Kpop Sickfics & Hurtfics

Fading Lights, Unbreakable Bonds (Zihao)

The night had settled over the city, a calming blanket of darkness dotted with twinkling stars. The members of Boy Story had just returned to their shared dorm after an intense day of rehearsals, interviews, and meetings. The six boys—Zihao, Hanyu, Xinlong, Mingrui, Zeyu, and Shuyang—were exhausted, each feeling the weight of their success pressing on them. Still, there was something different about tonight. It lingered in the air, a tension they couldn’t yet place.

As Zihao climbed the stairs to his room, he could feel his body dragging with a heaviness that had nothing to do with fatigue. His mind felt foggy, the edges of his vision starting to blur as he reached the top step. He had pushed himself hard that day—harder than usual. The practice session had been grueling, but what worried him more was the gnawing emptiness in his stomach, a sharp reminder that he hadn’t eaten much throughout the day. The thought flashed briefly in his mind, but his determination to perfect the choreography had kept him from taking any breaks.

Now, in the quiet darkness, Zihao regretted it.

His heart pounded irregularly in his chest, louder with each step he took down the hall. Sweat began to form on his brow, even though the dorm was cool. He brushed it off, figuring it was just exhaustion, but the feeling deepened, wrapping around him like an icy fist. By the time he reached his door, his hands were trembling uncontrollably.

He barely made it inside before the wave of dizziness hit him.

In the living room, the other members were unwinding from the long day. Hanyu and Xinlong were debating the best dance moves to adjust for the next performance, while Zeyu was scrolling through his phone, half-listening. Mingrui and Shuyang were watching some variety show on TV, laughing at the antics onscreen.

But Shuyang, the youngest, had always been more observant than the others gave him credit for. He noticed something wasn’t right when he saw how long Zihao had been gone.

“Hey, has anyone seen Zihao?” Shuyang asked, his voice cutting through the casual atmosphere.

The room went silent as the members exchanged glances. Zihao was usually the most composed among them, never one to wander off without saying anything.

“I think he went upstairs,” Hanyu said, but his tone carried uncertainty.

Shuyang got to his feet, his concern growing. "He seemed really tired today."

Hanyu, feeling a knot of worry twist in his gut, stood up too. “I’ll check on him.”

As Hanyu reached Zihao's door, he knocked gently, expecting to hear a familiar, calm response from the other side. Instead, there was silence. His stomach churned. He knocked again, louder this time. Still nothing.

"Zihao?" Hangyu's voice was louder now, edged with worry.

Without waiting, he twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open. What he saw made his heart plummet.

Zihao was on the floor, pale and trembling, his face contorted in pain. His body twitched, and his breathing was shallow, ragged.

“Zihao!” Hangyu rushed to his side, his voice trembling as panic set in. He knew about Zihao’s hypoglycemia, but he had never seen it this bad before.

The other members, alerted by Hanyu's shout, came rushing up the stairs. When they entered the room, the sight of Zihao's collapsed body sent a wave of fear crashing over them.

Xinlong was the first to react, kneeling beside Zihao and checking his pulse. It was weak but there. "He's hypoglycemic," Xinlong muttered, his voice tight with urgency. "We need to get him sugar—something, fast."

Mingrui sprinted downstairs without hesitation, grabbing the first sugary drink he could find in the fridge. He returned seconds later, thrusting a bottle of juice into Xinlong’s hand.

"Here, try this!" Mingrui’s voice shook, but his hands were steady as Xinlong opened the bottle.

Together, they lifted Zihao slightly, enough for Xinlong to tilt the juice to his lips. At first, he didn’t respond, his body limp in their arms, but after a few moments, his lips parted, and he swallowed weakly.

The minutes crawled by, the other members watching anxiously as Xinlong coaxed Zihao to drink more. Shuyang hovered by the doorway, his face pale as he watched his older brother struggle.

“He’s not getting better,” Zeyu whispered, his voice strained with fear.

“We’ve given him the juice, but his blood sugar might still be too low,” Xinlong said, his jaw tight. He looked around, trying to keep his panic at bay. "We need to get him to a hospital if this doesn't work."

Just as Xinlong said it, Zihao stirred, his eyelids fluttering weakly. His hand, shaky but deliberate, reached out, grasping Hangyu's arm.

“Zihao?” Hanyu leaned in, his voice filled with concern.

Zihao blinked slowly, the fog lifting ever so slightly from his mind. His body still felt heavy, his heart still racing uncomfortably, but the juice had begun to work. He could feel the faint return of strength, though it was fragile, like a flickering candle.

"I'm... okay," he croaked, though his voice lacked conviction.

"You're not okay," Hanyu replied, his voice trembling. "You scared the hell out of us, man."

Zihao managed a weak smile, his eyelids drooping. "Sorry... forgot to eat. Been... busy."

Zeyu exhaled sharply, shaking his head in disbelief. “Zihao, you can’t do that. You know what happens when you skip meals.”

“We almost had to take you to the hospital,” Mingrui added quietly, his face pale from worry. “You’ve never been this bad before.”

Zihao winced, the guilt settling into his already exhausted body. He hadn’t meant to worry them. It was just—today had been so packed, and the adrenaline had carried him through the hours. He hadn’t realized how dangerous it had become until it was too late.

“I’m sorry, guys,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “I didn’t mean to...”

The rest of the night was a blur of quiet murmurs and careful watching. They kept Zihao close, giving him small sips of juice and bites of food as he lay propped up on pillows, his strength slowly returning. His body, though still weak, responded to the care, and by the early morning, the color had returned to his face.

Shuyang sat by his bedside, his wide eyes filled with relief now that Zihao seemed stable.

“Promise you won’t do that again,” Shuyang said, his voice a quiet plea.

Zihao, his voice barely above a whisper, gave a weak laugh. “Promise. I’ll eat next time.”

"Good," Xinlong said from across the room. "You’re not allowed to scare us like that again."

Hanyu, sitting on the floor next to the bed, sighed, letting the tension drain from his body now that Zihao was recovering. “You’re lucky we caught it in time.”

“I know,” Zihao whispered, his eyelids heavy again, but this time with sleep. He knew he had pushed himself too far today, and he had to be more careful. For his own sake—and for his brothers'.

As the room finally quieted, the only sounds were the soft, rhythmic breathing of the six boys. For now, at least, the worst had passed, and Zihao was safe in the care of his family—his brothers who would always have his back, no matter what.