Jiho wakes early the next day. The morning sun is still soft about the edges, buttery and golden. He's tangled in his covers on the sofa where he's been staying the past few days: sweating, his pulse pummelling at his joints, and when he prises his eyes apart he could swear he catches the receding back of a giant figure disappearing through the doorway. He presses his eyes shut hard for a few seconds and when he opens them again there's nothing there but the yellow hazy spots floating in his vision. A nightmare, he tells himself, and heaves himself upright to wait for his heart to slow. There had been an endless corridor, with an arched doorway at one end and himself standing alone in the middle of it while people - friends, family - passed alongside him with black unresponsive faces, not a single flicker of recognition. He had wanted to scream but the hush blanketed everything, choked him, filled his mouth and ears like tar until he could feel it forcing every coherent thought out of his mind. Wiping damp, still shaking hands on the sheets Jiho gets up from the sofa and goes for a glass of water. He can still taste that silence at the back of his throat.

The kitchen is normally deserted at this time of morning, unless Minhyuk's had one of his bouts of sleeplessness and is in his dressing gown yawning over a cup of tea - but today it isn't, and Jiho's heart jumps into a gallop again as he takes in the scene: Jihoon and Kyung, dressed and quietly eating breakfast while Kim sits opposite reading a newspaper. His posture is so casual - lounging back in the chair, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles - that the two of them look twice as stiff in comparison. It isn't only the straight backs and unmoving expressions, however, that throw an ice cold covering around Jiho's shoulders. It's their silence: not one punctuated by nervous glances and sullen lips, but a simple, deadly hush, as if neither have anything to say nor ever expect to. It's the unflickering focus of their eyes. It's the total lack of recognition as he enters.

Jiho stands still for a moment, trying to catch a breath which has suddenly deserted him. No one even looks in his directions. Finally he wrenches his lungs open and fills them, and says, "Good morning," already despising the weakness in his voice.

"Good morning," Kim says, without turning around. Jiho can feel the satisfaction rolling off him in waves but he pushes his loathing to the back of his mind for the present.

"Good morning," Kyung and Jihoon follow, almost at the same time, and Jihoon bows his head solemnly over his bowl of cereal, tacking a respectful, "hyung" onto the end of his sentence. Jiho feels bile rise in his throat as his stomach turns over, as they both watch him with polite confusion, as his mouth falls open and works emptily. He snatches at the door handle, the floor shifting under him.

It's his nightmare - it must be - and without thinking he stumbles out and slams the door on the churring laughter that begins to echo from within. Still dreaming, he tells himself desperately, and down deep breaths, the hallway swimming in front of him.

"Jesus , Ji, what's the matter?" Jiho screws up his eyes until he can blink away the dampness and stares up into the gloom of the stairwell, where Taeil is frozen in the act of pulling on a jacket. He looks horrified - Jiho doesn't realise how disturbed he looks: face ashen and sweaty, hair standing on end, hands tightening at his sides. Before Taeil can descend the rest of the way he leaps up to where he's standing and hustles the singer back to his room, stubbing a toe on a step as he does so. The pain shocks him out of his shock, and reality - bare sunlight, gritty floorboards under his feet, and his own thundering heart - hits him like a freight train. He drops down on the nearest bed and hangs his head low while Taeil rubs slow circles on his back and tells him to breathe.

Finally he looks up, meets Taeil's anxious eyes helplessly, and a grim understanding quickly sets on the elder's face. "Jihoonie and Kyung," he says. Jiho nods once, in harsh breaths. "What's happened?"

"Downstairs," Jiho croaks, and has to pause while he gulps down a glass of water Taeil has on his nightstand. "Downstairs already," he gasps when he's done. "Totally quiet, they - they didn't even - it was like they didn't - hyung, I - " He stutters to a halt, unable to explain; only then do his eyes follow Taeil's line of vision to the bed they're both sitting on. It's Kyung's bed, and it's made, painstakingly neatly. Jiho didn't think Kyung even knew how to make a bed. Across from them his clothes from the day before are carefully hung up on the wardrobe door, although everything else he owns is still scattered about the floor in heaps. And Jiho is endlessly grateful for Taeil because anyone else would brush aside the panic he feels on finding that their friend had become inexplicably tidy and quiet overnight, but Taeil, he looks down at the winged sneakers placed side by side at the foot of the bed and pales.

"What's happening to everyone?" Jiho says in a hoarse whisper. Taeil lets out a long shaky breath, tightening his grip on Jiho's shoulder.

"I don't know. But we'll fix it. I swear to whatever god is up there." Jiho lays his hand on his chest and prays as hard as his weakening heart will let him.

Taeil gets even paler when he makes it downstairs, having spent nearly half an hour repeating empty phrases of consolation to Jiho: it's alright, we'll figure this out, it can't be that bad. The sick realisation dawning on his face is visible as soon as Kim checks his watch and gets to his feet and both Jihoon and Kyung follow instantly. Their heads are ducked down as they pass him, as humble as he is righteous, and they wait by the front door with their hands at their sides. Jiho stares into his best friend's face, willing him to turn and look at him, but he doesn't, just gazes abstractedly at the opposite wall. The air is as crisp and still as the inside of a freezer.

"Late again," Kim says, raising an eyebrow at Jiho and Taeil, still frozen on the last couple of steps. "This really isn't good enough. Get yourselves together - and where's Yukwon?" Jiho can see Jaehyo and Minhyuk in the kitchen slurping down the last of their coffees, but Yukwon slipped out late last night to visit his girlfriend, the tension in the house too much for him to handle, and they don't know if he came home.

"I'll get him," Taeil says, and hurries back up the stairs, his shoulders hunched over in a way that Jiho knows only too well.

"It's one thing to keep me waiting," Kim says, "but it's very unfair to make your other members wait. We'll go on ahead; meet us at the studio. If you're there any later than half past, there will be consequences." As he pulls the door open Jiho jolts forward, desperate to say something - anything - and makes a motion towards Kyung. He can't think what he's going to do - grab his arm, shake him, slap him, anything to blow away that vague unresponsiveness that is so not-Kyung that it physically hurts to see it, but before he can get close enough Kyung's disappeared behind their manager and the door has slammed shut again. Jiho drops down on the last step, gritting his teeth and forcing back tears.

"Something's not right," Jaehyo says, pale and trembling in the doorway. It's such an understatement that Jiho has an insane urge to laugh. "What happened to them yesterday?"

"Kwonnie's not here," Taeil breaks in, a little breathless; he has his phone in one hand, already dialling. Without realising it Jiho's shaking his head, cursing Kwon for having taken the risk. The threat that was, up until yesterday, only a nebulous menace, is now taking on a twisted and ugly corporeal form, and Jiho wants nothing more than to gather his friends into himself and shield them from everything. But he can't, and that knowledge, and the memory of Kyung and Jihoon's absent and ghostly eyes, opens a yawning void right before him.

He's still on the edge of that hole when they reach the studio, after a painful journey where Jaehyo fretted ceaselessly in tiny whimpering half-sentences and Minhyuk buried himself in the hood of his coat, his face more drawn in and bleak than anyone's ever seen it. Thankfully Yukwon's made it there before them; Jiho knows this as soon as he receives a text from him saying simply, what the is going on? The three of them are already hard at work when Jiho leads the remaining members in, and the switch in their normal behaviour is truly terrifying to see: Jihoon and Kyung are unnervingly focused, barely missing a step, as if they don't need to breathe or rest, while Yukwon is so distracted by the change in them that he can hardly keep on rhythm and his usually fluid movements are fumbling and awkward.

"You'd be able to focus better if you hadn't been up half the night," Kim spits at Yukwon as they enter, and the dancer flushes, already on the verge of tears. Jiho wrestles back the retort that springs to his lips and they dump their bags down and join the practise; by tacit agreement they ignore their manager entirely.

It's impossible to talk while they're practising, and while Kim has his gimlet eyes trained on them, and lunch is conducted in a similar silence - even quieter now that Jihoon's hands aren't shaking and he cuts and eats his meal with a poise he has never possessed. Sandwiched between Taeil and Minhyuk, Jiho manages to work one hand into his pocket and under the table taps out a message, sending it to the number at the top of his contacts list: what happened to you yesterday? Kyung twitches a little as his phone buzzes against his leg but he continues to eat serenely. Across the table Yukwon is ducking his head, trying to catch his eyes, to no avail, and he hurriedly looks away when Kim flashes him a glare. The tension builds up like a towering wall, ready to split down the middle at the first loss of control.

As usual they have a few minutes' respite while Kim makes some phone calls outside the studio. Without caring if he can see them Jiho grabs Kyung's arm as soon as they close the door and drags him to the opposite wall; Kyung just follows, unprotesting, and turns wide, baffled eyes on his friend. Behind him, Jaehyo is herding Jihoon over as well.

"What's going on?" Jiho demands. "What happened yesterday, what the hell did they do to you?"

"What do you mean?" Kyung says innocently; his voice is just like normal but he speaks as if Jiho were a stranger. Jiho's own tone becomes low and rushed, the only option available to him other than screaming.

"Why are you acting like this?"

"I really don't know what you mean, Jiho." He isn't lying - Jiho can see in his clear bright face that he's not lying, and his stomach goes cold and hard with fear.

"What happened when you went off with Kim?"

"We had a talk with some people at the label," Kyung says simply. "We agreed to work harder. We only want to be better performers."

"We don't want to let you down any more, Jiho-hyung," Jihoon says, and gives him a short little bow that makes Jiho want to punch him and pull him into his chest at the same time.

"They've done something - they did something to you," Yukwon breaks in, his voice quivering at the edges. "It's the same as what happened to Mino - it's - you're different, can't you see?"

"Why aren't you talking to us? Why are you suddenly up early and doing what he tells you to?" Taeil adds. He takes Jihoon's arm and shakes it, as if he's trying to make the maknae start manhandling him with affectionate touches and draping hugs, like he usually would.

"We just want to do better, Taeil-hyung," Jihoon repeats, with Kyung nodding by his side. Jaehyo claps his hand over his mouth and turns away abruptly as if he's going to be sick.

"Quite right too." A new, strident voice floats across the room, and Jiho watches with burning hatred as Kim strolls across to them, tucking his phone away. He puts a hand on each of their shoulders, smirking at Jiho in total triumph. "If your friends have changed their attitudes for the better, shouldn't you be applauding them? A similar change in the rest of you wouldn't go amiss."

"Don't touch them," Jiho spits. Kim's eyes go hard and tight, a touch of a sneer landing about his mouth.

"I think I can effect a similar change over the next few weeks. We'll see."

The rest of the morning and afternoon pass in a distressing, unreal haze, full of silences that stretch on too long and Yukwon muffling hiccupy tears in his hands. Jiho has never felt so utterly, utterly helpless before. All he can think to do is run - gather his band together and run somewhere, to his mother's or brother's, somewhere safe where he can try to snap Kyung and Jihoon out of this horrific blankness, but it's impossible. He knows Kim will be watching the rest of them more closely than ever from now on, and besides, they have a fan meeting scheduled for the evening, and a concert the next day: there's no time to plan. This is the only thing he can think to suggest when he receives four text messages, all variations on the same theme: what are we going to do?

i can't stand it, Yukwon writes, im going to stay with tama. im sorry but im scared.

don't you dare, Jiho replies, flashing an angry glare over at him as he does so; Yukwon dips his head again in shame. we need to stick together.

that only makes it easier for them, comes from Minhyuk, and it's strange how 'Them', in all of their minds, already has a capital letter. we should go to our families.

Jaehyo raises his eyebrows at Minhyuk in alarm, receiving nothing more back than a dark look which he quails under. what about jihoonie and kyung? he texts, we cant leave them like this!

do you know how to fix it?

don't forget we're still under contract, comes from Taeil, if we try to just abandon the band and run off they can sue us.

so we need to figure out how to fix it, Jiho sends; his mind had already been made up on that point. The band, their careers, their fans - all of that is all very well, but it won't mean anything if his best friend has become a silent ghost who treats him like a stranger.

we dont even know what the problem is, he receives, and a second later from another number, how can we fix it when we dont know whats wrong!! Jiho looks over to Jihoon and Kyung, sitting with their hands flat on the table: unmoving, serene, absolutely not-there. No matter how many times he sees it, the sight still tears at him agonisingly.

"I am sick to death of you all fiddling with those infernal gadgets," Kim suddenly barks out, and all of them snap their heads upright, reflexively stuffing their phones back into pockets and trying to assume innocence. "What can possibly be so important that you can't ignore it for half an hour while we go through the schedule?" You know damn well what, Jiho thinks, but he maintains his look of dumb ignorance. Kim stares round at them for a moment more, eyebrow quirked, clearly expecting some kind of answer but since none is forthcoming he shakes his head instead, setting his lips in a grimace. Reaching under the table, he pulls out a black plastic bag, shakes out the few items inside - a couple of pens, a packet of aspirin and, Jiho is surprised to see, a small silver packet of cigarette papers - and offers it across the table. "All phones in here, please. You can have them back when we're home."

There are various noises of surprised outrage which can't quite be choked back from around the table; Jihoon and Kyung, of course, instantly produce their phones and obediently drop them in the bag. Jiho averts his eyes from the sight, but he can't think of an escape route, so he follows suit, begrudgingly, with Taeil and Jaehyo following him. Minhyuk takes a few more moments, fiddling with the screen to make sure it's securely locked, but gives it up eventually with eyes so ferociously dark that they burn in his pallid face. Then Kim turns to Yukwon, and even as Jiho is crossing his fingers under the table Yukwon pushes his mouth out in a round, scared pout and clutches his phone to his chest.

"No, I - I can't, I'm expecting a call - "

"From this girlfriend," Kim cuts over him, contempt in every syllable. "Don't be ridiculous. You shouldn't be wasting your time on her in the first place."

Kwon prickles, draws back from the older man and the fear disappears out of his face, replaced by seething hatred. "Don't you dare talk about Tama like that," he hisses. Relationships are a wonderful thing, Jiho muses, because even with Kim now looming over him with his eyebrows drawn into that ferocious grimace, Yukwon doesn't flinch, just bares his teeth and looks ready to scratch the other man's eyes out.

"Give me your phone. Now. And think yourself lucky I'm not banning you from seeing her full stop."

"No," Kwon spits back defiantly, not breaking eye contact for a second. Half of Jiho wants to cheer for him; the other half wants to bury his face in his hands, but it's already too late. Kim draws himself back upright and once again that nauseating look of satisfaction slides over his face by degrees.

"Fine. Then we'll talk about this later."

"Fine." It's as if Yukwon doesn't quite understand, through his anger, what he's just dropped himself into, and only when they get to the end of the day, and they're about to climb into the car, and a heavy hand descends on his shoulder and pulls him back from the others, does his face turn pale.

"This won't take long. Just a short talk should suffice, I think." Kim is relaxed, too casual for any of them to be comfortable, and Yukwon stumbles back, pulling in a shaky gasp.

"No, I - I'm sorry, I -"

"I'm coming too." From behind their manager, Minhyuk steps forward, still shrouded in the hood of his coat; Jiho can barely see his face but he knows it will be set, impassive. Briefly, over Yukwon's trembling shoulder, he meets Jiho's questioning expression and gives him a short, firm nod. Kim shrugs, gesturing to the other car standing ready.

"Alright. It would save me the trouble." He stalks off, and Minhyuk curls his arm around the other dancer.

"It's gonna be okay, Kwonnie," he says, and ducks his head into the car. The sudden fierceness in his rushed voice takes Jiho by surprise. "I'm going to figure out what's going on. I'll tell you everything when we get back." Beside him Yukwon lets out a terrified whimper, and Minhyuk shakes him gently and leads him away, muttering something under his breath as Yukwon's fingers clutch at his own hair in panic.

Jiho sits back in his seat, slides the door closed and holds his breath as he watches the other car pull away, their own following shortly only to turn off onto a different road a few seconds later. His heart is bumping against his ribs, and he feels for his phone before remembering he doesn't have it. The silence in the vehicle as they make their way home isn't just coming from Kyung and Jihoon. No one has anything to say: whatever's happening to their other friends doesn't bear thinking about, even if they had any idea of what might be going on. Jiho looks across to Kyung's profile in the next seat along: eyes wide and steady, back straight, head upright. He reaches his hand across and puts it on his knee, presses gently, but as soon as he's met with that unblinking, unknowing gaze he withdraws his hand and turns away, furiously wiping away the tear that escapes down his cheek.