sure enough—baby pink slippers, embroidered with little hearts and a tiny “☀️” symbol.

“Oh. Huh. Guess I am.”

Ni-ki threw a pillow at him.

---

The boys spent most of the morning lounging. Sunoo tried to relax, to soak it in: the sunlight, the laughter, the sound of Heeseung humming off-key in the kitchen, Ni-ki yelling over a video game, Jungwon trying to reason with Jay over who had more dishes this week.

It was normal. Comforting.

Safe.

But the note still burned in his pocket.

Every time someone glanced his way, he felt it. The weight of the secret he hadn’t shared. The echo of the words: *three weeks left*.

What did that mean? What outfit? What plan?

And why—why him?

---

Later, he found himself curled up on the balcony outside the boys’ shared room, knees tucked to his chest, sweater sleeves pulled over his hands. The city buzzed softly below, a distant hum of life that felt too fast, too big. (Just pretend they have a balcony for my sake, I might go insane. Heh...)

Sunoo didn’t hear the door slide open.

But he felt when someone sat beside him.

“Did you eat?” It was Jungwon. Soft-spoken but sturdy. The leader voice he used only when something was wrong.

Sunoo nodded. “Yeah. Jake force-fed me syrup and chaos.”

Jungwon chuckled. Then, silence. Not awkward—just thoughtful.

“Something’s been off with you,” he said finally. “Since before practice. Since last week, even.”

Sunoo tensed.

“You can tell me to back off,” Jungwon continued, “but I just want you to know… you don’t have to carry stuff by yourself.”

Sunoo hesitated. It seemed like everyone had forgotten those small issues, which is good. They didn't need to know.

He wanted to tell him. He really did.

But the words wouldn’t come. His throat closed around them like a locked door.

So he smiled instead, tight but practiced. “I think I just burned out a little. Tour nerves, maybe.”

Jungwon studied him for a moment. “Okay. But if that changes… I’m here.”

Then he stood, ruffled Sunoo’s hair, and went back inside.

Sunoo stayed outside another 10 minutes before retreating back inside.

---

That afternoon, Heeseung suggested a movie marathon.

By 4 p.m., the dorm’s living room had turned into a pillow fort of tangled blankets and half-eaten snacks. The members were draped across each other like lazy cats—Jay lying upside-down on the couch, Ni-ki perched like a gargoyle on the armrest, Sunghoon half-asleep on Heeseung’s shoulder.

Sunoo was in the middle of the pile, Jake curled beside him, hand absently playing with the hem of Sunoo’s sleeve.

“Are you cold?” Jake asked quietly.

“A little,” Sunoo mumbled.

Jake reached over and pulled the blanket higher over his legs but not before placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

Sunoo blushed as he smiled at Jake, nodding his thanks to him.

Jay, eyes still fixed on the screen, muttered, “We could’ve gone out. Why are we watching sad movies and crying in the dark?”

“Because you’re soft,” Heeseung replied.

Sunghoon murmured, “Let me mourn in peace…”

They all laughed.

Sunoo laughed, too.

And for a moment—for a single, golden second—it felt okay.

That night, long after everyone had gone to bed, Sunoo sat at the kitchen table again. Same spot as the week before. Same untouched mug of tea.

He pulled the note out of his pocket and smoothed it flat on the table.

Three weeks left.

He reached for his journal, opened to a clean page, and copied the note in his own handwriting.

Then, beneath it, he wrote:

> If anything happens to me, please know I tried. I was scared. But I didn’t want to ruin the good things. I didn’t want to be the reason everyone worried. I didn’t want to be the weak link.
>
> Please protect each other.
> Please protect the stage.
> And if I don’t make it there—dance like I did anyway.

He stared at the page for a long time.

Then, quietly, closed the book.

And went to bed.

---

— 19 days until the concert —

Morning came slow and warm, the kind of morning that smelled like fabric softener and leftover waffles.

Sunoo woke up on the living room couch, bundled in a blanket he didn’t remember pulling over himself. His eyes blinked open to soft early sunlight—and Jake, sitting on the floor beside him, playing with his hair.

“Morning, sunshine,” Jake whispered. “You snore, by the way.”

Sunoo stretched lazily, his voice still raspy with sleep. “I do not.”

Jake grinned. “Okay, maybe not snore. More like little nose whistles.”

Sunoo smacked him gently with a pillow.

Jake didn’t even flinch. “Worth it. You’re cute when you’re unconscious.”

Before Sunoo could respond, Ni-ki came in from the kitchen with a slice of cold pizza. “Why are you two being gross already? It’s not even 9 a.m.”

“You’re just jealous,” Jake said, tossing a throw pillow at him.

“I’m just awake.” Ni-ki flopped down beside them. “Which means you guys should be, too. Jay’s threatening to clean the bathroom with everyone’s toothbrushes again if we don’t help.”

Sunoo groaned. “Can’t we have one peaceful morning?”

“Not in this household,” Heeseung announced, appearing shirtless with a mug of coffee, looking half-dead and still somehow model-like. “This household runs on chaos and mild threats.”

In the kitchen, Jungwon stood with Sunghoon, the two of them quietly dividing up chores on a scrap of paper.

“You take laundry, I’ll handle dishes,” Jungwon said, pencil tapping thoughtfully. “Jay can vacuum, or else he’ll do that thing where he judges everyone.”

Sunghoon chuckled, elbowing him gently. “You mean exist?”

Just then, Jay walked in and slid his arms around Sunghoon’s waist from behind. “Talking about me again?”

Sunghoon didn’t even flinch. “Always. You're the only one dramatic enough to vacuum like you're performing Swan Lake.”

Jay smirked. “Well, I do have the posture.”

Jungwon made a noise of disgust and walked off. “I’m not dealing with whatever that is.”

An hour later, music was playing from someone’s speaker, and the dorm was full of life.

Ni-ki danced around with a Swiffer in hand like it was a mic. Heeseung, shirt now on (barely), sat on the armrest of the couch, watching everyone with soft eyes, occasionally chucking popcorn at whoever passed by.

Sunoo leaned in the doorway of the kitchen, sipping iced coffee.

“You’re staring,” Sunghoon said as he passed.

“Just watching the circus,” Sunoo replied, smiling.

Sunghoon tilted his head. “You okay?”

Sunoo nodded a little too quickly. “Yeah. Just… happy. Days like this feel rare.”

“They are,” Sunghoon agreed. “Which means we gotta soak it up.”

Before walking away, he leaned in just enough to whisper, “Jake won’t shut up about you, by the way. Sunoo this, Sunoo that.”

Sunoo flushed. “Shut up.”

---

Later, while folding laundry in their shared room, Sunoo sat beside Ni-ki on the floor. The younger boy was surprisingly quiet, folding shirts with unusual care.

“Something on your mind?” Sunoo asked.

Ni-ki didn’t answer right away. Then, softly: “You ever get that feeling… like someone’s following you? Not literally, just… energy.”

Sunoo’s hands stilled. His breath caught—but he didn’t show it.

“Like… something’s about to happen,” Ni-ki said, not looking at him.

Sunoo nodded slowly. “Yeah. I feel that too.”

Ni-ki turned toward him then. “Just so you know… if something is wrong, and you’re not saying it—I’ll find out.”

His voice wasn’t accusatory. It was protective. Almost scared.

Sunoo’s throat tightened. “Thanks, Riki.”

They didn’t say anything else for a while. But Ni-ki didn’t leave his side, either.

That night, after the dorm had gone quiet again, Sunoo sat by the balcony door, watching the skyline.

He thought of the letter buried in his journal. The clock ticking.

Then, from behind him—bare feet padding on the wood floors.

Jake sat down beside him, holding a blanket and two cups of tea.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he said softly.

Sunoo smiled. “Me either.”

Jake handed him a mug, their fingers brushing. “You’re different lately.”

Sunoo looked down. “You think?”

Jake leaned his head on Sunoo’s shoulder. “Yeah. But I’m not pushing. Just… don’t push us away, okay? We love you and we're here for you.”

Sunoo closed his eyes.

“I’ll try.”

---
To Be Continued...

Chapter Text

---

— 18 days until the concert —

Sunoo was the first one awake.

That was unusual. He wasn’t exactly what you'd call a morning person—he normally had to be peeled from his bed with threats of caffeine withdrawal or cuddles (depending on who was asking). But today, sleep hadn’t come easy.

He stood barefoot in the quiet kitchen, hoodie draped over his thin frame, blinking into the glow of the refrigerator. The early sky outside was still tinted lavender.

He poured cereal into a bowl, added just a little too much milk, and stared at it like it might answer all his problems.

He didn’t hear Ni-ki until he shuffled in behind him, yawning so hard it echoed.

“You’re up early,” Ni-ki mumbled, voice gravelly.

Sunoo smiled softly. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Same.” Ni-ki leaned against the counter and squinted at Sunoo. “You look like you’re gonna cry into your cornflakes.”

Sunoo laughed weakly. “They’re Lucky Charms.”

“Then cry prettier.”

-

Thirty minutes later, the dorm’s kitchen had turned into a chaotic breakfast buffet.

Heeseung was making eggs in one pan and attempting pancakes in another. “I’m a multitasking legend,” he declared, then promptly dropped a spatula.

Jake grabbed a strawberry from the cutting board and popped it in Sunoo’s mouth. “Taste test?”

Sunoo blinked at him, flustered. “You could’ve used a fork—?”

Jake shrugged. “You’re cuter this way.”

Jay groaned as he walked in, rubbing sleep from his face. “If one more person flirts before I get caffeine, I’m locking the pantry.”

“You’re just bitter because no one flirts with you,” Jungwon shot back, sipping orange juice calmly.

Jay fake-gasped. “Excuse me—Sunghoon flirts with me daily.”

Sunghoon wandered in right on cue, wearing one of Jay’s hoodies. “Yeah. But I do that out of charity.”

Everyone erupted in laughter as Jay clutched his chest dramatically. “I’m being bullied in my own home!”

Eventually, plates clinked onto the table and the members gathered—slumped in chairs, hoodie sleeves too long, voices scratchy and full of jokes.

Sunoo sat between Jake and Ni-ki, who kept sliding tangerine slices onto his plate every time he looked away.

“You need Vitamin C,” Ni-ki said when Sunoo caught him.

“I’m not a sick grandma,” Sunoo replied.

“You act like one,” Ni-ki teased, grinning.

Jake leaned into Sunoo’s side. “Let him be. He’s the prettiest grandma I’ve ever seen.”

Sunoo tried to hide his smile behind a sip of juice. He was still tired, still scared. But this—this felt safe.

Almost.

“Alright,” Jungwon said between bites, “house meeting after this.”

Heeseung raised a brow. “House meeting?”

“Yeah. We’ve got security updates coming before the next pre-tour show. And the company’s moving some of our staff around.”

Jay frowned. “Why?”

Jungwon hesitated. “They didn’t say, exactly. Just ‘tightening operations.’ Probably normal stuff.”

Sunoo stared at his food. His hand tightened slightly on his fork.

No one noticed.

Except Ni-ki.

After breakfast, the group split—Jay and Sunghoon started cleaning up, Jungwon opened his laptop for emails, and Heeseung started beatboxing for no reason while Ni-ki recorded it on his phone.

Jake tugged Sunoo toward the couch. “You didn’t eat enough.”

“I’m full,” Sunoo protested.

Jake pulled a tangerine from the bowl and began peeling it. “Okay, then let me feed you until you explode.”

Sunoo laughed. “Why are you like this?”

“Because I like seeing you laugh,” Jake said simply.

And just like that, Sunoo’s chest ached—not from fear this time, but from something warmer, something he wasn’t sure he deserved.

He took the slice Jake offered. “Okay. Just one.”

---

But back in the kitchen, Ni-ki slipped a note from the fridge into his hoodie pocket.

It wasn’t meant for him.

It was meant for Sunoo.

A sticky note, plain yellow. Taped onto the side of the coffee machine. But the writing wasn’t anyone’s he recognized.

It simply said:

> Still watching.
> Don’t ruin the countdown.

Ni-ki’s eyes narrowed. His whole body tensed.

And this time, he didn’t tell anyone either.

-

The plates were cleared, dishes rinsed, and half the group had changed into slightly less wrinkled versions of pajamas before settling in the living room.

Sunoo tucked himself into a corner of the couch, wrapped in a throw blanket like armor. Jake sat beside him, legs sprawled out comfortably. Ni-ki leaned against the backrest behind them, quiet—more than usual.

Heeseung claimed the floor, back against the coffee table, while Jay and Sunghoon took the other couch. Jungwon, of course, stood in front of the TV like he was about to present a TED Talk with no slides.

“Okay,” Jungwon started, clapping once. “Quick meeting. I won’t take forever, so nobody fall asleep.”

“I make no promises,” Heeseung muttered.

Jay smirked. “You stayed up playing FIFA until 4. That’s your fault.”

“You were watching,” Heeseung shot back.

“You were yelling.”

“You were cheering.”

“Can we not?” Jungwon sighed. “Anyway—updates.”

He glanced at his phone and read off notes.

“So, the company’s restructuring staff around the pre-tour shows. We’ll have a new backstage security manager starting next week—apparently someone with counter-stalker experience.” He paused. “Which sounds dramatic, but they said it’s precautionary.”

Sunoo stiffened slightly, fingers curling into the blanket.

Jake noticed, but didn’t say anything. He only reached over, resting his pinky against Sunoo’s, like a silent tether.

Jungwon continued, “Also, building access has been limited for now—only main crew and ID-approved visitors. That includes the dorm. They’re installing more cameras around the outer hallway, and we’ll be changing our staff keycodes.”

“Wait,” Sunghoon said, brow raised. “Did something happen?”

“Not that I know of,” Jungwon said carefully. “But better to be safe. They’re calling it ‘routine tightening’ since tour’s coming up.”

Jay nodded. “Sounds fair. We’ve had close calls with crowds before.”

“Exactly,” Jungwon said. “I just need everyone to be a little more mindful. No sneaking out solo, even to convenience stores. If you feel weird about anything—tell me or our manager, okay?”

Sunoo looked down at his lap. The note from yesterday seemed to buzz in his memory.

Across from him, Ni-ki was silent, one leg bouncing. He didn’t look up.

“Also,” Jungwon added, trying to soften the mood, “the schedule is light this week. So if anyone wants to request extra downtime or bring up anything group-related, now’s the time.”

Sunghoon perked up. “Can we reassign dish duty? Jay hasn’t touched a sponge in four days.”

“That is slander,” Jay said, hand over his heart. “I wiped the counter yesterday.”

“With a tissue,” Heeseung pointed out.

Jake laughed. “And you left crumbs.”

Jay gestured dramatically. “Fine. Put me on laundry. I’m great at folding—ask Sunoo.”

Sunoo smiled faintly. “Only when you’re trying to impress me.”

Jay blinked. “Well… yeah.”

That got a round of teasing ohhhhs from the rest of the group. Even Ni-ki cracked a small grin.

For a brief moment, the tension eased again—like someone had cracked open a window.

Eventually, the meeting wound down, and the boys began to break off—Sunghoon retreating to the bedroom, Heeseung on dish duty under protest, and Jake tugging Sunoo toward the balcony to “get some air and vitamin D.”

Only Ni-ki stayed back.

“Hey, Jungwon,” he said quietly as the others left.

Jungwon turned. “What’s up?”

Ni-ki hesitated. He opened his mouth. Closed it.

“Nothing,” he said. “Just… let me know if we get camera access, okay?”

Jungwon raised a brow. “You mean security feed?”

Ni-ki nodded. “Yeah. Just curious.”

Jungwon didn’t press. “Sure.”

As he turned away, Ni-ki’s fingers slipped into his hoodie pocket again, brushing the corner of the sticky note he hadn’t told anyone about.

-

Elsewhere, just one floor below the dorm, a discarded company badge with a forged photo lay inside a locker that should have been empty.

And a phone screen lit up with a countdown timer:

> Showtime in: 18 Days, 3 Hours, 44 Minutes.

---
2 Hours later

The sun was soft above Seoul, still high enough to cast warmth but low enough to bathe the streets in a mellow gold.

Sunoo tucked his mask higher on his face as he walked beside Jungwon, hoodie zipped up, hands stuffed in his sleeves.

It felt good to be outside. Kind of normal. The breeze brushing against his cheeks. The occasional hum of a passing car. No stage lights. No mirrors. No cameras.

Just... the two of them, heading to the convenience store for more banana milk, snacks, and a break from the dorm.

Jungwon glanced sideways at him. “You sure you’re up for going out?”

Sunoo gave a small smile. “I needed the air. And banana milk tastes better when you earn it.”

Jungwon chuckled. “That's oddly philosophical. You planning on writing fortune cookie slogans now?”

“If the idol thing fails,” Sunoo teased, “I’ve got backup plans.”

They crossed the last street, stepping into the familiar corner store a few blocks from their dorm—the one with the overfriendly ajumma who always tried to give Ni-ki spicy ramen samples he couldn't handle.

Inside, the air was cool and crisp. A soft old ballad played from the radio behind the register.

Sunoo drifted toward the drinks cooler, trailing his fingers over the frosty glass before pulling out two banana milks. He hesitated. Grabbed three. Ni-ki would probably steal one if he didn’t.

Jungwon was already scanning the snack aisle, hands behind his back like a teacher on patrol. “We need more gum. The blueberry one.”

“Blueberry? You’re so basic,” Sunoo said lightly.

“You’re just mad because you eat Mint-flavored toothpaste.”

Sunoo rolled his eyes and picked up a packet of jelly gummies, cradling them like treasure.

The whole interaction was so normal. So boring. So painfully peaceful.
And that’s why it was suspicious.

-

He felt it before he saw it. That sharp twinge at the back of his neck. Like static. Like pressure. Like being watched again.

He turned subtly—eyes scanning the aisle behind him.

No one there.

Then again, the corner store’s front window was wide and clear. Across the street, people were walking by—some with masks, some without. Phones in hand, heads down. One girl paused by the bus stop. A man leaned against a light pole.

It could’ve been anyone.

Or no one.

He looked back toward Jungwon.

But Jungwon was already looking at *him*.

“You feel that?” Jungwon asked, voice low now. Not playful.

Sunoo’s heart skipped. “Feel what?”

Jungwon didn’t answer right away. He moved toward the front register, motioning for Sunoo to follow.

They paid in silence.

Outside, they didn’t talk at first. Just walked. Quicker this time.

Sunoo gripped the bag tighter. His palms were sweaty, even in the cool air.

“I didn’t want to say anything,” Jungwon murmured once they turned a corner, away from the main street. “But someone across the road was pointing their phone directly at us. Not even pretending to text.”

Sunoo’s throat tightened. “You think they knew who we were?”

“Could be coincidence.” Jungwon’s tone was gentle but clipped. “But I’ve had that gut feeling before.”

They reached the dorm building a few minutes later.

Sunoo turned to look behind them one last time.

The street was empty.

But it should’ve felt more comforting than it did.

Back upstairs, Jungwon dropped the snack bag on the counter. “I’ll message the company. Just in case.”

Sunoo nodded, quietly peeling the seal from a banana milk, but he couldn’t drink it.

Because tucked inside the plastic bag—wedged between the two bottles—was a folded napkin.

He didn’t remember picking it up.

He didn’t remember it being there.

With shaky fingers, he unfolded it.

In scribbled ink:

> You’re so pretty when you lie.
> Don’t pretend you weren’t scared.

Sunoo stared.

He didn’t tell Jungwon this time either.

---
To Be Continued...

Chapter Text

---

— 17 days until the concert —

Ni-ki’s POV

Ni-ki wasn’t stupid.

People liked to forget that about him sometimes. He was the youngest, sure—the mischief-maker, the gamer, the chaos child. But he *watched*. He *listened*. And he remembered the way things shifted when something wasn’t right.

Like now.

Sunoo was off. Not dramatically—but subtly. Like he was folding into himself in pieces. Laughing, but too softly. Sleeping, but not deeply. Blinking a beat too slow when he thought no one was watching.

Ni-ki noticed.

And when he found the sticky note in the kitchen that morning, taped beneath the edge of the coffee machine, it took exactly 1.7 seconds for something in his stomach to drop.

> Still watching. Don’t ruin the countdown.

At first, he thought it was a prank. One of the hyungs being weird. Maybe Jake messing around.

But no one in the dorm had handwriting like that.

And no one on the team had a reason to tape creepy messages in their kitchen.

Ni-ki didn’t tell anyone.

Instead, he slipped the note into his hoodie pocket and kept his mouth shut.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the others.

He just didn’t want to be wrong.

Or worse—right.

So he started quietly paying attention.

-

That night, after the group meeting, while everyone else was in their rooms watching dramas or scrolling on their phones, Ni-ki booted up his laptop in the corner of the shared bedroom.

He plugged in a spare USB he borrowed from staff last week. He knew how to access the building’s shared hallway cam archive. It wasn’t hacking—just persistence, some company shortcuts, and a really good memory for passwords.

He scrolled.

Two nights ago. Midnight. A blur of static. Normal activity.

One shadow paused outside the dorm door for too long.

He zoomed in.

Too pixelated. No clear face. But the outline… tall, hoodie pulled low, unmoving for nearly six minutes.

Ni-ki’s heart sped up.

He clicked over to the footage from this morning. Around the time of the note.

Sure enough—another person. Shorter. Cap low. Back turned to the camera. Reaching down the counter. Exactly where Ni-ki found the note later.

It wasn’t any of the members. He knew that.

Someone had been in their dorm.

And not just watching.

They had touched things.

His fingers curled into fists.

He wanted to tell Jungwon. He wanted to shout and wake up Sunoo and demand to know what the hell was going on.

But something in him whispered: not yet.

Not until he knew the whole picture.

Not until he could protect Sunoo without giving the stalker a reason to move faster.

-

The next morning, Ni-ki sat at the breakfast table with the others, eyes flicking between faces, watching.

Sunoo was smiling again. It looked better than yesterday, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Sunghoon was teasing him about banana milk. Jungwon was humming. Jake was fake arguing with Heeseung. Jay was sipping coffee like a dad who’d seen too much.

Ni-ki sat still.

The note burned in his hoodie pocket again.

The footage was still open on his laptop.

And something in his chest whispered:

You’re running out of time.

---

— 16 days until the concert —

It was raining outside.

The soft, steady patter against the windows should’ve been calming. The dorm was dim, quiet, wrapped in the kind of hush that only came with early evenings and heavy clouds. Most of the members had gone to nap or drifted into their own rooms after a long vocal session.

Sunoo sat on his bed, legs crossed, blanket wrapped around his shoulders like a shield. The lights were low, and his phone screen glowed pale blue in his hands.

Unread texts.
Fan messages.
Tour countdowns.

It all blurred.

And then there was a knock.

A soft one.

“Hey,” Ni-ki’s voice murmured on the other side. “You free?”

Sunoo blinked. “Yeah. Come in.”

The door creaked as Ni-ki stepped inside, closing it gently behind him. He lingered for a moment before sitting at the foot of Sunoo’s bed, quiet.

No teasing. No jokes. Just presence.

That’s how Sunoo knew it was serious.

Ni-ki didn’t look at him at first. He glanced down at his hands, picking at the skin around his thumb.

Then, quietly:

“I found something.”

Sunoo froze.

Ni-ki continued, voice steady but soft. “A note. In the kitchen. It was meant for you, wasn’t it?”

Silence.

Sunoo couldn’t breathe.

Ni-ki looked up. “Sunoo hyung… I didn’t want to go behind your back, but I checked the camera logs. Someone’s been inside the building. The dorm. I saw them leave something.”

Sunoo’s hands started shaking.

“I thought it was a prank at first,” Ni-ki said. “But after what I saw, and after the way you’ve been—” He swallowed. “You’re not okay.”

“I’m fine,” Sunoo choked, the words automatic, robotic. “I’m just tired.”

“Don’t do that,” Ni-ki whispered. “Don’t lie to me.”

Sunoo’s eyes filled before he could stop them.

Ni-ki reached forward, placing a hand gently on his knee. “You can’t keep this to yourself anymore.”

And just as Sunoo opened his mouth—just as he finally let himself feel the relief of being seen—

He noticed it.

On his pillow.

Folded. Clean. Resting like it belonged there.

A note.

He hadn’t seen it earlier. He hadn’t left it there. He hadn’t touched anything.

But there it was.

He didn’t even remember standing. His body just moved, like being pulled underwater.

He grabbed it with trembling hands, unfolding the paper.

Ni-ki stood too, watching him with growing horror.

The note said:

> Your bed smells like you.
> I laid here while you were gone.
> You’re beautiful up close.

Sunoo dropped it like it burned.

And then—

He cracked.

It didn’t happen like in dramas.

There was no scream. No sudden sob. No dramatic fall to the floor.

It was quiet.

A sharp breath. A stuttered gasp. Then another. And then—

He collapsed into Ni-ki, hands clawing at his hoodie, shoulders shaking so violently it knocked the pillows off the bed.

Ni-ki caught him without hesitation, wrapping both arms around him, holding him like he could physically glue him back together.

Sunoo sobbed into his chest, body convulsing with fear and shame and grief.

“I didn’t say anything,” he cried, voice cracking. “I didn’t want to ruin things. I didn’t want you all to look at me like I was broken—”

“We don’t,” Ni-ki whispered fiercely. “You’re not broken. You’re not weak. You’re just scared. And I’m scared too.”

Sunoo clung tighter.

“They were in my room, Riki. They were in here. While I was gone.”

“I know,” Ni-ki said. “I know. But you’re not alone anymore, okay? We’re gonna fix this. Together.”

Down the hall, the rest of the members stirred—drawn by the noise, by the quiet thunder of something shifting. The dorm wouldn’t be silent for much longer.

But for now, in that rain-soaked, dim-lit room, Ni-ki didn’t move.

He held Sunoo like a promise.

Riki didn’t move, not for a long time.

He stayed right there on the edge of Sunoo’s bed, arms wrapped around his trembling form, pressing soft reassurances into his hair between shaky breaths. The storm outside matched the one in Sunoo’s chest—unrelenting. But in Riki’s arms, the edges dulled just enough.

“You’re safe now,” Riki whispered. “You’re not alone anymore.”

Sunoo didn’t answer, but his fists slowly unclenched, hoodie fabric slipping from his grip. His head fell heavier against Riki’s chest, tears soaking into the fabric. His breathing was still uneven, but not panicked.

Not drowning anymore. Just floating.

And Riki stayed with him. Gently shifting them backward until they were lying down together, curled under the covers. He didn’t ask if it was okay—he just knew it was needed.

Sunoo’s back was pressed against his chest, small and warm, still hiccupping softly.

Riki draped an arm over his waist, tucking them close together like puzzle pieces.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered into the back of Sunoo’s neck. “I’m not letting anyone hurt you. We’ll all be with you. Always.”

He could feel Sunoo nod faintly, the tiniest motion.

“You guys all noticed, didn’t you?” Sunoo asked hoarsely. “Before I said anything.”

“Yeah, well I think so.” Riki murmured. “We notice everything about you. How could we not?”

Sunoo’s hand reached up and curled around Riki’s, their fingers locking together.

“…I was really scared.”

“I know,” Riki said, pressing a kiss to the back of his shoulder. “But you don’t have to be now.”

Silence settled over them. The kind that came with exhaustion, not tension. With safety, not silence.

And slowly, gently, Sunoo’s breathing evened out. His lashes fluttered against flushed cheeks, his body relaxing fully for the first time in days.

Riki stayed awake long after, keeping him close. Just watching. Just holding.

Because tonight, no one else got in.

Tonight, the bed only smelled like Sunoo because he was finally in it—safe, warm, and loved.

---

— 16 days until the concert —

The next morning started too quietly.

Riki woke first, blinking blearily against the soft morning light filtering through Sunoo’s curtains. Sunoo was still nestled against his chest, finally at peace, lips parted slightly in sleep. Riki didn’t move.

But something felt… off.

It wasn’t the light. Or the room.

It was the air.

It was still—unnaturally so.

Eventually, Sunoo stirred. He blinked a few times, then looked up, surprised to still find Riki beside him.

"You stayed," he mumbled, voice still raspy.

“Of course,” Riki whispered, brushing a hand over his hair.

A knock at the door interrupted them.

Jungwon’s voice came from the other side. “Guys? Breakfast’s ready. We’re all in the kitchen.”

Sunoo sat up slowly. “Okay! We’re coming.”

Riki stretched, but the unease still prickled at the back of his neck. He tried to shake it off.

They joined the others a few minutes later.

The kitchen was filled with chatter—Jay flipping eggs, Jake sipping coffee from a pink mug, Sunghoon half-asleep in a hoodie twice his size. Heeseung was scrolling on his phone, and Jungwon was already halfway through a plate of toast.

Everything looked normal.

Too normal.

But then Jay frowned. “Wait, who opened the balcony door?”

Everyone paused.

“What?” Jungwon asked.

Jay pointed toward the living room. The sliding glass door to the balcony stood slightly ajar, the curtain fluttering in the soft breeze.

“I locked it last night. I remember because I checked twice,” Jay said.

Jake set down his mug, voice serious. “No one else went out there?”

“No,” said Heeseung. “I’ve been in my room since midnight.”

A silence stretched between them.

“I didn’t touch it either,” Sunghoon said slowly.

Sunoo froze.

So did Riki.

It wasn’t just the door.

Sunoo's phone buzzed suddenly on the kitchen counter, lighting up with a notification. It wasn’t a message. It wasn’t from the group chat.

It was a Bluetooth pairing request.

“UNKNOWN DEVICE WANTS TO CONNECT.”

Sunoo stared at it.

Riki stepped closer. “Sunoo…?”

He picked up the phone, hand shaking.

Another notification appeared immediately.

Connected to: RoomCam_2049

“What the hell is that?” Jake asked.

Sunoo’s stomach dropped.

He bolted from the kitchen and ran to his bedroom. The rest of the members were right behind him.

He threw the door open and stopped cold.

Sitting on his desk, beside a pile of makeup brushes and perfume bottles, was a tiny black camera—no bigger than a matchbox—pointed directly at his bed.

It was blinking.

Recording.

Riki let out a string of curses. Jungwon’s jaw clenched. Sunghoon looked ready to break something. Heeseung picked it up with a tissue and immediately turned it off.

“No one’s supposed to have access to our dorm,” Jay muttered. “No one. Not even staff can walk in without—”

“There was another one,” Ni-ki said.

Everyone turned.

Ni-ki looked guilty.

“I found a note in the kitchen the other day. I didn’t tell anyone. I wanted to find out more before I said anything.”

He pulled the wrinkled paper from his hoodie pocket and handed it over.

> Still watching. Don’t ruin the countdown.

Jake ran a hand through his hair. “How long has this been going on?”

Sunoo couldn’t answer.

He was staring at the corner of the room—where his diffuser sat on a floating shelf.

The lavender essential oil bottle had been twisted… just slightly. He never left it open.

His safe spaces weren’t safe anymore.

“Sunoo hyung,” Jungwon said softly, stepping forward. “Why didn’t you tell us earlier?”

Sunoo looked at him, wide-eyed and broken. “Because I didn’t want to make you all worry. Because I thought… maybe I was imagining it.”

Jake crossed the room in two steps and pulled him into a hug. “Well, now you don’t have to handle any of this alone.”

One by one, the members gathered around him, arms overlapping, hands threading through hair, shoulders touching.

“You’re ours,” Heeseung said simply. “We protect what’s ours.”

“We love you,” Sunghoon added.

“No more secrets,” Jay whispered.

Riki didn’t say anything—he just grabbed Sunoo’s hand and squeezed.

And Sunoo, even in his shaking, felt like the light was beginning to return.

But outside the dorm—lurking, waiting—the darkness was still moving.

And it wasn’t done yet.

The promise of a retreat lingered in the room like a fragile hope. One they all clung to.

Sunoo’s fingers were still trembling slightly as he wiped under his eyes. “Do you think… Do you think we’ll actually be safe there?”

“We’ll make sure of it,” Jungwon said, voice firm. “Private villa. Booked through the company. Security check before we even step inside.”

“We’ll triple-check it ourselves too,” Jay added, his eyes hard with determination. “I’m not taking any more chances.”

Ni-ki was still sitting beside Sunoo, and now he tucked a blanket around both of them like a cocoon. “I’ll stick to you like glue. I’m your human alarm system.”

“I’m honestly surprised you’re not just going to sleep in his suitcase,” Jake teased, leaning over to brush Sunoo’s bangs out of his eyes. “We all know you’re the clingiest when someone’s hurting.”

Ni-ki only shrugged and pulled Sunoo in tighter. “You’re just mad I don’t cling to you like this.”

Sunghoon snorted from across the room. “He clings to everyone. The other day he sat on my lap while ordering chicken.”

“I was cold,” Ni-ki said defensively.

“You were wearing socks on your hands,” Sunghoon shot back.

Sunoo couldn’t help it—he let out a soft laugh, his head gently falling against Riki’s shoulder.

It was so warm.

Jake sat down on the bed next to them, gently patting Sunoo’s knee. “Hey. Want to come hang out in the living room again, or…?”

Sunoo hesitated. Then shook his head. “Not yet.”

“Totally okay,” Jake said immediately.

“I… I just feel safer here right now. With Riki,” Sunoo murmured, voice small. “And all of you nearby.”

Jungwon nodded. “Then we’ll rotate. Someone will stay in here with you until we leave for the retreat.”

“No rotating for me,” Riki mumbled, already wrapping his arms around Sunoo like a weighted blanket. “I’m staying.”

Jay looked up from his laptop. “Company said they’ll have security review footage from the building, but they’re not hopeful. Whoever did this was careful.”

“Of course they were,” Heeseung muttered. “They’ve been watching him for weeks.”

Sunghoon’s brows furrowed. “We really had no clue…”

“No one blames you,” Sunoo said softly. “I didn’t want anyone to know. I thought if I ignored it…”

Riki’s grip tightened.

Sunoo trailed off, leaning into the younger’s chest.

“Sleep,” Riki whispered, his voice close to Sunoo’s ear. “Just for a little while. You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

Sunoo didn’t respond right away. His lashes fluttered as his body slowly relaxed against Riki’s warmth, the rise and fall of his chest grounding him more than words ever could.

“Don’t leave?” he mumbled.

“Never,” Riki said.

Across the room, the others quietly started to filter out. Jake paused in the doorway, watching the way Sunoo’s fingers unconsciously curled into Riki’s hoodie.

His heart ached.

They all loved him. Fiercely. Differently. But deeply.

And someone out there wanted to rip him away.

Not on their watch.

Not now.
Not ever.

---
To Be Continued...

Chapter Text

15 Days Until The Concert

The dorm was quieter than it had been in days.

Sunoo was finally asleep—peaceful in Riki’s arms, bundled in a cocoon of warmth and quiet breaths. His chest rose and fell with soft rhythm, the shadows under his eyes gentler now. Riki hadn’t moved once since settling in beside him, keeping perfectly still as if scared his absence might wake the nightmare again.

Out in the living room, the others were in silent motion.

Jay had his laptop open on the coffee table, multiple tabs filled with logistics: retreat confirmations, background checks on security, encrypted messaging apps. Jungwon sat beside him, chewing the inside of his cheek, foot bouncing restlessly.

Heeseung stood by the window, phone in hand, brows furrowed.

"Okay," he said after a long moment, "I found something."

The room stilled.

“What is it?” Jake asked, eyes narrowing.

Heeseung turned his phone to face them. It was a screenshot of a private fan account. Minimal followers. Barely any posts. But what caught their eyes weren’t the captions—it was the content.

A photo of Sunoo.

But not a stage photo.

Not an airport photo.

Not even a selfie.

This was a candid. Indoors. In their own dorm kitchen. The angle was high—like it was taken through a vent, or a corner security camera.

Sunoo, bent over slightly, reaching for a mug in the cupboard. Wearing pajamas. No makeup. Hair still wet from a shower.

Jungwon’s voice was sharp. “That’s from last week.”

“And here,” Heeseung swiped to another photo. “That one? He was making bubble tea two nights ago. We were all watching a movie. No one posted this. Not even staff.”

Jay leaned forward. “How long has this account existed?”

“Since early June,” Heeseung murmured. “Just six posts total. All of Sunoo. All… here.”

Sunghoon stood slowly, jaw clenched. “There’s no way they took those from outside the building. That angle—no way. They’d have to be inside.”

Jake’s voice was ice. “Or hacking into something that’s inside.”

A chill passed through them.

Security cameras. Device mirroring. Smart appliances. The dorm had all the comforts of high-tech living—but now those luxuries felt like open wounds.

“Check the dorm router,” Jungwon said to Jay. “And the security cam app. If they got into our Wi-Fi, it’s game over.”

Sunghoon was already on his feet. “I’ll cover the hallway. No one’s getting close.”

Heeseung was still staring at the screen, voice quieter now. “This isn’t just about photos. Look at the captions.”

Jake took the phone, eyes scanning the most recent post. The image was of Sunoo laughing—soft, blurry, clearly unaware of being watched.

The caption:

> he doesn’t even know how perfect he looks when no one’s watching. he’s only ever meant to be seen by me.

Jake’s skin crawled.

The next post:

> you’re so good at pretending, but I see right through you. they don’t deserve you like I do. not even them. 💌

“Them…” Jay repeated. “You think they mean us?”

No one had to answer.

It was becoming clear: whoever this was, they weren’t just obsessed with Sunoo.

They hated ENHYPEN.

---

Back in the bedroom, Sunoo stirred faintly in Riki’s arms. A soft whimper escaped his lips, brows creasing as if the dream tried to pull him back under.

But then Riki shifted closer, pulling him in until there was no space between them.

“You’re okay,” he whispered, even if Sunoo couldn’t hear. “We’ve got you.”

---

Jay’s fingers hovered above the trackpad, scrolling slowly through the anonymous fan account, dread anchoring in his gut like cement.

"Let’s just… look through all of it," he said quietly.

Jake nodded stiffly, and the others drew in close.

Heeseung took a shaky breath. “Here’s the first post. Dated June 3rd.”

The image was of Sunoo at the practice room—tired, hair messy, water bottle in hand. Definitely not a company-issued photo.

Jay read the caption aloud:

> even when he’s exhausted, he still shines. I’d help him rest. I’d make it quiet for him.

Sunghoon muttered, “What does that even mean?”

“Keep going,” Jungwon said, eyes hard.

> June 12th Post.
Photo: Sunoo walking behind the others after rehearsal, yawning into his sleeve.

> they never notice when he’s hurting. they’re always too busy. but i notice everything. i watch everything.

> June 20th Post.
Photo: A close-up of Sunoo’s wrist as he reached for a phone charger—cropped so the photo felt too intimate.

> he’s the only one worth capturing. if they weren’t in the way, maybe he’d see me already.

Jake clenched his jaw. “They’re trying to isolate him. From us.”

> July 3rd Post.
Photo: A dark, grainy photo that looked like it had been taken through the peephole of their front door—Sunoo’s silhouette was visible as he leaned over to take off his shoes.

> he’s closest to the door. maybe he wants to be found. maybe he wants out.

Jay’s hands tightened into fists. “That’s our front entrance.”

> July 10th Post.
Photo: None this time. Just text.

> they’re getting suspicious. I’ll be patient. the show’s coming up soon anyway. he’ll be alone. he always is when it matters most.

Heeseung stared at that one for a long time, then whispered, “They’re talking about the concert. The one next month.”

“The one where we split up backstage before ‘Bite Me,’” Sunghoon added. “He is alone then. Just for a few minutes.”

Jungwon cursed under his breath. “This isn’t random anymore. It’s planned.”

Jay scrolled down to the most recent post—uploaded just an hour ago.

> July 17th Post.
Photo: A shot of their living room couch—empty, slightly indented cushions, taken from a high angle.

Jake paled. “That’s right now. That’s today.”

The caption:

> they still don’t get it. but I’m already home. and soon, so will he.

---

Silence crashed down like thunder.

For a long moment, no one moved. Even the hum of the air conditioner felt too loud.

“We need to wake Sunoo,” Jungwon said hoarsely.

Jake shook his head. “He needs rest—”

“He’s not safe,” Sunghoon snapped, standing. “We aren’t either. Not until we find out how they’re watching us.”

Jay shut the laptop.

“Then we dig. We tear this place apart if we have to. We check vents, cameras, mirrors, appliances—everything.”

Heeseung stood slowly, his voice low.

“And when we find them…”

His gaze turned ice cold.

“…we make sure they never get close to him again.”

Jay was the first to move, flipping the living room light on as if brightness could chase away the dread. “We’ll split up. Check every room. Every vent, every wall.”

Heeseung nodded. “No half-assing it. Assume whoever this is has been in our space.”

Sunghoon muttered, “They already have…”

Jake disappeared toward the hallway, checking door frames and behind paintings. Jungwon headed to the kitchen, prying open the pantry and peeking under the sink. Sunghoon started with the bathrooms, eyes narrowed with laser focus until he moved to his bedroom.

Jay and Heeseung stayed in the living room, overturning couch cushions, running hands behind the TV stand, behind the curtains, even beneath the rug.

Then came a sound. A quiet “what the hell?” from Sunghoon’s room.

Everyone snapped to attention.

Jay was the first to arrive. “Sunghoon?”

Sunghoon was crouched beside his bookshelf. He held up a small slip of white paper—no envelope, no handwriting on the outside. Just… folded neatly. Deliberately.

He opened it slowly.

His face drained.

Jay grabbed it next, eyes scanning the tiny message written in red ink:

> He sleeps in the room closest to the hallway.
> I watch him every night.
> He's prettier when he cries."

There was no signature.

Just that message.

Just those words.

Jake’s voice broke. “That’s Sunoo’s room.”

Sunghoon pushed past everyone, heading straight for Sunoo’s door. “I’m checking on him.”

“No, wait—!” Jungwon started, but he was already gone.

The rest of the group stood frozen. That note—no postage, no delivery, no reason to be here unless...

“…It was left inside,” Heeseung said slowly. “They were here. In the house.”

Jay looked back toward the hallway.

And that’s when Jungwon’s eyes landed on it.

A small, perfectly round sticker—black with a white smiling face—tucked into the corner of the hallway light switch. It hadn’t been there yesterday.

“…There’s more,” he whispered. “There’s definitely more.”

---
Sunghoon stood protectively in the doorway of Sunoo’s bedroom, his gaze softening as he looked at the two figures curled up under the covers.

Riki had shifted slightly in his sleep, one arm still draped around Sunoo’s waist. The tension that had gripped Sunoo’s body the past few days seemed to have melted—his face calm now, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

Whatever fear had overtaken him earlier had quieted for the moment, replaced by the safety of Riki’s warmth.

Sunghoon didn’t dare wake them. He closed the door with a gentle click and turned back to the others.

“They’re okay,” he whispered. “Still sleeping.”

“Good,” Jay muttered. He held up the folded paper they’d found earlier. “Because this... this wasn’t the only one.”

Heeseung had found another note—tucked inside a cereal box in the kitchen pantry.

< he likes strawberry best. it’s the only one he finishes mainly.

Jake pulled a half-eaten bag of freeze-dried strawberries from the trash. “They went through our garbage?”

A chill rippled through the group.

“That means they’ve been inside more than once,” Jungwon said. “Not just when we’re here—maybe even when we’re gone. They’ve been studying us. Our routines. Our rooms…”

“I’m going back through camera logs,” Heeseung announced, already pulling out his laptop. “The ones from our security system and the spare dash cam we set up outside.”

Jay added, “And I’m checking Sunoo’s bedroom next. They said they’ve watched him sleep.”

“No,” Sunghoon cut in, firm. “He’s finally resting. You open that door and he’s gonna wake up again.”

Jay hesitated. The fire in his chest said to barge in anyway—to make sure every inch of that room was clean. But the image of Sunoo, sobbing and clinging to Riki the night before, pulled him back.

“…Fine. We wait.”

A few minutes passed in heavy silence as everyone split up again, this time with gloves on and phones out—careful not to destroy any potential evidence.

That’s when Jungwon found it.

Taped under the dining room table—out of sight, flat against the wood—was a small Polaroid.

He yanked it off and turned it over.

It was Sunoo, again.

But this time, it was different.

This photo was taken from behind—Sunoo was sitting on the floor in his room, back against the bedframe, head in his hands. The timestamp scribbled on the bottom was from last night.

Before anyone had known he was missing.
Before Riki had found him crying.
Before he’d said a single word.

The caption, again, was scrawled in red ink:

> he’s starting to remember. good.
soon, he won’t have to tell them anything at all.

Jungwon's hands started shaking.

“Guys…” he called out. His voice cracked.

The rest rushed over.

Jay stared at the Polaroid like it might burn him. “This was last night.”

“They were in the room with him before Ni-ki went in,” Sunghoon whispered. “While he was breaking down. While we were…”

“…while we were out here,” Jake finished hollowly. “Clueless.”

Heeseung dropped his laptop onto the coffee table. “That’s it. We’re calling security. Staff. Everyone.”

“And Sunoo?” Jungwon asked, already halfway to the hallway.

Jay exhaled shakily. “We wake him. Gently. And we don’t leave him alone. Not for a second.”

They all nodded.

The air was tense. Violent with unsaid rage.

Whoever this was had made their move.

And now, it was their turn.

---
To Be Continued...

Chapter Text

---

The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows through the dorm’s living room. The warm glow filtering in did nothing to ease the tension coiling in the chests of the six awake boys. They moved like ghosts, quiet and calculated, afraid that even the sound of their breathing might alert someone—or something—that they knew.

Sunoo was still asleep.

And it had never felt more necessary for him to be unaware.

Jay stood by the front door, checking the locks for the third time, while Heeseung muttered under his breath, flipping through security footage frame by frame. Jake paced the hallway, unable to stay still, and Jungwon sat with the Polaroid in his lap like it might give him answers if he stared long enough.

Sunghoon had returned to Sunoo’s bedroom, silently pulling a blanket over the two sleeping figures. He crouched beside them for a moment, watching the steady rhythm of Sunoo’s breathing. His face looked so soft, lips slightly parted, lashes brushing flushed cheeks.

He looked like peace.

But outside, peace had been shattered.

Sunghoon gently brushed a hand over Riki’s hair, whispering, “Hold him tight. Don’t let go.”

Then he left the room, closing the door just as quietly as before.

An hour later.

“Still nothing?” Jake’s voice cracked. Heeseung didn’t answer—just shook his head with tight lips.

“I don’t get it,” Jay said, crouching beside Jungwon, who had placed the Polaroid onto the table. “They’re taunting us. Why now? Why so open?”

“Because,” Jungwon muttered, “they think we’re powerless.”

Silence.

The kind of silence that stretches—long and suffocating. Not peaceful. Not calm.

Oppressive.

Jake sat down hard on the couch, rubbing at his eyes. “What do we even tell Sunoo? ‘Hey, someone’s been watching you sleep. Oh, and also they took a picture of your breakdown.’”

Jay’s jaw clenched. “We don’t tell him everything. Not yet.”

“But if we keep hiding it—”

“We tell him enough to keep him safe,” Heeseung cut in, voice low and certain. “Not enough to shatter him.”

In Sunoo’s room.

Sunoo stirred.

He blinked slowly, dazed in the fading light of his room. The air was quiet. Too quiet.

He felt warm.

Riki’s arms were still wrapped around him, one hand resting loosely on his waist, the other under his cheek. He felt Sunoo move and stirred slightly, mumbling, “You okay…?”

Sunoo didn’t answer right away. He stared at the soft folds of the blanket. The ache in his chest was still there—low and heavy—but dulled by sleep.

And safety.

Or what he hoped was still safety.

“…Did I fall asleep?” he whispered.

Riki nodded, eyes still shut. “You cried yourself out. I stayed. We’re good.”

Sunoo closed his eyes again. The warmth helped. Riki’s heartbeat helped. The silence—

No. It wasn’t comforting.

It was off.

He sat up slowly, causing Riki to blink awake with a quiet hum of protest.

“Something’s wrong,” Sunoo said.

Riki sat up, confused. “What?”

“I don’t know.” Sunoo swung his legs over the bed, bare feet touching the floor. “Just… something.”

He opened the door.

And the hallway was silent. Still. Dim.

Too dim.

Sunoo walked slowly, heart racing with a tension he couldn’t name. When he stepped into the living room, all six members turned at once—some seated, some standing. Their eyes were wide. Alert.

Like they’d seen a ghost.

“…Did something happen?” he asked.

No one spoke.

Not right away.

Jake stood, walking to him quickly. “You should sit down.”

Sunoo backed up a step. “No. No more sitting down. Tell me.”

Heeseung rubbed the back of his neck. “We found… more. Another message.”

Sunoo’s breath hitched. “In my room?”

“No,” Jay said carefully. “The kitchen. And under the table. And… a photo.”

Sunoo’s mouth was dry. “Of what?”

They hesitated.

“Of you,” Jungwon said quietly. “Last night.”

Sunoo didn’t cry.

He didn’t scream.

He just stood there, surrounded by the people he loved more than anything—and felt nothing.

Silence surged in again, this time within him. A sharp, eerie kind of quiet. His fingers trembled.

Riki came out of the hallway, face pale. “What’s going on—?”

Sunoo turned slowly toward him. Then to the others.

“…They’ve been in our house.”

Heeseung nodded solemnly. “Yes.”

“In my room.”

“Yes.”

Sunoo’s knees gave out.

Riki ran to catch him, pulling him into his arms as the others surged forward. Jake dropped beside them, brushing Sunoo’s hair back while Sunghoon held onto his hand.

Sunoo wasn’t crying.

He couldn’t.

There was just nothing.

Like all his emotions had been drained.

-

Two hours later.

The sky had darkened into a heavy blue, the stars just beginning to emerge behind the clouds that drifted like ghosts. The dorm was quiet again, but now it felt forced. Manufactured. No one dared speak above a murmur.

Sunoo had spent those two hours wrapped in the quiet hum of the others—Heeseung typing rapidly on his phone, Jay talking to management, Jungwon pacing in and out of the kitchen. They were doing everything they could to respond, to react, to protect.

And maybe that’s what made Sunoo feel the most helpless.

The others were doing, and he was recovering.

So when he quietly asked Jungwon if he could go grab some snacks—alone—for “fresh air,” he had fully expected the leader to say no.

But Jungwon had paused. Looked at him for a long, unreadable moment.

And then he’d said, “…Okay. Just text me every five minutes.”

7:46 PM

The bell over the convenience store door jingled softly as Sunoo stepped inside, tucking his mask up a little higher over his nose. He kept his hood on. The cashier barely looked up—probably assumed he was another high schooler stopping by for a late snack run.

The fluorescent lights flickered once.

Sunoo blinked.

Just a light issue.

He moved down the aisles slowly, grabbing a bag of shrimp chips, a pack of gum, and his favorite banana milk from the fridge. The cold from the cooler fogged the glass slightly, and for a second—

He froze.

Behind him. Reflected faintly in the foggy surface.

A shape.

Tall. Still. Just out of focus.

He turned around fast.

Empty aisle.

His heart thudded.

He quickly grabbed the drink and made his way to the counter, tapping his phone to the reader with shaky hands. He didn’t look up again.

The moment he stepped outside, the air felt wrong.

Too cold.

Too silent.

He began walking faster. The snacks rustled in the plastic bag clutched in his hand, and he hugged it to his chest like a shield.

Text Jungwon.

Text Jungwon now.

He fumbled for his phone, thumbs shaking.

Then he heard it.

A second set of footsteps.

He froze. Turned.

Nothing.

He walked faster.

And the second pair of footsteps quickened too.

He didn’t look back this time.

He ran.

He turned into the back alley shortcut that he and Riki had taken once to avoid fans. He could hear the footsteps behind him now—louder, faster, not even pretending anymore.

He stumbled slightly over uneven pavement, ducking under a low metal railing and twisting around the corner of the building.

And then—

A hand grabbed his hood from behind and yanked him backward.

Sunoo screamed.

He fought. Kicked. The bag of snacks spilled across the pavement, banana milk cracking open and leaking sweetly into the dirt.

The figure didn’t speak.

They didn’t need to.

Their hand clamped over his mouth, another on his waist. Holding. Restraining.

But Sunoo had had enough.

He bit the hand. Hard.

The grip slipped for a second.

He elbowed backwards, landing a hit, and tore free. He scrambled across the pavement, skin tearing on his palms as he reached his phone.

His thumb shook over the lock screen.

A message from Jungwon:

"are you okay? pls answer."

Before he could respond—

A shadow moved again.

And this time, it struck.

A crack of pain exploded across his shoulder as he fell back, head hitting the concrete hard. A sharp ringing filled his ears. He couldn’t see. Couldn’t breathe.

Everything spun.

Silence again.

And then—

Footsteps retreating.

Fast.

Gone.

8:12 PM

Jungwon’s phone rang in his hand, but he didn’t wait for the full dial tone.

“Hello?!”

“Sir,” the convenience store clerk said nervously, “your friend—he left, and I think… he was being followed?”

Jungwon stood. “Where did he go?”

“I think he ran down the back street near the school—”

He hung up mid-sentence.

“EVERYONE UP. NOW.”

He didn’t need to say more.

Chairs scraped back. Jackets thrown on. Keys grabbed.

Six members sprinted into the night.

-

The streetlight buzzed overhead, flickering like a faulty heartbeat as Sunoo lay half-curled on the pavement.

His shoulder burned.

His head ached.

His fingers twitched against the cold ground, reaching for a phone he’d dropped in the scuffle. He could see it—it was so close—but his vision kept going double, spinning in slow, nauseating spirals.

He couldn’t even cry.

He was too tired.

His ears rang with phantom footsteps, distant voices that weren’t there. Or maybe they were. He didn’t know anymore. The world around him had dulled into a hollow hum.

Then, faintly—
A shout.
A real one.

“SUNOO!!”

His eyes fluttered open.

“Hyung…” he mumbled, breath shaky.

Someone skidded into view, knees scraping the gravel beside him.

“Hey, hey, I got you—hey, it’s me—Sunoo, can you hear me?” Jungwon’s voice cracked as his hands hovered over Sunoo’s shoulder. “Don’t move, okay? You’re okay. You’re safe now.”

More footsteps thundered behind them.

Jake dropped to his knees next. “What happened—oh my god—what the hell happened?!”

Jay swore under his breath and immediately took off his jacket, folding it carefully and sliding it under Sunoo’s head. “Don’t let him pass out. Keep him awake.”

“I’m—” Sunoo coughed weakly. “I’m okay… I fought back. I ran. I-I bit them—”

“You what?” Ni-ki nearly shouted. “You fought someone?! You weren’t supposed to be alone—why the hell—!”

“Riki,” Heeseung warned, even though his voice was shaking too.

Riki’s face twisted in panic. “He could’ve died, hyung. Someone should've went with him! We could've- We could've stopped this from happening!”

But everyone had went silent.

Sunghoon was already pulling out his phone, calling the manager, and demanding an ambulance in rapid-fire Korean, trying to keep his voice steady even as his hand trembled.

Jungwon pressed his hand gently over Sunoo’s uninjured side. “You did good, Sunoo. You stayed alive. That’s what matters right now.”

“I didn’t want to worry you…” Sunoo whispered, finally letting a tear slip down his cheek. “I just wanted to be normal again.”

Jake’s hand found his and held it tightly. “You are normal. And you’re ours. That’s never going to change.”

Heeseung crouched beside Jungwon and placed a hand on Sunoo’s forehead, gently brushing away the sweat and blood stuck in his hair. “You’re safe now. We’re here.”

The sirens approached in the distance, but to Sunoo, the sound felt like it was underwater. He blinked slowly, vision darkening at the edges. The adrenaline was crashing.

He was crashing.

Jungwon leaned closer, panic rising again. “No—Sunoo. Stay awake. Please—just a little longer.”

Sunoo gave a faint smile, even as his eyelids began to flutter.

“You’re… loud,” he murmured softly. “I’m just… tired…”

And then his body went slack in Riki’s arms.

Sunoo’s head lolled against Riki’s chest, his breathing shallow.

“Sunoo?”

Riki’s voice cracked.

“Sunoo—wake up. Please—don’t do that, come on—”

“He’s unconscious,” Heeseung said, too calmly. But the way his hands trembled betrayed the storm rising inside him. He quickly shifted, checking Sunoo’s pulse the way their trainer had taught them once during safety drills.

Thump.
Thump.

Still there. Still alive.

But weak.

“He’s okay—he’s okay,” Heeseung breathed, trying to convince everyone, maybe even himself.

Jungwon stood, waving frantically as the sound of sirens neared the alley. “Over here! We’re here!”

The ambulance lights painted the alley in strobing blue and red.

Everything felt like a blur after that.

Two EMTs rushed in with a stretcher. Questions were shouted—
“How long has he been unconscious?”
“Any head trauma?”
“Where’s the wound?”

Jay pointed out the blood blooming under Sunoo’s jacket, at the side of his ribcage. “His shoulder too. He was attacked. We don’t know if it was with a weapon or fists—”

“He hit his head,” Jungwon added, nearly breathless. “Hard. He was—he was still talking until just a minute ago—”

“Get him on the stretcher.”

They moved quickly but carefully. Riki refused to let go until they gently pried his arms off.

“He hates hospitals,” Riki whispered. “He’s gonna be scared when he wakes up.”

Heeseung placed a hand on his shoulder. “He’s not going to wake up alone.”

“Who’s coming with us?” an EMT asked.

“I am,” Jake said instantly.

Jungwon nodded. “Go. We’ll meet you there.”

As the ambulance pulled away, the remaining members stood in the alley, dazed.

The wind had picked up again, rustling the broken snack bag on the pavement. Banana milk soaked into the dirt beneath their feet.

Sunghoon’s jaw was tight, his gaze fixed on the spot where Sunoo had fallen.

“This wasn’t random,” he said finally. “That… that was planned.”

Jungwon nodded grimly. “They knew he’d come here.”

“They knew he’d come alone.”

Silence.

Jay’s voice cut through it. “We’re being watched. Still.”

Ni-ki turned, eyes scanning the rooftops, the alleys, the corners. Every shadow seemed to twitch. Every sound felt too sharp.

He suddenly pointed. “There.”

A faint glint—
A camera lens?
A reflection?

He ran toward it.

But when he got there, only a cracked window.

Empty.

He returned, breathless. “Gone.”

Jungwon pulled out his phone. “Call security. Get every camera near this area pulled up. I want to know how they followed him.”

“And why,” Sunghoon added. “Why tonight. Why him.”

No one said what they were all thinking:

If Sunoo hadn’t fought…
If he hadn’t escaped…
If they’d been just ten minutes later…

Jake’s text came in then.
“He’s stable. They’re running tests. Still unconscious.”

And right under that—
“I’m not leaving him. Don’t worry.”

Riki’s thumbs hovered over his phone for a long time before he sent a message. Just two words:
“thank you.”

The group stood there in the alley a moment longer, unmoving.

Around them, the city moved on.

Cars honked. Neon lights blinked in and out.

But for ENHYPEN, the silence had never felt louder.

---
To Be Continued...

Chapter Text

---

13 Days Until The Concert
The hospital smelled like antiseptic and something faintly floral, like a room that had once been comforting but now only felt sterile and distant. The hallway outside Sunoo’s room was dim, a muted grey from the overhead lights, the kind of quiet that made your skin itch, like something awful had happened and the walls were trying to swallow the memory whole.

Jake sat beside the bed with his head bowed and hands folded tightly in his lap, his leg bouncing nervously even though he was barely aware of it. The monitor beeped steadily. Sunoo’s heartbeat slow, stable, but hauntingly delicate. His hand was wrapped in gauze, an IV taped down neatly across his wrist. His left arm was restrained in a sling. His cheek bore the faintest bruise where it had hit the pavement, and the side of his neck still showed a smudge of dried blood that the nurses had missed. He looked like he’d been through hell, and somehow Jake couldn’t look away.

It had been hours.

Maybe more.

Time felt irrelevant now, as if the entire world had narrowed down to the space between the hospital chair and the bed.

Sunoo hadn’t stirred once.

Jake leaned forward finally, elbows resting on his knees, voice hoarse from lack of use. “You scared the shit out of us, you know?” he whispered, not expecting an answer, just needing to say something to fill the silence. “You always do things like this, shouldering things alone. Trying to protect us from stuff we’d beg you to share.”

He laughed under his breath, short and bitter. “You say you want to be normal… but Sunoo, we don’t want normal. We just want you.” Behind him, the door creaked softly open. Heeseung stepped inside quietly, a takeaway coffee in each hand, the shadows under his eyes darker than ever. “Any change?” Jake shook his head slowly. “Still sleeping.” Heeseung handed him a cup and moved to stand on the other side of the bed. He looked down at Sunoo for a long time, the corners of his lips tight, fists clenched around the coffee as if it were the only thing anchoring him in place.

“I called his mom,” Heeseung said at last. “Didn’t tell her everything, just that there was an incident. That he’s stable. She wanted to come here immediately.”

“Are we letting her?” Heeseung hesitated. “Sunoo always said he didn’t want his family dragged into idol stuff. Said he’d only call her if things got bad.” Jake glanced up. “This is bad.”

“I know.” Heeseung’s jaw clenched. “But we’ll wait. Just until he wakes up. Let him decide.” The door opened again, and Jungwon appeared with Ni-ki trailing behind. Both looked drained, like the weight of leadership and helplessness had settled hard in their chests. “He hasn’t moved?” Jungwon asked, eyes darting toward the monitors. “No,” Jake replied quietly. “But the nurses say everything’s stable. His brain scans were clear. No internal bleeding. Just...resting.”

Ni-ki sat on the floor beside the bed, knees pulled to his chest. “Why would someone do this?” he whispered, voice raw and too quiet. “How could someone hurt him like this and walk away?”

No one had an answer.

Jay and Sunghoon arrived a few minutes later, silent as ghosts. The room became still again, heavy with six heartbeats and one missing. Eventually, Sunghoon reached for Sunoo’s hand. He didn’t say anything, he just held it gently, brushing his thumb over his knuckles the way someone might soothe a sleeping child.

Then, without warning—

Sunoo twitched.

A small, involuntary movement, so small Jake almost thought he imagined it. But then Sunoo’s brows furrowed slightly, and a tiny breath caught in his throat. “Sunoo,” Jake said quickly, leaning closer. “Sunoo. Can you hear me?” Sunoo’s lips parted, dry and chapped, but no sound came out. He blinked slowly, his lashes fluttering like wings learning how to fly again. “Hey,” Jungwon said softly, voice trembling with emotion. “We’re here. You’re safe. You made it.” It took another few seconds, but Sunoo’s eyes finally opened fully. They were dazed, glassy with confusion—but alive.

And then they filled with tears.

“I-I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice rasping like paper. “I didn’t want to scare anyone.”

“Too late for that,” Heeseung muttered, kneeling beside the bed, and for the first time, his voice cracked. “But I’m so glad you’re still here.” Jake pressed Sunoo’s hand against his cheek. “We’ve got you. We’re not going anywhere.” Ni-ki stood, eyes glistening. “Can I…” He cleared his throat. “Can I hug him?”

Sunoo gave the faintest nod.

And one by one, they all leaned in, not crushing, not desperate, just gently, arms layered like a warm blanket over him as if to say: you are ours, and no one is taking you from us again. Outside, the city buzzed on, but inside that tiny hospital room, the only thing that mattered was this:

Sunoo was still here.

He could still feel the ache in his ribs when he tried to breathe too deeply, a dull pain that bloomed each time someone shifted too close or the blankets moved wrong. But it was real. And it meant he was alive. The warmth of his members’ arms still lingered even after the group hug had broken apart, and now it was just quiet again—softer than before. The kind of quiet that followed crying, or prayers, or fear that had nowhere else to go.

His throat hurt when he spoke again. “Did I ruin everything?” Jay looked up sharply from where he was pacing near the window. “What?” Sunoo blinked slowly. “The comeback. The tour. I-I was just trying to not be a burden. I didn’t want this to happen. I didn’t think they’d actually…”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Jungwon said, firm but not harsh, his voice steadier than any of them felt. “You were attacked, Sunoo hyung. The only person who ruined something is the one who touched you.”

“Besides,” Sunghoon added, “we’d cancel a thousand comebacks if it meant keeping you safe.” Sunoo’s fingers gripped the edge of the hospital blanket, knuckles going white. “But how did they know where I’d be? I didn’t tell anyone I was going out alone. I didn’t even know I’d go until I left.” That made the air turn colder. Heeseung stepped away from the wall and crossed his arms, eyes narrowing. “That’s what we’ve been trying to figure out. I checked every camera, every hallway clip from the building. The dorm’s security logs showed nothing. But the way they timed it, the corner of that alley, the silence, it’s like they knew your exact path.”

Sunoo’s heart skipped. “Then… you think they’re in the dorm?”

“No,” Ni-ki said quickly, maybe too quickly. “They can’t be. We’ve been checking everything. Every room. Every outlet. Every inch of our schedules. No one got in.”

“But someone watched.” Sunghoon’s voice was low, quiet in a dangerous way. “That fan account had pictures that none of us posted. Of you in your room. Of us in the kitchen. And that message under the dining table wasn’t old, it was fresh.” Jay turned back toward the bed, jaw clenched. “They’re close. And they're getting bold.” Sunoo’s hand drifted up to touch the side of his ribs where the bandages were thickest. He winced. “They knew exactly where to hit me. They didn’t even say anything. Just, just grabbed me and shoved me into the wall. I didn’t see their face. Only their hand. There was something written on their sleeve.”

The others went still.

“What did it say?” Heeseung asked slowly. Sunoo closed his eyes, trying to visualize it again. “It was fast. I only caught part of it. Something like… ‘Still Ours.’” Jake exhaled like he’d been punched. Jungwon stood, reaching for his phone. “I need to call the manager. This is bigger than us now.”

“Wait,” Sunoo said weakly. “Can we-can we just stay here a little longer? Like this?” He gestured toward them. “Together.” And just like that, the moment broke into something softer.

Jay nodded first, dragging the armchair closer to the bed. “Of course. We’re not going anywhere.”

One by one, they settled in. Ni-ki curled up at the foot of the bed, Sunghoon leaned back against the wall, Heeseung and Jake trading quiet glances as they sat on either side. Jungwon lowered his phone, hesitating, then sighed and put it away, just for now. The silence returned again. But this time, it was full of breath. Of presence. Of a promise unspoken but deeply understood. Sunoo didn’t say anything else. He just closed his eyes. And even though he was still hurting, physically, emotionally, in ways he hadn’t even begun to name yet, he felt safe. For the first time in days, maybe weeks.

And in that quiet, something settled deep in their chests:

They would protect each other.

No matter what came next.

---
12 Days Until The Concert

Two days later, the doors to the hospital slid open, and Sunoo stepped out into the world again.

The air hit him like a whisper, soft but heavy. Even the summer sun felt different on his skin now, as if it were testing him. He stood still for a second just outside the hospital doors, staring at the parked van, at the members standing beside it with too careful smiles, and tried to remember how to act normal again. His ribs still ached. His right side throbbed if he moved too fast or laughed too hard. But the pain wasn’t the problem. It was the silence inside him, the same one that had been building since the first note, the first shadow, the first click of a camera from a place it shouldn’t have been.

“Ready?” Jungwon asked gently, reaching out a hand without rushing him. Sunoo gave a small nod and took it.

The ride back to the dorm was quiet, not in a bad way, but in the way people go silent when there’s too much to say and not enough courage to say it. Heeseung drove slower than usual. Sunghoon kept glancing at him through the rearview mirror, like he was afraid Sunoo would disappear if he blinked too long. Inside the van, Jake slid his hand into Sunoo’s without a word and gave it a small squeeze.

Ni-ki rested his head on Sunoo’s shoulder halfway through the ride, a quiet weight, safe and grounding. By the time they reached the dorm, the sun had shifted past its brightest point, and the shadows stretched long over the pavement. They took the back entrance this time, less exposure, less risk. Someone had already wiped the keypad down three times that morning just to be safe.

The second the door opened, a wave of familiar warmth hit Sunoo: the smell of their detergent, the faint scent of Jay’s coffee, someone’s fabric softener, the hum of the AC kicking on and off. But something was different too. Every camera in the dorm now had a red light blinking softly, upgraded and watched in real time. All the windows had fresh locks. He noticed it instantly, every precaution. Every sign that his pain had changed something for all of them.

As he stepped inside, someone had left slippers waiting by the entrance. His slippers. His favorite pair.

And a note taped to the wall that simply read:
Welcome Home, Sunoo.
— ☀️

He blinked once. Twice. He didn’t have to ask. That sun doodle was Ni-ki’s.

“Can I lie down for a bit?” he asked softly. “Of course,” Jay said, already stepping past him to open his bedroom door like it was muscle memory. “I freshened up your sheets. No cameras, no bugs. We checked every corner again.”

“Thanks.”

Sunoo’s room smelled like lavender fabric spray. Someone had opened the window just enough to let in a breeze. His plushies were lined up at the edge of his bed like they’d been waiting. Jake hovered in the doorway. “Want company?” Sunoo hesitated, then nodded. “Just a little.” Jake followed him in quietly, closing the door behind them. Sunoo climbed into bed and pulled the blanket up to his chest. The familiar pressure of his mattress under him, the pillows arranged just how he liked. These were things he didn’t know he missed until he felt them again.

Jake sat beside him, legs tucked up. “How are you really?”

“I don’t know,” Sunoo whispered. “I’m scared. But… I missed this. You guys. This place. I don’t want them to take it away from me.” Jake didn’t respond right away. He reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind Sunoo’s ear. “They won’t. We’ll never let them.” Outside, Sunghoon laughed at something Ni-ki said in the kitchen. Jay was already arguing with Heeseung over dinner plans. Jungwon’s voice was calm as he checked the back door lock again.

Normal things. Soft things. Real things.

Sunoo let his eyes fall shut, finally letting his body relax. And for the first time since that alley, since the pain, the fear, the flash of movement in the dark—he felt like he might be okay again.

Not right away. Not completely.

But eventually.

-
The quiet between them wasn’t awkward. It was soft, lived-in, something unspoken but understood. Jake hadn’t moved since he asked how Sunoo was, and now he sat there, watching him like one does a fragile dream, scared even breathing too hard might shatter it. Sunoo laid back against the pillows, blinking slowly, exhaustion etched into every part of his face. But beneath it all, there was a softness in his eyes that only surfaced when he was safe, when he knew he was loved.

Jake reached for his hand again, slower this time, his thumb brushing along the back of Sunoo’s knuckles. “You’re really here,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone. Sunoo nodded faintly. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For scaring you,” he said, eyes glassy. “For going out alone. For getting hurt.” Jake gave a shaky breath, but there was no anger in it. Only overwhelming relief. “Don’t say sorry for surviving.” Silence again. Then Sunoo’s fingers twitched, turning in Jake’s hold so their palms pressed together. “I’m glad it was you in here,” he whispered. “Right now.” Jake looked down at their hands. “I’ll always be the one here, Sunoo. No matter what.”

There was a beat.

Then, with a kind of tentative courage that only comes after surviving something terrible, Sunoo shifted up slightly, his fingers tugging gently at Jake’s hoodie sleeve. “Can I kiss you?” Jake blinked, just once, then leaned in without hesitation. Their lips met like a sigh, like relief, like the gentle exhale after holding your breath for too long. It wasn’t rushed or deep, it was soft. Careful. Reverent.

Jake’s hand moved to cradle Sunoo’s cheek, his thumb brushing lightly beneath his eye. Sunoo’s own fingers curled into the front of Jake’s hoodie, holding onto him like he was the only real thing in the world. They kissed again. And again. Slow, sweet presses of lips between shared breaths and the faint hum of the city beyond the window. Jake kissed him like he was memorizing his warmth. Sunoo kissed back like he was trying to come back to life.

When they finally parted, Jake leaned his forehead against Sunoo’s. “I was so scared,” he whispered. “I know,” Sunoo whispered back. “Me too.” Jake let his arms wrap around him fully then, pulling Sunoo into his chest. “But you’re here. And I’ve got you. And I’m not letting go.” Sunoo melted into the embrace, letting himself be held, letting himself believe it.

Outside the room, the dorm was alive with gentle conversation and the occasional clatter of pots and pans. But in here, time slowed to a crawl, and in Jake’s arms, Sunoo allowed himself to feel peace.

Not because the danger was over. But because love like this made him brave enough to keep going.

---
To Be Continued...

Chapter Text

---
Ni-ki + Sunoo

Sunoo had barely made it to the couch before Ni-ki was already padding over from the kitchen, socks sliding slightly against the floor. His hair was messy, sticking up like he’d just woken from a nap, but his eyes were sharp and soft at the same time like he’d been waiting for this exact moment.

“You’re not supposed to walk around too much,” Ni-ki murmured, a faint pout pulling at his lips as he flopped down beside Sunoo. The younger didn’t hesitate to tuck himself close, knees curling up while his long arm reached behind Sunoo’s shoulders to draw him in. “I’m fine,” Sunoo replied, but his voice carried no real resistance. The truth was, it felt nice being pulled into Ni-ki’s warmth like this. For a while, they didn’t talk. Ni-ki’s hand rested lightly on Sunoo’s arm, thumb brushing slowly back and forth in an absent rhythm. It was strange how the youngest could sometimes feel like the most protective quiet in his watch, but fiercely present.

“You scared us,” Ni-ki said suddenly, his voice quieter now. “Me. I didn’t… like it.” His words were blunt, but they trembled just slightly, and Sunoo’s chest squeezed. “I’m sorry,” Sunoo whispered, leaning his head against Ni-ki’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean to.” Ni-ki’s arm tightened just a fraction. “I know. But still… I don’t like seeing you hurt.” Sunoo tilted his head slightly to glance at him, a faint smile tugging at his lips despite the heaviness in his chest. “You’re starting to sound like Jungwon.”

Ni-ki huffed, his lips twitching into something halfway between a pout and a smirk. “I’m better than Jungwon hyung. He nags. I just… care.”

“You’re still nagging,” Sunoo teased gently, but his voice was warm, the kind that came from feeling safe. The younger sighed, leaning back a little while keeping his arm firmly around Sunoo. “Okay, fine. Maybe I am nagging. But you can’t just… go wandering around alone like that again. Not after—” His voice cut off, as if the memory itself caught in his throat. Sunoo softened instantly, his hand moving to rest over Ni-ki’s where it held him. “Hey,” he murmured, “I’m here now. I’m okay. You don’t have to worry so much.”

“That’s the problem,” Ni-ki said quietly, his gaze fixed on the floor. “I can’t just turn it off. You’re my hyung. And I know I joke around a lot, but… you matter to me, Sunoo hyung. A lot more than I say.” Sunoo’s smile faded into something more tender, his eyes stinging faintly. “You’re going to make me cry.”

“Good,” Ni-ki replied with a small laugh, his voice breaking the tension for just a moment. “Then you’ll know how I felt.” Sunoo let out a soft laugh too, the sound mingling with something deeper gratitude, maybe even relief. “You’re a good little maknae, Ni-ki.” The younger hummed, pretending to shrug it off, but the way his arm pulled Sunoo closer told the real story. “And you’re my annoying hyung. Don’t get hurt again.”

“I’ll try,” Sunoo promised quietly. “You’d better,” Ni-ki muttered, but his hand stayed in place, fingers curling just slightly against Sunoo’s sleeve as though anchoring him there.

---
Jungwon + Sunoo

Jungwon had been hovering quietly around Sunoo ever since he came home, his usual leader composure slipping into something more vulnerable when no one else was watching. Tonight was no different. He found Sunoo curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over his legs, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm halo around him. Without a word, Jungwon eased down beside him, his hand brushing gently against Sunoo’s knee before resting there. “You should be in bed,” he murmured, his voice low and tinged with concern.

Sunoo looked up, lips twitching in a small smile. “And miss you checking on me every five minutes? No thanks.” Jungwon huffed a soft laugh, leaning closer until their shoulders touched. “I’m not that bad.”

“You are,” Sunoo teased, but his tone was fond. “You’ve been following me around like a shadow since I got back.” Jungwon’s gaze softened, and for a moment he didn’t respond, just studied him like he was memorizing every detail. “I was scared,” he admitted finally. “When you didn’t come back that night… I thought…” His voice faltered, and he shook his head. “I can’t lose you, hyung.” The words hung heavy in the quiet, and Sunoo’s heart clenched. He reached up, cupping Jungwon’s cheek with warm fingers. “You’re not going to lose me,” he whispered, leaning in until their foreheads rested together.

Jungwon’s lips curved into the smallest, saddest smile before he closed the gap, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against Sunoo’s mouth. It wasn’t urgent or desperate, just a steady, grounding connection that said more than words could. When they pulled back, Sunoo let his hand slip down to lace their fingers together. “You can keep following me around,” he said lightly, “but only if you give me kisses like that more often.” Jungwon’s cheeks flushed, but he didn’t look away. “Deal,” Jungwon said, his voice a little steadier now, though his thumb was still brushing over Sunoo’s knuckles like he was reassuring himself that he was really there.

Sunoo tilted his head, watching him with a faint smile. “You’re really bad at hiding when you’re worried, you know that?”

“I’m not trying to hide it,” Jungwon replied honestly, his eyes locking onto Sunoo’s. “I just… I keep thinking about what would’ve happened if you didn’t make it back. And every time I do, it feels like my chest tightens so much I can’t breathe.” Sunoo’s smile faltered, his own chest aching at the thought. “Hey,” he whispered, shifting closer until his legs brushed Jungwon’s. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I know what happened was scary, but you don’t have to carry it alone.” Jungwon’s brows knit together. “You say that like it’s easy to stop worrying.”

“It’s not,” Sunoo admitted, squeezing his hand. “But if you keep holding onto that fear, it’s just going to hurt you more than it helps me.” Jungwon let out a slow exhale, his shoulders loosening just a little. “You always know exactly what to say, don’t you?” Sunoo’s lips curved into a soft grin. “I like to think so. It’s one of my charms.” That earned a quiet chuckle from Jungwon, who leaned in to press another kiss to Sunoo’s temple this time, lingering just long enough for the warmth to seep into him. “You’re impossible,” he murmured, but there was no bite in his tone, only affection.

“And yet,” Sunoo teased, “you’re still dating me.”

Jungwon gave a mock sigh. “Guess I’m stuck with you.”

Sunoo rested his head against his shoulder, their fingers still intertwined. “Good. Because I’m not letting you go either.”

For a while, they stayed like that in the stillness, the quiet hum of the lamp filling the space between their words, both of them silently promising the same thing, they weren’t going to lose each other.

---
Sunghoon + Sunoo

The next day, the air in the dorm felt quieter, but not in a bad way, more like the kind of stillness that settles after a storm. Sunoo was curled up on the couch with a blanket draped over his legs, flipping idly through a magazine, when the cushion beside him dipped. Without even looking, he knew who it was. “You walk too quietly,” he murmured. Sunghoon’s lips curved into the faintest smirk. “Or maybe you’re just too distracted.” He set a steaming mug of tea on the coffee table in front of Sunoo before leaning back, his arm naturally resting against the back of the couch, almost behind Sunoo’s shoulders. Sunoo glanced at the tea, then up at him. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” Sunghoon replied simply, his eyes softer than his usual calm exterior let on. “You’ve been through enough. Let someone take care of you for once.” That made Sunoo’s chest warm in a way he wasn’t expecting. “You’ve been… quieter than usual since it happened,” he said, tilting his head slightly to catch Sunghoon’s gaze. Sunghoon hesitated, his thumb brushing idly along the couch fabric. “Because I’m angry.” Sunoo blinked. “At me?”

“No.” His voice was firm, certain. “At whoever did this. At the fact that I wasn’t there to stop it. And maybe… at myself, for not making sure you were safe.” Sunoo’s expression softened, and he reached out, placing his hand over Sunghoon’s. “It’s not your fault.” Sunghoon looked at their joined hands for a long moment before murmuring, “I know. But it still feels like I failed you.” Sunoo shifted closer, leaning his head against Sunghoon’s shoulder. “Then let me make it easier for you. I’m okay. You’re here now, and that’s all I need.”

For a while, neither of them spoke, the faint sound of the rain outside filling the room. Eventually, Sunghoon turned his head, pressing a kiss to Sunoo’s hair, lingering like he wasn’t ready to let go.

“You’re too important to me,” he whispered.

Sunoo smiled into his shoulder. “Good. Keep it that way.”

Sunghoon didn’t move his arm from behind Sunoo, letting the younger rest there as long as he wanted. His gaze stayed fixed ahead, but there was a tension in his jaw that hadn’t eased since that night. “You know,” Sunoo said quietly, “you’re allowed to smile, right?”

“I’m smiling on the inside,” Sunghoon replied, his tone dry but not cold. Sunoo tilted his head up just enough to meet his eyes. “Then maybe you should let the outside catch up. You look like you’re plotting someone’s downfall.”

“Maybe I am,” Sunghoon muttered, only half joking. “If I ever find out who hurt you—” He cut himself off, exhaling slowly, his fingers brushing against Sunoo’s shoulder as if to ground himself. “Let’s just say they wouldn’t have a good day.” Sunoo’s lips twitched in a small smile, though his voice stayed gentle. “You’re not supposed to get in trouble for me.” Sunghoon looked at him fully this time, his dark eyes steady. “You think I care about trouble?” He paused, then added softer, “When it comes to you, I don’t.” That left Sunoo a little breathless, not because of the words themselves, but because of the way Sunghoon said them, like they were carved in stone.

“You’re too intense,” Sunoo teased weakly, trying to keep the mood light, but his cheeks were already warm. Sunghoon leaned in, their foreheads almost touching. “And you love it.” Sunoo rolled his eyes, but didn’t move away. “Maybe.” They sat like that for a moment, the space between them filled with unspoken promises. Then, almost without thinking, Sunghoon reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind Sunoo’s ear, his fingertips lingering against his skin.

“You scared me,” he admitted quietly.

Sunoo’s hand came up to cover his. “I’m still here.”

Sunghoon gave the smallest of nods, then leaned forward, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to Sunoo’s lips. It wasn’t rushed or heated, just steady, like he was memorizing the moment.

When they pulled back, Sunghoon rested his forehead against Sunoo’s again. “Good. Stay here.”

---
Jake + Sunoo

Jake found Sunoo curled up in the corner of the couch, legs tucked beneath a blanket, a soft hum slipping past his lips as he absentmindedly scrolled on his phone. “You’re stealing my spot,” Jake teased lightly as he walked over, but there was no bite in his voice, just the kind of fondness that always gave him away. Sunoo looked up with a tiny smile. “Your spot is wherever I let you sit.” Jake chuckled, dropping down beside him without asking for space. The couch dipped, and Sunoo naturally leaned into him, like gravity had decided they belonged closer. “Guess I’ll just have to earn my place, then,” Jake said, wrapping an arm loosely around Sunoo’s waist.

“You already have it,” Sunoo murmured, leaning his head against Jake’s shoulder. “You’ve always had it.” Jake stilled for a second, caught off guard by the sincerity. Then, softer, “You can’t just say things like that without warning.”

“Why not?” Sunoo asked, tilting his head slightly to look at him. “Because,” Jake replied, brushing his thumb gently against Sunoo’s side, “then I’ll want to kiss you, and I’m trying to be good.” Sunoo smirked faintly. “Who says you have to be?” Jake let out a low laugh, then turned his body toward him fully. His hand came up to cradle Sunoo’s jaw, the warmth of his palm making Sunoo’s breath hitch. “You really want me to?”

Sunoo didn’t answer, he just leaned forward, closing the space between them. The kiss was slow and unhurried, the kind that spoke more than words could. Jake’s other hand came up to rest against Sunoo’s back, pulling him closer until there was barely any space left at all. When they finally parted, Jake’s forehead stayed pressed to his. “Don’t do that again,” he whispered.

“What?” Sunoo asked softly. “Scare me like that,” Jake said, his voice carrying a thread of vulnerability he rarely let show. “You’re… you’re too important.” Sunoo’s chest tightened, his hand brushing over Jake’s cheek. “I’ll try my best,” he promised, the words carrying a weight they both understood. Jake kissed him once more, shorter but just as full of feeling, before pulling him fully into his arms, letting Sunoo melt against him like they were meant to fit there.

Jake didn’t let go right away, his arms staying firm around Sunoo like he was afraid letting go would make him disappear again. “You know,” he murmured into Sunoo’s hair, “I kept thinking about what would’ve happened if we didn’t find you in time.”

Sunoo’s brows pulled together slightly, but he didn’t lift his head. “Jake…”

“I’m serious,” Jake said quietly, pulling back just enough to look at him. “It’s been two days and I still keep replaying it in my head. You lying there, not moving—” His voice faltered, and he broke eye contact, swallowing hard. Sunoo reached up, lightly touching Jake’s jaw. “Hey. Look at me.”

Jake’s eyes met his reluctantly.

“I’m here,” Sunoo said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’m breathing, I’m talking to you, I’m sitting right here in your arms. That’s all that matters now, okay?” Jake exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing just a little. “You make it sound so simple.”

“That’s because it is,” Sunoo replied softly. “If I kept thinking about what could’ve happened, I’d never be able to move forward. And I don’t want to get stuck in that. Not when I have you. Not when I have all of you.” Jake’s mouth curved into the faintest smile, though it didn’t fully reach his eyes yet. “You’re too good at making me feel better.”

“Maybe I like making you feel better,” Sunoo teased gently, brushing a strand of hair away from Jake’s forehead. Jake’s smirk returned in full. “Careful. I might get used to it.”

“Maybe you should,” Sunoo said without missing a beat. Jake let out a low chuckle, shaking his head before leaning in for another kiss, this one a little deeper, his thumb brushing slow circles against Sunoo’s side. “You’re dangerous, you know that?” he whispered against Sunoo’s lips. Sunoo smiled into the kiss. “Only for you.” Jake groaned playfully, pulling him even closer until Sunoo was practically sitting in his lap. “Okay, now you’re definitely not getting rid of me.”

“Good,” Sunoo murmured, his voice soft but steady. “I never wanted to.”

Jake kissed him again, longer this time, sealing the words between them.

---
Jay + Sunoo

The quiet hum of the air conditioner was the only sound in Sunoo’s room as he sat cross-legged on his bed, scrolling absentmindedly through his phone. The soft weight of his blanket was draped loosely over his lap, and the evening light spilling through the curtains bathed everything in a warm, golden hue. He didn’t even hear the door creak open until a familiar voice broke the silence.

“Hey,” Jay said softly, leaning against the doorframe with his hands tucked into his hoodie pocket. “Mind if I come in?” Sunoo looked up, his lips curving into a faint smile. “You never have to ask.” Jay stepped inside, closing the door behind him before making his way over. He sat down beside Sunoo without a word, the mattress dipping under his weight. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just reached out to take Sunoo’s hand, his thumb brushing lazily over the back of it.

“You’ve been quiet today,” Jay said after a beat, his gaze searching Sunoo’s face. “I guess I’ve just been… thinking,” Sunoo admitted, his voice light but a little tired. “Everything still feels a little unreal.” Jay hummed low in his throat, squeezing his hand gently. “I know. And I don’t blame you. You’ve been through a lot. I just… I hate that I couldn’t protect you.”

Sunoo turned his head sharply, his eyes meeting Jay’s with quiet insistence. “Jay, you did. All of you did. I’m still here because of you.” Jay’s expression softened, though a faint crease remained between his brows. “Still… I wish I could’ve done more.”

“You’re already doing more than enough,” Sunoo replied, shifting closer until their knees touched. “You’re here, you’re holding my hand, and you’re looking at me like I’m the most important thing in the world. That’s more than enough.” Jay’s lips curved into a small, almost shy smile. “Well… you are the most important thing in the world. At least to me.” The words made Sunoo’s chest feel warm in a way that was different from the hospital blankets and medicine, it was deeper, quieter, and far more comforting. He leaned his head against Jay’s shoulder, the steady rhythm of Jay’s breathing grounding him.

Jay pressed a kiss to the crown of Sunoo’s head, lingering there for a moment. “I’m glad you’re here,” he murmured.

“I’m glad you’re here too,” Sunoo whispered back, his fingers tightening slightly around Jay’s.

Jay tilted his head just enough to catch Sunoo’s eyes, his voice dropping lower. “You have no idea how much I worried about you. I kept thinking… what if I lost you?” Sunoo’s brows drew together, his voice soft but firm. “You’re not going to lose me. Not now, not ever.” Jay let out a quiet, almost shaky laugh. “You say that like you can promise it.”

“I can,” Sunoo replied without hesitation. “Because I’m not going anywhere. Even when things hurt, even when it’s scary… I’m staying. With you.” That simple certainty seemed to break something in Jay’s guarded composure. He lifted their joined hands, pressing a kiss to Sunoo’s knuckles and letting his lips linger there. “You’re too good to me, you know that?” Sunoo gave a tiny smile. “Maybe. But you’re worth it.”

Jay chuckled under his breath, though his gaze stayed tender. “You’re worth everything to me, Sunoo. I’d walk through fire for you.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I’m not planning on setting anything on fire,” Sunoo teased softly, his tone lightening just enough to make Jay grin. “Don’t tempt me,” Jay murmured, brushing his thumb along the side of Sunoo’s hand again. “But really… I’m proud of you. For getting through this, for still smiling, for still… being you.” Sunoo’s smile faltered into something softer, more vulnerable. “It’s easier to smile when you’re the one looking at me.”

Jay leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, slow, lingering, and full of quiet promises neither of them needed to say out loud. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against Sunoo’s. “Then I’ll keep looking at you. Always.”

“Good,” Sunoo whispered, closing his eyes for a moment, feeling the steady warmth of Jay’s presence wrap around him like a second blanket. “Because I like the way you see me.”

---
Heeseung + Sunoo

Sunoo was curled up on the couch this time, legs tucked beneath him, idly flipping through a magazine without really reading it. The quiet hum of the living room was broken only by the sound of someone approaching, and when he looked up, Heeseung was there, holding two mugs of steaming tea. “Thought you might want something warm,” Heeseung said with that easy smile of his, setting one mug in front of Sunoo before taking the seat beside him.

Sunoo accepted it with both hands, the heat instantly seeping into his fingers. “Thanks, Hee. You didn’t have to.”

“I know,” Heeseung replied, leaning back slightly so he could watch Sunoo more closely. “But I wanted to. You’ve been through enough lately, you deserve all the small comforts.” Sunoo’s lips curved upward, though the warmth in his chest had nothing to do with the tea. “You always know what to say to make me feel cared for.”

“That’s because I pay attention,” Heeseung said simply, his tone gentle but sincere. “I notice when you’re quiet in a different way, when you’re trying to keep your smile in place even though you’re tired.” Sunoo’s fingers paused on the mug. “And what do you do when you notice that?” Heeseung didn’t even hesitate. “I make sure you know you’re not alone. Whether that’s bringing tea, sitting with you, or just listening. You don’t need to be strong all the time, Sunoo.”

The words settled into Sunoo like a soft blanket. He turned his gaze toward Heeseung, eyes glimmering with gratitude. “You make it easy to let my guard down.”

“That’s the goal,” Heeseung murmured, his lips tugging into a small smile. Then, in a quiet, almost shy motion, he reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind Sunoo’s ear. “You’re important to me. More than you realize.” Sunoo’s breath caught slightly, his voice just above a whisper. “I think I’m starting to realize it.” Heeseung chuckled softly before leaning forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Sunoo’s temple. “Good. Because I plan on reminding you every day.”

Sunoo’s cheeks warmed, but he didn’t look away. “Then I guess I’ll have to keep sticking around so you can.”

“You better,” Heeseung teased lightly, but his eyes softened, his gaze lingering on Sunoo like he was memorizing the moment.

Sunoo let the warmth between them linger, sipping his tea slowly just to keep his hands from fidgeting. “You know… I used to think you were hard to read,” he admitted quietly, his eyes drifting to the steam rising from his mug. “But now it feels like you’re one of the easiest people to understand.” Heeseung tilted his head, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “And what’s your read on me now?”

“That you care a lot more than you let on,” Sunoo replied without missing a beat. “You’re subtle about it, but it’s there. Always.” Heeseung’s expression softened. “I guess I just… don’t want to overwhelm you. You’ve been carrying enough already, and I never wanted my feelings to feel like another weight.”

“They don’t,” Sunoo said quickly, setting his tea down so he could look at him fully. “If anything, they make me feel lighter. You make me feel lighter.” Heeseung’s gaze held his for a long, quiet moment before he chuckled softly. “You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear that.” Sunoo’s lips curved into a smile, faint but real. “Maybe I do have an idea. I see it in the way you look at me.” Heeseung raised a brow. “And how do I look at you?”

“Like I’m… worth staying for,” Sunoo murmured, almost shyly. That made Heeseung’s breath hitch, his usual easy demeanor flickering into something more vulnerable. “That’s because you are. You’ve always been worth staying for, Sunoo. I just hope you know I’m not going anywhere.”

Sunoo’s heart thudded at the quiet conviction in his voice. “Then… I think I can start believing it.”

Heeseung reached over, his fingers brushing lightly against Sunoo’s before curling around them. “Good. That’s all I want, for you to believe it.”

---
Everyone + Sunoo

The living room was bathed in a soft evening glow, the golden light of the setting sun spilling through the curtains and painting everything in warm tones, as if the world itself had decided to wrap them in comfort. The seven of them were gathered on the couches and the rug, blankets draped over laps, mugs of tea and hot chocolate sitting half-finished on the coffee table. Sunoo was seated between Jake and Jungwon, his legs tucked under him, a blanket pooled around his shoulders while the others formed a protective half-circle around him as if their presence alone could ward off the memory of the attack.

“We need to talk about what happened,” Heeseung began, his voice steady but gentle, as though he were afraid to stir the air too roughly. “Not to make you relive it, Sunoo, but so we can all make sure it never happens again.” Sunoo’s eyes lowered, his fingers knotting in the edge of the blanket, but Jake gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “We’re not here to push you,” Jake added softly. “We just… want you to know we’re listening. Always.”

Jay leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze fixed on Sunoo with quiet determination. “You’re not facing this alone. We’ve got your back, every second, every day, no matter what it takes.” Ni-ki shifted closer on the rug, leaning his chin on Sunoo’s knee like a younger cat curling into warmth. “And I’m not letting you go anywhere without me for a while,” he said stubbornly, though the softness in his voice betrayed his worry.

Jungwon smiled faintly and brushed a piece of hair away from Sunoo’s eyes. “We’re going to make sure you’re safe, hyung. All of us. That’s not up for debate.” Sunghoon, sitting just across from him, tilted his head and gave one of his small, rare smiles, the kind he only pulled out when he wanted Sunoo to know he meant something. “You’re important to me,” he said simply, but the weight behind it was undeniable. “To all of us.”

Heeseung reached over, his long arm wrapping briefly around Sunoo’s shoulders in a firm, grounding squeeze. “We love you, Sunoo. I hope you never forget that, even when things feel heavy.” Sunoo swallowed, the lump in his throat making his voice come out softer than he intended. “I… I know you do. And I love you too. I just, sometimes I forget I’m allowed to lean on you.” Jake’s voice was low and unwavering when he said, “Then lean all you want. We’ll hold you up, every single time.”

The conversation softened after that, drifting into light teasing and shared laughter as the tension began to ease, the air filling with a sense of safety that had been missing for days. By the time the night deepened and the living room was dim except for the warm lamp in the corner, Sunoo found himself tucked into the middle of them all, Jake’s arm slung around his shoulders, Ni-ki leaning against his side, Jungwon curled up with his head resting on Sunoo’s thigh, and the others sitting close enough that their knees touched. Surrounded by them like this, hearing their voices overlapping in quiet affection, Sunoo felt something loosen inside him, as if the silence that had once engulfed him had finally given way to the steady hum of love.

Jake gave Sunoo’s shoulder a little squeeze, his voice warm and teasing. “You know, you don’t get to escape movie nights anymore. If I have to sit through Jungwon’s choice of cheesy romcoms, you have to suffer with me.”

“I don’t even pick bad movies,” Jungwon mumbled, his head still resting comfortably on Sunoo’s thigh. He glanced up with a soft grin. “But I’ll pick something you like next time, hyung. Just for you.”

“Something without explosions,” Jay added, smirking. “Or dancing penguins. We all know what Ni-ki’s vote will be.” Ni-ki, not even lifting his head from Sunoo’s side, hummed in protest. “Dancing penguins are peak cinema. Don’t disrespect.” Sunghoon chuckled quietly, leaning back into the couch. “Fine, but Sunoo gets the final say. He deserves it after this week.” His eyes softened as they met Sunoo’s, the kind of look that didn’t need words to say I’m glad you’re okay.

Heeseung took a sip from his cooling tea and set the mug down with a quiet clink. “You know, all jokes aside, this is how it’s going to be now,” he said. “You’ll never have to guess if you’re important to us. We’ll keep reminding you until you’re sick of hearing it.” Sunoo gave a small laugh, the tension in his chest loosening with each passing moment. “I don’t think I could ever get sick of it,” he admitted, glancing around at each of them in turn. “It feels… good. Safe.”

“That’s the point,” Jake said softly, nudging him again. “You’re not just part of us, you’re ours. We’re not letting you forget that.”

The room fell into a comfortable quiet after that, the only sounds the rustle of blankets and the soft hum of the heater. Ni-ki was already half-asleep, Jungwon’s breathing had slowed, and Jake’s hand stayed steady on Sunoo’s shoulder, thumb rubbing absentminded circles.

Surrounded like this—by their warmth, their voices, their unwavering presence—Sunoo realized he didn’t just feel loved. He felt home.

---
To Be Continued...

Chapter Text

---
11 Days Until The Concert

The smell of toasted bread and sizzling eggs drifted through the dorm, mingling with the faint hum of the coffee machine and the sound of soft footsteps padding across the kitchen floor. Morning light filtered through the curtains in slanted beams, landing across the wooden table where a few plates were already set. The dorm felt unusually alive for such an early hour, but then again, all of them had been restless, watchful in ways they weren’t before.

Sunoo rubbed his eyes as he walked into the dining area, hair still a little messy, oversized hoodie slipping down his shoulder. He had barely made it three steps before Ni-ki appeared at his side like a shadow, tugging gently on his sleeve and steering him toward a chair.

“Sit,” Ni-ki said firmly, though his tone was softer than usual. He grabbed the chair out for Sunoo, almost like he was afraid Sunoo might collapse if left alone.

Sunoo gave him a small smile, half amused, half touched. “I can still walk, you know.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Ni-ki muttered, sliding the chair closer to the table once Sunoo sat. “Better safe.”

From the stove, Heeseung turned around with a spatula in hand. “Yah, Ni-ki, let him breathe at least five seconds before babying him.” His words carried a laugh, but the way he dropped an extra egg onto Sunoo’s plate betrayed his own worry. Sunoo blinked at the portion. “That’s… a lot.”

“You need it,” Heeseung said, already flipping another egg for himself. “Doctors said rest and food help recovery. Listen to your hyung.” Across the table, Jungwon leaned forward, resting his chin in his palm. His eyes softened in that leaderly way he had when scolding without really scolding. “Sunoo, if you don’t eat everything Heeseung hyung gives you, I’m finishing it for you. So either way, no food goes to waste.”

“Threats already in the morning?” Sunoo teased, lips curving upward. “Our leader has gotten scary.” The others chuckled, but Jake reached over and gently pushed Sunoo’s hair away from his forehead, fingers lingering a little longer than necessary. “Scary or not, they’re right. You scared us enough already. Let us take care of you, hmm?” His voice was low, tender, enough to make Sunoo’s heart stutter.

Sunghoon, who was pouring juice into cups, set one carefully in front of Sunoo. “Orange juice. Extra vitamin C. Don’t argue.” Sunoo laughed softly. “Do I look like I’m planning to?”

“Yes,” Sunghoon deadpanned, but his lips twitched just slightly, betraying fondness.

Jay slid into the chair beside Sunoo, draping an arm casually along the backrest so that his fingers brushed lightly against Sunoo’s shoulder. “Ignore them if it gets too much. But…” He glanced at the others and smirked. “If I catch you trying to sneak away again without telling anyone, you’re stuck glued to me for a week.” That made the whole table erupt in playful groans, Heeseung muttering, “Poor Sunoo,” and Ni-ki immediately blurting, “No fair! If anyone gets glued to Sunoo hyung, it’s me!”

The lighthearted bickering filled the room, warm and alive, and Sunoo found himself sinking back into the chair, a small, grateful smile tugging at his lips. He hadn’t realized how heavy the silence had felt until now, surrounded by them all. Their voices overlapped, their little quirks shone brighter than the morning light, and for the first time since the attack, Sunoo’s chest felt light.

He took a bite of the egg Heeseung made, exaggeratedly savoring it. “Okay… fine. I’ll admit. Being spoiled isn’t so bad.” Seven sets of eyes lit up, each member leaning closer like they’d just won a prize. Jake chuckled, brushing the back of his hand against Sunoo’s. “Finally. Took you long enough to realize we like fussing over you.”

Sunoo had barely taken his second bite before Ni-ki leaned over, stealing a piece of toast from his plate with a sly grin. “Yah!” Sunoo swatted his arm half-heartedly. “That was mine!” Ni-ki chomped down dramatically, cheeks puffed like a chipmunk. “Sharing is caring.”

“You literally made your own toast,” Sunoo argued, pointing at Ni-ki’s plate, which was stacked even higher. “That’s different,” Ni-ki said through his mouthful, earning a scolding from Jungwon. “Hyung’s food tastes better. Right, Sunoo?” Sunoo rolled his eyes, but his smile softened. “You just want an excuse to eat more.” Jay leaned over Sunoo’s shoulder, smirking. “If you don’t want him stealing, you could always sit closer to me. I promise I won’t touch your food.” His words dripped with mock sincerity, but his eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Jay,” Heeseung called from the stove, not even looking up, “you’d steal from him in two seconds flat if you were next to him.”

“Hyung!” Jay shot back, feigning offense. “I have self-control.”

“Sure you do,” Sunghoon muttered under his breath, making the others snicker.

Sunoo hid a laugh behind his hand, cheeks turning pink. “Why are you all like this so early in the morning?”

“Because you’re smiling,” Jake said simply, his voice quieter than the rest. He reached out again, this time resting his hand gently on Sunoo’s knee under the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze. The gesture was small, but it grounded Sunoo instantly, his breath catching just slightly.

Jungwon caught the moment and leaned in from the other side, resting his chin on Sunoo’s shoulder with no shame. “Don’t get too used to Jake hyung’s sweetness. He’ll steal your blanket later.”

“Yah!” Jake protested, tightening his hold on Sunoo’s knee like he was anchoring himself. “Why are you exposing me?”

“Because I’m your leader,” Jungwon shot back smugly. The table erupted again, laughter bouncing off the kitchen walls. Even Heeseung, who was usually composed in the mornings, grinned wide as he placed a stack of pancakes in the center. “Alright, enough fighting. Whoever eats the most pancakes wins bragging rights for the week.” Ni-ki perked up immediately, eyes gleaming with determination. “Say less.”

“Oh no,” Sunghoon muttered, already pushing the plate closer to Sunoo like a shield. “Save some for him at least.”

“Don’t worry,” Sunoo said with a small giggle, tugging Sunghoon’s sleeve affectionately. “I’ll share with you if he eats too much.” The small assurance made Sunghoon’s ears turn red, though he masked it quickly by sipping his juice. Still, Sunoo noticed and felt a warmth bloom in his chest.

As the chatter continued, the entire table seemed to tilt around him, not just literally with how they leaned in closer, but emotionally, like he was the center of gravity they all naturally orbited. Every joke, every passing touch, every stolen glance was for him. And Sunoo realized, with a quiet ache of relief, that the silence which had engulfed him days ago was being drowned out by their voices, their laughter, their love.

He let out a soft sigh he didn’t know he was holding. “You guys are too much.”

“No,” Jake corrected, squeezing his knee again, firm this time. “We’re just enough.”

“Eat more, Sunoo,” Heeseung said, placing two pancakes on Sunoo’s plate before he could protest. “You need to keep your strength up.”

“I already have enough,” Sunoo murmured, staring at the now overflowing plate. “Not for me,” Heeseung countered firmly, his tone so soft yet so absolute that Sunoo didn’t even argue. Jay leaned over instantly, cutting a piece off Sunoo’s pancake before he could take a bite. “Sunny, this is mine now.”

“Jay hyung!” Sunoo swatted his hand, but Jay only laughed, chewing happily. “You see? That’s why I said to sit by me,” Jay teased again. “Heeseung would load your plate, and I’d… lighten it.”

“You mean steal,” Jungwon deadpanned, rolling his eyes. He leaned in closer to Sunoo, sliding a strawberry onto Sunoo’s fork and nudging it toward his lips. “Here. Eat this instead before Jay hyung steals it too.” Sunoo blinked at the sudden gesture, heat creeping up his neck. Still, he parted his lips, letting Jungwon feed him. Jake groaned dramatically from across the table. “Yah, you’re not even subtle. At least let him finish one bite before you’re being possessive.”

“I’m not possessive,” Jungwon said smoothly, sitting straighter, but his eyes stayed fixed on Sunoo like he didn’t even realize it. “You literally are,” Ni-ki chimed in with a full mouth. “Last night you glared at me for hugging him too long.”

“That’s because you fall asleep on him like a giant blanket,” Jungwon argued, defensive now. “And?” Ni-ki blinked innocently, then smirked. “He likes it.” Sunoo choked slightly on his strawberry, and Sunghoon wordlessly slid a glass of water toward him. “Here. Don’t listen to them.” His voice was calm, but his hand lingered on Sunoo’s for a second too long, steadying it as Sunoo took a sip.

Jake leaned over again, his chin propped on his hand as he studied Sunoo with an intensity that made his cheeks warm. “See, this is why I call you trouble, Sunoo. You just sit there, looking pretty, and suddenly everyone loses their minds.”

Sunoo buried his face in his hands, muffling a laugh. “You’re all insane.”

“Maybe,” Jake said, reaching out to tug one hand down so he could see Sunoo’s face again, “but you love it.”

The table buzzed with overlapping voices, plates scraping, pancakes disappearing far too fast and yet Sunoo felt like he was floating, every little moment grounding him deeper into their affection. Sunghoon cutting up his pancakes into smaller bites without asking. Ni-ki stealing food just to make him laugh. Jungwon pressing a napkin into his hand when syrup dripped. Heeseung quietly piling fruit on his plate whenever it emptied. Jay sneaking kisses to his temple whenever no one looked. Jake constantly finding ways to touch him, whether it was his hand, his knee, or brushing crumbs off his cheek.

It was overwhelming, but not in the way it used to be. This was the kind of overwhelming that made his heart ache, full and fragile all at once.

He set his fork down for a second, glancing around the table at them, their eyes, their smiles, their laughter spilling over one another and whispered so quietly he wasn’t sure if they heard:

“Thank you.”

Heeseung, always listening, caught it first. He didn’t say anything, he just reached over and ruffled Sunoo’s hair, a smile tugging at his lips. And suddenly, every hand seemed to reach toward him at once. A squeeze on his shoulder. A brush against his wrist. A playful tug at his sleeve.

They didn’t need words.

Sunoo was theirs.

And they were his.

Ni-ki stabbed his fork into a sausage link on Sunoo’s plate and pulled it straight into his mouth. “Yah!” Sunoo swatted his arm. “You have your own!”

“But yours tastes better,” Ni-ki mumbled, cheeks full. “It’s literally the same,” Sunoo shot back, glaring at him. “Nope,” Ni-ki grinned, leaning back smugly. “Yours has love in it.” The table groaned at once. Jake dropped his fork dramatically. “Are you kidding me? You’re stealing food and flirting at the same time?” Jay leaned closer to Sunoo, whispering just loud enough for everyone to hear. “Don’t listen to him. If you want real love, taste mine.” He held up a forkful of his omelet, wiggling his eyebrows.

Sunoo’s lips twitched, torn between laughter and embarrassment. “Jay-hyung, stop.”

“Say ahh,” Jay teased, holding it in front of his mouth. Before Sunoo could react, Jake reached across the table and took the bite himself. “Mmm. Tastes like desperation.”

“Jungwon,” Jay snapped, ignoring Jake completely, “please ban him from sitting near me.”

“You’re both banned,” Jungwon muttered, but his gaze slipped back to Sunoo, and without hesitation, he sliced another strawberry and held it up. “Here. At least I feed him properly.” Sunoo, cornered, sighed and leaned forward obediently, lips brushing Jungwon’s fork. He barely had time to chew before Ni-ki leaned in too, stealing another bite straight from his plate.

Sunghoon, who had been quietly cutting Sunoo’s pancakes into neat squares, finally set the fork down with a small shake of his head. “Unbelievable,” he murmured. Then, as if nothing was wrong, he slid the entire plate in front of Sunoo. “Ignore them. Just eat.”

“That’s not fair!” Ni-ki whined instantly. “You’ve had enough,” Sunghoon countered calmly, sipping his juice. Heeseung finally spoke up, voice steady but amused. “I’m starting to think I’m the only one actually feeding Sunoo because I care about him, not because I want to compete.”

“Oh, hyung,” Jake laughed, reaching over to pluck a grape from Heeseung’s fruit bowl and press it against Sunoo’s lips, “don’t act like you’re any better.” Sunoo tried to lean back, overwhelmed by all the forks and hands reaching his way. “Stop, stop—! I can feed myself!”

“Not when you have us,” Jake said smoothly, slipping the grape past his lips anyway. “Exactly,” Jungwon added, sliding another napkin to him, wiping a tiny bit of syrup from the corner of his mouth without asking. Sunoo’s cheeks burned as he stared down at his crowded plate. “You guys are impossible.”

“Correction,” Jay said, leaning in close, lips brushing against Sunoo’s ear just enough to make him jolt. “We’re yours.” The table erupted in groans, laughter, and protests at Jay’s line, but the truth hung in the air anyway, warm, undeniable, and wrapping around Sunoo until he thought his chest might burst. He ducked his head, trying to hide the smile tugging at his lips, but Jake caught it instantly, grinning wide as he nudged his foot against Sunoo’s under the table. “Don’t try to hide it. You love this.”

And though he rolled his eyes and mumbled, “You’re all ridiculous,” his heart whispered back a truth only he could feel.

He did love it.

He loved them.

Plates had been cleared, mugs carried back to the kitchen, but somehow the chaos of breakfast followed them straight into the living room. Sunoo barely had time to sit on the couch before Ni-ki dropped beside him, sprawling dramatically with his head in Sunoo’s lap. “I’m claiming this spot. No one else allowed.”

“You don’t get to ‘claim’ me like I’m a pillow,” Sunoo muttered, poking at his cheek. “Exactly,” Ni-ki mumbled, already closing his eyes. “You’re better than a pillow.” Jake flopped onto Sunoo’s other side, draping an arm across the back of the couch. “Move over, maknae. You don’t get to hog him.”

“No way,” Ni-ki’s eyes stayed shut, lips curling in a smug smile. “I got here first.” Jay, never one to be ignored, leaned over the armrest from behind, his chin settling on Sunoo’s shoulder. “Then I’ll just steal space up here. He can’t say no if I’m not on his lap.”

“Jay-hyung,” Sunoo groaned, trying to shrink back, but Jay only leaned closer, his breath warm against his neck. Sunghoon walked in with a blanket, sighing at the sight of them. “You guys are suffocating him.” Still, instead of pulling them off, he carefully draped the blanket across all three of them, tucking it neatly around Sunoo’s shoulders. Sunoo blinked down at the blanket, fingers brushing its edge. “You didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to,” Sunghoon said simply, taking the armchair nearby but keeping his eyes on him.

Meanwhile, Jungwon perched on the carpet, cross-legged right in front of Sunoo, like a quiet guardian. “You’re comfortable, right? Not too crowded?”

“Yes, leader-nim,” Sunoo teased softly, but Jungwon’s frown only deepened, making him add quickly, “I’m fine, really. I promise.” Heeseung came in last, carrying two cups of tea. Without a word, he set one into Sunoo’s hands and sat on the other side of the couch, his knee pressing lightly against Sunoo’s. “Drink. It’ll help your throat.”

Sunoo looked down at the steaming cup, then at the circle of faces around him, clingy, protective, all radiating warmth like they had nowhere else to be but here. His chest squeezed, that same ache of being cared for too much, too openly, almost overwhelming.

Jake caught the look in his eyes and grinned knowingly. “You’re about to cry again, aren’t you?”

“I am not,” Sunoo snapped weakly, cheeks flushing. “Don’t worry,” Jay murmured, brushing his thumb across Sunoo’s shoulder where his hand had stayed, casual and steady. “If you do, we’ll catch them.” That was it, Sunoo laughed, a shaky sound, and tried to cover his face with his hands, but Ni-ki whined and caught his wrists, pulling them away. “No hiding. We want to see you smile.”

And under the weight of their gazes, their warmth pressing in from every side, Sunoo finally let himself lean back, sinking into the comfort of all of them.

---
2 Hours Later

The bright midday sun reflected off the pavement as the group stepped out of the dorm, laughter and light teasing bouncing between them. Sunoo walked sandwiched between Jungwon and Jake, Ni-ki holding tightly to his free hand, while Jay and Sunghoon flanked the sides, and Heeseung scanning their surroundings with careful vigilance.

“I swear, if anyone bumps into me, I’m yelling,” Sunoo said, adjusting his hoodie nervously. The memory of the attack still made his chest tighten. “You’re not walking alone,” Jake replied firmly, looping his arm through Sunoo’s. “All of us are here. I’ve got you.” Ni-ki added, tugging on his hand slightly, “And if anyone so much as looks at you funny, I will throw them into the nearest fountain.”

Heeseung’s eyes flicked to the street, sharp and calculating. “Keep moving, keep close, and stay aware. Even a second of distraction…” He didn’t need to finish the sentence for the group to understand. The movie theater came into view, a brightly colored building humming with the chatter of other patrons, concessions smells wafting through the air. Sunoo tried to calm himself, but he couldn’t shake the creeping feeling of being watched, a shadow brushing at the edge of his vision.

As they queued for tickets, he glanced over his shoulder, catching movement, a flicker of a figure lingering too long by the lamppost across the street.

“Sunoo?” Jungwon’s hand on his shoulder made him jump slightly. “I—I think someone’s following us,” he whispered, voice low, his grip on Ni-ki tightening. Jake’s gaze snapped to the street, eyes narrowing. “Where?”

“That way,” Sunoo murmured, pointing subtly. The shadow melted into the crowd, but the unease remained, a pressure pressing against his chest.

Once inside, they tried to shake it off, laughing softly as Heeseung bought the tickets and snacks, but the theater’s dim lights did little to ease Sunoo’s nerves. He sat in the middle, flanked by Jake and Jungwon, Ni-ki curled against his side, Jay leaning against the back of the seat so his arm brushed against Sunoo’s shoulder, and Heeseung and Sunghoon on either end, scanning the room.

“Relax,” Jake whispered, thumb brushing against Sunoo’s hand. “We’re here, nothing can touch you.” But Sunoo couldn’t ignore the small details, the quiet shuffle behind them, the occasional figure glancing their way, the way the theater staff seemed oblivious to it. His stomach twisted with tension.

Halfway through the previews, a sudden noise, a metallic clang near the exit made Sunoo flinch violently. Ni-ki immediately pressed closer, whispering, “It’s fine. Don’t look.” But instinct had Sunoo turning his head, and for a brief second, a figure stood in the shadows by the concession stand, face obscured, watching him. Jake’s hand shot out, gripping Sunoo’s shoulder, and Jungwon’s protective stance stiffened. “Stay down,” Heeseung hissed, eyes locked on the figure.

Before Sunoo could react further, a sudden shove came from behind him, almost sending him toppling forward. Ni-ki yelped, grabbing his hoodie, Jay’s arm sweeping out instinctively to block any further push. “Get out!” Sunghoon barked, rising to his feet, scanning the area for the threat. The figure, cloaked in dark clothing, slipped into the crowd, but the tension didn’t release. Sunoo’s pulse raced, chest tight, hands trembling as Jake pulled him closer, Ni-ki clinging to him, and Jungwon brushing his hair back gently.

“You’re okay,” Jungwon whispered, voice soft but insistent. “You’re okay because we’re all here.”

Sunoo tried to breathe, to steady himself, but the threat of the stalker loomed larger now, the attack was no longer a memory. It was happening all over again, and no amount of hugs or whispered reassurances could completely erase the terror. And in the dim light of the theater, surrounded by laughter and trailers that seemed distant and unreal, Sunoo realized that this shadow was still out there, still waiting.

The previews were still playing on the large screen, explosions and dramatic music filling the dim theater, but Sunoo couldn’t focus. His heart hammered violently in his chest, and every shadow seemed alive, crawling closer with intent. He felt Ni-ki press against him, little hands gripping his hoodie with such force it left marks, and Jay’s arm brushing his shoulder in what should have been comforting contact, but even that felt fragile against the suffocating tension.

“Stay low,” Heeseung whispered, his voice quiet yet commanding, scanning every exit and aisle with sharp, precise eyes. “Don’t move unless you have to.”

Sunoo’s stomach churned as he nodded, trying to make himself as small and unnoticeable as possible. His fingers intertwined with Ni-ki’s, both of them holding on as if sheer contact could anchor them to safety. Across from him, Jake’s arm wrapped protectively around his waist, pressing him into the seat, while Jungwon’s hand was already at the back of Sunoo’s neck, ready to shield him if the figure made a move.

And then it happened.

A sudden shadow shifted just behind the last row, moving with unnatural stealth. Sunoo’s breath caught in his throat as he barely saw the glint of something metallic in the stranger’s hand. It was quick, so quick, but it was enough to make his entire body tense like a drawn bow. Ni-ki’s sharp whisper cut through the noise of the trailers: “Do not turn around.” But instinct betrayed him. Sunoo’s head turned just slightly, and there it was, a figure, clad in dark clothing, that same figure he saw just 10 minutes ago, advancing toward them with a silent, predatory calm. His pulse spiked.

Jake reacted instantly, gripping Sunoo tighter and leaning forward, his eyes blazing as he positioned himself between Sunoo and the shadow. “Back off!” he shouted, loud enough to echo through the theater but not enough to cause panic among other patrons.

The figure hesitated, shifting weight as though reconsidering, but then lunged forward. A collective gasp rose from Sunoo, Ni-ki, and Jay. Sunghoon sprang to his feet, muscles coiled like a panther, blocking the aisle with his body. “Get out of here!” he barked, voice thunderous, the kind that made the figure falter for the first time. Ni-ki clutched Sunoo’s hoodie and hissed, “Stay down! Don’t move!”

But Sunoo’s own fear made him fidget, a small sound betraying their position. The stranger’s eyes seemed to lock on him immediately, cold and calculating, narrowing as if sensing the vulnerability.

Jungwon’s hand shot up, palm outward, an instinctive barrier between Sunoo and the attacker. “Not today,” he muttered under his breath. Then, louder: “We are not letting you touch him.” Heeseung, who had been scanning the perimeter, moved silently up the side aisle, taking a precise step toward the stranger while Sunghoon blocked any forward movement. In a coordinated motion born of instinct, Jake lunged slightly, brushing the figure off balance just enough for Heeseung to intervene.

The stranger stumbled, but not enough to retreat fully. A metallic object, a knife, glinting under the theater lights flashed once more. Sunoo’s eyes widened in terror. “Sunoo!” Jay’s voice broke through, panicked, as he grabbed Sunoo’s arm, pulling him closer, pressing him into the curve of his chest. “Don’t move! Just stay with me!”

Ni-ki’s grip tightened on Sunoo’s hand, teeth gritting as he hissed a warning, “Try anything, and you’re going to regret it.”

Jungwon stepped fully into the aisle now, blocking the figure’s line of sight, while Sunghoon’s presence beside him formed an almost impenetrable wall. Heeseung advanced, calm and precise, cutting off any escape. The figure realized it had underestimated the cohesion, the synchronized movement of six members working in near-perfect unison, all focused on protecting Sunoo.

The stranger faltered, shifting weight nervously, and that hesitation was all they needed. Jake pushed Sunoo gently behind him while Heeseung lunged forward, grabbing the figure’s arm with enough force to make the knife clatter to the floor. Jay and Ni-ki were already on top of the attacker, pressing him down to the carpet, holding him still.

Sunoo’s breath came in ragged gasps as he clutched Jake’s sleeve, trembling. “I—I can’t…” he stammered, voice breaking. “You’re okay,” Jake soothed, voice low and steady, pressing soft kisses against Sunoo’s temple to anchor him. “You’re okay because we’ve got you. All of us.”

Heeseung kept his grip firm on the attacker’s arm while Sunghoon leaned in, giving Sunoo a reassuring squeeze from behind. “Look at me. You’re safe. You’re safe, Sunoo.”

Ni-ki’s head rested against Sunoo’s shoulder, whispering, “See? You’re fine. We’re all right here. You don’t have to fight alone.”

The theater was silent now, except for the sound of the attacker struggling faintly under their combined hold. Every muscle in Sunoo’s body slowly uncoiled as the adrenaline faded, leaving behind shaking limbs and a heart that refused to stop pounding.

Jungwon finally released the figure’s arm into the theater security’s hands, stepping back to kneel beside Sunoo. “I told you,” he murmured softly, brushing hair from Sunoo’s forehead, “you’re never alone. Not for a second.”

Sunoo let himself collapse slightly against Jake, eyes wet, his body still trembling from the encounter. “I… I thought…”

“I know,” Jake whispered, pressing their foreheads together. “I know. But it’s over now. We’re all here, and we’re not letting anyone hurt you again.”

Sunghoon leaned in, arms wrapping Sunoo tightly to his chest from behind, while Ni-ki and Jay continued their soft, murmured reassurances, all of them grounding him in the moment, reminding him of safety, love, and the unbreakable bond they shared.

Even with the shadow gone, even with the immediate danger neutralized, Sunoo realized one undeniable truth: no matter how violent the world outside became, as long as ENHYPEN was by his side, he would never face it alone.

---
The theater lights dimmed further as the previews ended, but Sunoo’s chest felt like it was pressed into a vice. Every laugh around him, every rustle of popcorn, sounded distant and hollow. He could feel it again, that oppressive weight, the shadow brushing the edge of his awareness, creeping closer.

Ni-ki’s hand trembled slightly as he held onto Sunoo’s hoodie, whispering, “Something’s wrong… I can feel it.” Jake’s grip tightened on Sunoo’s waist, the pressure almost painful but grounding. “Don’t move. Just… stay close to me.” Sunoo’s pulse slammed against his ribs, a steady thrum of panic. He couldn’t breathe properly. A metallic glint flickered behind the last row, catching the dim reflection of the exit lights, and his stomach sank.

“It’s here,” Sunoo murmured, barely audible. “He’s-he’s back.” Jungwon’s jaw tightened. “Everyone stay alert. Move quietly. Sunoo, lean into me.” Jake's eyes darkened in anger. "i though the security had him? What the fuck? He got away?" The stalker stepped forward, face still obscured by a hood, movements unnervingly deliberate. Sunoo’s eyes darted around the theater, trying to see exits, to find a way out, but every path was blocked by rows of seats, oblivious patrons, and the chilling knowledge that the figure was watching them, choosing his moment.

Suddenly, a sharp noise, a dropped bucket of popcorn echoed across the aisle, breaking the fragile cover. The stalker reacted instantly, lunging from the shadows with terrifying speed. Sunoo screamed as a hand shot toward him. Ni-ki yelped, trying to block the attack, but the figure’s momentum was too strong. Jake shoved Sunoo behind him, pushing him out of the line of fire while the attacker’s fingers grazed his hoodie, leaving a chilling scratch across the fabric.

Heeseung moved like lightning, tackling the figure to the ground, but the stalker twisted violently, managing to slip partially free, knife flashing once more in a metallic glint. Sunghoon lunged, grabbing his arm, but the attacker’s strength made them stagger back several feet. “Sunoo, stay down! Don’t move!” Ni-ki hissed, pressing against him so hard it was almost suffocating, but Sunoo couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t stop staring at the figure looming over them.

Jay’s hands were on Sunoo’s shoulders, pulling him behind his own body, pressing soft kisses to his temple. “It’s okay, it’s okay, we’ve got you.” But even his voice wavered, betraying the fear that ran through them all. The stalker hissed, a low, animalistic sound that made every hair on Sunoo’s body stand on end. “You can’t hide,” the voice rasped, crawling into his ears like poison. “I see everything… I know everything…”

Sunoo’s breath hitched. He felt frozen, trapped, helpless. His eyes darted to the screen, to the theater exit, anywhere, but there was nowhere to go.

“Stay with me,” Jake murmured, fingers threading through Sunoo’s hair, holding him as if sheer touch could repel the danger. “Don’t look. Don’t breathe too loud. Just stay here. Please…” Ni-ki was trembling beside him, pressing small, frantic kisses to Sunoo’s hands. “You’re mine. I won’t let him hurt you. I swear—”

The attacker lunged again, and chaos erupted. Heeseung tackled the figure fully, pinning the knife hand to the floor. Sunghoon’s fists rained on the attacker’s arms to keep him still. Jay wrapped himself around Sunoo protectively, shielding him with his body. Ni-ki pressed his forehead to Sunoo’s back, whispering words of desperate reassurance. Sunoo’s own hands shook as he clutched at Jake’s sleeve, nails digging into the fabric. “I… I’m scared,” he admitted, voice breaking.

“I know,” Jake said, voice low, urgent, trembling in its intensity. “I know you’re scared, but you’re safe. I’m right here. We’re all right here. We’re not letting him touch you.”

Jungwon moved silently behind Sunoo, placing a hand on the back of his neck, jaw tight, eyes scanning the attacker as Heeseung and Sunghoon restrained him. “You don’t even see what happens when you touch him,” Jungwon said through gritted teeth. “You’re done. You’re finished.”

The stalker’s eyes flicked to Sunoo, a flicker of rage and obsession burning behind the hood. For a moment, it seemed as though time slowed, Sunoo’s heartbeat pounding, the metallic glint of the knife, the tense hold of each member pressing into him. The air itself felt sharp, dangerous, electric with fear and anger.

Finally, the theater security arrived again, grabbing the attacker as Heeseung, Sunghoon, and Jungwon held firm. But even as the figure was dragged away, Sunoo’s body refused to calm. His limbs shook, chest heaving, tears pricking his eyes. Jake cradled him against his chest, forehead resting against Sunoo’s. “It’s over now,” he murmured, repeating it like a prayer. “It’s over, Sunoo. We’re all here. You’re okay.” (heh...just wait...)

Ni-ki pressed kisses to the back of his neck, whispering, “Mine… always mine…”

Sunghoon’s hands wrapped around him from behind, anchoring him in place. Jay’s lips found his temple again. Jungwon’s hand smoothed over his hair. Heeseung’s eyes scanned the room for lingering threats, muscles tense but ready to act. Even with the danger past, the darkness lingered. Sunoo’s trembling didn’t stop. His chest ached from fear, adrenaline, and relief. And yet, even in the shadow of terror, he realized one truth as he leaned into each of them, soaked in their protection and love:

No matter how violent the world became, as long as his members, his lovers surrounded him, he would never be alone ever again.

---
The theater’s automatic doors whooshed open, spilling sunlight onto the pavement, and for a moment, the world outside seemed calm. But the calm was a lie. The so-called “security” guards had only pushed the attacker toward the street, muttering vaguely and waving them off, clearly unwilling to take it seriously. He had disappeared among the crowd for a heartbeat… and then reappeared, moving faster than any normal human should.

“He’s still here,” Sunghoon hissed, eyes narrowing as he scanned the busy street. His fists clenched automatically, ready to intercept, but the attacker was already weaving through pedestrians, zero hesitation in his movements. “Stay close to me!” Jake shouted, grabbing Sunoo’s hand and looping it through his own arm. Ni-ki immediately pressed beside him, holding him like a shield, Jay and Heeseung flanking the other side, Jungwon just behind, scanning for angles.

Sunoo’s chest heaved as adrenaline slammed through him. Every step felt heavier than the last. “I… I can’t—” he started, but Jay pressed a hand to his back, a quick push forward, murmuring, “You can. Keep going. We’ve got you.” They ran down the street, dodging startled pedestrians and traffic, hearts hammering in unison. Sunoo’s hoodie stuck to his back with sweat, his lungs burning, and the world around him narrowed to the shadow of the attacker, gaining distance despite their full sprint.

A small crack in the sidewalk, a barely noticeable hole caught Sunoo’s foot mid-stride. His vision blurred for a second as he stumbled, and the ground rose to meet him faster than he could react. “Sunoo!” Ni-ki screamed, lunging forward, but it was too late. The attacker was upon him in a heartbeat. Sunoo felt a searing, hot pain in his side as the figure shoved him to the ground, a blade or maybe a shard of broken metal, scraping across him. Blood blossomed instantly, warm and sticky, seeping through his hoodie. He gasped, pain exploding through his ribs.

Jake was there in an instant, pressing against Sunoo, pulling him behind his body. “Stay with me!” Jake yelled, voice raw and desperate, one hand bracing Sunoo, the other swinging out at the attacker. Heeseung and Sunghoon tackled the figure again, wrestling him to the asphalt. The attacker’s strength was unnerving, but their combined force pinned him down. Jay pressed his lips to Sunoo’s temple, murmuring frantic reassurances while Ni-ki’s small, trembling hands pressed against the wound, trying to stem the bleeding with whatever he could grab.

Sunoo’s breath came in ragged gasps, pain sharp and radiating, but the warmth of their bodies surrounding him, their desperate, panicked energy kept him tethered. “I’m… I’m okay,” he whimpered, but even he didn’t believe it entirely. Jungwon knelt beside them, his hands steady and firm on Sunoo, scanning the wound quickly. “You are going to be fine,” he said, voice taut but calm, “but we’re getting you out of here. Now.”

Ni-ki leaned close, pressing a cloth from a nearby café against the side of Sunoo’s hoodie, murmuring, “Stay with me. Please… just stay with me. Please hyung...” The attacker was finally subdued by the combined might of Heeseung, Sunghoon, and the flustered security guards who suck at their job, but the damage had been done. Sunoo was bleeding, weak, and terrified, his small body trembling against Jake and Ni-ki.

Jake’s hands were everywhere at once, holding Sunoo against him, brushing sticky strands of hair from his face, murmuring, “It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re safe now. I’ve got you.” Sunghoon’s arms wrapped around them both, forming a protective cage, while Jay pressed his lips against Sunoo’s temple again, and Jungwon’s hand stayed firm on his back, anchoring him to the moment.

Even with blood staining his hoodie and the pain radiating through his ribs, Sunoo felt the unshakable truth: he was theirs. No matter how violent, how close the danger, they would never let him face it alone.

And though the street smelled faintly of asphalt and iron, and the sunlight no longer seemed safe, Sunoo knew he would survive.

---
To Be Continued...

Chapter Text

---

The hospital smelled of antiseptic and sharp metal, the air far too cold for how hot their chests burned. Fluorescent lights buzzed above as the doors to the emergency wing slammed open, the seven of them stumbling in like a storm.

“Help! He’s bleeding!” Jake’s voice cracked as he clutched Sunoo against his chest, the boy trembling and pale, lips pressed into a thin line as if keeping himself from crying out.
Nurses rushed forward, pulling a gurney into place. “We need him on the bed now!” one barked, but Jake resisted, arms locking tighter around Sunoo’s fragile frame.
“I’m not letting go,” Jake snapped, eyes wide, wild with fear. “I’m not-”
“Jake hyung,” Jungwon said firmly, though his voice trembled. “They need to take him. Please. For him.”

Jake’s hands shook as he finally laid Sunoo down, brushing his hair from his clammy forehead. “I’m right here. We’re all right here. Don’t close your eyes.” Sunoo whimpered faintly as the nurses wheeled him away, Ni-ki darting forward instinctively only to be caught back by Jay’s arm. “Sunoo hyung!” Ni-ki cried, voice breaking, but the swinging ER doors slammed shut, leaving them in a suffocating silence. Heeseung’s fist met the wall with a sharp crack, knuckles splitting instantly. “Damn it! We should’ve protected him better!”

“Don’t,” Jungwon whispered, his voice raw. “We were there. We fought. We-” But his own throat closed up, and he sank into one of the waiting chairs, burying his face in his hands.
Ni-ki paced like a caged animal, his hoodie sleeve dragging across his tear-streaked face. “He’s bleeding because of me. If I had just held on tighter, if I-”
“Stop it!” Sunghoon barked, his voice harsh but his eyes brimming with unshed tears. “Don’t you dare blame yourself. If anyone failed, it’s all of us. Every single one of us.” His hands trembled as he pulled Ni-ki into a tight embrace, burying his face in the younger’s hair. Jay, normally composed, sat with his hands clasped so tight his knuckles blanched, whispering under his breath, like a mantra. “Please, let him be okay. Please. Please.” His lips trembled as he pressed them against his fists, the quiet prayers spilling like blood.

Jake’s clothes were stained crimson, Sunoo’s blood dried into the fabric. He couldn’t stop shaking, staring at his hands, his sleeves, his chest where Sunoo had leaned against him. “It’s mine now,” he muttered brokenly, tears spilling unchecked. “His blood… it’s mine now… what if that’s all I have left?” Jungwon’s head snapped up, eyes sharp and wet. “Don’t say that. He’s not leaving us. He’s not.” Minutes dragged like hours, every tick of the clock carving deeper into their hearts. When a nurse finally emerged, their heads shot up in unison, hope and dread warring in their eyes. “He’s stable for now,” the nurse said, voice professional, but softer upon seeing their faces. “The wound wasn’t life threatening, but he lost a lot of blood. He’s resting.”

Jake nearly collapsed with relief, Sunghoon gripping his arm to steady him. Ni-ki sobbed openly, clinging to Jay, who didn’t even try to stop his own tears. Jungwon’s breath left him in a shudder, Heeseung slumping against the wall, head tilted back as silent tears carved lines down his cheeks.
“Can we see him?” Jay’s voice cracked like fragile glass. “Only one at a time, for now,” the nurse replied gently. “He needs quiet.” They exchanged glances, painful, weighted, filled with the unspoken truth, none of them wanted to leave Sunoo alone again. Jake stepped forward first, his bloodstained hoodie a testament to his desperation. “Please. Let me go in first. Just for a minute.” The nurse nodded, leading him down the hall. The others sat in silence, hearts heavy, fear gnawing at the edges of their relief.

The nurse nodded, leading him down the hall. The others sat in silence, hearts heavy, fear gnawing at the edges of their relief.
Jake’s sneakers squeaked faintly against the polished tile as he followed, each step heavier than the last. His hoodie clung stiff to his skin, Sunoo’s dried blood a dark reminder of how close he’d come to losing him. He swallowed hard, throat tight, heart pounding louder with every foot of sterile hallway. The nurse pushed the door open gently, and Jake stepped into the dim room. Sunoo lay there, pale against the white sheets, the steady beep of the monitor the only sign that life pulsed within him. His hair was damp with sweat, strands sticking to his forehead, and a bandage wrapped his side beneath the thin hospital gown.

Jake’s knees nearly buckled. He gripped the doorframe for a second before stumbling forward, dragging the chair closer to the bed. His hands shook as he reached for Sunoo’s, terrified that if he held too tight, he might hurt him, but terrified even more that if he didn’t, Sunoo might slip away.
“Hey,” Jake whispered, voice breaking on the single syllable. His thumb brushed Sunoo’s knuckles, lingering, desperate. “It’s me. I’m here.” Sunoo stirred faintly, eyelids fluttering before cracking open. His gaze was hazy, unfocused at first, until it landed on Jake. His lips curved in the tiniest, exhausted smile. “Jake…” The sound of his name in that fragile voice shattered Jake completely. His tears slipped free before he could stop them, falling hot onto the white sheets. He leaned forward, pressing Sunoo’s hand against his cheek. “God, Sunoo… I thought-I thought you were…” He choked, unable to finish, his shoulders trembling.

Sunoo’s weak fingers twitched, curling just barely around Jake’s. “Still here,” he whispered, his voice so soft Jake had to lean closer to hear. “I’m still here because of you.”
Jake let out a broken laugh, shaking his head, brushing stray hair from Sunoo’s forehead with a tenderness so fragile it almost hurt. “Don’t say that. It wasn’t just me, it was all of us. We-we almost failed you. I almost failed you.”
“You didn’t.” Sunoo’s eyes softened, the weight of sincerity in them cutting through Jake’s storm of guilt. “You saved me. You always save me.” Jake leaned closer, forehead pressing gently against Sunoo’s. He inhaled the faint scent of antiseptic and blood, mixing with the warmth of Sunoo’s skin. “I can’t lose you,” he whispered, voice trembling. “Not to them. Not to anyone. You’re mine. Ours. Always.”

Sunoo’s lips ghosted into the faintest smile, and with what little strength he had, he brushed his nose against Jake’s. “Then don’t let go.” Jake’s breath hitched, and he pressed a featherlight kiss to Sunoo’s lips. Soft, careful, reverent, as if Sunoo might break beneath him. The contact was fleeting but enough to anchor him, to tether them both in this fragile moment between despair and hope.

When he pulled back, Jake cupped his cheek, whispering, “Rest. I’ll be right here. I’m not moving. Not even for a second.” And as Sunoo’s eyes fluttered shut again, Jake sat frozen in that chair, his hand still locked with Sunoo’s, tears still falling but his resolve hardening.

Because if the world thought it could take Kim Sunoo from them, it was gravely mistaken.

Jake lingered by the bedside far longer than the nurse had allowed, his fingers reluctant to slip from Sunoo’s. When he finally stood, brushing his thumb over Sunoo’s cheek one last time, he whispered something only the two of them would ever know, then slipped out the door. (Yeah, not even you guys will know. Hehe...) The hallway air felt heavier than before, and waiting there was Ni-ki. His arms were folded tightly, not in defiance but in restraint, as if holding himself together. His eyes darted past Jake immediately, searching for reassurance. Jake’s voice was quiet, cracked. “He’s asleep again. Just… talk to him. He’ll hear you.”

Ni-ki nodded, jaw clenched, and without another word, pushed the door open.

The room was too big, too cold. Sunoo looked even smaller against the expanse of white sheets, his chest rising and falling with the faintest effort. For a moment, Ni-ki just stood there, frozen in the doorway. He’d seen Sunoo tired, seen him vulnerable but never like this. Never pale and fragile, hooked up to machines that kept count of his breaths. His throat tightened as he moved forward, dragging the chair closer until it scraped softly against the tile. Slowly, hesitantly, Ni-ki reached out and brushed his knuckles against the back of Sunoo’s hand. The skin was warm, too warm, but real. Alive.

“Hyung…” The word left him in a whisper, thick with emotion he couldn’t usually put into words. He swallowed, eyes burning as he leaned closer, elbows resting on the edge of the bed. “You scared me. So bad.” The room stayed quiet except for the beeping of the monitor, but Ni-ki pressed on, voice trembling. “I thought—I thought when you fell, when he got to you—that maybe that was it. That maybe I’d never get to…” He stopped, biting down hard on the inside of his cheek, a tear slipping free despite himself. “…never get to hear you laugh at me again. Or nag me when I mess up. Or… just be with you.” He tightened his grip on Sunoo’s limp hand, both of his now cradling it. His thumb brushed over the back, steadying himself, grounding himself. “You’re not just my hyung. You’re my everything too. You’re the one who makes this place feel like home. Without you… it doesn’t feel right.”

Ni-ki leaned in, lowering his forehead until it pressed gently against the back of Sunoo’s hand. His voice was muffled but fervent. “I promise I’ll protect you better. I won’t let anyone get close to you like that again. I don’t care what I have to do. You’re… you’re too important. To me. To all of us. But… especially me.” For a long moment, he just stayed like that, eyes shut, holding onto Sunoo like he could anchor him to the earth. The faint rhythm of the heart monitor seemed to answer him, a fragile reassurance that Sunoo was still here.

Finally, Ni-ki sat back, his hand still clutching Sunoo’s, his other reaching up to brush stray hair from his forehead in a gesture clumsy but tender. His voice softened, barely audible. “Please wake up soon. I need you to nag me again. And for me to force my way into your bed again in the middle of the night.”

A small smile tugged at his lips, though it trembled under the weight of his tears.

Ni-ki stayed there longer than he should have, his fingers unwilling to let go, his heart refusing to accept that this was all the time he’d get for now. But eventually, with a shaky breath, he leaned down, pressed a soft kiss to the back of Sunoo’s hand, and whispered, “I’ll be right outside, okay? Don’t forget that.” He lingered another heartbeat, then slowly stood, his hand slipping free with a final brush. The chair’s legs scraped as he pushed it back, the sound too loud in the sterile quiet. When he turned to the door, he had to pause, wiping his eyes quickly with the back of his sleeve, forcing his expression back into something steadier before facing the others.

The hallway was still heavy with silence. The members looked up as the door opened, their gazes searching Ni-ki’s face. He didn’t say anything, but the redness around his eyes and the way his shoulders slumped said enough. Jake reached over, giving his arm a squeeze, grounding him. “It’s… it’s your turn,” Ni-ki said softly, his voice cracking as he glanced at Jungwon. The leader froze for a second, then nodded, jaw tightening as though bracing himself for battle. Jungwon rose slowly, hands clenched at his sides. He walked past Ni-ki, giving his shoulder the lightest tap of reassurance, though it felt more like he was reassuring himself. Then, with a steadying inhale, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The air felt different immediately. He closed the door gently behind him, his eyes falling on Sunoo’s small frame lost among the hospital sheets. The sight made his chest ache, the leader in him screaming that he should’ve stopped this, that he should’ve protected him better. He walked forward, pulling the chair closer. His movements were quiet but heavy, like each step carried the weight of his guilt. When he finally sat, he reached for Sunoo’s hand, careful, almost afraid of hurting him further.

“Sunoo-yah…” His voice cracked on the name, softer than it had ever been in meetings, rehearsals, or scoldings. He threaded his fingers through Sunoo’s and held on, firm but gentle. “I’m sorry. I should’ve been there. I should’ve kept you safe. That’s my job, isn’t it? To protect you. To protect everyone. But especially you hyung.” He swallowed hard, his other hand coming up to rest over their joined ones. “You’re always smiling, always bright, even when you’re tired. You never let it show. You take care of us in ways we don’t even notice sometimes. And I…” He trailed off, his throat tight, eyes stinging as he leaned forward. “I failed you.”

For a moment, he couldn’t speak, only staring at Sunoo’s peaceful face, willing his eyes to flutter open, to tell him it was okay, to tell him he didn’t need to carry this alone. But the silence pressed harder against him. Jungwon exhaled shakily, bending closer, his forehead hovering just above Sunoo’s arm. “You’re not just a member. You’re not just my responsibility. You’re my heart, Sunoo hyung. All of us love you, but I… I need you. Don’t make me lead without you. Please.” The plea broke into the room like glass shattering, quiet but sharp, raw. Jungwon squeezed his hand tighter, as if trying to pour every ounce of his strength into Sunoo through that single touch.

“Wake up soon,” he whispered, closing his eyes. “I don’t care if you yell at me for being bossy, I’ll take it. I just… I need you back.”

Jungwon let himself lean in fully, resting his head on Sunoo’s arm, letting the beeping monitor fill the silence as his silent tears soaked into the hospital sheet.

He stayed like that for a while, forehead pressed against Sunoo’s arm, listening to the steady rhythm of the monitor as if it were the only thing tethering him to reality. Each beep was proof. Sunoo was still here. Still breathing. Still fighting. Jungwon finally lifted his head, wiping quickly at his damp cheeks with the sleeve of his hoodie. His hand never left Sunoo’s, though; he squeezed it one last time, firmer now, grounding himself. “I’ll be stronger for you,” he murmured, voice rough but steady. “I promise. No one will touch you again. Not while I’m here.” He leaned down, pressing the gentlest kiss to Sunoo’s knuckles, lingering there for just a heartbeat before pulling back. The guilt still weighed on him, but there was resolve in his eyes now, something harder under the grief.

“Rest well, hyung,” he whispered, finally pushing himself to his feet. “I’ll be right outside.”

With that, Jungwon let go, forcing himself toward the door. When he stepped back into the hall, the others looked up immediately, but he didn’t speak, just gave a small nod, his expression unreadable except for the fierce determination burning beneath his exhaustion.

Sunghoon rose quietly from his seat when Jungwon stepped out. Their eyes met for the briefest second. Jungwon’s damp lashes, the tightened jaw, the silent nod and Sunghoon understood without words. He didn’t need to ask how Sunoo was; the heaviness in Jungwon’s expression said everything. Pushing his hands into his pockets, Sunghoon walked down the short hall, his footsteps softer than usual. When he entered the room, the quiet greeted him like an old friend, wrapping around his shoulders in a way that made his throat tighten. The faint smell of antiseptic lingered, sharp and sterile, but beneath it was the soft sound of the monitor keeping time with Sunoo’s fragile breaths.

He moved to the chair slowly, pulling it close enough to the bed that his knee brushed against the frame. For a moment, he just stared at Sunoo, at the pale cheeks, the bandaged arm resting outside the blanket, the lashes that lay like shadows across his skin. “You scare me too much, you know that?” Sunghoon whispered, his voice breaking the silence. He reached for Sunoo’s hand, holding it carefully in his own. His thumb brushed lightly over the back, tracing invisible circles as if he could smooth away the pain beneath. “You always act so strong. You smile for us, laugh for us… but when you get hurt like this, it reminds me how fragile you really are.” He let out a soft laugh, but it cracked halfway, more sorrow than amusement. “And I hate it. I hate that I can’t protect you every second. I hate that you’re lying here instead of nagging me about leaving my socks on the floor or stealing your snacks.”

For a long moment, he just sat there, thumb stroking the back of Sunoo’s hand. His eyes softened, voice lowering even more. “I love you, Sunoo. We all do. But me… I don’t say it enough, do I? You make me warm in a way no one else can. And when you’re not smiling, it feels like the whole world loses color.” He leaned closer, his forehead brushing gently against the back of Sunoo’s hand. His words came out quieter, raw. “So please… please come back to us. To me. I’ll wait as long as it takes, but don’t keep me waiting too long.”

The room swallowed his plea, the only answer the steady beep of the monitor. Sunghoon closed his eyes, letting the rhythm seep into him, steadying his breath against the quiet hum of the machines. His fingers tightened around Sunoo’s just slightly, as though anchoring himself. He stayed like that a little while longer before finally lifting his head, pressing a feather-light kiss to Sunoo’s knuckles. “Rest, love,” he whispered, his voice almost a vow. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

But he didn’t move right away. His hand lingered, thumb brushing over Sunoo’s skin like he was memorizing every detail, afraid it might be the last time. His chest ached with the weight of everything unspoken, the things he should’ve told Sunoo in all the countless moments they had shared when they’d laughed until their stomachs hurt, when they’d fallen asleep shoulder to shoulder on the couch, when Sunoo had looked at him with that soft, trusting gaze that made him feel like the safest person in the world.

“You don’t even realize, do you?” Sunghoon murmured, his voice almost too soft for the room. “How much you hold us together. How much you hold me together.” He paused, biting down on his lower lip as tears threatened again. “You’re the light that makes this whole stupid, chaotic life bearable. Without you…” His words broke, the end trailing into silence. Leaning closer, he let his forehead rest briefly against Sunoo’s hand, breathing in deeply, as if trying to draw strength from the boy who lay so still. “You promised you wouldn’t leave me,” he whispered, a tiny, broken confession slipping free. “So don’t. Please.”

When he finally pulled back, his movements were reluctant, like his body was fighting against the reality of leaving. He pressed one more kiss, slower this time, to Sunoo’s knuckles, then gently set his hand back on the bed, tucking the blanket around it carefully as though it might keep him warmer. Only then did he rise from the chair, his eyes lingering on Sunoo’s face for one last, fragile moment. “I’ll be outside,” he said softly, his voice steadier than before, though the sorrow still lingered underneath. “When you wake up, I want you to see me there first.”

And with that, Sunghoon turned, walking to the door with a quiet heaviness. He hesitated before pulling it open, casting one final glance back at the boy who meant more to him than words could ever hold. Then, with a breath that felt like tearing himself apart, he slipped into the hall. The hallway was quiet when Sunghoon stepped out, the door clicking softly shut behind him. Six pairs of eyes lifted immediately, searching his face for any sign, any clue of how Sunoo was. Sunghoon kept his expression calm, but the slight redness around his eyes betrayed him.

Ni-ki shifted first, leaning forward in his chair. “Hyung…?” Sunghoon shook his head gently, lowering himself into the empty seat beside him. “He’s still sleeping,” he said, his voice low, steady, but weighted with something deeper. His gaze fell to the floor, hands clasping together tightly. “He looks… fragile. But he’s fighting.” The others sat in silence, each word sinking into them like stones. Jake rubbed his palms against his knees, restless, while Jay stared at the floor with his jaw clenched tight. Jungwon’s hands curled into fists against his thighs, and Heeseung’s leg bounced without him even realizing it.

After a long moment, Sunghoon exhaled, finally lifting his eyes to meet theirs. “He’s going to need us more than ever,” he said softly, conviction threading through his tone. “Every single one of us. So, we stay strong for him, no matter what.” The quiet hum of the hospital around them filled the space after his words, but none of them moved. It was Jay who finally broke the silence, his voice rough. “Who’s going in next?” All eyes shifted to Heeseung. The eldest straightened slowly, swallowing the lump in his throat. For a second, he looked almost like he wanted to refuse, to push it off, but then he caught Sunghoon’s steady gaze and nodded.

“I’ll go,” Heeseung said, rising to his feet. His shoulders squared as if preparing for the weight he knew would hit the second he walked through that door.

He started down the hall, each step deliberate, until he reached the door. His hand hovered on the knob, heart thundering against his ribs. He glanced back once, just briefly, meeting the others’ eyes. Then, with a quiet breath, he pushed the door open and slipped inside.

The room greeted him with the same soft, sterile quiet that had wrapped around the others, but for Heeseung, it felt heavier like the silence itself knew how much was resting on his shoulders. He shut the door behind him carefully, the click sounding far too loud in the stillness, and for a long moment, he just stood there, staring. Sunoo looked impossibly small against the crisp white sheets, his chest rising and falling in a fragile rhythm, his hand still resting outside the blanket as though waiting to be held. Heeseung’s throat tightened. He had seen Sunoo asleep countless times, on the van rides, on the dorm couch, tucked into his own bed, into Heeseung's bed, but this wasn’t the same. This was different. Too still. Too quiet.

Dragging the chair closer, Heeseung sank into it, elbows on his knees, hands steepled in front of his mouth. He stayed like that for a while, just watching, just listening to the steady beeps of the monitor that reminded him Sunoo was still here. Still fighting. Finally, he reached out, fingers trembling slightly as they brushed over Sunoo’s. He laced their hands together, his grip firm, grounding himself. “Sunoo-yah…” His voice came out hoarse, thick with emotion. He cleared his throat and tried again, softer this time. “Do you have any idea what you mean to us? To me?” He let out a quiet laugh, but it cracked halfway. “You’re the youngest after Ni-ki and Jungwon, but sometimes… sometimes you feel like the oldest. You’re the one who notices when I’m tired. You’re the one who nags me to eat when I forget. You’re the one who reminds me I don’t have to be perfect all the time.” His thumb stroked absently over Sunoo’s hand, each word growing heavier. “You take care of me in ways I don’t deserve. And now here you are, lying here, and I can’t do anything for you.”

His jaw tightened, his eyes shimmering as he leaned closer. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve protected you. That’s my job as the oldest. If anyone should’ve gotten hurt, it should’ve been me, not you.” The confession broke out of him, raw and jagged. He bowed his head, his forehead brushing against Sunoo’s arm, his grip tightening like he could somehow anchor Sunoo to him, to life. “Don’t you dare give up on me. Don’t you dare,” he whispered, his voice fierce even through the tremor. “Because I don’t know how to keep going without you. You’re the light of this group, our glue, our warmth. My warmth.”

He stayed like that, listening to the steady beep of the monitor, clinging to it as though it were proof Sunoo had heard him. Slowly, he lifted his head, his gaze softening as it traced the delicate curve of Sunoo’s face. Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to Sunoo’s temple, lingering there for just a heartbeat. “I love you,” he murmured, the words steady, firm, unshakable. “More than I can ever say. So, you’d better wake up soon, or I’ll never forgive you.” He squeezed Sunoo’s hand one last time, then reluctantly set it back against the blanket, tucking it in with careful precision as if the act itself could shield him from harm. Rising from the chair, Heeseung gave one last long look, his eyes burning with something fierce, something protective, something devoted.

Then, with a deep breath, he turned and walked to the door, each step heavy with the weight of everything he hadn’t said but everything he hoped Sunoo already knew.

When Heeseung slipped out, Jay stood almost immediately, like he’d been waiting for the signal. He didn’t look at anyone as he walked down the short hallway, his steps too quick, too sharp for the heavy quiet around them. His hand lingered on the doorknob for a breath, then he turned it, pushing his way inside.

The sight hit him like a punch.

Sunoo, pale against the white sheets, his body still, his lips colorless, it was all wrong. Jay’s chest tightened painfully, his breath catching as he shut the door behind him. He pressed his back against it for a second, grounding himself before he forced his legs to move forward. The chair scraped softly as he pulled it close. He sat, elbows resting on his knees, eyes fixed on Sunoo’s face. For a long moment, he didn’t speak. His throat felt too tight, words caught somewhere between anger and grief. Finally, he reached out, taking Sunoo’s hand into both of his. His grip was firm, almost desperate, as though letting go wasn’t an option.

“You idiot,” Jay whispered, his voice cracking. He let out a shaky laugh that wasn’t really a laugh at all. “You scared the hell out of me. Do you even know what it felt like? Watching you fall like that? Seeing the blood?” He closed his eyes, his jaw clenching, his head shaking slightly. “I’ve never been that terrified in my life. Watching Jake hold your bleeding body.”
When he opened his eyes again, softer now, his gaze fell to their joined hands. His thumb traced over Sunoo’s skin gently, a silent apology, a silent plea. “You don’t even realize how much I love you, do you? How much we all do. But me… Sunoo, you’re everything. You’re stubborn and you nag, and you roll your eyes when I mess up, but you’re also… you’re warmth. You’re home.”

His voice wavered, raw. “And the thought of losing you—” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “I can’t. I won’t. You can’t do that to me.” He leaned forward, pressing his lips to the back of Sunoo’s hand, lingering there as if the contact might wake him, might anchor him back to them. “I love you,” he whispered against his skin. “So much it hurts. So don’t you dare leave me. Don’t you dare.” For a while, Jay just sat there, his hands clasped tightly around Sunoo’s, head bowed. The monitor’s steady beeps filled the silence, each one digging deeper into him, reminding him that Sunoo was still here, still fighting. Slowly, Jay lifted his head, his eyes softer now, glistening with unshed tears.

“Come back to me,” he said firmly, squeezing Sunoo’s hand again. “To us. We’re waiting.” He stayed a little longer, his thumb continuing its steady, soothing strokes across Sunoo’s hand, before finally forcing himself to rise. He let go slowly, almost reluctantly, and brushed a strand of hair from Sunoo’s forehead before leaning down to press a kiss there.

“I’ll see you soon,” he murmured, his voice low but steady. Then, with one last long look, Jay turned and left the room, his heart heavy but burning with fierce devotion.

Jay stepped back into the hallway, closing the door softly behind him. The others’ heads lifted immediately, all eyes following his every move. He paused, taking a shaky breath before sinking into the empty seat, his shoulders tense, fingers still brushing together as if holding on to the remnants of the moment.

“You’re shaking,” Ni-ki said quietly, voice tight as he leaned forward, worry etched across his face. “I… I just… it’s a lot,” Jay admitted, running a hand through his hair. “Seeing him like that… hearing him scared, being so fragile, it hits harder than I expected. Every time, it just—” He stopped, swallowing against the lump in his throat. “I can’t even describe it.”
Sunghoon’s hand hovered near Jay’s for a moment before he gave a faint squeeze. “We’re all feeling it,” he said softly. “We’ve seen him get hurt, we’ve been terrified, but being here, seeing him like that, it makes it real. Makes it… raw.”

Ni-ki leaned against Sunghoon, still trembling slightly. “I just… I can’t imagine if something had happened. He’s all of ours, and I can’t lose him. Not to anyone.” Jungwon’s gaze was fixed on the floor, jaw tight. “We won’t. That’s the thing. We’re here. Every single one of us. He might be small, but he’s ours, and we won’t let him face this alone. We’ll protect him even if it kills us.” Heeseung let out a quiet sigh, running a hand over his face. “I hate knowing someone out there could hurt him. I hate that this is real. But seeing him… knowing he’s still here, even sleeping… it gives me some relief. We just have to stay strong for him.”

Ni-ki nodded quickly, eyes wide. “Every single one of us. Always. No matter what.” Jay leaned back, letting the tension in his shoulders ease just a fraction. “He’s asleep now, but we all know the second he wakes up, we’ll need to be ready. Not just for him but for whoever thinks they can hurt him again. He’s ours, all of us, and no one’s taking him.” Jake, who had been quiet up until now, finally spoke, voice low and steady but fierce. “We all saw it. Every scar, every panic. But we’re stronger than fear. Stronger than the stalker. He’s going to wake up, and we’ll be here. Every single one of us.”

Silence settled over the room for a moment after that, not empty but heavy with shared resolve. Each member drew comfort from the others’ presence, hands brushing, shoulders leaning, eyes meeting with unspoken promises. Even in the quiet, their devotion to Sunoo radiated like a shield around them. Finally, Ni-ki whispered, almost to himself, “He’s going to wake up soon. And we’ll all be right there. No one’s taking him from us.” The others nodded in agreement, their own hearts steadying in the fragile but undeniable truth: Sunoo was theirs, and they would protect him with everything they had.

The room remained heavy, but now their focus shifted from relief to the raw, simmering tension of reality.

“This isn’t just going to stop,” Heeseung said finally, voice sharp, eyes narrowing. “We can’t assume the security kicking him out is enough. That guy’s already proven he doesn’t care about boundaries.” Ni-ki shivered, hugging his knees to his chest. “But what if he comes back? What if it’s worse next time? Sunoo hyung… he-he doesn’t deserve any of this.” Sunghoon’s jaw tightened. “None of us do. But we have to prepare for it. We can’t be reactive; we have to be proactive. Security, surveillance, everything. We can’t leave a single gap.” Jake leaned forward, hands clasped together tightly. “And even then… even with all that, someone like this doesn’t stop. He’s obsessed. He’s not thinking clearly. He’ll find a way, and the worst-case scenario? It’s unthinkable. I don’t even want to imagine it.”

Jungwon’s voice was lower, calmer, but his eyes were hard. “We’ve been too lenient with him, too careful not to scare him off, too careful to not make it public. We’ve assumed distance alone would protect Sunoo, but it hasn’t. We can’t underestimate this. Not ever.” Jay ran a hand through his hair, frustration spilling over. “So what do we do? We can’t just sit here while he’s asleep and hope nothing happens. We can’t keep reacting; we have to take control. Someone needs to be planning every step, every outing, every rehearsal, every moment Sunoo leaves the dorm.”

Ni-ki’s eyes flicked up at him, anxious. “But what about Sunoo hyung? He’ll feel trapped if we smother him too much. I don’t want to make him feel like he can’t live his life.” Heeseung’s jaw tightened, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. “We can’t let him choose to face this alone either. He doesn’t have to live in fear, but he also doesn’t get to face a psycho with a knife by himself. Not again. Not ever.” Sunghoon’s hand drummed against his knee, sharp and restless. “We’re all responsible. Each of us. We let him go to the convenience store the other day… we should’ve gone together. We should’ve done more. He could’ve-” His voice broke, and he pressed a hand over his mouth.

Jake exhaled harshly, shaking his head. “Enough guilt. Feeling bad doesn’t fix this. We need a plan. Someone stays with him every second he’s out, we tighten security, and we make sure we know who this guy is. Full stop.” Jungwon’s eyes swept the room, taking in every single member. “We’re in this together. Sunoo hyung isn’t just someone we care about, he’s all of ours. And if anyone thinks they can hurt him again, they’re going to have to get through all of us first. That’s non-negotiable.”

Ni-ki nodded, biting his lip, determination mixing with fear. “Then… we do it. All of us. No gaps, no mistakes. We’ll protect him, I promise.” Jay’s voice softened slightly, a quiet undercurrent beneath the tension. “We just… we need to make sure he knows he’s not alone. Not for a second. He has to feel it, that we’re right here, and that he’s safe with us.”
Heeseung exhaled slowly, his gaze on the door that led to Sunoo’s room. “It’s going to take all of us, every single second. But we can do it. We have to. For him.”

The group fell into a heavy silence, the weight of responsibility pressing down, but in that quiet, there was also a flicker of something unbreakable. Fear, guilt, panic—it was all there but stronger still was their devotion. They were ready to do whatever it took.

Because Sunoo was theirs. And they would never, ever let anyone hurt him again. (Heh...not if I have anything to do about it...)

---
To Be Continued...

Chapter Text

---
10 Days Before The Concert

The hospital wing was unnervingly quiet. Hours had bled into each other, the steady beeping of machines and the faint hum of air conditioning a constant backdrop. Most of ENHYPEN sat slumped in the waiting room chairs, lost somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, their exhaustion hanging over them like a storm cloud. Ni-ki hadn’t been able to close his eyes. He had been listening to the sound of nurses shuffling by, the occasional click of the elevator doors, the silence stretching too long. His mind replayed Sunoo’s pale face, his body slumped in the members’ arms after the attack. The image was carved into his memory like a scar, one he couldn’t look away from no matter how hard he tried.

Then it happened.

A faint sound from down the hall. At first Ni-ki thought he had imagined it. But then it came again, muffled, broken. A cry. Ni-ki was on his feet before he even realized it, heart leaping to his throat. He sprinted down the hall, sneakers squeaking against the tile, and shoved open Sunoo’s door.

“Hyung—!”

The sight nearly knocked the air out of him. Sunoo was tossing violently against the sheets, his chest heaving, breath jagged. Tears streaked down his face even as his eyes stayed closed, trapped in a nightmare. His hands clawed at the air, as if trying to push someone away. “No… stop… please… don’t hurt me—” His broken voice cracked like glass, each word slicing through Ni-ki’s chest. “Sunoo!” Ni-ki rushed to his side, hands shaking as he grabbed his hyung’s shoulders. “It’s me...it’s Riki, wake up! You’re safe, you’re safe!” His voice broke, desperation slipping through as he tried to still him. “Hyung, please, it’s just a dream!” But Sunoo only thrashed harder, sobs tumbling out in gasps. “I don’t want to die...! I don’t want to die, please…”

Ni-ki’s throat tightened so harshly it burned. “Hyung—” His arms wrapped tight around Sunoo, pulling him in against his chest. He didn’t know what else to do except hold on as Sunoo trembled violently. “I’ve got you. I promise. No one’s gonna touch you again. Not while I’m here.” The commotion must have carried, because within seconds the door burst open. “Sunoo Hyung!” Jungwon’s voice was sharp, panicked, as he stumbled in first. The others weren’t far behind. Jake, Jay, Sunghoon, and Heeseung all crowding around the bed, faces pale with fear.

“What happened?!” Jake’s voice cracked as his eyes darted between Ni-ki and Sunoo’s shaking form.

“He-he’s having a nightmare,” Ni-ki stammered, his own tears blurring his vision. He looked helplessly at the others, clutching Sunoo tighter. “He won’t wake up.”

“Let me try,” Jungwon said quickly, stepping forward. His hands were gentle as he cupped Sunoo’s face, brushing damp hair off his forehead. “Sunoo, it’s me. It’s Wonnie. You’re safe, okay? You’re with us.”

“Sunoo-yah,” Heeseung’s voice came low, steady, from the other side of the bed. The eldest leaned closer, his large hand covering Sunoo’s trembling one. “Listen to me, it’s just a dream. You’re safe. We’re here.” Jake knelt at the bedside, brushing his thumb over the back of Sunoo’s hand. “Sunshine, open your eyes for us, please.” His tone wavered between coaxing and begging. Jay leaned in close, voice softer than it had been in days. “Come back to us, love. You’re stronger than this.” Slowly, with their voices surrounding him like anchors, Sunoo’s lashes fluttered. His eyes cracked open, glassy and wide with terror. The second they focused on Ni-ki’s face, his hands clutched desperately at the fabric of his shirt.

“Riki—” His voice broke on a sob. “He was here. He was here, he-he’s going to kill me.” Ni-ki’s chest crumbled. “No, no, hyung, shhh.” He tucked Sunoo tighter against him, rocking slightly as if he were made of glass. “He’s not here. He’ll never touch you again. I won’t let him.” Sunoo’s sobs grew louder, words spilling out like shattered glass. “I can’t...-I can’t sleep, he’s everywhere...I don’t want to die, Riki, I don’t want to—”

“Stop,” Jungwon whispered fiercely, leaning closer, his own eyes wet. He pressed his forehead to Sunoo’s. “You’re not dying. Not now, not ever. We’ll protect you. All of us.”

“Yes,” Sunghoon added, brushing a thumb under Sunoo’s wet cheek. “He won’t get close again. Not while we’re breathing.”

“He’s not stronger than seven of us,” Jake muttered, his voice sharp with something darker.

“Exactly,” Jay said, firm and certain. “You’re ours, Sunoo. And we don’t lose what’s ours.”

Heeseung’s hand cupped the back of Sunoo’s head, pulling him against his chest. “It’s okay to be scared,” he murmured. “But don’t you ever believe you’re alone. We’re right here.”
Their voices layered, tangled together, promises, reassurances, vows whispered into the cracks of Sunoo’s fear. Surrounded on every side, he sagged into them, the tremors slowly subsiding though his tears still fell. Exhaustion, cruel and heavy, finally pulled him under again, his breathing evening out against Ni-ki’s shoulder.
The room fell into silence except for the sound of his breaths.

Ni-ki looked up at the others, his face streaked with tears. “He thought he was going to die,” he whispered hoarsely. “Hyung really thought he wasn’t safe even with us.” Heeseung’s jaw clenched, the muscle ticking. His hand remained on Sunoo’s back as his gaze swept the group. “Then we’ll make him safe,” he said, tone low, certain. “No matter what it takes.”
The others exchanged heavy, grim looks. They knew he meant it. They all did.

The room stayed hushed after Sunoo finally went still, his soft breaths steadying against Ni-ki’s chest. Nobody moved right away; it was as if the entire group was afraid that if they so much as shifted, Sunoo’s fragile calm would shatter. Ni-ki cradled him carefully, arms wrapped protectively, his cheek resting on top of Sunoo’s hair. His tears had dried into faint streaks, but his eyes were still red, his breathing unsteady. He looked more like a child than ever, the weight of everything pressing too heavily against his small shoulders. Jake was the first to break the silence, his voice low. “That was worse than earlier. He… he really believed it was happening again.” His hand lingered over Sunoo’s wrist, thumb stroking lightly. “I’ve never heard him sound that scared.”

“He shouldn’t have to sound like that at all,” Jungwon muttered, his fists still clenched tightly on his knees. His eyes never left Sunoo’s face, watching every little twitch, as if guarding him even in his dreams.

Jay let out a long breath, leaning back in the chair beside the bed, his hands clasped together tightly. “He thought he was going to die,” he said quietly, echoing Ni-ki’s earlier words. His jaw flexed. “Do you know what that does to someone? To believe they’re that close to—” He cut himself off, shaking his head. His voice dropped even lower. “It changes you. And not for the better.” Heeseung’s gaze softened as it rested on Sunoo, his hand rubbing slow, steady circles along his back. “Then we make sure he never feels that way again.” The conviction in his voice left no room for argument. Sunghoon tilted his head back against the wall, eyes closed, voice rough with emotion. “It’s not fair. He’s always been the one keeping us together. Smiling for us, scolding us, making us laugh… and now look at him.” His hand twitched slightly, as if fighting the urge to grab Sunoo’s hand again. “He doesn’t deserve this.”

Ni-ki swallowed hard, tightening his arms around his hyung. “I don’t care what it takes,” he whispered fiercely. “I’ll never let anyone touch him again. Not while I’m alive.” That made the others glance at him startled, maybe, at the raw fire in the maknae’s voice but none of them disagreed.

Jake’s eyes glistened in the dim light. “We’re already a family, we're lovers. But now… I don’t care what people think. He’s ours. And we protect what’s ours.” Jungwon’s lips pressed into a thin line, his voice quiet but sharp. “I don’t care if we have to fight tooth and nail. We’ll keep him safe.” The silence that followed was heavier than before, filled with the weight of unspoken truths. They were terrified, terrified for him, terrified of what might come next. But beneath that fear, stronger still, was love. The kind that wrapped around Sunoo like armor, that bound seven souls into one unbreakable vow.

The clock ticked past 2 a.m. Still, none of them moved to leave. They stayed crowded close to the hospital bed, some perched in chairs, others leaning against the wall, and Ni-ki still holding Sunoo as though he’d never let go.

When Sunoo stirred in his sleep, whimpering softly, the room came alive with immediate whispers.

“It’s okay, baby.”
“We’re here, don’t worry.”
“Just sleep, sunshine.”

The words overlapped, a blanket of sound, until Sunoo stilled again.
Hours stretched on like that, seven boys keeping vigil through the night, their eyes weary but unwavering. The world outside the hospital kept spinning, but inside that room, time slowed to a fragile heartbeat, every second anchored by the boy sleeping in their arms.

---

The first rays of morning light slipped through the blinds, brushing pale stripes across the hospital floor. Machines beeped steadily in the background, too loud in the silence, as Sunoo stirred against his pillow. His eyes cracked open slowly, the weight of exhaustion still heavy in his bones. His body ached at his side where the stitches lay, his chest from the sobbing that had torn through him hours before. And worst of all, his heart throbbed with the echo of the nightmare, the memory of his own voice screaming words he hadn’t meant anyone to hear.

When he finally blinked into clarity, the sight before him made his lips part in disbelief.

The others were all there.

Ni-ki sat slumped against the mattress, head pillowed against Sunoo’s arm, still holding onto his hand even in sleep. Jungwon had claimed the chair beside the bed, his head tilted back, mouth parted as he dozed. Jay and Sunghoon were curled awkwardly in the corner chairs, Jay’s jacket draped over both of them. Jake was on the floor, back against the wall, arms crossed, though his eyes were only half-shut, stubbornly fighting sleep. And Heeseung, Heeseung had settled closest of all, leaning over the side of the bed with his head resting near Sunoo’s shoulder, his large hand still protectively resting on Sunoo’s arm.

The sight was overwhelming. A lump caught in Sunoo’s throat as he tried to swallow it down. His chest tightened, not from fear this time, but from something equally dangerous, love.

He shifted slightly, and the smallest sound must have been enough. Ni-ki’s head shot up, his eyes bleary but immediately alert. “Hyung?” His voice was rough with sleep. The motion woke the others too, and soon six pairs of eyes were fixed on him, relief flooding their tired faces. “You’re awake,” Jake said, exhaling like he had been holding his breath all night.
Sunoo tried to push himself up, but Heeseung was immediately there, guiding him carefully. “Easy,” the eldest murmured. “No rushing. You need to rest.”

“I… I’m fine,” Sunoo mumbled, though his voice betrayed the weakness he felt. He hated the way his hands trembled, the way his throat burned with embarrassment. “About last night...I-”

“There’s nothing to explain,” Jungwon cut in firmly, leaning closer. “You had a nightmare. That’s normal after everything.”

“Exactly,” Sunghoon agreed, brushing hair out of his eyes. “We’re not judging you. If anything, we should’ve been there sooner.” Ni-ki squeezed his hand tightly. “You don’t need to apologize, hyung.” Sunoo’s eyes watered despite himself. His lips wobbled as he tried to hide it, but Jake noticed, his heart twisting. Without a word, Jake reached up to gently brush a tear from his cheek, his thumb warm and steady. “Eat something,” Jay said, standing and stretching. He picked up the tray the nurse had left earlier, placing it on Sunoo’s lap. “Hospital food isn’t gourmet, but you need strength. We’ll make sure you eat every bite.”

Sunoo stared down at the tray, at the members all hovering, and the tears finally spilled over. “You guys are too much,” he whispered, though his smile wavered. “I don’t deserve this.”

“Yes, you do,” Heeseung said instantly, tone sharp with certainty. His hand brushed Sunoo’s hair back. “More than any of us.”

“Hyung,” Ni-ki whispered softly, clinging to him tighter, “we need you. Always.”

The room filled with warmth, affection layered into every touch, every glance. For a moment, the nightmare felt far away. But then Jungwon’s voice broke the fragile peace. “Wait,” he murmured, his eyes narrowing at the corner of the room. He pushed up from his chair and crossed to the little side table, where a bouquet of lilies sat in a glass vase.

The others followed his gaze.

“Who sent those?” Jay asked, standing quickly. Jungwon’s hand hovered over the small card tucked into the flowers. He hesitated, then pulled it out. His face drained of color as he read. “What is it?” Heeseung demanded, rising to his feet immediately. Jungwon’s voice was low, but every word fell like ice. “Sleep well, my doll. I’ll be seeing you soon.”

The room froze.

Jake cursed under his breath, his hands balling into fists. Sunghoon surged to his feet, his chair scraping back against the floor. Ni-ki’s arms tightened around Sunoo instinctively, pulling him closer. Sunoo’s heart dropped into his stomach, his breath catching. His eyes widened, fear flooding them, and he shook his head desperately. “No… no, he can’t be here-he can’t—” Heeseung crushed the card in his hand, fury blazing in his eyes. “Security said they had this under control. Clearly, they don’t.” His voice was dangerously low, trembling with rage he couldn’t contain. Jay took a sharp breath, his voice tight. “If he can get flowers into the room, what else can he get in?”

No one had an answer. The only sound was the soft, terrified gasp Sunoo made as he buried his face into Ni-ki’s shoulder.
The room felt less like a refuge and more like a cage.

---
Updated Chapter starting from here

---

The card still crumpled in Heeseung’s hand as the door slammed open. He stormed down the hall with Jake and Jay right on his heels, the fluorescent lights glaring overhead. Jungwon and Sunghoon trailed just behind, their expressions sharp, every step brimming with restless anger. The nurses at the station looked up, startled by the sudden arrival of four furious young men. Heeseung slapped the card down on the counter, his voice a whipcrack. “Explain this.”

The head nurse blinked, flustered. “S-sir, what is—”

“Don’t play dumb,” Jay snapped, his tone colder than ice. “These flowers were left in Sunoo’s room. Who authorized that? Who let someone walk in there?” The nurse’s face paled, eyes darting to the vase clutched under Jungwon’s arm. The lilies looked harmless under the harsh hospital lights, but the note… the note was poison. “That shouldn’t have been possible,” another nurse stammered. “All visitors are logged. Security checks every—”

“Clearly not well enough,” Sunghoon cut in, his voice low and dangerous. His hands curled into fists at his sides. “The person who’s been attacking him managed to get inside. Do you understand how insane that is? He’s supposed to be safe here.” Jake leaned over the counter, his jaw clenched, voice shaking with suppressed fury. “We trusted you. We thought here he’d finally get to breathe without fear, and you let this happen. Again.” Heeseung’s tone rose, commanding the entire station’s attention. “If you can’t guarantee Sunoo’s safety, we’ll take him somewhere that can.” His eyes blazed, daring anyone to argue.

The head nurse swallowed, clearly rattled, and reached for the phone. “I’ll call security immediately—”

“Not just security,” Jungwon interrupted sharply. He rarely raised his voice, but now it carried a weight that silenced the room. “We want cameras checked. Every hallway, every entrance. Whoever brought those in is on footage, and if you don’t pull it, we will.” Jay’s voice was like fire on gasoline. “And don’t you dare try to cover this up. If you think we won’t go public about a hospital failing to protect a patient from a stalker, think again.” The nurses looked utterly panicked now, scrambling into action as phones were lifted, pages sent. The tension in the hall was thick, electrified, every second stretching like glass about to shatter.

Behind them, Jake’s phone buzzed in his pocket. When he pulled it out, the screen showed a single new notification, an anonymous message.

> Pretty flowers, aren’t they? Shame they’ll wilt before he does.

Jake’s stomach dropped. His blood went cold.

“He’s not just in the hospital,” Jake whispered, his knuckles whitening around the phone. “He’s watching us. Right now.”

The words seemed to freeze the air itself. For a beat, no one moved, no one breathed. Then Heeseung snatched the phone from Jake’s hand, his jaw tightening as he read the message. “Shit,” he muttered, his voice laced with something darker than anger, fear. “We need to move. Now.”

“Sunoo Hyung,” Jungwon gasped, his composure cracking as his head whipped toward the hallway leading back to the room. His legs carried him before anyone could stop him, his sneakers pounding against the sterile tile. Jay cursed under his breath and followed, the others right on his heels. Panic flooded their veins, the thought of Sunoo alone even for a second burning terror into their chests. Back in the room, Sunoo stirred in his bed, eyelashes fluttering at the faint noise outside his door. Ni-ki sat slouched in the chair beside him, headphones hanging loosely around his neck as he kept one ear trained toward the hallway. Sunghoon leaned against the wall, scrolling absently through his phone but with the stiffness of someone who wasn’t actually distracted at all.

The faintest rattle at the door handle made both boys snap to attention.

Ni-ki was on his feet in a second, his tall frame moving instinctively between the bed and the door. “Hyung…” he whispered, his voice tight. Sunoo blinked groggily, confusion flickering in his eyes. “Riki…? What’s—” The door burst open, slamming against the wall. Jungwon was the first inside, eyes scanning every shadow, chest heaving. Jay and Heeseung followed, the others seconds behind, the tension radiating from them like fire. Ni-ki’s eyes widened in relief. “What-what happened?!” Jake’s voice shook as he lifted the phone for them to see, his face ashen. “He’s here. He’s watching. Somewhere in this building.”

Sunoo’s heart stuttered violently against his ribs, fear clawing up his throat. “No…” he whispered, sinking back against the pillows. His hands trembled, gripping the sheets as if they might anchor him in place. Heeseung was already moving, pulling the curtains closed around the window, checking the corners of the room like a man possessed. “From this moment on,” he said, his tone like iron, “no one is left alone. Not for a second. Whoever this is, they want us scared. They want Sunoo scared. And we’re not giving them that satisfaction.”
Sunghoon pressed a hand to Sunoo’s trembling arm, lowering his voice to something softer, steadier. “You’re safe, Sunoo-yah. We’re all here. He’s not getting near you again.”

But even as the words left his lips, Sunoo could feel it. That invisible presence, that suffocating certainty. Someone was watching. And for the first time since this nightmare began, the thought whispered like poison through his mind:

What if they never stop?

---

The silence in the room was suffocating, broken only by the beeping of the heart monitor. Jungwon stood at the door like a guard dog, chest still rising too fast, his eyes scanning the corridor beyond. Ni-ki hadn’t moved from his spot in front of Sunoo, his fists balled at his sides.

Then Heeseung’s phone buzzed again.

Everyone froze.

He glanced at the screen and his jaw clenched. Without a word, he strode out into the hall, the others following like shadows. Sunoo made a small sound of protest, but Jay leaned down, brushing his hair gently off his forehead. “We’ll be right outside,” he promised before shutting the door behind him. “What now?” Jungwon demanded the second they were in the corridor. Heeseung exhaled sharply and turned his phone for them to see. The new message read:

> Check the cameras.

A chill slithered down each of their spines.

Without waiting, Jake grabbed the nearest nurse passing by. “Where’s security?” His voice was sharp enough to draw startled eyes, but he didn’t care. Within minutes, they were crowded in a small, dim security office, the smell of stale coffee heavy in the air. Screens flickered before them, showing every angle of the hospital—the lobby, stairwells, empty corridors. “Rewind the last few hours,” Jay ordered, his tone all steel. The guard hesitated, clearly unnerved by the sudden demand, but one look from Heeseung and he swallowed hard, pressing the keys. The footage sped by, patients and doctors flashing in reverse until finally, Heeseung snapped, “Stop there.”

On one of the side doors was a fire exit camera where someone in a hoodie slipped inside. The time stamp made Jake’s chest tighten. Barely thirty minutes ago. The figure moved with calculated calm, head down, but the camera caught enough: gloved hands, a slight limp, and the way he lingered in the stairwell just out of sight. Jungwon’s stomach turned. “He’s already inside.” The guard paled. “But… but there’s no record, no visitor logged in…”

“Because he’s not a visitor,” Sunghoon spat, his voice low, sharp with fury. “He’s a predator.” They fast-forwarded again, eyes glued to the screen. The hooded figure emerged briefly in a hallway, their hallway then vanished around the corner. The camera blinked once, then the feed cut to static. Jay’s fists slammed down on the desk, the sound cracking like thunder. “He disabled the cameras. He knows exactly what he’s doing.”

For a moment, no one breathed. The realization was brutal, inescapable.

He was in here. Somewhere, right now.

And Sunoo was his target.

---

The air in the security office was suffocating. The static on the monitor crackled faintly, filling the silence no one dared break. Finally, Heeseung turned, his tone sharp but calm and commanding in a way that made everyone straighten. “Lock this floor down. Now.” The guard blinked at him, clearly overwhelmed. “I-I can call it in, but—”

“No ‘but,’” Jay snapped, his eyes like fire. “There’s a man inside your hospital who bypassed security and disabled your cameras. That means he knows the system. He knows where the blind spots are. If you don’t act fast, people will get hurt, our member will get hurt.” The guard swallowed, fumbling for his radio. Within moments, a crackle of voices filled the room, commands flying down the line. “All security units, sweep stairwells and corridors. Floor six priority. Lock side exits.” Jungwon stood rigid near the door, his fists trembling. He wasn’t listening to the guard’s words anymore, just the pounding in his chest. His leader’s instincts screamed to run to Sunoo now, but his rational side, the part trained to weigh risks, knew scattering in panic could make things worse.

Jake’s hands dug into his hair as he paced. “We don’t even know if he’s still on this floor. What if he’s already closer to Sunoo? What if—”

“Stop,” Ni-ki cut in, his voice sharper than they’d ever heard. He was pale, but his eyes burned. “Don’t say it. He’s fine. Sunoo’s fine.” Sunghoon stepped forward, his calm exterior starting to crack around the edges. “We need eyes on every hallway. Now. Where are the blind spots? Where could he hide?” The guard clicked through a map of the building, red dots highlighting camera coverage. Gaps appeared like holes in a net. Stairwell corners. Storage closets. Some patient hallways. Jay leaned over the desk, knuckles white against the wood. “Those spots need to be checked first. No hesitation.”

Another guard entered, panting, his face grim. “East stairwell camera on floor six was cut manually. Tools left behind. He’s… he’s trained.” Heeseung’s expression hardened, his jaw clenched so tight it looked painful. “Then treat him like what he is, a predator who’s hunting our lover.” Jungwon’s voice cracked, but he forced the words out. “Sunoo’s room, double the guards outside. No one in without ID, no exceptions. Not doctors, not nurses, not anyone.” The guards nodded, rushing out. The boys were left in the flickering glow of the monitors, the static screen still mocking them.

For a moment, the room was silent again. Then Jake spoke, his voice trembling. “If he disabled the cameras…” He hesitated, his throat dry. “He could be watching us right now. Listening.” The thought made Sunghoon’s skin crawl. He glanced at the small vent in the corner of the room, then the mirror-like reflection of the black screen. The feeling of being observed pressed down on them like a weight.

---

The quiet of the hospital room was unbearable.

Sunoo lay back against the pillows, the sterile white sheets tucked around him, the steady beep… beep… beep of the monitor filling the silence. Normally, the sound comforted him, a reminder that he was still here, still alive, but right now it only made his chest feel tighter, like each beat was counting down to something inevitable. He turned his head slightly. The chair beside his bed was empty, still warm from where Ni-ki had been sitting earlier. The blanket the younger had draped over his lap was folded on the armrest, as if he’d only stepped out for a second.

But that second felt like forever.

“Where are you guys…?” Sunoo whispered, his voice barely audible in the sterile room. His hand fidgeted with the blanket’s edge, tugging and twisting it between his fingers. He hated the way the air felt heavy, like someone was in here with him even though the door was closed, the blinds drawn.

His mind went back to the way Jake’s eyes had darkened when he came in earlier, how Jay had squeezed his hand like it was the only thing tethering him. How Jungwon had pressed his forehead to his skin, whispering promises like prayers. Each touch, each kiss, each vow, they weren’t just comfort. They were love, pure and fierce, binding him to them in ways words could never reach.

But right now, they weren’t here.

And the silence pressed harder.

A creak echoed from somewhere beyond the door, so faint he thought at first he imagined it. His heart skipped a beat, eyes snapping toward the sound. The knob didn’t move, but the shadow under the crack of the door seemed darker, thicker, as if someone stood just beyond. Sunoo’s breath hitched. He pulled the blanket tighter around him, willing himself to believe it was nothing. Just his nerves. Just the hospital. Still, his hand trembled as it reached for the call button clipped to the bed. His thumb hovered above it, frozen. Don’t be paranoid, he thought. Don’t make them worry more. They’ll just blame themselves again.

Another sound, closer this time. A faint tap against the glass of the window.

Sunoo’s chest tightened so much it hurt. The blinds rattled ever so slightly, like a breeze had slipped through. But the window was closed. He clutched the blanket to his chest, tears stinging his eyes. He wanted them, all of them, Ni-ki’s protective warmth, Jungwon’s leader strength, Jake’s playful tenderness, Sunghoon’s calm touch, Jay’s grounding presence, Heeseung’s quiet steadiness. He wanted to feel their arms around him, the kisses they pressed to his hair, the way they whispered you’re ours, you’re safe, we love you. Because right now, he felt anything but safe.

The handle of the door rattled.

Sunoo’s entire body froze.

The handle rattled again.

Sunoo’s breath caught in his throat, his fingers digging into the blanket so hard his knuckles turned white. He wanted to scream, to cry out for help, but the sound lodged in his chest, strangled by fear. Slowly, painfully, the door creaked open. Just a sliver at first, enough for the fluorescent light of the hallway to bleed into the dim room. The monitor kept beeping beside him, loud and mocking, announcing his heartbeat like a beacon.

No… no, please…

The gap widened an inch more. A shadow fell across the floor, long and unmistakable. Whoever it was, they weren’t hospital staff, the movements were too slow, deliberate, predatory. Sunoo’s tears broke free, slipping hot and fast down his cheeks. He curled tighter under the blanket, clutching it like armor that wasn’t nearly enough. His lips trembled as he mouthed the only words his heart screamed.

Hyung… Wonnie… Riki… Jake… someone… please…

The door pushed open another inch, the sound scraping against the silence like nails. The shadow moved closer. Sunoo pressed his hand to his lips to smother the sob that escaped, chest heaving. His mind spun, every sweet word his lovers had whispered, every kiss they’d pressed to his skin, every vow they’d made to protect him. He clung to those memories as the only shield he had.

Then—

“Sunoo!”

The door slammed open so violently it crashed against the wall, the shadow scattering as light and voices flooded the room. Jungwon barreled in first, eyes blazing, with Jay and Heeseung right behind him. Jake’s voice cut sharp through the chaos, “Get away from him!” The door swung wide, but the hallway was empty. Nothing but sterile walls and silence. Whoever had been there was gone, vanished in seconds. Sunghoon rushed to Sunoo’s side, prying the blanket from his trembling hands just enough to see his face. Tears streaked his cheeks, his lips quivering as he let out a broken sob. “Baby…” Sunghoon whispered, gathering him carefully into his arms. “Shh, we’re here. We’ve got you.” Ni-ki squeezed in next, his tall frame shaking as he pressed his forehead to Sunoo’s. “I should’ve never left, God, hyung, I’m so sorry—”

Sunoo clung to him desperately, sobbing into his chest as the others closed in around the bed, forming a wall of warmth and protection.

“We’re not leaving you alone again,” Heeseung swore, his voice raw, his hand stroking Sunoo’s hair as if to anchor him. Jake pressed a kiss to his temple, whispering fiercely, “You’re safe, love. You’re ours. He can’t have you.” Sunoo’s tears only fell harder at those words, but somewhere beneath the terror, the guilt, the fear… a spark of warmth flickered in his chest. Because no matter how dark it got, they were here.

Sunoo’s sobs shook his whole body, muffled against Ni-ki’s chest as the others crowded close. His fingers clutched desperately at the fabric of Ni-ki’s hoodie, as though letting go meant he’d slip away forever.

“I thought—” His voice cracked, broken and thin. He lifted his face just enough for them to hear him, his cheeks wet, his lashes clumped with tears. “I thought I was gonna die…” The room froze with his words, silence falling heavy like a stone. Jake’s breath hitched audibly. “Sunoo—”

“I saw the door,” Sunoo choked out, his words tumbling in a rush, as if he’d kept them locked inside too long. “I heard the handle, and the shadow… he was right there. And I-I couldn’t move, I couldn’t scream, I just kept thinking—” His hands trembled harder, clutching the blanket, his voice shattering. “This is it. This is the last time I’ll see you. The last time I’ll feel you. I thought I’d never get to say goodbye.” The raw pain in his voice carved through them like knives. Jungwon’s throat closed, his hand trembling as he reached out, threading his fingers through Sunoo’s. “Don’t-don’t say that. You’ll never have to say goodbye. Not to us. Not ever.”

Sunoo shook his head violently, tears spilling faster. “But what if...what if next time you’re not fast enough? What if he gets in before you can stop him? What if—”

Jay cupped his face firmly, cutting him off with a steady touch. His thumb brushed away the tears staining Sunoo’s cheek, his gaze grounding. “Stop. Don’t torture yourself with ‘what ifs,’ love. We’re here. We got to you in time. We’ll always get to you in time.”

“But you can’t promise that!” Sunoo sobbed, his chest heaving with the weight of everything he’d been holding back. “You can’t—” His voice broke into another cry, collapsing into Jay’s chest as the older pulled him in, holding him so tightly it was almost crushing. Heeseung leaned close then, pressing a kiss to Sunoo’s damp hair. His voice shook, low and fierce, as he whispered against him. “You’re right. I can’t promise nothing bad will ever happen again. But I can promise you this, Sunoo: you will never, ever face it alone. Not as long as we breathe.” Jake’s hand slid over his, warm and grounding. “You’re our everything. Do you get that? Our whole world. Losing you isn’t an option.” He pressed a trembling kiss to the back of Sunoo’s hand, his eyes glistening. “Not for any of us.”

Ni-ki tightened his hold, burying his face against Sunoo’s shoulder. His voice cracked, muffled. “You’re not dying on us, hyung. Not now. Not ever.”

Sunghoon stroked his back in slow, soothing circles, his touch steady despite the storm in his eyes. “You don’t have to be strong right now. Cry, scream, break, do whatever you need. We’ll be right here, every second.” And so Sunoo did. He sobbed, broken and raw, pouring out every ounce of fear that had poisoned him since the first threat, the first attack, the first shadow in the dark. His lovers wrapped around him like armor, their whispers and kisses and warmth a barricade against the terror clawing at his heart.

In that moment, even as his body shook and his voice cracked with grief, he knew one truth burned brighter than his fear:

He wasn’t alone. Not now. Not ever.

---
To Be Continued

Chapter Text

10 Days Before The Concert

The door creaked open, the sound sharp against the fragile silence that had settled after Sunoo’s sobs. All seven heads snapped up, tense, protective. Their manager stepped inside slowly, his expression drawn tight with exhaustion and worry. His eyes softened the second they landed on Sunoo, fragile and trembling in Jay’s arms. “...Sunoo.” Jake’s jaw clenched, his arm automatically tightening around Sunoo’s shoulders. “You should’ve been here sooner.” The manager’s lips parted, but no words came right away. He shut the door behind him, lowering his voice. “I know. And I’m sorry.” His gaze swept over each of them, lingering on the redness in their eyes, the tension in their posture. “I was handling security. Making sure he—” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “—doesn’t get close again.”

Jungwon, usually calm, let his frustration break through. “Doesn’t get close again? He was in Sunoo’s room. Alone.” His voice cracked, both leader and lover clashing in his chest. “That’s not almost, that’s too close.” The manager ran a hand through his hair, visibly weighed down. “I know. And I’ll take responsibility. But right now, what matters is tightening protection, not turning on each other.” Ni-ki glared from where he still clung to Sunoo’s hand. “He almost died. And you’re telling us not to ‘turn on each other’? Who can we trust other than each other? What staff can we trust?” His voice was low, dangerous, a tone none of them were used to hearing from their maknae. The manager’s shoulders sagged. He looked at Sunoo again, at his tear-streaked face, and for the first time, the mask of professionalism cracked. His voice softened, almost breaking. “I thought I lost you tonight.”

The room went silent.

Sunoo swallowed hard, shifting slightly against Jay’s chest. His voice was hoarse, shaky. “So did I.” Heeseung leaned forward then, his tone calm but firm. “What’s the plan?” His gaze was steady, cold steel beneath the softness of his touch on Sunoo’s knee. “Because this can’t happen again. Not ever. If you can’t guarantee that, we’ll take matters into our own hands.” The manager held his stare, the weight of the unspoken threat heavy in the air. Finally, he nodded. “Then we make sure it doesn’t. Starting tonight, we triple security. No exceptions. No one gets in or out without clearance. And I’ll personally stay here, outside this room, until he’s discharged.”

Jake’s grip loosened slightly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. But his eyes never left the manager’s, sharp with warning. “If you break that promise, you answer to all of us.”

The manager didn’t flinch. He just nodded again, quietly resolute. “Understood.”

Silence settled again, heavier than before. It wasn’t just the quiet of exhaustion, it was a silence steeped in fear, in the collective realization that none of them could ever let their guard down again. The soft hum of the machines at Sunoo’s bedside filled the space, each steady beep a fragile reminder that he was still here. Jungwon exhaled shakily, rubbing a hand down his face. “I still can’t believe this happened twice,” he murmured, voice low but edged with disbelief. “How did he even get past security again?” The manager sank into one of the visitor chairs, eyes shadowed. “We’re investigating that now. We’ve already reviewed the footage… but it’s like he knew where to go. He avoided every camera until he reached this floor.”

Heeseung’s head lifted sharply. “You’re saying someone might’ve helped him?” The room stiffened. Even Sunoo froze, his trembling hands tightening slightly in Jay’s grasp. The manager hesitated. “…It’s possible.” Jake’s jaw tightened. “Then find out who.”

“I will.” His voice was firm, though fatigue crept through every word. “But for now, I need you all to stay calm. The hospital’s agreed to restrict visitors and place extra guards at the door. I’ll be outside the room myself until morning.”

Ni-ki glanced at Sunoo, worry deepening the frown on his face. “We’re not leaving either.”

“None of us are,” Jay added softly, brushing his thumb over Sunoo’s knuckles. The manager sighed but didn’t argue. “I figured you’d say that.” He stood, straightening his coat. “Then at least rest where you can. You’ve all been through hell tonight.” When the door clicked shut behind him, the quiet returned, this time gentler, though no less heavy. Jake rose first, walking over to adjust the blanket around Sunoo’s legs, tucking it in like muscle memory. Sunghoon moved next, lowering the lights to a softer glow that painted the room in gold and shadow. Jungwon dragged one of the chairs closer to the bed, settling beside Ni-ki, whose fingers hadn’t once let go of Sunoo’s.

Sunoo looked at them, voice barely a whisper. “You guys don’t have to stay up.” Jake let out a quiet laugh that sounded more like a sigh. “Yeah, we do.” Jay smiled faintly, leaning closer. “You’re stuck with us, remember?” That earned a tiny smile from Sunoo. Fragile, fleeting, but real. “Lucky me,” he murmured, eyes fluttering half-shut. Heeseung reached out then, his voice soft but steady. “We’re not letting anything happen to you again. Not while we’re still breathing.”

Sunoo didn’t try to fight his exhaustion. He sank into the warmth surrounding him. Jay’s hand in his, Ni-ki’s head resting against the mattress, the faint rustle of blankets as the others settled in for the night. And though fear still lingered like smoke in the corners of the room, it was met with something stronger, unspoken, but present in every glance, every touch.

Love.

And the silent, unbreakable promise that no matter what came next, he would never face it alone again.

---
9 Days Before The Concert

Morning light filtered weakly through the blinds, spilling across the sterile white of the hospital room. The faint chirping of birds outside mixed with the quiet hum of machines—a soft, fragile kind of peace that didn’t feel quite real. Sunoo stirred first. His eyelashes fluttered open, catching the sunlight in a golden glint, his body sluggish and heavy. The ache in his side reminded him instantly that this wasn’t a nightmare he’d just woken from, it was the aftermath. For a moment, he stayed still, listening. The rhythmic breathing around him grounded him: Ni-ki curled up in a chair beside the bed, Jungwon dozing with his head propped on his hand, Jay slumped over the foot of the bed, and Jake asleep sitting up, his hand still loosely wrapped around Sunoo’s. Sunghoon and Heeseung were by the window, asleep in the uncomfortable visitor couches, both looking like they hadn’t closed their eyes for more than a few minutes at a time.

Sunoo blinked slowly. He felt something ache deep in his chest. Something like guilt, and something like love. They had all stayed.

When he shifted slightly, Jake stirred. His head tilted, eyes cracking open. “...Hey.” His voice was rough, but soft, the kind of word that wrapped around Sunoo like a blanket. “Hey,” Sunoo whispered back, managing a tiny smile. Jake leaned closer, brushing his thumb gently along the back of Sunoo’s hand. “How do you feel?”

“Like I got run over,” Sunoo croaked lightly, and Jake laughed, quiet but real. The sound made Sunoo’s chest loosen just a little. The laughter stirred the others awake one by one. Jay groaned softly, rubbing his face as Jungwon sat up straight with a startled, “Sunoo hyung? You’re awake?” Ni-ki was up in an instant, blinking the sleep from his eyes before leaning forward eagerly. “Hyung, are you okay? Are you hurting?”

“I’m okay,” Sunoo said softly, though his voice wavered. “Just… sore. And tired.”

“Understandable,” Heeseung murmured, running a hand through his messy hair. “You scared the life out of us again.” Sunoo’s smile faded at that, guilt flickering in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to. I just… I didn’t think it would happen again.” Jay leaned forward, his tone gentle but firm. “You don’t need to apologize, Sunoo. None of this is your fault.” Jungwon nodded quickly, expression serious despite the faint puffiness under his eyes. “Yeah. We’re just glad you’re okay. That’s all that matters right now.” Ni-ki sniffed softly, his usual energy subdued. “Still… I wish I’d gone with you. I could’ve stopped him.”
Sunoo looked at him, eyes softening. “You shouldn’t have to protect me all the time, Riki. I’m supposed to be your hyung, remember?”

“But I want to,” Ni-ki mumbled, voice thick, his head bowing a little. “You’re important to me. To all of us.” That last part hit the room quietly but deeply. Sunoo’s eyes shimmered for a second before he reached out, brushing a hand over Ni-ki’s hair. “I know,” he whispered. “You all are important to me too.” There was a long silence after that. Gentle, heavy, full of the kind of emotions words couldn’t hold. Jake was the first to break it, softly saying, “Let’s get breakfast. Hospital food might be bad, but you need something in your stomach.”

“I can eat,” Sunoo said, sitting up a little as Sunghoon helped adjust his pillows. “But please don’t bring me anything weird.” Jay chuckled, smirking slightly. “Define weird. Because Ni-ki was talking about mixing chocolate pudding and rice last night-”

“HYUNG!” Ni-ki protested, his ears turning pink as the room broke into tired laughter.

For a fleeting moment, it almost felt normal again. Just them, laughing, teasing, loving. The weight of fear still lingered like a ghost in the corners, but it couldn’t eclipse this.

The warmth of laughter lingered in the air long after the sound faded. Jay leaned against the foot of Sunoo’s bed, tapping absently on the railing while Jake half-heartedly argued with Sunghoon over which of them made better instant ramen. Heeseung sat by the window, pretending to read the morning news on his phone but really just watching the others with a small, tired smile.

It was quiet, soft. Normal.

Jungwon reached across Sunoo’s tray, stealing a piece of bread before Ni-ki could snatch it. “Hey!” Ni-ki protested, lunging across the table as Sunoo giggled and ducked out of the way. “Kids,” Jay muttered under his breath, but his grin gave him away. Sunoo pressed a hand to his ribs, wincing at the pull of the stitches but refusing to let the smile fall. “You’re all such chaos first thing in the morning.”

“You love it,” Jake teased, bumping his shoulder gently against Sunoo’s. He did. God, he did. The ache in his body was nothing compared to the way his heart swelled watching them like this. His partners, his family, the people who made all of this hurt feel bearable. For a while, there was only the hum of the fluorescent lights, the soft scrape of forks against plastic trays, the comfort of belonging.

Then—
A faint metallic click.

Heeseung’s head jerked up. “Did you guys hear that?” The laughter faltered. Jungwon frowned, glancing toward the door. “What was-” The hospital intercom crackled to life, sharp and loud enough to make them all flinch.

> “Attention all staff and patients. This is a security alert. All wings are to go into lockdown immediately. Please remain in your rooms until further notice.”

The words hit like ice water. The door’s electronic lock gave a dull clunk, sealing them in. Jake stood first. “Lockdown? What the hell-” Sunghoon was already on his feet, moving to the blinds. “Don’t open them,” Heeseung warned quickly, standing too. “If it’s about him, we don’t want to draw attention.” The air thickened. Ni-ki’s breathing quickened as he clutched the edge of Sunoo’s blanket. “Do you think it’s him?”

No one answered.

Somewhere down the hallway, a cart rattled against the floor too fast, too loud to be normal. Footsteps followed. Muffled voices barked orders: “Check every door! No one leaves this floor!”

Sunoo’s hands trembled. Jake noticed immediately, sliding closer, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Hey, look at me. You’re okay, baby. We’re right here.” Sunoo nodded shakily, but his pulse drummed so fast it made his chest hurt. “It’s happening again, isn’t it?” he whispered. Jay crouched in front of him, eyes steady, calm in the way only he could manage. “Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe they’re just being careful.”

“Or maybe they caught someone,” Jungwon said quietly, voice barely audible. The words hung there like smoke. The lights flickered once, twice. Then the hallway went silent. Every sound in the room stopped with it. Sunghoon reached for the curtain rod near the window, yanking it closed in one smooth motion before crossing back to the bed. Heeseung positioned himself by the door, hand hovering near the call button. The rest huddled instinctively closer around Sunoo, whose breathing had turned shallow. A moment later, the intercom crackled again, but this time the voice was lower, rushed.

> “All staff, remain in place. Suspect has not been apprehended. Repeat, suspect is still on the premises.” Ni-ki’s fingers tightened on Sunoo’s blanket. “Suspect…” Heeseung’s jaw clenched. “We’re not moving. Everyone stays right here.” Jay nodded, whispering, “We’ll be fine. Just… breathe.” But outside the door, a shadow passed a fleeting movement under the gap where the light leaked in.
Sunoo froze. Jake’s grip on him tightened.

No one dared to speak.

They didn’t move; the room had shrunk down to the bed and the circle of bodies around it, every breath and rustle magnified against the sterile hush. Sunoo’s fingers dug into the blanket until his nails hurt, and someone, Jake, always the first to act threaded his fingers through his so he could stop clenching. The smallness of the gesture was everything: deliberate, steadfast, a message without words.
Outside, the footsteps paced the hall in irregular patterns. A distant set quick and sharp, another slower and careful and the sound of radio chatter leaked through the door crack like static, voices clipped and urgent. They pressed themselves closer together, a tangle of limbs and murky, teary eyes, and in the dim room their murmurs braided together: plans, reassurances, tiny domestic orders to anchor them to something human.

“Okay,” Jungwon breathed, voice low and precise the way it became when he was both leader and lover, “no one goes out, no one answers the door. If someone knocks, we don’t open. Not even nurses without ID.”

“He’s watching,” Ni-ki whispered, too loud for the air, and the word hung there like a dare. “He… he got in here. He knows where we are.” His breath hitched and he swallowed. “I can’t- I can’t let him near you again.”

“You won’t have to,” Heeseung said, each word slow and heavy with the sort of anger that had nowhere to go but into protection. “Manager’s outside. Security’s been called in. Police will be here; they’ll sweep the building.”

The promise should have been comfort, but the very next sound, the thud of a heavy shoe, followed by another, then the shuffle of a lab cart made them freeze anew. For the space of a heartbeat they all listened like prey, and then, impossibly, a thin, keening wail threaded through the building: the distant, dreadful keening of sirens. At first it was only a thread, then it swelled, a law of sound rolling closer and closer until it felt as if the roof itself recognized the urgency. The sirens rode the city air, urgent and beautiful, and every chest in the room seemed to unclench a fraction. Jay let out a tiny, shaky laugh that turned into a sob and then into some terrible, grateful exhale. “They’re coming,” he whispered, like it was a benediction. “They’re coming.”

Sunghoon lowered his forehead to the curve of Sunoo’s shoulder, breathing him in. Breath steadying breath, and murmured, “When they come, we keep him in the center. We move as one. No heroics, no chasing.” His words were practical and intimate at once, a choreography of safety in the small dark. “Also,” Jake added, voice hoarse but wry, trying to peel a laugh out of his throat, “if anyone tries anything, they’re gonna have to get through every single one of us. That’s a lot of men.” He squeezed Sunoo’s hand until the skin whitened. Sunoo squeezed back, and the pressure said everything he couldn’t form into voice.

Ni-ki started listing quietly, like a child reciting rules he’d been taught: “If they come in, we hide. If they knock, we don’t answer. If the manager says something, he must show ID. If -” His voice broke on the last syllable and Jungwon slid an arm over his shoulder and held him into the fold. There was a practicalness to their whispered planning that steadied the fear: who would go to the door if it opened (no one), who would call the manager (Jungwon), how they’d ferry Sunoo if they had to move him (two at a time, Jake and Heeseung for strength). It was small logistics spun from big love, the way lovers make plans for living and, tonight, for surviving.

A sound scraped softly along the corridor, a cart, then a murmur of people and for a moment they all imagined a gaunt figure stepping into view. Instead, a voice cracked over the intercom: “All units: police en route, ETA three minutes. Continue lockdown protocol.” Three minutes felt like a verdict. Time folded tight. Jay leveled a look at the manager’s silhouette through the small square of window in the door, grateful and furious in equal measure that anyone had let them get this close. He mouthed something to the man. You better, and the manager’s fingers tightened in reply. Outside, the beeping on someone’s radio shifted into more urgent coordinates; the building’s PA muttered a flurry of instructions.

Heeseung leaned his forehead against Sunoo’s and let out a breath that could have been prayer. “They’re here,” he said very quietly. “We just have to hold until they take over.” They listened to the sirens swell and then recede as the police vehicles hit the street outside, the thrum of engines like a promise. The hallway lights buzzed once and steadied. Every minute unspooling felt heavy and bright all at once, lodged in the collective throat like a held breath. Sunoo’s tears finally slowed to little tracks that shone in the lamp glow. He hiccupped and swallowed, his voice small as he tested the world again. “I’m scared,” he admitted, the sentence so simple and pure it cracked through the room. “You can be,” Jungwon answered immediately, pressing a kiss to his temple. “We are too.”

“Good,” Ni-ki sniffed, half-raw, half-ironical. “Then we’ll be a scary team together.” He bumped his forehead to Sunoo’s and the small, ridiculous intimacy. The little gesture of lovers made everyone let out a breath that had been caught in the chest for hours. They listened then, together to the measured clack of radio traffic, to the distant command of men moving like an approaching tide, to the tight tread of boots that finally sounded more determined than predatory. The footsteps in the hall no longer felt like a threat so much as a path being closed around them by people whose job it was to keep the world intact.

Still, as the sirens painted the walls in oscillating blue and red shadows, none of them let go of Sunoo’s hands. No one shifted far enough to leave a gap in the ring of limbs. Each small touch was a vow reborn. We are here, we will not falter, we will not let you go.

The door’s handle rattled again but gentler this time, not a breach but a knock pattern that said authority. Voices called out muffled. “ENHYPEN? Manager? Police at the door. Stay where you are.” Jungwon’s jaw unclenched a fraction into something like relief. He exhaled, letting the tension ease in a sliver. “Hold on,” he whispered, and the room leaned into the sound of waiting, into each other, into the long, slow, terrifying hope that the tide had finally turned.

---

To Be Continued