Chapter 11: Jihoon's Dilemma

The air in the practice room was thick, not with the usual scent of sweat and ambition, but with a suffocating tension. Jihoon, ever the mediator, watched the members scatter like startled birds after a particularly sharp remark from Shinyu, aimed, as always, at Hanjin. It wasn't outright aggression, not yet, but the undercurrent of strained civility was fraying, thread by thread.

“He just… he doesn’t understand,” Shinyu muttered, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. His eyes, usually so steady, flickered with a restless energy that Jihoon hadn't seen before. He was talking about Hanjin, of course. Hanjin, who sat by the wall, a serene, almost detached smile on his lips, as if the storm brewing around him was merely a passing cloud.

Dohoon scoffed, leaning against a speaker, arms crossed. “Oh, he understands perfectly. He just doesn’t care.” The venom in Dohoon’s voice was a familiar sting. It had been there since Shinyu’s confession, growing with each passing day, each perceived slight, each whispered rumor.