nurse's office | minsung ✓

5

Jisung didn't return to the nurse's office right away. He couldn't.

Despite the strange comfort he felt when he was with Minho, the old habits of keeping everything locked up inside were still too strong. There was no way he could just...show up again like nothing was wrong, right? He was supposed to be fine, or at least look fine. And going back there would mean admitting that he wasn't.

But as the days dragged on, he found it harder and harder to keep up the act. The same numb routine replayed over and over—staring blankly at textbooks he couldn't focus on, ignoring classmates who didn't even know his name, skipping lunch to avoid the cafeteria full of groups he didn't belong to.

Even the smallest things felt heavy. Waking up in the morning felt like a monumental task. The noise of the school halls made his head throb. And every time he passed the nurse's office on his way to class, his heart did this weird, anxious flutter, like it was pulling him toward the door, even though he knew he wasn't ready to go back in.

It wasn't until another rough day had reached its breaking point that Jisung found himself in the same hallway as before, standing in front of that door, his heart racing in his chest. He had no idea why he was even there—his feet had just carried him, almost against his will, until he found himself facing that familiar wooden door.

His hand hovered over the handle for what felt like an eternity.

What are you doing, Jisung? he scolded himself. You're not supposed to be here. You're fine. You can handle this on your own.

But he wasn't fine. And some part of him was finally starting to accept that.

With a shaky breath, Jisung turned the handle and stepped inside.

Minho was sitting at his desk, flipping through some paperwork, but as soon as Jisung entered, he looked up, his expression unreadable as always. For a moment, Jisung froze, waiting for Minho to say something, anything, that would confirm he wasn't welcome here. But instead, Minho just nodded toward the chair where Jisung had sat before, his face calm.

"Have a seat."

The words were simple, but there was something about them—something unspoken in Minho's quiet, steady gaze—that made Jisung feel like maybe it wasn't so strange for him to be there after all.

He sat down, his fingers immediately fidgeting with the sleeves of his hoodie. He wasn't sure why he was there or what he was supposed to say. The silence between them stretched out, and Jisung's nerves twisted tighter and tighter with every second.

But Minho didn't seem bothered by the quiet. He simply leaned back in his chair, waiting. Giving Jisung the space to speak, if he wanted to.

Minutes passed, and still, Jisung couldn't find the words. His heart pounded, his mind racing with a hundred different thoughts, each one more confusing than the last. But then Minho broke the silence.

"You don't have to talk if you're not ready," Minho said softly. "But you came here for a reason."

Jisung's chest tightened. A reason. Did he even know what that reason was? He hadn't thought that far ahead. He had just...ended up here.

"I just..." Jisung's voice was barely more than a whisper. "I didn't know where else to go."

It felt stupid to admit that out loud, but Minho didn't react. He didn't judge. He just waited patiently for Jisung to continue, and the more time passed, the easier it became to speak.

"I don't know why I'm like this," Jisung muttered, staring down at his hands. "I should be fine, you know? It's not like...it's not like anything really happened. People have it worse, and I'm just..." He trailed off, struggling to find the right words.

Minho didn't interrupt. He just listened.

"I just feel like I don't belong here," Jisung continued, his voice growing quieter. "Not in school. Not with anyone. Everything's just...empty."

That last word hung in the air between them, heavy and suffocating. Jisung wanted to pull it back, to take it away before it could make him sound too weak, too broken. But Minho didn't say a word. He simply waited, watching him with those calm eyes that somehow made Jisung feel like maybe it was okay to be weak. Maybe it was okay to be vulnerable, just for a second.

Jisung swallowed hard, blinking back the burning sensation in his eyes. He was so tired of holding everything in, so tired of pretending that everything was fine when it wasn't.

"I miss them," he admitted, the words spilling out before he could stop them. "My friends. They're all gone now. Felix moved away. Seungmin's always busy. And Jeongin...he's in another country. And I...I don't know how to be okay without them."

His voice cracked at the end, and the floodgates he had been holding shut for so long finally broke. He felt tears sting his eyes, and for once, he didn't try to stop them. He just sat there, letting the weight of everything he had been carrying crush him, piece by piece.

Minho didn't say anything right away, but when he finally spoke, his words were soft, careful. "It's okay to feel like that, Jisung. It doesn't make you weak."

Jisung's breath hitched. Weak. That word had always haunted him. But hearing Minho say it like that... it didn't sound so scary anymore.

"You don't have to do this alone," Minho added, his voice steady and reassuring. "I'm here. We can figure it out together."

For the first time in what felt like forever, Jisung felt the faintest glimmer of hope. It wasn't much—just a small flicker of light in the darkness—but it was enough to keep him from sinking completely.

And that, for now, was enough.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶