Another World (yeongyu ff)

28

Authors POV

Yeonjun walked down the hallway of his school, his steps slow and thoughtful. His eyes were fixed on some invisible point in front of him, his mind clearly preoccupied. The other students passing by barely registered in his perception, their voices blending into background noise, like the murmur of a distant crowd. His thoughts were completely consumed by memories of Beomgyu, each memory playing like a scene in a well-rehearsed play, each one as vivid as the moment it was lived. The pain, the joy, the fear, the passion - all swirled together in a bittersweet mix.
As Yeonjun walked with his friends, he tried his best to hide the fact that he wasn't feeling well. His friends, observant and caring, noticed his pale complexion and the slight limp in his step. They asked if everything was alright, expressing their concern. But every time, Yeonjun brushed off their worry, forcing a smile and saying he was fine. His friends could tell something was off, but they didn't push further, respecting his apparent wish to keep his troubles private.
Yeonjun had been trying to keep up the appearance of being fine, but suddenly, the world started to spin. His vision grew hazy, and his legs felt like they were about to give out.

He stumbled, his body feeling incredibly weak and heavy. The sounds around him grew muted and distant, and his limbs felt oddly unresponsive. His friends noticed how he stumbled, their voices calling out to him, but he couldn't make out their words, the dizziness overwhelming him completely.
As he stumbled and fell to the ground, his friends rushed to his side, their voices filled with concern and worry. Yeonjun himself felt like he was struggling to stay conscious, his body feeling like it was sinking into a strange, dream-like state. The ground below him seemed to shift and sway, making it difficult for him to keep his bearings. He could vaguely hear his friends asking questions, their words coming through the thick fog in his mind, but he couldn't form a coherent answer.
The world around Yeonjun seemed to blur and warp, the colors and shapes blending together in a disconcerting way. His friends' voices sounded increasingly distant, as if they were speaking to him from the other end of a long, echoing tunnel. He tried to speak, to tell them he was okay, but the words stuck in his throat, his body not cooperating. He felt a strange mixture of fear and indifference, a detached sense of reality that made it hard to distinguish what was real and what was a hallucination.
As his mind and body continued to struggle against the onslaught of dizziness and weakness, Yeonjun felt his grip on consciousness slowly start to slip away. The voices of his friends grew fainter, and the colors and shapes around him began to dim. He fought to stay awake, to cling to some semblance of awareness, but it was a losing battle. His eyelids grew heavy, and his body felt like it was filled with lead. Finally, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he lost consciousness, collapsing fully onto the ground.
By this point, a small crowd of people had gathered around Yeonjun's unconscious form, their curiosity and concern pulling them closer. Some were students from the school, others were passersby, but they all watched anxiously as his friends desperately tried to figure out what was wrong and what to do next.

Seeing as they had no medical experience, they quickly decided the best course of action was to take him to the nearest hospital, hoping that the professionals there would be able to help.

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Yeonjun's POV

I groggily opened my eyes, wincing as I was assaulted by the harsh light from the hospital room's fluorescent lights. My head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and my body ached as if I had been run over by a truck. I tried to recall what had happened before I had ended up in this hospital bed, but my mind was a blank slate. The last thing I remembered was stumbling in the hallway, and then waking up here.
Just as I was beginning to sit up, the door to my hospital room opened, and a doctor walked in. He was a middle-aged man with a no-nonsense demeanor, his eyes scanning over a file in his hands before looking up to meet my gaze.