Watching practice hurt more than the injury.

Dohoon sat against the mirrored wall while the others ran through formations.

Every time someone hesitated, his instinct was to stand.

He couldn't.

Hanjin noticed how quiet he became.

After rehearsal, when the others left, Hanjin stayed behind.

"You don't have to pretend with me," Hanjin said.

Dohoon didn't look at him.

"I hate feeling useless."

The word lingered.

Hanjin walked over and sat directly in front of him.

"You are not useless."

Silence.

Hanjin reached forward and gently placed Dohoon's hand over his own chest.

"Feel that?"

Dohoon blinked.

"My heart's beating because you're here," Hanjin continued. "That's not useless."

Dohoon's fingers curled slightly.

Emotion flickered across his face — something vulnerable.

"You're stronger than you think," Hanjin whispered.

"And you don't have to be strong all the time."

 At night.

The pain get worse

Dohoon tried not to make noise when he shifted in bed.

But Hanjin heard the sharp inhale from across the hallway.

He walked in without knocking this time.

"You didn't take the medicine."

"It makes me dizzy."

Hanjin sighed softly and sat on the bed.

"Then let me stay."

Dohoon didn't argue.

Hanjin carefully adjusted the pillows, lifting Dohoon's leg gently so it rested higher.

His hands were steady.

Intentional.

"Does this help?"

"...Yeah."

The room was dark except for the faint city glow through the window.

After a long silence, Dohoon spoke.

"What if I'm not enough?"

Hanjin's chest tightened.

"For who?"

"For this. For the group."

Hanjin didn't hesitate.

"You are the reason we feel safe."

That made Dohoon look at him.

"You think I don't see how you check on everyone? How you stay up late fixing things? How you worry quietly?"

Hanjin reached for his hand.

"You don't have to earn your place here. You already have it."

A pause.

Then softer:

"And you have me."

Dohoon squeezed his hand back.

Not out of habit.

Out of need.