Kpop Sickfics and Hurtfics Part 2

The Weight of the Air (Ricky)

Ricky had always been careful. His asthma wasn't something he wanted to advertise—not out of shame, but out of a desire not to worry his members. The hectic life of an idol already came with enough stress, and the last thing Ricky wanted was to add more. It was his responsibility to manage his condition, and he prided himself on doing so quietly and efficiently.

As the members of ZEROBASEONE prepared to board a flight to China for a packed schedule, Ricky felt the familiar buzz of nerves mixed with excitement. Airports were always chaotic, but this time felt especially overwhelming. Fans crowded every pathway, their cheers, screams, and camera flashes forming an almost impenetrable wall of energy.

Ricky clutched the strap of his bag, trying to focus on Jiwoong, who led the group through the terminal. He felt the first pangs of discomfort—a slight tightness in his chest—but he brushed it off. It was nothing he couldn't handle.

"Ricky, you okay?" Matthew asked, noticing his unusually quiet demeanor.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Ricky replied, forcing a smile. He wasn't about to let something as small as a little tightness ruin the day.

The flight began smoothly enough. Ricky slid into his seat next to Matthew, grateful for the brief reprieve from the crowd's chaos. The members were chatting animatedly, excited about their upcoming schedule, and Ricky joined in here and there, though his focus was waning.

As the plane ascended, Ricky felt the tightness in his chest worsen. He leaned down to retrieve his inhaler from his bag—a safety net he never traveled without. But as his hands rummaged through the pockets, a cold realization washed over him.

It's not here.

Panic began to set in. He couldn't have forgotten it, could he? He always double-checked before leaving. But no matter how many times he searched, the inhaler was nowhere to be found.

His breathing grew shallower, his chest constricting painfully. He tried to take slow, deep breaths, but it was like trying to breathe through a straw. His hands trembled as he gripped the armrest, his vision beginning to blur.

"Ricky?" Matthew's voice cut through the haze.

Ricky turned to him, his eyes wide and brimming with tears. He tried to respond, but all that came out were wheezes. The sound was faint but terrifying.

Matthew's face filled with alarm. "Ricky, what's wrong? Can you breathe?"

Ricky shook his head, clutching at his chest as his breaths grew more ragged.

"Do you have an inhaler?" Matthew asked, his voice rising in panic.

Ricky shook his head again, tears spilling over. Matthew immediately turned to the rest of the group.

"Guys! Something's wrong with Ricky!"

The members crowded around his seat, their expressions shifting from confusion to fear as they took in Ricky's pale complexion and labored breathing. Jiwoong crouched next to him, his leader instincts kicking in.

"Ricky, look at me," Jiwoong said firmly. "Focus on my voice. We'll help you."

The commotion drew the attention of a flight attendant, who quickly assessed the situation and spoke into the intercom. "If there is a doctor on board, please make yourself known."

Ricky's head swam, his chest burning with every shallow breath. The world around him felt distant, the concerned voices of his members blending into an incomprehensible hum. He barely registered when a man stepped forward, identifying himself as a doctor.

The doctor knelt beside Ricky, his movements swift and efficient. "He's having an asthma attack," he said to the flight attendant. "I need the first aid kit."