The middle of the night should have been quiet with everyone in their beds dreaming of dancing sugar plums or some other such nonsense.  Instead, the Tohoshinki hideout was in a state of turmoil.  While Yunho and Changmin slept in relative peace in their room, Junsu and JaeJoong were awoken by the strange babblings of an extremely agitated Yoochun.  Neither one had ever had ever seen the man in this state before, and both were quite shocked by the situation.

It wasn’t until the lights were that both boys discovered their roommate was actually still asleep, albeit tossing and turning and talking as if he were wide awake.   Yoochun appeared to be in the throes of a physically uncomfortable, bad dream.  JaeJoong became edgy as he wanted to understand what Yoochun was saying.  Unfortunately the babbling wasn’t in Korean, Japanese or even English.

“It sounds like backwards English,” Junsu offered.

“Like you would know what backwards English sounded like,” JaeJoong scolded.  He leaned down over Yoochun, who suddenly threw off his blankets in an attempt to avoid being suffocated.  Waves of heat emanated from his body as if he was on fire.

Junsu jumped back while JaeJoong dared to reach out and feel the sleeping man’s forehead.  Although it wasn’t as hot as he expected, he still instructed Junsu to fetch a cold towel from the bathroom.

Changmin was awakened by the footsteps in the hall followed by the running water.  He pushed himself out of bed, hoping not to disturb Yunho.  Once out the door he found himself practically knocked over by Junsu.

“Gwenchana?”  He scratched his head, yawning.

“Aniyo,” Junsu rushed passed him and into the bedroom.

Changmin followed behind apprehensively, stopping in the doorway as JaeJoong tried to calm the restless Yoochun while Junsu placed the small towel on his forehead.  Changmin could have sworn he saw steam rising off Yoochun’s body.  He rubbed his eyes to clear his vision before looking again.

JaeJoong approached the maknae reassuringly.  “It’s nothing, just a bad dream.  Go back to bed.”

As Changmin headed back to his sleeping quarters, he shivered.  The temperature in the hall was at least twenty degrees cooler than in the room he had just left.

Yunho was normally a heavy sleeper…yet having someone nose-to-nose in your face made it difficult to stay asleep.  His eyes sprang open only to find Changmin exhaling into his mouth as he inhaled.

“Aish,” Yunho rolled away before sitting up. 

“Hyung, something’s wrong.”  Changmin got off his knees and plopped himself on the bed next to Yunho.

The leader rolled his eyes.

“No, seriously.  There was smoke coming off Chun’s body and the room was at least twenty degrees hotter than anywhere else in the house.”

“Aigoo, you’re delirious.  You must have had a bad dream.  Go lay down, I’ll bring you some warm milk.”

Changmin bit his lower lip and reluctantly crawled into his own bed.

Yunho stopped by the other bedroom, listening at the door for a sign that someone was awake.

A small light clicked on and JaeJoong opened the door.  “Gwenchana?”

“Ne, Changmin had a dream that Yoochun was spontaneously combusting.”  Yunho looked beyond JaeJoong toward the sleeping figure of Yoochun.

JaeJoong smiled nervously.

“Rest well,” Yunho offered before getting Changmin his milk.

While the milk warmed in the pan, Yunho couldn’t help but agree that the other bedroom did feel much warmer than his own.  He didn’t want the three to be uncomfortable and decided that tomorrow he would investigate and fix any potential problems.

Breakfast greeted the boys as if it magically appeared on the table before anyone of them made it to the kitchen.  Four of them sat around the table ready to eat.

“Where did this come from?”  JaeJoong had been prepared to cook until he saw the food already made.

“Obviously someone made it,” Yunho said unfazed by the food’s presence.  “Where’s Yoochun?”

“Still sleeping,” Junsu chimed in.

“Old habits die hard,” Yunho muttered.

“I’ll go wake him.”  Jae wanted to talk with Yoochun privately anyway.

Waking Yoochun was never fun, and this morning it wasn’t easy, either.  There was neither a response to JaeJoong calling out his name, nor to that of a gentle shoulder shake.  He thought Yoochun was just teasing him, so he shook him much harder.  The man did not react.  Jae stripped away the covers and called his name louder.

“Yah, Park Yoochun, stop goofing around!”

Yet the prone figure lying on the bed appeared for all intents and purposes:  dead.  JaeJoong went into panic mode checking to make sure Yoochun was still breathing and had a pulse.

By the time Yunho and the others arrived at the doorway, JaeJoong was slapping Yoochun’s cheeks as he cried, begging his friend to wake up.  Yunho felt then heard the cell phone he carried at his waist sound off.

“Yeoboseyo,” his response was automatic, his eyes never leaving the sight before him.  “Ne.”  He deactivated the phone, placing it back on his hip.

“An ambulance is coming for him.”

“Why do you have a phone?”  Junsu was suspicious.

“Not now.”  He wanted to tell s that he had been given the phone in case of an emergency, although he hoped never to have to use it.    “Let’s get out of the way.”

He ushered Changmin and Junsu to the living room as the ambulance pulled up.  Following it was a black sedan.  One of the manager hyungnims raced into the house before the paramedics could get up the walkway.  Yunho knew that Yoochun would have to go to the hospital by himself.  He looked at the two youngest members sadly.  “Stay here and be quiet.”  He had to go hold back JaeJoong from starting a fight.

With the meal forgotten and spirits low, the four men sat in the living room waiting.  Of them, Yunho was the one thinking of a plan.  The last thing he wanted to do was exclude Yoochun from activities, but he might just have to motivate the team to function one man down until Micky returned.  The only problem was if he couldn’t return, then their rehearsing will have been pretty much useless as Chun’s vocals would be reassigned and the choreography changed.  Yunho hoped to hear something about Yoochun’s status sooner rather than later.

“We should try to eat something,” Yunho decided for the group.  “None of us can afford to get sick.”

JaeJoong furrowed his brow and stood to challenge the leader.

Yunho schooled his face to reveal no emotion.  “I think we should spend some time reflecting on what’s happening.”  He locked eyes with JaeJoong, staring him down for a few moments before adding: “If any of you have anything to say, write it down.”

Yes, it was a bizarre request accompanied by an expression that made Yunho’s face look like it expanded to three times its normal size.  JaeJoong jumped back, unsure if the leader was coming unhinged.

“Yah, you want to die!?!”  Yunho’s Jeolla-do satoori echoed off the walls as he glared at each of them.

Once again at the breakfast table, the remaining members of Tohoshinki picked at their food, three of whom continuously watched their leader with piercing eyes.

Yunho had to keep himself from smiling smugly.  Strangely it was endearing to him to have the members disagreeing with his leadership while at the same time following it.

Changmin watched Yunho carefully.  There was no malice in the older man’s posture.  But why was he behaving so strangely?  “Yunho, hyung—“

“—The walls have ears and eyes,” Yunho mumbled, not looking at anyone in particular.

Changmin hung his head apologetically.  This wasn’t the first time they had been monitored in the living quarters.  “Mianhe, hyung.”

Yunho reached across the table placing his hand comfortingly over the maknae’s.  There was an unspoken conversation in that small gesture.

“I’ll be leaving first,” Changmin departed for the solace of his bedroom.

“Help me do the dishes,” Yunho commanded of JaeJoong.  “Junsu should check on Changmin.”

It wasn’t until the faucet was running full force and dishes were clanking that Yunho felt it safe enough to say something to the oldest member.

“We’re under surveillance.  Talk business only.  Written notes for other things.”  The years spent alone with Changmin had given Yunho a new habit.  He was angrily scrubbing a plate.