Hwang Hyunjin: Invisible

A Hyunjin Ff requested by: @kenziesberries (Hopefully I understood your request enough <3)

~ Hwang Hyunjin ~

"Stage Three Leukemia." My ears rang as the white walls of the hospital room closed in around me. The doctor was still talking—something about treatment plans, options, timelines—but I couldn't focus. My mind was stuck, looping over those words.

Stage. Three.Leukemia.

I sat there frozen, my hands gripping the edge of the chair so tightly my knuckles turned white. My first thought wasn't about myself, though—it was about them. The members. My family.

They'd already been through so much. We'd been through so much together. How could I add this to their burdens? How could I look them in the eye and tell them I was... sick? That I wasn't going to be able to keep up with them, that I might not even...

No. I couldn't tell them.

I couldn't let them see me like this, couldn't let them worry or treat me differently. I didn't want to be the sick person. I didn't want to deal with the pitying looks, the hushed conversations, the constant hovering. I didn't want to be their burden.

So I made a decision right there, sitting in that cold hospital room with my heart racing and my world crumbling around me. I wasn't going to tell them. I wasn't going to get treatment. No staff would ever find out. I was going to ignore it. It's wasn't true. I didn't have cancer.

But that was easier said than done.

—

The first sign that things were falling apart came during practice.

"Hyunjin, are you even listening?" Chan's voice cut through the music as I stumbled through the choreography for what felt like the hundredth time. I had already been pretty shitty to Chan early that day anyways, so he had every right to be upset with me.

"I'm fine," I muttered, brushing him off as I reset to the starting position.

"You're not fine," he shot back, frustration lacing his words. "You've been zoning out all day. Focus."

"I said I'm fine!" I snapped, louder than I intended. The room fell silent, all eyes on me. Shit.

"Hyunjin," Chan said after a long pause, his voice cold. "Take five. Everyone else, let's go from the top."

I stormed out of the practice room, my chest tightening. The truth was, I felt like I could collapse any second, but admitting that wasn't an option. So after five minutes I walked back into that practice room and blended in with the rest of the members, trying my hardest to keep up.

"Hyung, can you help me with this?" Jeongin asked as we worked on our individual choreography.

"Do it yourself," I muttered, not even glancing up from my water bottle. I don't know why I said it like that, but I didn't really care.

Jeongin blinked, startled. "I was just asking—"

"What's your problem, Hyunjin?" Minho's voice broke through.

"I don't have a problem," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Yes, you do," Minho snapped. "You've been acting like an asshole to Chan and the rest of us all day. Snapping at everyone, walking out of practice, isolating yourself—what is wrong with you?"

"Nothing is wrong." I said sternly.

Minho just scoffed.

—

I kept wondering... if I had just never showed up to that appointment... never got diagnosed... would I have felt the way I did? Would my body start to break down the way it was?

It's felt like when you have a cut on your body,one you didn't even realize was there, but now that you've found it, you feel the pain.

—

My mood only worsened over the next few weeks. The fatigue was unrelenting, the pain in my body growing harder to ignore. I couldn't keep up during practice, and my patience wore thin with every passing day, and the members just started getting more and more irritated with me.

The members stopped trying to reach out. Conversations became shorter, interactions more formal. They started planning things without me—movie nights, late-night snacks, even some practice routines. It was like I wasn't there anymore.

And it hurt.

I told myself it was what I wanted. I had pushed them away on purpose, hadn't I? But the empty spaces they left behind felt heavier than anything else.

I spent more and more time in my room, avoiding them whenever possible. My health continued to deteriorate, the fatigue and pain becoming impossible to ignore. But I still didn't tell anyone.

And then practice came again.

We were running through the choreography, Chan's voice cutting through the music as he called out directions. I was lagging behind, struggling to keep up with the others.

"Hyunjin, come on!" Chan yelled.

"I'm trying," I muttered, my vision blurring as sweat dripped into my eyes.

"Try harder," Minho snapped, not bothering to hide his frustration.

"Maybe if you cared about the team as much as you care about yourself, we wouldn't be stuck here for hours every day," Seungmin added, his voice unusually sharp.

That one stung.

I stumbled through the next step, my legs trembling beneath me. My chest felt tight, and every breath was a struggle. The worst part is, is that I only really felt sick around the members.

"Hyunjin, you're off again!" Chan shouted.

"Just stop!" I yelled, my voice cracking.

The music cut off abruptly, the silence in the room deafening.

"What's your problem?" Minho demanded, stepping toward me. "If you're not going to put in the effort, why are you even here?"

"I don't know!" I shouted back, my vision swimming.

Before anyone could respond, my legs gave out completely, and I crumpled to the floor.

I don't know how long I stayed there, crumpled on the floor, my body feeling like it was being torn apart. The last thing I remember was the cold floor pressing against my cheek, and then... nothing.

Did I die? Would they even care if I did?

—

When I woke up, I wasn't sure if I was dead or just in some kind of hell. The first thing I noticed was the soft beeping of machines around me. Crap. My hand instinctively reached for my chest, but something tugged at my arm. I looked down to see an IV drip and several wires connected to my body. The realization hit me slowly. I wasn't dead. I was alive, but barely.

And then, like a punch to the gut, I remembered why I was here.

I took a look around, and the room was empty.  I tried to sit up, but my body protested. Weak. Fragile. Sick. I hated it.

I glanced around the room again, hoping for... something. Someone. A sign that I wasn't completely alone. But all I saw was the bland, beige walls and machines monitoring my vitals.

Of course they weren't here. Why would they be? After everything I'd done—pushing them away, lashing out, shutting them out—why would they care enough to sit by my side now?

I sank back into the pillows. Maybe it was better this way. If they weren't here, they wouldn't have to see me like this.

I closed my eyes, trying to block it all out. But then I heard it—the sound of the door opening.

"Hyunjin?" That voice. Soft, hesitant, but unmistakably deep. My eyes flew open, and there he was. Felix. His face was pale, his eyes rimmed red like he hadn't slept all night. "You're awake," he said, his voice trembling.

I opened my mouth to say something—anything—but no words came out. What could I even say?

I looked away, unable to meet his gaze. The weight of his concern was unbearable, suffocating.

"Why didn't you tell us?" he asked after a long pause, his voice cracking. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want you to know," I muttered, my voice barely audible. I stared at the blank wall across from me, unable to look at him. If I looked at him, I'd break. "I didn't want to be treated differently, seen as a sick person."

Felix sighed. "Hyunjin, do you even hear yourself? You didn't want us to treat you differently, but do you know how you've been treating us? You shut us out, pushed us away."

I just shook my head. They were treating me like shut. They didn't even think to check up on me and ask why I was even acting the way I was. "That's not true. You guys pushed me away, got mad at me for every little thing... left me out."

Felix's eyes softened, his expression full of pain. He stepped closer to the bed, his voice low and full of emotion. "Hyunjin, that's not how it was. We didn't know what to do." His hands trembled as he reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from my forehead. "We thought you were angry at us. That you didn't want us around anymore. But... Leukemia... really...?" I saw tears begin to well up in his eyes.

I turned my face away, trying to hide the tears that threatened to spill. I didn't want him to see me like this, to see me weak and fragile. "I'm sorry." I managed to mutter. I shook my head, my grip tightening around the sheets. "I didn't want to be a burden to you guys. You've all done so much for me already, and I didn't want to add to that. I couldn't stand the thought of you all treating me differently... or seeing me as someone to pity. Because truth is..." I sniffled. "I'm scared," I confessed, my voice barely a whisper. "I'm scared of what's going to happen, and I don't know if I can handle it." I closed my eyes.

Felix's hand paused on my forehead, his fingers still warm against my skin. "Chan... your parents... they're all doing everything they can to get you the treatment you need, as soon as possible." He swallowed hard. "None of us are going to let you go through this by yourself."

I opened my eyes, and this time, I allowed myself to meet his gaze. The tears that I had been fighting back spilled over, and I didn't care anymore. Felix didn't flinch. He only reached out and cupped my face in his hands, wiping away the tears with his thumbs.

I had been so terrified of being seen as weak, of becoming a burden to the people I loved, but Felix had never looked at me that way. And neither had the others.

"I'm sorry," I whispered again.

—