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The hasty, seemly panicked steps echoed through the monotonous white hallway. They belonged to the black haired boy who was clearly in distress: clenched expression, sharp movements and hints of dried blood still on his white uniform shirt. His friends were sitting in the nearby sitting area, watching him from afar helplessly.
"Jisung, at least let a doctor see you, please. You may have hurt yourself more than you realize." Jeno pleaded, but was boldly ignored by the younger who continued pacing.
"It's useless. If Jaemin couldn't help him calm down, who can?" Renjun sighed, head resting against the wall.
"He's right." Mark hummed. "Plus, he's a bit freaked out since he's blaming himself for Haeun getting hurt, and feels guilty."
"And we all know who's fault it really is." Renjun muttered out, turning his head.
The entire group looked over a bit farther, where a figure with slump shoulders rested against the wall. He looked weirdly calm, as if in his own thoughts, and instead of coming back with a threatening response, he remained silent.
Jaemin put his hand on Renjun's thigh. "Don't be like that. You know how easily Donghyuck can get mad."
"That doesn't justify what he did. Look around, where are we now because of him?" Renjun shot back with eyes full of disbelief.
"Enough the two of you. Everyone's under enough stress already, arguing won't help with anything." Jeno rolled his eyes disapprovingly.
"You guys are clearly missing the most important point."
All eyes set on Chenle, who was surprisingly relaxed. It wasn't too shocking, as he wasn't very expressive, but it was still rather unnerving.
"What do you mean?" Mark tilted his head.
"Like Jaemin said, Donghyuck has anger issues. Even if someone got hurt because of him, he wouldn't just stop there. The way he is now is weird. He doesn't even seem mad." Chenle clicked his tongue, and glanced over at the elder boy.
"He's not wrong." Jeno pointed out. "But what do you think happened?"
Their conversation was soon interrupted as they all heard the sound of metal hinges and a door dragging open. Turning their heads, they watched as two nurses left room 204, followed by a tall, middle-aged, emotionless doctor who held a wooden chart with a couple of papers clipped onto it.
Before the boys could even react, Jisung lunged at the man, stopping right in front of him.
"How's Haeun? Is she alright? Is she badly injured?" He bombarded with anticipating questions.
The doctor took a short second to look him from head-to-toe, frowning slightly, before letting the chart fall back to his side.
"Are you a relative of the patient?" He asked bluntly, voice cold and dispassionate.
