Seokjin's ears were ringing. The incessant whirring of a nebulizer that diffused his vaporous medicine next to him had annoyed him for a few minutes even though he had the delicious feeling of breathing incredibly easily, as if he were breathing... Corticosteroids, he recognized their enjoyable effects, without knowing why he was being given this medicine, which he was only allowed to take as a last resort.

He felt that he was wearing something of his face and recognized the weight of an oxygen mask because he had already worn one in the past. Even if the aerosol did him good by opening his bronchial tubes as Ventolin was not able to do it the same, he would have liked to remove it because the person who had put it on him had tightened it too much and it was a little painful but he could neither open his eyes nor move.

He was very thirsty, as if he had just run and it was long overdue to rehydrate. He would have liked to lighten his dry lips and if possible, swallow a large glass of water, but no glass of water came to him to quench his thirst so he stopped thinking about it.

He felt he was in a comfortable bed and wondered if he was home. But it appeared to him that it was not possible because he was on a thick mattress, therefore on a bed and not in his familiar futon placed on the wooden floor. He was not used to sleeping on a bed and he was afraid of leaning too far with his eyes closed and falling at the slightest movement. So he preferred to stay still instead of struggling to get up.

He wanted to call his mother to help him up and explain what was happening to him, but his lips didn't even have the strength to move to form words either. They were just staying half opened and were very dry, so is the inside of his mouth. It was a very unpleasant feeling.  However, he desperately wanted to know where he was so he concentrated on fully regaining consciousness.

Finally, with patience and perseverance, he managed to lift a heavy eyelid, then a second and half-open his eyes. He instantly realized he was in a hospital room and began to feel the stress overtaking him. What had happened to him? His hazy mind didn't allow him to remember that yet.

The room was bathed in the light of the setting sun filtering through the window. By managing to turn his head slightly to his right side, he saw a shadow come out of the window in the light of the setting sun which announced the end of the day, a telephone in hand.

"M-mom..." he succeeded to mumble the first word that came to mind through his mask and the noise of the nebulizer.

The shadow turned when he heard it and locked its phone before putting it in its pocket. As the person was against the light, Seokjin and his half-opened eyes, even squinting, could not perceived his face.

"Do I look like your mom?" the voice a teenage boy replied, but seeing that Seokjin was not yet in a condition to face this aggressive irony, he added in a softer tone : "she came to see you just now in a hurry but she had to come back despite her wish to stay with you. She asked me to stay with you."

Seokjin was startled to realize who was standing in the room with him and it was indeed not his mother. He stammered weakly:

"Y-you?"

The other boy clicked his tongue, as if annoyed.

"Yeah, me. You could at least pretend to be happy to see me, it's not like anyone else came to visit you, after all, you don't have any friends."

"I won't thank you as I don't want to see you, so you can go now. I want to see my mom, please let me call her with your phone," he replied weakly, trying in vain to fully open his half-open eyes and straighten up. He had a pasty mouth and his diction was very slow.

"Yeah, well, we don't always get what we want in life, Jin. Well, I do, but you don't."

Jin. It had been a long time since the boy called him that. What could have suddenly changed? Besides, what was he doing there with him at hospital instead of being in night class at this late hour that the setting sun seemed to indicate to him? 

Frowning, Seokjin then remembered that that afternoon, classes had been canceled so that everyone could attend the finals of the inter-school football tournament. And suddenly he scream through the mask and the noise of the aerosol:

"THE CHAMPIONSHIP FINAL!!"

"What, did you really forget?" the other boy wondered as he approached and sit at the edge of the bed, where Seokjin's feet were, before adding: "You lost it, Gugbo lost and Choseon Middle School won."

"Eh?! B-but... But we were winning, I remember clearly!!" Seokjin recalled, stunned and desperate, trying to collect his last memories of the game, but it was difficult for him and he ended up grabbing  his aching head between both hands. The other looked at him with a concerned air before delivering him from this ignorance of what had happened which seemed to consume him.

"Yeah, you were, that's right, but then you left the match to go to the hospital after you fainted and Jungkook let off steam and made his team win."

"Jungkook?" Seokjin repeated, taking a few seconds before remembering who he was talking about. "Oh right, the captain of Choseon. He deserved to win but I am still so disap-"

 "No, he didn't deserve it," the other cut him. "You have to believe he needed you to leave to score. Seems like a big crap to me."

"Don't call him a crap, you know nothing about football, he's an amazing player!" Seokjin retorted, refraining from adding "and he's my friend".

"I say what I want, and I don't like at all hearing you defend him," the other replied, "he's a big loser who failed to beat you and showed off after you left only to look like he had talent against the shabby other players of Gugbo, that's all. He's pathetic, you won't make me change my mind, so stop trying."

Seokjin sulked at not being allowed to speak when he knew a lot more about football than him. He remained on his position: Jungkook really had talent, it was the other who did not know anything about it. In addition to not considering Jungkook pathetic, he believed that himself was the one who was pathetic in this match by fainting. His face contorted as he held back from showing how devastated he was by what had happened.

"He scored ten goals when you left," the other clarified, pushing Seokjin further into his distress.

"T-TEN?!" Seokjin repeated in a shocked scream and the other nodded. "But then, it means that we lost..." He paused to calculate but he shook his head as if he thought he had made a mistake in his mental calculations as his brain still seemed partly asleep and he started to calculate on his fingers like a child.

"11 to 3," the other helped him, seeing that Seokjin kept counting with his fingers to be sure and that he still thought he was wrong "Gugbo lost 11 to 3, can you imagine this humiliation? Luckily you weren't there to see it, I believe that the public would have thrown rotten fruit in your face."

"ELEVEN TO THREE?!" Seokjin repeated, shocked again, while the other had just confirmed his calculations, ignoring his hints about rotten fruit.

"Yeah, I'm not lying so stop repeating everything I say while shouting," the other boy confirmed, jabbing an annoyed finger in his ear, "the match resumed not long after you left for the hospital. I wasn't there anymore, but the others told me. You were replaced by a lousy player and that incompetent Dae-Ho wasn't able to lead the team without you, which surprised no one, apart from his father, you should have seen his face! He even got another yellow card because of a a tantrum against a player of Choseon that got him sent off.  Your team didn't score again after you left, it was a stinging humiliation and it proved that without you, Gugbo's football team was worthless, it should make you happy."

Appalled, Seokjin immediately felt his throat constrict but stopped himself from crying in front of the other.

"Happy?" he repeated slowly, bewildered at the other boy's offbeat remarks, "how could I be happy after what I just learned?"

"Well, thanks to this defeat, your value could be recognized by those who despised you," the other sneered. 

"You... you're the worst," whispered Seokjin, in the face of the boy's insensitivity.

"Maybe I am," he said with a shrug, "but still, you lost, not me."

"S-so I... I really lost?" Seokjin whispered, needing final confirmation that the other wasn't lying to him or that it wasn't a nightmare he was having.

"Yes,"  the other answered implacably, feeling it was necessary because Seokjin seemed completely lost, while watching him carefully to check that he does not have another attack, of anxiety this time. 

But Seokjin was a strong one. He had always been. He managed to overcome his distress, swallowing back his, tears to comeand asked in a small voice:

"W-what happened to me?"

"You had an asthma attack. You stopped breathing for a while but fortunately, someone revived you and then paramedics rushed you to the hospital to provide you with emergency respiratory assistance," the other explained quickely before showing the mask, "they said you could take off your mask when the aerosol stopped releasing gas and after that you should take Ventolin according to your usual prescriptions."

He took Seokjin's Ventolin out of his pocket to give it to him and the sick boy grabbed it with gratitude and relief. He squeezed his medicine tightly in his hand like his life depended on it, which somehow was the case.  

The other looked at him and waited for him to question him further but Seokjin's mind was elsewhere after that. He momentarily forgot where he was and with whom, as he thought of only one thing that haunted him as the memories of the match were surging painfully through him: he had lost the match he was supposed to win at all costs. How was it possible? What would happen to him if recruiter deemed that an asthmatic boy unable to play a full game without collapsing had no place on their high school team?

But suddenly, he remembered that he had already gotten the answer before the match,  it was in the letter he had received that morning. It meant that the school's answer had been given independently of the result of this match and therefore we could not refuse it because of this defeat! 

"I want my letter from high school," Seokjin said suddenly, looking up at the other boy. He had to know, his future depended on it. He had to know if his future had sadly changed that day.

But the other boy frowned and shook his head.

"No way, it wasn't what was agreed, I had to give it back to you if you won the match. But you lost, and not just a little!" Taehyung replied in a voice that has become imperious again.