Chapter 42
Chapter 42
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 42
Chapter Title: This Life is Space Star 42
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A whirlwind of thoughts swirled in my head.
For now, I sat the kid down in the building's flower bed and checked his condition. I pulled off his sock and touched around his ankle.
"Where exactly does it hurt?"
"I dunno, hyung. I think I twisted it."
His pale face suggested it was a proper sprain.
"Hyung, what do I do? Manager's gonna kill me if he finds out. The trainers too..."
"Is that what's important right now?"
Seeing the maknae spout nonsense even now made me sigh.
What the hell was I supposed to do?
I called Seok-hwan hyung, but no answer. Same with Min-gi hyung. After leaving a bunch of missed call notices, I rubbed my frustrated chest.
For now, I'd have to handle this on my own.
"Let's go to the hospital first. Get an X-ray, and if there's a problem, get some meds."
"Hyung, it hurts too much to walk."
"I'll help you. Don't worry."
The maknae nodded. I bent over awkwardly to drape his smaller arm over my shoulder.
"Ow."
"Easy does it."
Was the bone broken or something?
His young face, eyelashes brimming with tears, came into view.
He looked scared.
His ankle hurt from the sprain, and he was worried this might mess up debut schedules. Or that it'd cause trouble for the hyungs during practice.
That's when it hit me—the thing I'd overlooked until now.
That Ji-ho was 17.
That he wasn't an adult yet. And that he was five years younger than me, the dongsaeng I needed to look out for most.
"Just hang in there a bit."
I said it as we edged toward the roadside to hail a taxi.
"I'll get you to the hospital quick."
* * *
We ended up at a university hospital's ER.
Because it was a holiday, every other hospital was closed.
The doctor assigned to Ji-ho diagnosed it casually in a bored tone: just a light sprain.
Rest for a couple days and it'd be fine, no worries.
After paying the bill, we stepped out with Ji-ho.
"You okay?"
"The anti-inflammatory helped a bit."
His brighter complexion eased my mind.
"Don't scare me like that. You had me freaking out."
"Sorry."
Normally he'd hit back with something cheeky like, "You like me that much?" but his meek apology felt off.
"Hyung, but..."
Ji-ho glanced around cautiously before asking softly.
"You gonna tell the others? The hyungs or the trainers?"
"Of course. Min-gi hyung's picking us up tomorrow morning—what am I supposed to say? Can you go down stairs?"
"Hang on."
He stood, took a few steps, then plopped back down.
"Doesn't look like it."
"Don't sweat it. Who's gonna chew you out for resting a day or two from an injury?"
"It's not the scolding—it's the nagging that scares me. Bi-ju hyung would lecture me for a week straight. Nah, he'd babysit me down every staircase for a month."
"Think positive. Means we're looking out for you."
"I'm not a baby."
I stared at the chocolate milk in the maknae's hand.
Ji-ho cleared his throat awkwardly and changed the subject.
"So, we should get our stories straight at least, hyung. Say I wasn't checking my phone when I tripped—say it was unavoidable, like I sprained it during dance practice."
"Why are you so scared of getting an earful?"
"Just..."
Ji-ho mumbled vaguely.
"Don't like anyone looking at me disappointed."
"No one's disappointed over something like this. Told you, chill."
Even if there was trouble, I'd take the heat.
Though I doubted it'd come to that.
"I'll step in if anyone says anything."
The maknae's eyes blinked rapidly, gazing at me with an odd expression.
Hard to read, even if I could copy it perfectly.
Just as his lips parted—
"Wang Ji-ho!"
A booming yell from diaphragmatic breathing echoed. Amid stares from passersby, someone stood there.
Why was he here?
A sharp-featured young man in a striped shirt and black jeans rushed over, face frantic.
"You okay? Hurt? Who did it? Who?!"
"Ri-hyeok, what are you doing here?"
Ri-hyeok whipped his head toward me at my question.
"What happened?"
Why was he overreacting like this?
His shirt was sweat-stained like he'd run here, cheeks flushed but the rest corpse-pale. I knew he looked out for Ji-ho quietly, but this reaction for a sprained ankle seemed overkill.
"He said he can't walk anymore?"
"What?"
Ri-hyeok and I blinked at each other.
Then we both turned to the maknae, sensing something off.
He slyly averted his eyes.
"Wang Ji-ho."
"...Yeah?"
"Explain. Now."
Ri-hyeok and I crossed our arms, looming over Ji-ho in his chair.
"Well... I told Ri-hyeok hyung I was hurt and which hospital, but I said it hurt like I'd never walk again."
"Don't lie. You didn't send me that."
"I meant to, but it hurt midway typing in the taxi, so I stopped."
So that's who he was texting in the taxi, whining about the pain.
Even abbreviating "I can't walk anymore" by dropping the "anymore."
I clicked my tongue while Ji-ho eyed Ri-hyeok. Ri-hyeok was fuming in real time.
"Hey. So for a sprain that heals in a week..."
"Not a week—two days."
The maknae shot me a resentful glare for interrupting.
"So the leg? It's fine?"
"Kinda hurts."
"Right. Fine's good. Fine's all that matters."
As Ri-hyeok muttered to cool off—
I'd thought we'd dodged it smoothly, but he narrowed his eyes at something.
"Hold up, Wang Ji-ho. Isn't that my shirt?"
"Nah, probably not..."
"It is mine. I said I couldn't lend it 'cause it's new."
Ri-hyeok's head snapped toward me, conviction set.
"You knew?"
"Oh man, no clue. Whoa, that your shirt? Why'd you do that, Ji-ho."
I knew but hadn't bothered.
Didn't expect to run into him.
Normally he'd chew me out for forgetting, but luckily his anger targeted the maknae.
Stay quiet and I'd skate by—but if Wang Ji-ho could stay quiet, he wouldn't be Wang Ji-ho.
"Hyung, I'm a patient—you can't hit meee!"
"You little punk!"
The maknae, smacked like a kid caught at a PC bang by mom, cried out to me for salvation.
"Hyung, you said you'd step in! Ow!"
Naturally.
"Oh, call from the manager."
I ignored him cheerfully.
* * *
-What's up?
"Nothing big. Took Ji-ho out, and he sprained his ankle."
Silence on the line.
Scary.
I quickly explained per the five W's.
-How bad? Serious?
"Not serious. Doc says meds and two days rest."
-Good. How'd it happen?
Cold sweat trickled down my neck.
"Sneaker caught in a sidewalk crack. Anyway, circumstances."
-Hospital?
"University one. Sinchon."
-...Whew, glad it's nothing. Ji-ho okay?
Off in the distance, Ji-ho sat on a bench getting his back smacked. ("I was watching a robot vacuum demo and had to leave midway! Ro! Bot! Va-cu-um!", "I'm a patient!")
He glanced around worriedly, but luckily no one stared.
"Ji-ho seems fine. Sorry for bothering you on your day off, hyung. Situation was chaotic—didn't know who to call."
-Yeah. Who else you gonna call?
A pleased tone from the receiver.
-We'll talk when you're back at the dorm. Head in early even if you wanna hang more. Don't get hurt wandering on a day like this. You guys' bodies are your assets. Got it? ("Who is it?")
"Got i—wait? Hyung, was that a girl's voice? Who?"
-On a date, dude.
I figured he'd hang up quick, but curiosity hit.
"Real person?"
-Too much, man.
Laughter.
-Gotta text your PT trainer later. Tell 'em to drill you hard so no funny ideas.
"Ah, um..."
-Talk later.
Teased him and got nothing back.
I texted Min-gi hyung not to worry, then headed to the bench.
Ceasefire now.
"Feeling better, Ri-hyeok?"
"Better? Nah, just warming up. He made me leave a robot vacuum expo midway. Cutting-edge tech."
"I'll buy you that vacuum."
"Not out yet. Didn't hear 'new tech'? First demo at the expo."
His rage point didn't click, but whatever.
"I'm a patient. My back hurts from all the smacks—gonna need ortho. What was it, Woojoo hyung? Back ortho?"
"Orthopedics."
"Yeah, orthopedics."
"Orthopedics my ass. Sir, teach me that back-smack move. Need it now."
I relayed my chat with Seok-hwan hyung to the bickering pair.
Ji-ho looked relieved no real scolding, Ri-hyeok griped the kid needed it for carelessness.
But they shared one reaction.
"Seok-hwan hyung's on a date with his girlfriend."
"Girlfriend? Real one?"
"Yeah, I asked."
"What'd he say?"
"Said he'd tell the PT trainer to go hard on us."
Deep resentment crossed my dongsaengs' faces.
I ignored it and pointed to the cafe on the hospital's first floor.
"Let's grab something there."
"Yeah. This punk's got my stomach in knots—need a drink."
"...I'll pay."
As I approached to help Ji-ho up, he shook his head.
"I'll take Ri-hyeok hyung."
"Why?"
"You're too big. Smaller guy's easier."
Ri-hyeok's face cracked.
* * *
Only after offering the cafe's priciest slice did Ri-hyeok thaw a bit.
"So, nothing happened hanging with that ajusshi? No one recognize you?"
"Nope. Not one. Even brought a pen for autographs."
I chimed in beside the pouting maknae.
"Kid did celebrity cosplay—sunglasses and all."
"Sunglasses? What a showoff."
"You packed yours this morning."
"...Eye protection."
We chatted idly like that.
Ri-hyeok seemed to mellow, and when Ji-ho handed over the clothes as a gift, he fully defrosted.
As Ri-hyeok smirked taking the bag—
"Huh? Isn't that Jung-hyun hyung and Bi-ju hyung?"
I blinked at the maknae's words.
What?
"Music Cafe rerun or something? No TV here."
"No, Jung-hyun hyung and Bi-ju hyung—right there."
"What're you—"
I turned... and freaked.
Bi-ju and Jung-hyun stood way off. Talking, then Bi-ju headed elsewhere.
Jung-hyun walked on.
"You call 'em?"
"Hell no. I'd never call Bi-ju hyung. Just lectures."
Come to think, Jung-hyun hadn't spotted us. I was about to say don't acknowledge when—
Ji-ho popped up, beaming and waving.
"Jung-hyun hyung!"
The leisurely lion-like stride halted. His head turned our way.
For 3 seconds.
Then a startled face.
* * *
"A U.S. football coach said it. Whether sports team or office workers, no trust means trouble. And Ralph Waldo Emerson said distrust costs dearly."
"..."
"Said you were playing basketball with Bi-ju hyung. Now basketball's in hospitals?"
Jung-hyun went mute at Ri-hyeok's airtight logic, then eyed me pleadingly.
Why do they always give me that look?
"Jung-hyun might have reasons."
"So what's the reason?"
Jung-hyun gulped under Ri-hyeok's icy glare.
Memories of first meeting the members flashed.
Jung-hyun back then: total charismatic big bro vibe.
Handsome athlete look.
But turns out, no one's milder.
Most muscle guys flaunt strength—even in play—but I'd never seen him use it on us.
Though if he did, we'd be goners.
"Jung-hyun hyung, we've known each other since trainee days—over three years. Enough time to build trust."
"Ri-hyeok, there's circumstances."
"So what are they?"
Ri-hyeok glanced at me and Ji-ho.
"Lately, weird stuff piling up—we let it slide. Bi-ju hyung spaces out daily. Burned breakfast recently. When things get this off, don't we deserve to know?"
Jung-hyun pondered, then looked to me.
"What do you think, hyung?"
"Kinda awkward. I get not spilling personal stuff, but we saw you. Can't just pretend."
Pretending at the dorm now would be weird too.
Jung-hyun stared at the table, sighed.
"Ah, Bi-ju won't like Kim Bi-ju knowing we know..."
Ri-hyeok and I perked ears.
Ji-ho gawked between hyungs, slurping frappuccino.
"Bi-ju's dongsaeng's hospitalized. Came to visit."
"Dongsaeng?"
Inner conflict crossed Jung-hyun's face again.
Finally, heavy words.
"His dongsaeng has cancer."
Ji-ho spat out his frappuccino.