#* backdated

(one missed call) (one missed call) (unknown number left a message) “Good afternoon Han Rowon-ssi. This is Nurse Kim from Seoul General Hospital. We’ve been trying to contact you concerning Kang Minjun. He got into an accident and you were informed to be his emergency contact, so if this number still belongs to Han Rowon and you know one Kang Minjun, we would like you to come to the hospital. If you do not know this person, we’re very sorry to disturb you with this information and you can ignore this message. Thank you, have a good day.”​

rowon can count the number of times he’s felt true fear on one hand.  the first was when he lost someone he was asked to keep a close eye on.  the second was when he saved another from going over a cliff.  and the third … is hearing this.

his heart sinks to his stomach.  his mind goes blank.  he barely registers what’s said beyond kang minjun and accident.  not that it matters;  he doesn’t need the details.  accident is enough to have him grabbing his keys, pulling on his shoes, his jacket — where the hell is his — no matter, there’s no time to waste.  he can deal with the cold.

rowon doesn’t know when he gets here, or how, really, but none of that matters either.  the only thing that does is that he’s here, breathless, eyes blown wide, asking for which wing, which room, yes, i’m family.  unfortunately, the receptionist recognizes him from the times he’d swung by to visit his brother.  fortunately, months of making small talk pays off;  she slips the room number.

when he first walked these corridors, he was light on his feet.  he let the nurses sweep him left and right as they tried to sugarcoat what happened to robin.  all he remembers is the feeling of annoyance lodged between his teeth.  the same annoyance now clings to a twisted gut and a parched mouth.  his steps are heavier this time around, as if they’re telling him stop, don’t go, you don’t want to see.  but he has to.  he needs to.  he needs to make sure that minjun’s okay, that he’s all right, that he’s —

it took him just a few sips of beer to ease his anxiety and exactly one shot of soju to give him the courage to talk to a girl. ( and by talk, we mean rattling on about the laws surrounding liquor imports and how his father, a politician, was at the forefront of alleviating restrictive policies — )

whatever happened afterwards, dom did not want to could not remember. one moment, he was talking to someone, and the next, he was sulking in a corner, knees pulled up to his chest, his suit jacket lost somewhere to the rowdy crowd.

       "Wow." Sonic is staring and one step away from drooling. Although his affinity for chilli has dwindled over the years, he knows how good Luigi's cooking is — and boy does it smell good. Is that the sound of his stomach growling? How embarrassing.

       Sonic has to try real hard to resist his first instinct of throwing this thing far away. Very far away. In fact, as far away from him as it could possibly go.

     Not for any malicious reasons — it's just that, usually, when Eggman sends him stuff it comes with a second gift: a bomb. And he's not in the mood for being covered in soot. But... this one doesn't have a screen. And it's not ticking, nor can he see any kind of timer sewn into the back. It's a regular toy, full of naught but stuffing, and there's an accompanying card. He hadn't been expecting something in return.

     Sonic never looks before he leaps; not in battle, not in life... and definitely not into bed, which is to say he doesn't notice the box until he's already flopped on top of it. One corner wedges into him on impact and he shoots up immediately, a spasm of pain (and surprise) contorting his face. Initially, the mind blames a certain two-tailed roommate — it wouldn't be the first time he's left something here, and it won't be the last, but the wrapping paper throws his decision. Tails isn't known for having black and white tastes.

     He repositions to sit cross-legged on the hammock, box in hand, twisting it every which way for inspection. It's wrapped so delicately that he almost feels bad for tearing it open. Almost; because whatever's inside is more important. Sonic handles it's contents, both note and bag, with a sincere amount of care. He doesn't recognize the handwriting, but the message... he easily smiles before placing it aside.

     Over countless years of adventuring, the idea of a compass has never crossed his mind. Sonic follows the wind, and the wind always takes him where he needs to go — when in doubt, the north star has been a steady companion. But this is a gift, one wrapped in love and gold, and he wonders who wants him to come home.

it’s lunch break, and chaeyoung feels nervous. she told jinsoul she would meet her outside so they could have lunch together, but today was different from any other day. 

she doesn’t know when the feelings started happening. she just remembers feeling like she was thrown into a cold pool. it was sudden, shocking... enough to nearly knock the air from chae’s lungs completely. jinsoul had always been a good friend, so when chaeyoung suddenly felt different... it was terrifying. what if she scared jinsoul? that’s the last thing she wanted. the two had been friends for a while now, and chaeyoung cherished that above all else.

that’s why she had been working so hard to push those feelings down. the feeling of wanting something more from someone she originally just considered a friend. it was the first time chaeyoung had felt something like that with anyone.

but now she could feel herself drowning. she had no more space to push the feelings aside.

she finds jinsoul in the courtyard, and butterflies inhabit her stomach once again. her friend looks beautiful, as she always does, and chaeyoung feels her cheeks grow warm as she gets closer.

and then the distance is closed between them, and chaeyoung feels like she’s about to suffocate. tears threaten to surface as she gently grabs her friend’s hand, “can we talk?”

normally chaeyoung would be excited that jiwon wanted to hang out; she didn’t get to see her friend very often since they went to different schools.

but jiwon’s message sounded... serious. she had no idea what it was about, just that jiwon wanted to talk, and chaeyoung was worried she did something to offend or upset the other. she grips the strap on her purse and quickens the pace of her step.

the two were supposed to meet at a park, and chaeyoung scanned the area before her gaze settled on jiwon, sitting on a bench. she took a deep breath and walked over, trying to settle her nerves. she let her mouth curved into a smile as she walked into jiwon’s view. “jiwon~” she called, “i’m so glad to see you.”