Kpop Sickfics and Hurtfics Part 2

Silenced Worries (Jo)

Jo woke up to a dull, throbbing ache in his throat. Swallowing felt like dragging glass down his esophagus, and his head felt foggy, as though he were underwater. Blinking against the pale morning light streaming through the dorm window, he tried to hum a little to check his voice.

Nothing.

Panic prickled at the edges of his mind. As an idol, his voice was his lifeline. Losing it, even temporarily, filled him with dread. He tried clearing his throat, hoping to force some sound out, but all he managed was a faint, painful rasp.

Jo slowly got out of bed, careful not to wake Taki, who was still fast asleep in the bunk below him. He shuffled to the bathroom, staring at his reflection in the mirror. His normally bright eyes were clouded with exhaustion, and his skin was a little paler than usual.

It's probably just a sore throat, he told himself. A warm drink and some rest might fix it. He didn't want to make a big deal out of it—his members were always bustling with energy, and he didn't want to disrupt their rhythm.

The kitchen was already lively when Jo stepped in. Taki and Yuma were chatting animatedly while Harua flipped pancakes at the stove. K, ever the diligent leader, was reviewing schedules and mumbling to himself. Jo poured himself a mug of tea, hoping the warmth might soothe his throat.

He tried to speak up. "Good morning."

The words came out as a whisper, drowned by the clatter of plates and the hum of conversation. No one seemed to notice.

Jo sipped his tea and looked around. He needed to tell someone about his condition, just in case it got worse. He tapped Taki on the shoulder, earning a cheerful, "Morning, senpai!"

Jo opened his mouth to explain but managed only a croak. Taki squinted at him. "Did you say something?"

Jo gestured to his throat, then shook his head, hoping Taki would understand.

"Oh, you lost your voice?" Taki guessed, tilting his head. Before Jo could nod, Fuma called out, "Taki, can you help me with this?"

"Coming!" Taki replied, flashing Jo a quick smile. "Take it easy, senpai!"

And just like that, Taki was gone, leaving Jo standing there with his tea.

During morning practice, Jo's voice didn't matter much—dance drills were the focus. But by the time they moved to vocal rehearsals, he knew he couldn't keep up. When it was his turn to sing, he waved his hand, signaling for EJ to skip him.

EJ frowned, walking over. "What's wrong?"

Jo pointed to his throat again, miming a pained expression.

"Your throat's sore?" EJ asked.

Jo nodded.

"Drink some water," EJ said, patting his back. "We'll take it easy on vocals today."

Jo wanted to explain that it wasn't just a sore throat, but the words wouldn't come out. EJ was already moving back to his clipboard, adjusting the schedule for the day. Jo felt a pang of frustration—he didn't want to be coddled, but he also didn't want to be ignored.

By lunch, Jo's head was pounding. The effort of trying to get through the day in silence was taking a toll. He caught Harua sitting alone and decided to try again. Harua was often quiet like him, and Jo hoped he might be more attuned to subtle gestures.

He sat down across from Harua and tapped his arm to get his attention. Harua looked up, pulling out one of his earbuds. "What's up, Jo-senpai?"

Jo typed a quick note on his phone: I lost my voice. I'm feeling really unwell.

Harua read the message but seemed distracted. Before he could respond, Taki bounded over, holding a tray of food. "Harua-senpai, did you see this? They added our favorite dish today!"

Harua smiled, his focus shifting. "Oh, really? Let's go grab some before it's gone." He handed Jo's phone back without a second thought. "Feel better, senpai!"

Jo slumped in his seat as Harua and Taki walked off. His quiet nature, usually a strength, was now a barrier. Everyone assumed his silence was just part of who he was.

As the day wore on, Jo's fever began to climb. His body felt heavier with every movement, and the throbbing in his throat had spread to his temples.

In the middle of dance practice, he stumbled slightly. Yuma, noticing, reached out to steady him. "Jo, are you okay?"

Jo nodded weakly, not trusting himself to try and explain again.

"You're just tired, right?" Yuma asked, giving him a reassuring smile. "Hang in there. We're almost done."

Jo nodded again, biting back the urge to collapse right then and there.

That evening, the group gathered for a final debrief with K. Jo sat on the couch, leaning against the armrest for support. He tried to follow the conversation, but the words blurred together as his fever worsened.

K noticed his dazed expression and frowned. "Jo, are you paying attention?"

Jo looked up, startled. He shook his head slightly, then gestured to his throat, mouthing, I'm sick.

K misinterpreted the gesture. "If your throat still hurts, just rest. We'll adjust your parts for tomorrow's practice."

Jo's chest tightened, frustration mixing with the overwhelming fatigue. He wanted to scream—not that he could—but he didn't have the energy to keep trying.

That night, Jo's body gave out. During a late-night rehearsal, he collapsed mid-step, crumpling to the floor. For a moment, the room was silent as the members processed what had just happened.

"Jo!" Nicholas was the first to reach him, dropping to his knees. He pressed a hand to Jo's forehead and flinched at the heat radiating off him. "He's burning up!"

The others crowded around, panic setting in.

"How long has he been like this?" Fuma asked, his voice shaking.

"I don't know," K admitted, guilt evident in his tone. "He didn't say anything."

"But he tried," Yuma said softly, remembering the note Jo had shown him earlier. "He tried to tell us, and we didn't listen."

Taki's eyes filled with tears. "I thought he was just being quiet, like always. I didn't think—"

"We all missed it," Fuma said firmly, though his voice wavered. "Now's not the time for regret. Let's get him to a doctor."

As Jo drifted in and out of consciousness, he felt hands lifting him, voices murmuring anxiously around him. He wanted to tell them he was sorry for worrying them, but all he could do was squeeze Taki's hand weakly before darkness overtook him.

The next morning, Jo woke up in a hospital bed, an IV drip attached to his arm. His throat still burned, but his fever had broken. Blinking against the harsh fluorescent lights, he turned his head to see his members huddled in the corner, their faces etched with worry.

K noticed he was awake first. "Jo!" He rushed to his side, the others following close behind.

"You scared us, senpai," Maki said, his voice trembling.

"We're so sorry," Harua added, his eyes red-rimmed. "You tried to tell us, and we didn't listen."

Jo shook his head weakly, trying to convey that he didn't blame them.

"No, don't do that," Yuma said, his voice firm. "You have every right to be upset. We should've noticed. We know how quiet you are, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't pay attention."

K placed a hand on Jo's shoulder. "From now on, we're going to do better. If something's wrong, we'll notice. You don't have to go through this alone."

Jo's eyes filled with tears at their words. For the first time in days, he felt truly heard. Despite his struggles, his members had his back—and he knew they always would.