Archive of Our Own

The comments were coming in faster than Ni-ki could read them.

He chewed absentmindedly at his lip as he stared at the screen, trying to gather all that was being said by the tens of thousands of people watching him. The fatigue of busy schedules and strenuous practice had started creeping in half an hour ago, but he refused to turn off the livestream. The fans seemed to be having fun, and he figured he owed them this. He blinked the sleepiness from his eyes, trying to focus long enough to read the comments in full.

Just as he began reading, he caught pieces of a passing comment. Truthfully, he’s not sure what they were asking. All he saw were the words Okayama and when?

His hands curled into fists in his lap.

“I haven't actually been back home since our debut,” he explained. “We don’t have the time. Honestly, I’m not even sure if I still have a room at my house.”

He chuckled, trying to keep the mood light. But he felt it then. Maybe it was the exhaustion, or the knowledge that he was wasting the precious time he should have spent sleeping on a livestream when he had an obscenely early schedule tomorrow morning.

Today, he reminded himself, eyeing the clock on the hotel nightstand. Today morning.

Regardless, he felt it. The prickle of something ugly and sad in his chest. He tried to avoid any discussion of home for this reason exactly. He’s not even sure why he chose to respond to the comment; only that he had, and suddenly the hotel room felt empty and foreign the way his room in their dorm felt sometimes when he let his thoughts wander back to his childhood home in Japan. Sure, his bedroom was his own now, but sometimes he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was still out of place in it.

Turning his attention back to the comments didn’t help the pit growing in his stomach. 

I’m not even sure if I still have a room at my house.

That…was a new thought. He’s not sure where it came from or why he had said it; only that it made his entire body feel vaguely numb.

He ended the live eventually. His thoughts were starting to slip, and the fans were catching on, insisting that he rest. He smiled graciously as he thanked them, reaching for the screen to shut it off. 

And then it went dark, and there was nothing to keep him from his thoughts anymore.

He felt like he was frozen in place. The feeling in his chest was becoming suffocating, and he couldn’t think of anything that would alleviate it. Normally, he would turn to his members when something upset him. Only then would he let them dote on him fully, reminding him that he was still their youngest. They always treated him gently. Always soothed him patiently when he was overwhelmed or moody.

But they couldn’t fix this—couldn’t even understand. They were all able to go home and spend time with their families between schedules, even if only for a day. Sometimes they even invited him as if it made up for the fact that his own home was hundreds of miles and an ocean away. 

He was struck with a sudden, ugly bitterness. Rationally, he knew that he wasn’t being fair to them. It wasn’t their fault he’d chosen to leave home at such a young age. And it certainly wasn’t their fault that they weren’t his parents, or his sisters. But the bitterness took hold anyway, and he understood that this wasn’t something they could fix. He was afraid that if he let them try he would only end up angrier.

He stared at the wall behind the bed. Jake and Sunghoon were sharing a room on the other side. Past them were Jay, Heeseung, and Sunoo. Jungwon had shared his room, but he had wandered elsewhere when Ni-ki had started his live. He’d probably fallen asleep by now.

They were so close. A couple doors down at the very most. Still, he stayed where he was. They couldn’t fix this. Couldn’t even relate.

He eventually managed to drag himself to his bed, haphazardly tossing his phone to the other side and letting himself fall into the sheets. They felt cold against his skin.

His sleep was restless, and he dreamed of home.

-

Ni-ki woke to a persistent knock at his door. He groaned into the pillow, pressing his face harder against it. The sky outside his window was still pitch black.

The knocking continued. From beyond the door, he heard someone call his name.

He huffed, pushing himself up and lurching across the room to the door. The light from the hotel hallway flooded in and he turned his face away, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Ni-ki,” Heeseung said, sounding exasperated. “We need to leave soon. You should have been up already. Are you even packed?”

When Ni-ki finally opened his eyes, it was to glare back at Heeseung. 

“I’m working on it,” he grit out. 

Heeseung’s eyes narrowed. “No, you aren’t. You were still sleeping. It’s not my fault you chose to stay up so late last night, so don’t look at me like that.” 

Ni-ki felt a hot rush of anger in his gut, his cheeks going red. He had to fight the impulse to snap back and say something he knew he would regret. Instead, he turned on his heel, slamming the door shut behind him.

-

The glass of the window was cold against Ni-ki’s cheek.

He sat silently at the back of the van, something soft playing in his earphones. He’d put them in just as soon as he’d sat down, tucking himself into the corner seat and turning away from the others. With his eyes fixed on the world outside the window, he’d missed their concerned glances. He had no trouble imagining them, though.

He let his eyes slip shut, angling his head so that the cool glass pressed into his temple. He’d woken that morning to a persistent throbbing in his head that had only increased in intensity as the day wore on. Now they were headed for home, and he’d have been grateful if he could muster any rational thought over the nauseating thrum of pain.

Like this, it was easy to forget where he was. Who he was. His mind began to drift in a direction that he didn’t usually let it. The world blurred around the edges until he could imagine that it was his older sister pressed to his side, and not one of his members. That it was his father in the front seat, and his mother riding passenger, and that the music was coming from the old stereo in his father’s car instead of his earphones. That he was still young, and that home was still a tangible thing.

The cold eased the ache in his head. Within minutes he felt his body become heavy with sleep. He sighed softly through his nose, his hands curling into fists in his lap as he started dozing.

And then there was a hand on Ni-ki’s leg, tapping insistently for his attention.

The soft haze of sleep receded. He clenched his jaw in frustration, and his headache returned twofold.

He kept perfectly still, hoping that whoever was prodding at him would give up. After a few seconds, the tapping paused, and he thought maybe he’d won.

Then the hand returned, clutching just above his knee and shaking.

“What?” Ni-ki snapped, pulling his leg out of Jake’s grip. Jake flinched, looking a little stunned at the outburst. His hand still hung in the empty air like he didn’t quite know what to do with himself.

“I—sorry. We were just about to go over the schedule for tomorrow morning,” he murmured.

Ni-ki glared back at him, opening his mouth as if to reply.

“Careful, Ni-ki,” Heeseung warned from the passenger seat. Ni-ki caught his eye in the rear-view mirror for a moment, the words dying on his tongue. He grit his teeth as he reached to tug his earphones out.

“Whatever. Go ahead,” he mumbled, wrapping his arms around his middle and pressing himself further into the seat. Jake stared over at him blankly for another moment before he turned away. From his peripheral, Ni-ki saw Jay rest a hand on Jake’s knee, giving him a small, reassuring pat. Ni-ki felt something like guilt curl in his gut, hot and uncomfortable. He swallowed it down.

To his credit, he really did try to listen. Only it was hard to make out their manager’s words over the crushing ache in his temples.

-

Ni-ki laid on his stomach, the side of his face pressed into the mattress. His phone laid just beside his head, the screen gone dark with inactivity. How long ago that had happened, he wasn’t actually sure. It could have been five minutes. It could have been twenty-five. Time moved slowly on days like these, and yet somehow he still struggled to keep up. 

He thought about the text from his father. A benign thing, really.

‘How have things been?’

Ni-ki had spent the better part of an hour trying to come up with a response. Had even typed out the messages, only to delete them.

‘Hey, sorry, I had a really long day.’

He sighed, pressing his cheek harder into the blanket. 

‘Things have been good, just busy.’

He could hear the others somewhere outside his door. In the kitchen, from the sounds of it. Someone was laughing.

‘Do I still have a room in the house?’

His tired eyes burned. He let them slip shut.

‘I really want to come home. Just for a bit.’

A loud knock at his door jarred him out of his thoughts. He jolted hard, cursing under his breath as he pushed himself up onto his elbows. 

“It’s open,” he rasped.

He heard the handle click, and then the hallway light was spilling into his room as Sunoo stepped inside.

“Dinner’s here,” he said. “We’re gonna bring it into the living room and watch that movie Jay’s been talking about. Wanna come?”

Sunoo was giving him that warm smile he reserved for Ni-ki’s hard days. Usually it made him feel better—at least marginally. Now, though, all Ni-ki felt was an inexplicable sense of being exposed. Like Sunoo could see right through him; could see everything ugly that had been building inside of him since they’d returned to Korea.

“Actually, I think I’ll just eat in here if that’s okay,” he said quietly. Sunoo’s expression changed, his eyebrows pinching with confusion, and it made Ni-ki’s stomach churn. 

“Are you busy with something?” He questioned.

Ni-ki swallowed hard, unsure of how to answer.

“Not really,” he said. “I just—I don’t know. I don’t feel very good, I guess.”

“Do you think you’re getting sick?”

Ni-ki shook his head quickly. “No,” he said. “Not like that.”

Sunoo’s face softened, and Ni-ki fought the urge to curl inward. 

“Don’t you think it would help?” He asked. “To come spend time with the others? To not be by yourself?”

The exposed feeling increased tenfold.

“I said no,” he snapped, heat rising to his face.

Sunoo’s eyes widened for a moment, and then his face went carefully blank. 

“If that’s what you want,” he said. “I’ll leave your food on the kitchen counter.”

And then he turned to leave, and Ni-ki was alone again.

He sat frozen, staring at the door through the dark. There was a growing tightness in his chest. When had he started breathing so hard?

He flopped back into his stomach, trying to ignore the wrong feeling in his gut. His phone still laid dark at his side. He stared at it for a moment, thinking of his father back home, still waiting on his reply.

And then he tucked it under his pillow, rolling over to face the wall and tugging the blanket over himself. He’d lost his appetite. 

-

Ni-ki usually loved dance practice. Their practice room was where he felt most in his element, most grounded. And he’d never admit it out loud, but he loved the chance to show off a little. To be looked at as a guide. It made him feel important, being reminded of his position within the team. The others didn’t need to know how much he quietly basked in it.

Today, though, was a rare exception. 

He wanted to go home. What that meant now, he wasn’t actually sure. He wanted to be back in his bed in their dorm, curtains drawn, blanket pulled over his head. He wanted to be sitting on the living room floor of his childhood home, watching movie reruns with his sisters and fighting over the remote while their mother chastised them. He wanted a lot of things right then, but they were all out of reach. Some further than others.

The brightness of the overhead lights was doing nothing to help the dizzying heat growing underneath his skin. He fanned at his neck, shifting his weight between his feet just to keep himself upright and moving. If he laid down now, he thought he may not be able to get up again for another month. At least.

Jungwon patted Sunghoon on the shoulder as he finished guiding him through the step sequence. “Let’s run it again,” he called, moving back into position. Ni-ki took a deep breath in, trying to tamp down the overwhelming fatigue. 

The music started, and he threw himself into the steps, trying his best to ignore the weak feeling spreading up his extremities.

He didn’t mess up, per se. Certainly didn’t miss any of the steps. But to his own eyes, something about it had looked off. He stared at himself hard in the mirror, trying to catch his breath.

“You good, Ni-ki?” Jungwon asked. Ni-ki startled a bit at the voice, blinking back to the present.

“Fine,” he grit out. “Why?”

“You look tired,” Jungwon said simply. No malice in his voice. No judgement. “You were hurrying through the movements a bit on that last run. Do you want to take a break for a bit?”

Ni-ki felt a hot flush creeping up his neck, making him feel a little sick.

“No,” he snapped. “And I would’ve told you if I did. Leave it alone.” 

Through the mirror, he saw some of the staff along the back of the room look up. Could practically feel their eyes on him. Jungwon just stared back, eyes narrowing.

“...Alright then. It was just a question.”

Suddenly, there was a firm hand wrapped tight around his wrist. Jay pulled him towards the door, not even looking at him, and Ni-ki was barely able to get his feet underneath him as he stumbled. He tried tugging his arm away, tried planting his feet in the ground to stop them both, but Jay just pulled harder. It was only after they’d reached the hallway that Ni-ki began protesting.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He snapped incredulously. Jay didn’t dignify him with a response; his firm grip guided Ni-ki steadily down the hall towards another cluster of unoccupied practice rooms. “Jay, let me go.” 

Jay didn’t even acknowledge that he’d heard him. He tugged Ni-ki into a dark room, pulling him forward and shutting the door hard behind them. He finally let go of Ni-ki's wrist, pulling his own hand away like Ni-ki was something contagious. Some of the lights switched on automatically, casting a dim glow over the both of them. Only then did he turn to look at Ni-ki, arms crossed, eyes narrow.

“What is wrong with you?” He asked, voice low.

“I—what?”

“You’ve had a nasty attitude all week, and you’re making it everybody else’s problem. You just snapped at Jungwon in a room full of people, Ni-ki. You’re going to explain yourself.”

Ni-ki scoffed at him. “I’m not going to do anything,” he insisted, but it sounded weak even to his own ears.

Jay looked decidedly unimpressed. “You’re acting like a child right now. If you aren’t embarrassed, you should be.” 

Ni-ki’s face flushed red, his hands clenching into tight fists at his sides. He opened his mouth as if to respond, but couldn’t actually find the words; his mind came up empty.

Jay looked at him warily. “You’ve been like this since Milano. Did something happen on that trip?”

“No,” Ni-ki snapped too quickly.

“Is it our fault? Did one of the others say something to you?”

“God, no. Stop interrogating me.”

“If it’s not our fault, do you want to explain why you’ve been taking it out on us?” Jay was losing his patience quickly—Ni-ki could feel it. His stomach churned with anxiety.

“I’m not—”

“You are. You’ve been confrontational and rude and insufferable all week, Ni-ki. You keep acting like this in front of people, and eventually it’s going to hurt your image.” Jay sighed, bleeding frustration. “But I’m not going to let you do that. You don’t get to go back until you’ve figured out how to act around the others. We’re going to stay right here, and you’re going to explain to me why you’ve been so awful.”

Ni-ki’s not sure which part of Jay’s reprimand did him in.

His entire body flushed with abrupt, overwhelming shame. He wanted so badly to argue, to defend his own ego, but he knew he couldn’t, because Jay was right. He had been awful. 

He suddenly recalled times when the others had fallen into moods, and how useless it made him feel. But here he was, subjecting all of them to that and worse, making them the targets of his frustration. His desperation.

His breath hitched, and his vision went hazy with burning tears. Something in him was unravelling fast, and he felt an overwhelming urge to get away before he fell apart entirely. He lurched forward, trying to push past Jay to get to the door. Jay grabbed him by the shoulders, stopping him in his tracks and forcing him firmly backwards. Ni-ki nearly stumbled, his legs suddenly feeling weak. He didn’t want to do this here—not in front of Jay. He wanted to hide until it was over so he could pretend it hadn’t happened at all. But Jay had no intention of letting him; he stood firmly in front of the door, arms crossed, sharp eyes fixed on Ni-ki. 

Ni-ki let out a single, heaving breath. He couldn’t even make out the features of Jay’s face through the blur of tears. 

“Nothing to say for yourself?”

Without meaning to, Ni-ki sobbed.

He turned away, stumbling further into the room as he tried to get away from the feeling of Jay’s scrutiny. He buried his face in both hands, trying to hold himself together, but it was useless. His chest heaved as he tried to steady his breathing. Underneath him, he felt his legs shaking. He heard a sharp inhale from behind, and then hurried footsteps in his direction.

He spun back around, hands dropping from his face to clutch anxiously at the front of his hoodie, and finally met Jay’s worried eyes.

“I want to go home,” he gasped.

Jay froze, eyebrows furrowing.

“You—what? We only have a couple hours left of practice, and then we’re—”

“No,” Ni-ki keened. “No, you don’t get it, I—”

He hiccuped, choking on his words as he curled in on himself where he stood. His head was throbbing with pressure and all of his pent up exhaustion. He tried to speak up again, to explain himself, but he couldn’t quite catch his breath. 

Suddenly, there were two warm hands clutching at his upper arms. 

“Ni-ki,” Jay called urgently. “What do you mean? C’mon, bud, I can’t help you if I don’t understand.”

Ni-ki tipped forward, letting his head fall weakly against Jay’s collarbone. Jay laid a hand on his neck, the other pressing gently into the small of his back to pull him in closer.

“Shhh. Breathe,” he encouraged. Ni-ki barely heard him. 

Jay stood there with him for what he thought could’ve been ten minutes, maybe more. He waited patiently for Ni-ki to settle, but he didn’t. Couldn’t. There was a growing wet patch on his shirt where Ni-ki kept his eyes hidden, soaking through to Jay’s skin. He could tell just how much effort it was taking for Ni-ki to keep hushed.

“Ni-ki,” he tried. “Why don’t we sit down for a minute?” But Ni-ki wouldn’t budge. Wouldn’t even look at him.

Jay ran his palm upwards along the column of Ni-ki’s spine, letting it settle just between his shoulder blades and patting softly. He glanced briefly at the clock hanging above the mirror. The others would probably come looking for them soon, but Ni-ki still wept like he’d been waiting for it. This close, Jay could feel the way his entire body shuddered with each exhale.

You don’t get it.

“When you say home,” he started tentatively, “do you mean home home? Are you talking about Japan?”

Ni-ki jolted away from him suddenly, stumbling backwards. His face was flushed, skin smeared with tears. He looked at Jay like a deer in headlights.

“I don’t want to talk about this.” 

Jay crossed his arms, giving Ni-ki a pointed look. “We need to. You know that.”

“Leave me alone,” Ni-ki pleaded. “You can’t fix this. You don’t even understand, you—” 

But he couldn’t finish; couldn’t even explain himself. He let his head dip forwards, arms curling tight around his middle. Tears pattered quietly on the hardwood floor in front of his feet. After a moment, he gave up on trying to hold himself up, dropping to a crouch. He couldn’t look at Jay; the weight of his frustration made Ni-ki feel like the walls were closing in.

“Sit down,” Jay urged. He stepped closer and knelt down, placing a steadying hand on Ni-ki’s knee. “Let’s take a minute.” 

Ni-ki didn’t acknowledge that he’d heard Jay. He just tipped backwards, landing roughly on his tailbone, making Jay wince. It didn’t even seem to register with Ni-ki, though. He pulled his legs up, burying his face in his knees.

“Riki,” Jay soothed. “Shhh, it’s okay. Everything’s okay. Take a breath.”

Ni-ki, to his credit, tried his best to listen. But each time he breathed in too deep his lungs spasmed and he broke into a fit of coughing. He realized with growing anxiety that he was becoming lightheaded.

Jay shuffled closer on his knees, resting a hand on the back of Ni-ki’s head.

“You’re really worrying me, bud,” he murmured. His fingers threaded into Ni-ki’s hair, scratching softly.

Behind him, Jay heard the door click open. He turned back to see Heeseung poking his head inside, looking distinctly confused.

“Jay, what’s—” he paused as he processed the scene in front of him. The way Ni-ki had his face hidden in his knees, and the muffled gasps that made his shoulders shake. The strained look on Jay’s face. 

“Shit,” he breathed, pushing fully into the room. He hurried to where they sat on the floor, letting the door swing shut behind him. “Ni-ki?”

“He’s homesick,” Jay said quickly. “That’s—I think that’s why he’s been upset. But he won’t talk to me about it.” 

Ni-ki’s head shot up suddenly, and he leveled a weak glare at Jay. The intended effect was muted by the puffiness of his eyes and the tears that clung stubbornly to his lashes.

“Because you don’t get it,” he rasped.

Heeseung shot him a sharp look, and Ni-ki wilted immediately.

“None of that,” Heeseung said, quiet but firm. “You’re allowed to be upset, Ni-ki, but you’re not allowed to be rude.”

Ni-ki’s eyes flooded with fresh tears, his throat constricting. He dropped his head right back into his knees where he didn’t have to feel the full weight of their disappointment.

“He’s done for the night,” Jay said suddenly. “He needs to get home. Someone needs to take him.”

“Jungwon has the choreo down, I’m sure he’d be—”

“No,” Ni-ki gasped, shaking his head quickly. “No, I—they’re mad at me, and so are you, and I don’t want—I don’t want them to have to—”

“I’ll do it,” Jay said. “I can practice late tomorrow. Let me bring him home.”

Heeseung nodded without hesitation. “Okay, yeah. Give me a minute to grab your bags and text a manager. I’ll be right back.” He placed a hand on Jay’s shoulder briefly, giving him a comforting squeeze before he was headed back for the door.

Jay turned his attention back to where Ni-ki sat hunched and sniffling.

“Okay, Ni-ki. You don’t need to worry. We’ll go home, and you can go to bed. The others don’t have to see.” 

Ni-ki didn’t say anything, but his shoulders slumped with something that could have been relief. He still couldn’t quite get a hold on the tears dripping steadily onto his sweatpants. He sucked in a gasping breath, whole body shuddering.

“I may not understand,” Jay murmured. “But that doesn’t mean you need to hold it all by yourself. Whatever this is, you know I’ll sit with you in it until it doesn’t hurt anymore. You don’t need to keep these things in.”

Ni-ki hiccupped, hesitating a moment before he nodded weakly, face still hidden. 

“But just because you’re hurting doesn’t mean you get to hurt us, too. Shhh, I know. I know, bud. I’m not angry. I just need you to hear it. You’re okay.”

Heeseung returned then, Jay’s bag slung over his shoulder and Ni-ki’s clutched in his hands. He wordlessly handed them both to Jay who took them without complaint. 

“Car’s gonna meet you downstairs,” he murmured. “I told the others Ni-ki isn’t feeling well. They’ll give you space when we get home later.”

“Thank you,” Jay sighed. He turned back to Ni-ki, smoothing out the hair on the back of his head. “C’mon, Ni-ki, up. Let's get you home.”

Ni-ki finally pulled his face out of the fabric of his pants, looking blearily up at Jay. He looked as though the past fifteen minutes had drained him of everything he had left. Jay held out a hand, tugging him back onto his feet, and he swayed a bit where he stood.

With Jay’s guiding hand on his lower back, they made it slowly to the parking garage. Their manager greeted them briefly as Jay tugged Ni-ki into the back seat of his car, but he didn’t say anything about Ni-ki's blotchy face or swollen eyes. He kept his gaze deliberately forward, even when Ni-ki slumped miserably against Jay’s side, pressing his cheek into Jay’s shoulder. Jay made a mental note to thank him later. 

He placed a gentle hand on Ni-ki’s leg and rubbed small circles with his thumb, letting the ride pass in silence. When he felt a few stray tears soak into the fabric of his shirt, he didn’t say anything—just rested his own head against Ni-ki’s and let him cry.

-

“Shower is yours,” Jay said as he guided a listless Ni-ki into their dorm. “The others shouldn't be back for another hour or so. You should take advantage of it while you can.”

Ni-ki nodded slowly, eyes fixed on the ground. He was still a little unsteady on his feet. “Thanks, Jay,” he whispered. 

Jay smiled at him softly. “Of course. Go on.”

As Ni-ki showered, Jay set to work getting his room a little more organized. He pulled the blinds half-open and collected the few pieces of dirty laundry off of the floor, placing them neatly in Ni-ki’s hamper. Ni-ki’s favorite blanket was flung halfway off of his bed, nearly on the ground. Jay laid it out flat, smoothing out the wrinkles. When he left for the kitchen to get Ni-ki a glass of water, Jay found him standing outside the bathroom door, staring blankly down the hallway. His hair was still dripping water onto the floor. Ni-ki didn’t seem to notice.

“Ni-ki?” he questioned. “Do you need something?”

Ni-ki finally looked up at him then. His eyes looked sore from crying.

“I don’t know,” he said weakly, voice cracking.

“Do you want to be alone right now? Or do you want me to stay?”

Ni-ki swallowed hard, forcing himself to maintain eye contact.

“I—I don’t know.”

Jay tilted his head, looking at Ni-ki with something like tenderness.

“Would it be easier if I made the decisions right now?”

Ni-ki nodded once, quickly.

“Okay,” Jay said. “That’s okay. You can go lay down, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Ni-ki obeyed silently. In short order, Jay had collected a glass of water, a bottle of pain relievers for his inevitable headache, and his favorite hoodie freshly warm from the dryer. He nudged Ni-ki’s bedroom door open with his hip to find him curled up in bed, pressed nearly against the wall, leaving plenty of extra space. 

Jay took the hint. He sat on the edge of the bed, placing the water and painkillers on the nightstand. Turning to look at Ni-ki, he wordlessly held out the hoodie.

Ni-ki looked from Jay’s face to the hoodie clutched in his hand, eyes a little wide. He reached out timidly, taking it and propping himself up so he could slip it on. Jay sat watching him patiently until he was curled back under the blanket. 

“Do you think you’ll be able to sleep now, or do you want to find a distraction for a little while?”

Ni-ki’s eyes fluttered shut. “I’m tired,” he whispered. 

Jay reached a hand over, rubbing his fingers gently through the soft hair on the side of Ni-ki’s head. Ni-ki sighed as some of the tension drained out of his body. 

“You can sleep,” Jay whispered. “I’ll make sure you’re up in the morning.”

Ni-ki didn’t open his eyes—just nodded minutely against Jay’s hand. He was fading fast.

“And Ni-ki?”

He hummed quietly.

“We’re okay.”

He did look up at Jay then. Jay couldn’t tell if his eyes were shining, or if it was just a trick of the light seeping in from the open window.

“Thank you,” Ni-ki said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

-

Ni-ki felt like hell.

He woke to the feeling of his head thrumming steadily in time with his heart. His eyes burned, and his throat felt like it had been scraped raw. He reached carefully over Jay’s sleeping form, fumbling in the dark for the glass of water on his nightstand. Next to it sat a bottle of pain relievers that he surely hadn’t put there himself. He sighed quietly, reminding himself to thank Jay when he was awake.

Ni-ki turned back towards the wall, patting around until he found his phone beneath his pillow. The screen read 4:48 AM, decidedly too early for him to be awake. Still, he knew there would be no getting back to sleep. There never was during nights like these. His brain wouldn’t let him.

He rolled onto his back, huffing at the ceiling. Next to him, Jay slept soundlessly.

It didn’t matter that Ni-ki wasn’t actually alone. The ache crept back in like a physical weight in his chest. His hands curled into fists, clutching the sheets tight over his stomach. Were he selfish, he would have woken Jay—would have curled in close and let Jay soothe the pain like he always did. He knew Jay wouldn’t have held it against him regardless of the early hour or their busy schedules. Jay liked to deny the extent of his soft spot for the rest of them, but he never fooled anyone. 

Maybe Ni-ki couldn’t have his family, but at least he’d found something similar. 

His chest lurched with a sharp inhale. He sat up quickly, suddenly feeling restless. The blanket felt constricting, and he kicked it off of his legs before crawling to the foot of the bed, trying his best to avoid jostling Jay. He slipped into the hallway, pulling the door shut quietly behind him.

Ni-ki had to do something with himself. The homesick feeling was festering too close to the surface, and he was becoming desperate for a distraction. He walked tentatively towards the kitchen, doing his best to keep silent. He switched on a single light, squinting as it hit his eyes and giving himself a moment to adjust. He glanced at the stove.

Pancakes, he decided. He would make pancakes.

He supposed he owed it to Jay for… managing him yesterday. His pancakes never turned out quite as well, but at least it would save Jay the effort. Making breakfast was one thing, but making breakfast for seven? It was a chore Jay assumed stoically.

Ni-ki tip-toed around the kitchen, extra gentle with the cabinets. He made swift work of the batter while he let the pan heat.

He was eight pancakes in when a voice startled him out of his rhythm.

“Ni-ki?”

He jolted hard. The spatula slipped from his hand and clattered noisily to the floor, making him wince. The clock on the stove still only read 5:27 AM and he really didn’t want to be the one to wake all the others prematurely. He turned quickly on his heel to find Sunghoon leaning against the doorway, looking at Ni-ki warily.

“How long have you been up? You know we have a long day,” he said pointedly. Ni-ki stiffened at the accusation in his tone.

“I didn’t—uhm. It hasn’t been that long. I didn’t wake up on purpose, I just…did. And then I couldn’t fall back asleep.”

Sunghoon just stared at him for a moment, expression unreadable. Then his eyes drifted to the mess on the counter behind him.

“...Are you making pancakes?”

“Mhm,” Ni-ki hummed, dropping quickly to the floor to pick up the spatula. He clutched it tight to his front as Sunghoon scrutinized him.

“At 5:30 in the morning?”

Ni-ki nodded stiffly.

“Any particular reason why?”

“I—what? It’s just breakfast.”

Sunghoon looked unimpressed. “That’s all? You’re sure this isn’t your way of trying to get out of an apology for how you’ve been acting?” 

Ni-ki flinched.

“No, it’s—I thought—”

Sunghoon glanced past him again, his eyebrows furrowing.

“I think that one is burning.”

Ni-ki gasped, turning back to the stove. He dove for the handle of the pan, moving it clumsily off of the heat. Sunghoon was right; the underside of the pancake was burnt dark. He sighed quietly, setting the dirty spatula down on the counter.

When he looked back, Sunghoon had moved from the doorway to the kitchen table where he was scrolling his phone looking vaguely bored. He didn’t look back up at Ni-ki, and Ni-ki supposed that this was his way of ending the conversation, cutting Ni-ki off in the middle of whatever excuse he’d been trying to make. Pressure was rising behind his eyes, and he was distantly aware of the fact that he was about to humiliate himself more than he already had. He turned quickly back to the stove, trying to blink the feeling away, but it only worsened. His vision became watery around the edges.

But the others would be getting up soon for their morning schedules, and he had only finished eight pancakes. 

He poured more batter in the pan, firmly ignoring the sounds coming from Sunghoon’s phone behind him and the feeling of slow, hot tears trailing down  his cheeks. He kept quiet, letting his regret fester in the silence. If his breathing had become just a little more labored, Sunghoon hadn’t noticed. 

He kept steady at work. Just as he was running out of batter, he heard some of the others filing into the kitchen groggily. When they greeted him—if they greeted him at all—he kept his wet eyes firmly on the pan, giving a half-hearted wave over his shoulder. 

He heard Sunoo and Jake bickering, and Jungwon speaking quietly with Sunghoon. As far as Ni-ki could tell, Heeseung and Jay were still sleeping.

“Pancakes are ready,” he murmured, turning off the heat. If he could just make it to his room he’d be safe; Jay had already seen him fall apart. There was nothing left to hide from him.

Silent tears fell sluggishly down his face, dripping from his chin and wetting the front of his shirt. He kept his head low as he made for the hallway, praying silently that the others weren’t paying him any attention. 

Just as he reached the doorway, Jungwon’s voice called out from behind him.

“Ni-ki? You’re not going to eat?” He questioned. 

Ni-ki froze, still facing away from them. He was so close. If he could only make it out now, they wouldn’t have to see how pathetic he was. 

“I’ll eat before we leave,” he called weakly over his shoulder.

Before he could flee, he heard a chair scrape against the tile, and then quiet footsteps in his direction. He briefly debated on running for his bedroom door before they could reach him, subtlety be damned. But his nerves kept him stuck firmly in place.

“Are you feeling sick?” Jungwon questioned, walking up beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’re usually—oh. Oh, Ni-ki. What’s the matter?” 

He moved to face Ni-ki directly, using a thumb to wipe the tear tracks from his cheeks. The kitchen had gone silent behind them as the others watched. Ni-ki squeezed his eyes shut tight with shame. He couldn’t answer Jungwon; just shook his head sadly, refusing to look.

“What?” Sunghoon questioned. “Jungwon, what’s wrong?”

Ni-ki felt Jungwon squeeze his shoulder softly. “Everything’s okay. He’s just a little upset. Hmm, Ni-ki?”

“That’s—shit. That’s my fault. Ni-ki, can you come back here? Let’s talk for a minute.”

Ni-ki turned back to the kitchen, but he still didn’t move from where he was. His eyes were red and tired, his cheeks splotchy. Sunghoon looked at him tenderly, all of the previous frustration gone from his face. He patted the empty seat between himself and Sunoo.

“Come here, Riki. You need to eat too.” 

Ni-ki walked back to the table timidly. Jungwon’s hand provided a comforting weight on his lower back, guiding him until he sat down. Jake wordlessly slid an untouched plate of pancakes across the table to Ni-ki before he stood up to fetch himself another.

“I’m sorry,” Sunghoon murmured beside him, reaching up to smooth out Ni-ki’s hair absentmindedly. “I was too harsh earlier. What I said wasn’t fair.” 

Ni-ki swallowed hard before he met Sunghoon’s eye.

“No, you were right, I still owe you an apology. I was just—I don’t know. I just wanted to help.”

Sunghoon smiled at him fondly, and Ni-ki felt the weight in his chest ease just a little. “Well, thank you for making breakfast. Now, eat. You don’t need to hide.”

Ni-ki nodded slowly, turning back to his plate. Even if he didn’t feel particularly hungry, he didn’t want to disappoint Sunghoon. He reached for his fork and took a slow bite.

That was how Jay found them.

He rubbed his face drowsily as he dragged himself into the kitchen. The light fell harshly on his eyes, and he took a moment to adjust, squinting at the others sitting around the table.

As soon as his gaze fell on Ni-ki, though, he suddenly felt wide awake.

Ni-ki’s eyes were puffy and bloodshot. This wasn’t leftover from last night, either; there were still fresh tears clinging to his lashes as he looked up at Jay. He had frozen in the middle of chewing, his reddened cheeks puffed out a bit. The others sat eating their breakfast as if nothing was amiss.

…Though maybe that wasn’t entirely true. Sitting at Ni-ki’s side, Sunoo had his free hand resting gently on his leg. Sunghoon sat at the end of the table, subtly stealing short glances at Ni-ki as he ate, concern poorly concealed on his face. Jake and Jungwon spoke quietly between themselves, though Jay could see the way Jake watched Ni-ki’s plate across the table to make sure he was eating. 

It was odd, the way nobody seemed to acknowledge it openly. Jay wasn’t sure what exactly he had walked in on.

What he did know was that Ni-ki looked unmistakably sad, and that he wanted to fix it.

“Okay. What happened?” Jay questioned, taking a seat beside Jake to get a better look at Ni-ki’s face from across the table. 

Ni-ki swallowed, his eyes wide.

“Sunghoon made the little one cry,” Jake said. Ni-ki’s eyebrows furrowed, cheeks flushing a shade darker.

Sunghoon sighed, his eyes never leaving Ni-ki. “...I did.”

Ni-ki glanced down at his plate. “He didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

“Either way, I wasn’t very nice about it.” 

“But you’re okay now?” Jay asked. “Everyone is good?”

“We’re good,” Sunghoon said softly, reaching over to ruffle Ni-ki’s hair. 

Jay looked between them, nodding once. And then he looked down at plates scattered across the table.

“...Who made breakfast?”

“Ni-ki did,” Sunoo said, smiling fondly. “He did a good job.”

Just then, Heeseung trudged into the kitchen. He still looked half-asleep. 

“Oh,” he murmured. “Smells good.”

Jay nodded towards Ni-ki. “All his doing, apparently.”

Heeseung looked at Ni-ki quietly, assessing. The last Heeseung had seen him, Ni-ki had been in tatters, Jay’s hand firm on his back as he stumbled listlessly down the company hall. He looked more grounded now, but still despondent. The timid look on his face made Heeseung’s chest ache.

Homesick, Jay had said. He certainly looked homesick. And young. 

“Thank you,” he said, tired face easing into a warm smile. Ni-ki just nodded quickly.

Heeseung made for the pancakes on the counter, stomach growling. Jay called back to him for a plate.

It was a quiet morning. Everyone seemed more subdued, though not in a way that felt heavy. They spoke quietly, eating breakfast unhurried even though their schedules were coming nearer. The air felt lighter than it had the entire week.

Ni-ki hated to ruin it.

He set his fork down and swallowed hard. His mouth was dry, throat still vaguely scratchy from the night before.

“I’m really sorry,” he said abruptly. The others went quiet as they looked toward him, and he felt a cold sweat break out on the back of his neck.

“What for?” Jungwon asked patiently. He didn’t sound confused; he was only prompting Ni-ki to make it easier on him. To soften the blow. 

“For being awful,” Ni-ki rasped, hands twisting in his lap. He saw Jay suck in a quick breath. Looking a little regretful, maybe. “For getting upset and taking it out on all of you. For…being immature. And mean.”

“How about you tell them why you were upset, bud?” Jay encouraged gently. “We can only help you if we know what hurts.”

“It’s stupid,” Ni-ki said, voice cracking. “I don’t—I don’t even know how it started. I just—”

He cut himself off, taking a shuddering breath. His bottom lip trembled dangerously.

“I just—want to go home.”

And suddenly, Ni-ki felt childish. It sounded so banal out in the open. He wished he could take it back, take the entire week back, and just keep it to himself. Even if it hurt.

But nobody laughed at him. Nobody looked at him with exasperation or annoyance. Nobody rolled their eyes. They looked at him tenderly, like it mattered, and it made his resolve collapse.

“Sorry,” he sniffed, wiping harshly at his eyes. Sunoo placed a gentle hand on his arm, urging it away. He pulled his own sleeve over the palm of his hand and dabbed softly at the few stray tears on Ni-ki’s cheeks.

“How long have you been feeling this way?” Jungwon asked.

“I dunno,” Ni-ki murmured. “A while, I guess. It just—it got really bad recently.”

Sunoo hummed. “Because of that live you did while we were abroad?”

Ni-ki winced. He hadn’t realized any of the others had seen that. He hadn’t been careful enough with his words during that live—should’ve just kept his mouth shut.

“Yeah, I think so,” he whispered. 

“Okay. That’s okay,” Heeseung soothed. “I mean—well. It’s not okay to treat us the way you did. But I also understand. It’s okay that you’re hurting, Riki. You don’t have to keep it in. You’re always allowed to lean on us.”

Jungwon nodded. “Don’t let it build up like this in the future, okay? You don’t need to hurt so much.”

Ni-ki squeezed his eyes shut, feeling overwhelmed. A few more tears slipped down his cheeks. Sunoo patted them away dutifully before they could wet Ni-ki’s shirt.

“Okay,” he rasped. “I’m really sorry.”

“You’re forgiven,” Sunghoon said simply. 

Ni-ki hiccupped, his shoulders shaking.

“Will you be alright today, bud?” Jay asked. “Think you can make it through the day?”

Ni-ki nodded quickly. 

“I’ll be fine,” he insisted. Jay didn’t look entirely convinced, but he let it be.

Jake reached across the table, nudging Ni-ki’s plate a little closer. “Well, don’t let your hard work go to waste. Try eating a bit more.”

Ni-ki picked up his fork obediently, spearing another bite of pancake. He found that it didn’t taste so bland anymore.

-

“Ni-ki, hey. We’re home.”

Ni-ki blinked his eyes open slowly, still heavy with sleep. He lifted his head from where it rested on Sunghoon’s shoulder, turning to look up at Sunoo who roused him with a gentle hand on his arm. When had he fallen asleep?

“Alright, up,” Sunghoon encouraged from his other side. “Let’s get you into a real bed.”

“Not without a shower,” Jay called from the back seat. “And some real food.”

Ni-ki sighed heavily through his nose, letting Sunoo tug him out of the car by his hand. Still disoriented, he swayed on his feet.

Heeseung slipped out of the passenger seat, walking up behind Ni-ki and resting both hands on his shoulders to steady him.

“Careful,” he laughed. “You slept the whole way home. Now you’re gonna stay up late tonight, aren’t you?” 

Ni-ki turned to smile at him sheepishly, giving a tired shrug. 

“Trouble,” Heeseung murmured as he reached up to ruffle Ni-ki’s hair. 

In a few short minutes, Heeseung managed to herd Ni-ki up the stairs and into their dorm with the others, his guiding hand gentle on Ni-ki’s back. Ni-ki stood by the door in a daze, watching the others shed their shoes and jackets before dispersing to their bedrooms.

“Ni-ki,” Sunoo called from further down the hallway. He stood gazing at Ni-ki curiously for a moment before nodding his head towards their living room. “Come sit down.”

Ni-ki followed his command without hesitation, albeit a little confused. He took a seat on the couch and glanced up questioningly at Sunoo.

And then Sunoo knelt on the ground in front of him, setting to work on getting the laces of Ni-ki’s sneakers undone. 

“Oh,” Ni-ki breathed. “You don’t have to do that.” 

Sunoo huffed out an amused laugh. “You looked like you were about to fall over,” he teased. “Don’t worry about it.” He pulled one knot loose, slipping the shoe gently off of Ni-ki’s foot before moving to the other. 

Ni-ki just watched him quietly.

And then: “So, how was the movie?”

Sunoo paused for a moment, glancing up at him.

“What, you mean the one we watched the other night?” he questioned.

“Yeah,” Ni-ki nodded. “The one Jay picked out.”

Sunoo smiled at him softly, and Ni-ki felt the knot in his chest loosen. “It was good. I think you’d like it.” 

Ni-ki hummed, chewing absentmindedly at his lip.

“I’ll watch it again with you if you’d like,” Sunoo said. “I’m sure Jay would be up for it, too.” He pulled off Ni-ki’s other shoe, setting it aside.

Ni-ki swallowed hard, clutching his hands together in his lap. “...Can we?”

Sunoo reached a hand up, resting it just above Ni-ki’s knee and patting gently.

“Of course.”