𝙴𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 4 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 | HAOBIN AU

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 16

The days had blurred together into a whirlwind of emotions for Hanbin. Ever since Hao had distanced himself, things hadn’t felt the same. Even after learning about Hao’s illness, Hanbin tried to stay positive. He told himself that it wasn’t as serious as it seemed—that Hao was still the same, still strong. But deep down, he was worried, really worried.

Hao’s departure from school was just around the corner. He had less than a week left, and it felt like every chance to spend time together was slipping away. Hanbin couldn’t stand the thought of not seeing him every day, of not feeling his presence just a few steps away.

ᯓ★

“Hey, you busy tomorrow?” Hanbin asked casually, leaning against Hao’s locker after school.

Hao glanced at him, his face pale, dark circles under his eyes betraying his exhaustion. He fidgeted with the books in his hand before shaking his head. “I don’t think I can, Hanbin.”

Hanbin’s brow furrowed, trying to keep the disappointment from showing. “Why not? You don’t have to leave until next week. It’s just one afternoon. We could grab lunch, take a walk... you know, just hang out.”

Hao hesitated, his fingers tightening around his books. “I just… I don’t feel up for it.”

Hanbin sighed. “Hao, it’s been days. I know about your illness, but… I didn’t think it was this bad. We don’t have to do anything strenuous. Just sitting and talking would be fine.”

Hao looked away, guilt gnawing at him. He could feel the weakness creeping up on him every day—getting out of bed was hard, let alone going out. But he didn’t want to burden Hanbin with that truth, not when he was trying so hard to be supportive.

“I’m just tired,” Hao said quietly, avoiding Hanbin’s gaze. “Maybe another time.”

Hanbin’s heart sank. He could feel the wall between them getting higher, even though he was trying to reach out. “You’ve been saying that a lot lately.”

"I know. I just need to rest,” Hao mumbled.

“Rest? Hao, we hardly see each other anymore,” Hanbin’s voice was edged with frustration, though he tried to keep it in check. “You’re leaving next week, and we haven’t even—"

“I’m sorry,” Hao cut him off, his voice strained. “I really am. I just… I can’t.”

Hanbin’s chest tightened, anger and hurt bubbling up inside him. He wasn’t angry at Hao, not really. He was angry at the situation. He wanted to understand, to help, but Hao kept pushing him away.

“Is it really that bad?” Hanbin asked, his voice quieter now, laced with concern.

Hao flinched at the question, the truth sitting like a stone in his throat. It was bad. Worse than he let on. But he didn’t want Hanbin to know that. He didn’t want to see the worry, the pity, the sadness in his eyes.

“I’m fine, Hanbin,” Hao said, forcing a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I just need a little more time.”

Hanbin stared at him, searching his face for any hint of the truth, but all he saw was the same forced smile that Hao had been wearing for weeks.

“Okay,” Hanbin finally said, his voice hollow. “If that’s what you need.”

ᯓ★

The next day, Hanbin sat at his desk, staring at the empty chair beside him. Hao’s absence felt like a gaping hole in the room. He tried to focus on his schoolwork, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Hao—how pale he’d looked, how weak his voice had sounded. He wanted to believe Hao when he said he was fine, but something about the way he’d been acting told him otherwise.