When Taerim woke up, it was dark in the room and for several seconds she didn't know where she was. The dark pressed on her eyeballs and she felt constricting with terror – she was in prison again, and the bars were closing in, pressing on her neck and shoulders and keeping her from moving or speaking or screaming for help.

She tried to breathe, tried to yell, anything, but all she could do was wheeze, unable to get a full breath. She was so terrified that she couldn't speak, and her whole body was so stiff and painful that she could hardly move an inch.

And then Minho was there. In the gloom, his face was hard to see, but it was definitely him. He leaned over her, eyebrows drawn together, and felt her forehead.

“How do you feel?” he said, his voice low, worried.

“It hurts,” she whimpered, screwing her eyes shut to stave off a wave of pain from her bruised muscles and bones.

“Medicine?”

She nodded, just that movement alone sending stabbing pain through her neck and shoulders.

Minho left and came back quickly, a cup of water in one hand and more pills in the other. “Up,” he said. “Sitting up. Sorry.”

He was trying to only speak in English for her. He slid his arm behind her neck to help her sit up. Every muscle in her body screamed in protest.

“A-ah, it hurts!” she couldn't help whimpering.

“I know,” Minho said. “Here.” He gave her the pills first, then the water, so she didn't have to use her left hand. She made to lie down again when she had taken them, but Minho stopped her.

“Wait,” he said. “Hard muscles hurting. Need this.” He made a squeezing motion with his hands.

He started at the top of her neck, massaging some of the stiffness out of her muscles as he moved downward. Instead of massaging her shoulders the normal way, he avoided touching the raw skin of her back by rolling his clenched fists along her shoulders.

Even though Minho had probably done this hundreds of times before for his teammates, the way he knew exactly how to ease her soreness without causing her unbearable pain was the last straw of kindness for Taerim. She didn't mean to cry, but the tears came anyway, rolling down her cheeks and dropping uselessly on her lap.

For a few minutes, Minho was too busy to notice. But then she heard a surprised “oh,” and his hands left her bruised rib. “Hurt?” he asked.

She shook her head even though it hurt to. “아니요,” she said through her tears. “좋아요.”

For the space of a few heartbeats, nothing happened. Minho wasn't touching her any more. He must have been startled by her crying, but now that it had started, she couldn't stop it. He must think she was nothing now, weaker than a child.

But after the room had become even darker with the tears blurring her vision, Minho's arms encircled her softly, and she felt him pressed gently against her back as he hugged her.

“I'm sorry,” he said quietly, so close to her ear that she felt his breath like a feather on her cheek. “For everything.”

Just that simple gesture made her tears run faster. She battled to catch her breath.

“숨,” he said. “Big.”

She took deep, hitching breaths, finally getting her sobs under control.

For a few minutes, the room was quiet except for the muted sound of her breathing, empty except for the girl resting her head on the shoulder of the boy behind her.

Outside the door, Jongin crept away without a sound.