After the boys finally finished training, their bodies heavy and limbs trembling from exhaustion, the group split up instinctively. Some of them went toward the kitchen, still catching their breath as they began preparing dinner, the clatter of pots and the hiss of running water blending with their quiet chatter.
The rest headed toward the showers, peeling off damp, clingy clothes. Steam soon filled the hallways, carrying the clean scent of soap as they tried to wash away the sharp tang of sweat and the burn of overworked muscles.
“Great job, guys! Keep going. You really deserve to rest for the day,” the leader praised, voice strong despite the fatigue weighing on him.
A few boys lifted their hands in tired acknowledgment while others simply slumped onto the benches. Taeyong allowed himself a faint smile before turning toward the kitchen, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension coiled there.
As Taeyong stepped towards the kitchen, Doyoung emerged from the it, wiping his hands on a towel. Taeyong slowed. “Where are you going, Doyoung?” he asked the boy who crossed paths with him outside the kitchen.
“Her wound is a bit better,” Doyoung explained, softening slightly. “So I’m trying to get her to walk a little. That’s why I want to ask if she wants to come downstairs to eat with us — especially now that Sungchan is here to check on her, since they’re free tomorrow anyway,” he answered.
Taeyong exhaled, a long, strained breath that carried more annoyance than approval.
Taeyong’s nostrils flared, irritation flickering across his expression like a shadow he didn’t bother trying to hide.
“Do you have—”
“No,” Taeyong cut him off sharply. His expression softening a little. “It’s fine.” he sighed. “I’m trying to get used to it. I told you — I’ll try my best.”
Doyoung smiled faintly at his words, proud Taeyong was ready to see the other side of the story.
“Kun said Hendery's state is improving.” Doyoung added with relief softening his voice. “Better than yesterday.”
“That’s a relief. Truly.”
A faint, almost forgotten curve tugged at Taeyong’s lips, and for a moment, the tightness around his eyes eased.
“Woah,” Doyoung laughed softly, nudging Taeyong’s arm, “I haven’t seen that smile in forever. You should smile more often again, hyung.”
With that, he headed upstairs, footsteps light but his words lingering longer than he realized.
Not long after, Doyoung returned, carrying a sense of purpose.
“Mark, Jeno,” he called, catching both boys as they finished drying their hair. “Can you help her downstairs once dinner’s ready?”
“Of course, hyung,” Mark said immediately, exchanging a quick nod with Jeno. Both boys straightened, taking the task more seriously than Taeyong expected.
From the kitchen, Johnny’s voice echoed brightly,
“You can go now! We’re almost done here! Dinner’s coming out fast tonight!”
Pans clinked and someone laughed, filling the house with a rare warmth.
Mark and Jeno exchanged a final look before jogging up the stairs, steps quick with anticipation and a little nervousness about the fragile girl waiting in the room.
Downstairs, the kitchen filled with the clatter of dishes and quiet chatter as the boys moved around each other, setting plates, chopsticks, cups and steaming bowls of food on the long dining table.
By the time everything was ready, footsteps echoed from the staircase. Mark and Jeno appeared, supporting the girl carefully between them — more carrying her than supporting her to walk. They stopped in the doorframe.
