Jae just knows that getting a dog is the worst idea in the world, especially when he has allergies.

              First, their breath stinks. He can barely stand his own in the morning let alone something that doesn’t even brush its teeth. Second, they’re noisy. Jae’s lost count of all the times he’s had to wake up at 5:36 am sharp because a certain Pomeranian needed to take a . But last of all, it’s the fur. Jae’s sneezed himself awake countless times well into the night and woken with eyes watery enough for him to question if he was crying in his sleep. Don’t get him wrong though, he doesn’t hate dogs. Jae just prefers when they’re far away and not in his house.

              As the oldest of three sons, of course the responsibility would fall on his shoulders. He wouldn’t have minded so much had he a say in the breed or name because can we at least get something that I can’t accidentally step on and kill? When Jae’s youngest brother had declared that the new puppy’s name was Ninja, Jae had opened his mouth to point out that he was actually a she and nobody calls their dog Ninja anyway. His mother had shot him the “play along look-or else” look and any protest had caught and died in his throat. He still wanted his life, thank you very much.

              5:36 in the morning, Ninja drags Jae in his pajamas and his favorite gray sweater out down the street and onto a stretch of public grass. When she finally finds the perfect spot to take a dump, Jae’s still lost in his haze of sleep and rubbing at watery eyes when he hears a bright “good morning!” Shocked awake, Jae stares at Ninja who stares back with large innocent eyes.

              “Wow,” Jae’s almost excited, “I’ve always known that dogs could ta-“

              Someone behind him clears their throat.

              A short girl stands with two Golden Retrievers sitting calmly by her side, and Jae can’t decide if he wants to shield his eyes from how bright she’s smiling or cover his mouth because seeing more fur really makes him want to snee-

              “Not a morning person?” She says as her eyes goes to his nest of hair and eye bags and Jae’s sneeze dies. Jae isn’t capable of carrying a conversation this early in the morning, especially on Monday mornings. He blinks at her owlishly from behind the thick lenses of his glasses. Then Ninja snaps him out of it as she hurls forward, pulling on her leash and yapping at the calm Golden Retrievers.

              “Sorry,” he apologizes seemingly to both her and the neighbourhood and sheepishly scratches the back of his head, smiling meekly as he bends down to comfort the yipping dog. His eyes watering from the cold and allergies, Jae just prays that he can go home soon. The girl smiles and leans down, allowing Ninja to sniff her hand. Immediately, to Jae’s astonishment, the Pomeranian stops.

              “Dogs just need to know you’re not a threat,” she explains with a shrug in response to Jae’s impressed gaze.

              Just then, an autumn breeze brings the chill of winter and Jae curses at himself for wearing such a thin sweater. The girl holds out to him the blue woolen scarf she was wearing. “Take it. I live right there.” She points at two houses down. Jae opens his mouth to protest because he knows better than to take from a perfect stranger and it is his own fault for not dressing properly, but there’s a dark streak of hair buffeting in the wind as she’s already turning to leave with the two Golden Retrievers trailing after her.

              “You need it more than I do, Jaehyung.”

              Jae’s eyes follow her as she disappears, and as he wraps the scarf reluctantly around his neck, they seem to water just a little bit less.

---

Jae hates Monday mornings.

              He sneezes for the 37^th time that morning, wiping his watering eyes while glaring at the white hairs that stick to his shirt just as persistently as Wonpil does to Dowoon’s side when he’s heard that the latter had been confessed to. Jae’s too exhausted to comment.

              “You look like ,” Brian says in English as the four of them make their way down the school halls to meet Sungjin in the music room for practice. Jae just takes it as concern.

              “I feel like ,” Jae sniffles back in English and Brian narrows his eyes.

              “You are ,” Wonpil stops pestering Dowoon long enough to chortle. Jae eyes him wearily, regretting teaching him the little English Wonpil knew. Dowoon grows thoughtful.

              “You are the ,” Dowoon tries to join in. All three of them stare at the youngest boy. Even in his state, Jae manages to smirk victoriously at Wonpil.

              “This is why he’s my favourite,” Jae proclaims and Brian has to restrain Wonpil as he playfully lunges at the taller boy.

              Wonpil eventually goes back to pestering Dowoon after Brian makes it clear that he’s not letting Jae get anyone else sick even as Jae protests that it’s just allergies! Wonpil had playfully fallen backwards to seem disgusted. Keep your disease to yourself!

Their light bantering fills the quiet halls. It’s early enough that no one’s around and Jae’s grateful because he doesn’t think he can handle music, a migraine, and fangirling at the same time.

              “Jae, I really think you need to rest,” Brian steers Jae by the arm somewhere suspiciously not the music room, but not before sending Wonpil and Dowoon a knowing look over his shoulder. Jae barely notices through his feverish hysteria. It’s funny because, in the next few minutes of stumbling, Jae feels like a mix of jello and an oven, uncontrollable, hot, and heavy.

              “Where are we going?” Jae barely mumbles.

              “To the infirmary. Just lean on me,” Brian says softly, far softer than Jae’s used to hearing from his friend. Jae decides to take advantage of it (just because he’s sick and deserves to be pampered) and leans his entire weight onto an unsuspecting Brian’s shoulder. By then Jae’s brain is detached from his body.

              “You’re skinny but not light, you stupid sh*t!” Brian snaps as he frantically tries to hold him up. He fails because Jae’s lankly limbs flail in the air as his knees buckle out from under him and Brian has to avoid getting kneed in the balls. Just before Jae’s faceplants onto the floor (Brian thinks he deserves it) there’s a flash of dark hair as someone short, but sturdy hoists him up by his other arm.

              Jae startles in recognition.

              “Scarf girl?” He rasps hoarsely. She smiles at him from the side.

              “Yup, that’s me.”

              “I think I just fell for you,” Jae grins at his own cheesy pun, and Brian rolls his eyes because even when he’s sick, Jae’s still annoying as .

              Then Jae passes out.

              Yup, Jae definitely hates Monday mornings.