“Uhh,” Namjoon grumbled, sinking deeper into the cushions. Jin, stirring a pot of chicken soup, glanced over. A flicker of concern crossed his face. “What’s wrong?”
“We’re out of medicine. Who even ate the last of it?” Namjoon’s voice held a frustrated edge. “Now I have to go buy more. I’ll be back in fifteen.” He leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to Jin’s forehead. “Bye.”
Jin hummed a soft reply, returning to his simmering pot.
---
The evening sky had deepened to navy, the air growing crisp with a November chill. As Namjoon walked, a biting wind whipped around the corners of buildings. He sighed again, a knot of anxiety tightening in his chest. The empty medicine cabinet wasn’t just an inconvenience; it felt like a bad omen.
He reached the convenience store, its glass door reflecting the streetlights. The tiny bells above the door jingled as he pushed it open, a blast of warm air greeting him.
“Medicine…” he mumbled to himself, navigating the narrow aisles. “Ah.” He spotted a familiar box on the white shelves, inspected it briefly, and brought it to the counter.
“Two dollars,” the cashier mumbled, barely looking up. As Namjoon waited for his change, he scanned the small shop. A man near the back, fiddling with a bottle of liquor, caught his attention. Dressed in black, a cap pulled low over his eyes, the man exuded a quiet menace.
He looked vaguely familiar, a prickle of unease crawling up Namjoon’s spine. The man’s movements were too deliberate, too guarded.
The cashier handed Namjoon his change. Namjoon took it, shoving the receipt into his pocket. He shrugged off the uncomfortable feeling, telling himself it was just paranoia. He needed to get home.
As he walked, a sudden realization struck him. “Fuck.” He muttered under his breath, stuffing the medicine into his pocket and pulling his hoodie tighter. He hadn’t paid attention to his route. He hadn’t even noticed he was lost.
Halfway down a quiet street, he stopped, his heart hammering. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Where…?” He turned in a slow circle, disoriented. He didn’t recognize the houses, the streetlights, anything.
How had he gotten so turned around? He’d been so focused on that man in the store, so preoccupied with the unsettling feeling, that he hadn’t noticed where he was going.
Just as he considered flagging a taxi, a figure surged forward. A bottle shattered against his skull, a searing pain blooming in his head. Hands clamped over his mouth, suffocating him. He felt dizzy, disoriented, the world blurring into a swirling vortex of agony. Then, everything went black.
---
“Where the hell did he go?” Jin muttered, pacing in front of the clock. It had been nearly an hour since Namjoon left, and the fifteen-minute walk to the store should have brought him back by now.
He picked up his phone for the fifth time, his thumb hovering over the call button. He dialed Namjoon’s number, then hung up, then repeated the process. Worry gnawed at him, twisting into a cold knot of fear.
“Pick up, pick up,” he whispered, finally throwing his phone onto the sofa in frustration. Tears welled in his eyes.
Was Namjoon hurt? Was he okay?
He clasped his hands together, his body trembling with anxiety. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.
---
Jungkook groaned softly, stretching awake. He glanced at the clock—only an hour had passed since he’d fallen asleep. He gently touched Taehyung’s forehead, feeling the cool skin—a sign of his slow recovery.
He slipped out of bed and headed toward the living room. He needed to tell Jin how Taehyung was doing. He found Jin pacing anxiously, his face etched with worry.
“Jin?”
Jin jerked his head around, his expression momentarily shifting to relief before it was quickly replaced by fear. “Namjoon…he…”
“Namjoon?” Jungkook looked around, concern rising in his voice. “Where is he? What’s wrong?”
“He left to buy medicine, and it’s been over an hour since he left. The store is only fifteen minutes away!” Jin’s voice was barely a whisper, his eyes wide with panic.
“Fuck.” Jungkook muttered, then immediately regretted his outburst. He didn’t want to scare Jin further. “He’s probably just…running late.”
Jin shook his head, tears streaming down his face. “Where would he go at eight at night? He went to get medicine for Taehyung!”
“I’m sorry, but Taehyung needs you now,” Jungkook said gently, reaching out to take Jin’s hand. “He needs you to stay with him while he’s sick.”
Jin wiped his tears, his grip tightening around Jungkook’s hand. “Fine. But please, please make sure he’s okay.”
Jungkook squeezed Jin’s hand. “I hope so too.”