"Thank Kronos the weekend is finally here," you said, stretching your arms over your head, bending left and right as you walked, relieving the tension in your back. They had given you Thursday and Friday off to train and prepare so, even though it was only Wednesday, it was the weekend in your book.
The sports festival was just around the corner and everyone had ardently been preparing for it every day now for almost a month. It was a school tradition and a highly anticipated day where a lot of sports and events would take place, and all classes were cancelled. Each program would compete against each other for a department paid three days and two nights outing. The students who weren't participating in the activities would form organisation committees and cheering teams.
Because some departments were smaller than others or had less willing participants, the contemporary dance and architecture departments had wound up together, which allowed both Jimin and you to be on the same team. He would be participating in the archery event, while you had volunteered to do be part of the hurdles team. You had been on the track and field team during your high school years, but had decided joining the university team was too much to handle with your architecture projects. However, you were still active, going for a run twice a week, every weekend and whenever Jimin wanted to.
"I think we did a good job," Jimin replied, looking around as he packed his bag, making sure he hadn't forgotten anything on the field. You had just finished your individual practice after helping out your joint departments' decoration committee. They had decided last minute on making a cold drink and snack stand for people to cool off at, except they had to design, assemble and decorate it all in days left before the event. The group had been short on hands so the two of you had joined them for a few hours after class.
"One last lap and then we go?" You asked once you had both packed your bags. It was a quarter past seven pm but the sun was still up, an advantage of spring arriving.
"How about a race?" He asked, tying his shoe laces in anticipation.
"You're on," you replied, dropping your bag near his, walking up to crouch down beside him, on the right side of the soccer field.
"The first one to the goalpost wins," you said, pointing to the soccer net at the end of the field.
"On three, two, one, go," he counted down and you both started running, building up speed and reaching peak speed near the middle of the field.
As you often did when you ran full speed, you felt like you were flying, the wind brushing against your cheeks, running through your hair. However, that moment was suddenly cut short, sending you stumbling on the track. You went down with a yelp and, ahead of you, you saw Jimin slow down and stop at the noise, coming back towards you when he saw you crouched down.
"What happened?" He asked once he reached you, crouching beside you to have a look at your ankle, which you were currently holding.
"I think I sprained it," you said as you looked down, uncovering it. "I tripped on my laces and my ankle went wayside trying to keep me balanced. It's a pretty stupid way to have an injury."
"And to boot, it happens five days before the sports festival," Jimin said. "Can you stand?" He asked, offering you his arm.
"Yeah, I'm good," you said, standing up as you both started walking.
"Liar," he said, calling you out on your limp.
"Am not," you said, leaving his side and trying to walk on your own. Two steps and a couple of winces later, he stepped up to you, putting your arm around his shoulder so he could support the most of your body weight.
"Are too."
"It'll be fine after I rest," you defended as he looked at you with a raised eyebrow.
"You know what," he said. "You're exactly like my other friend. Always so stubborn and lying that he's fine when he isn't. I should set you up together so you guys can finally realize how infuriating you both are."
"You know I'm free," you said with a wink. Being close, you often joked about setting each other up, occasionally actually setting each other up, though the resulting relationships weren't always as ideal as imagined.
"I'll make sure to get you guys in contact then," he said with a chuckle. "Don't be surprised if he texts you this weekend. You can even meet after the festival, if you and your ankle are up to it."
"I'll be fine if I rest over the weekend," you said with a light shove. "Don't worry about the festival. I'll make sure to come in first place."
---
"You won't be running," Jimin said decisively, arms crossed over his chest. "I'll tell Wendy to run for you."
"I'm fine," you said, shrugging his comment off. "The race starts in five minutes anyway, and she's part of the cheering squad. We can't just drop a bomb on her like that."
"Sure we can," he replied. "She did some sports before, I'm sure she'll be fine and I'm sure she won't mind."
"I'll run, Jimin," you said. "Stop worrying. It's not even 100m of hurdling; I'll be fine."
"I don't trust you will," he answered, pointing the ankle brace peaking out from over the top of your running shoe. "When you told me it'd heal over the weekend I didn't believe you and with reason. I'm no doctor but the bruising was already pretty bad by the time I brought you home. I'm not going to let you run on an injured ankle."
"It's fine," you said although you knew it wasn't. You had tested it out yesterday and, while you would walk, jumping strained your ankle and it jammed when you overworked it too much. However, you weren't the type to let yourself be bested by an occasionally aching joint.
"Here, I'll even take it off to run," you said, bending down to take off your shoe and ankle brace. "Just to prove I don't need it to win a medal."
"If you need it don't take it off," Jimin exclaimed in concern as you threw it at him, putting your shoe back on. "If you're going to run injured at least run safely."
"It was for extra measure," you said. "I don't really need it and I'm not letting you stop me from running my race, Park."
Before he could retort, a pair of students came up to the both of you to tell you that you had to get ready for your respective events. The hurdles athletes had to go warm up and get ready, while the archery team had a practice period of thirty minutes before their competition started. They had trained after school for it and Jimin had been chosen as a member, scoring in the eight to ten points on average.
"See you later," you said, waving as you left him there, your ankle brace in hand, to thoughtlessly follow his fellow student to the designated practice area. "Make sure to win!"
---
"Hey Kook!" Someone called out to him in a voice he recognized as Taehyung's.
"Hey, what's up?" He asked between pants, wiping the sweat off his brow as he lay in the cool grass, the breeze doing wonders to cool down his burning forehead. He had a headache forming and it was probably due to the empty stomach he was running on. He hadn't had much sleep over the weekend and has trained late into the night yesterday to make sure he was ready for today. Also, he had maybe, just maybe, overdone it by putting in too much effort during his activities today. Plus, he hadn't had any time to eat, not that he was very hungry at the moment. Really, there were probably more reasons to it than he would have liked to admit.
"I was going to as you a favor, but seeing the state you're in, I think I better thinking twice about it," the brunet said, sitting down beside his friend, who sat up to meet him, blinking away the black spots in his vision.
"I'm good," the younger male replied. "What can I do for you? Run your race?"
"How did you know?" Taehyung asked, face morphing into a mask of surprise.
"I remember you telling me about your bad knees during class some time ago," he replied. "You said they wouldn't stop you from becoming a firefighter, but that your joints ached from time to time. I’m guessing they blocked after our dance?"
"Oooh," his friend said, half in awe half teasing. "That's police officer Jeon Jungkook and his amazing memory and deduction skills for you."
"Shove off," he replied with a grin. His upper-classmen, friends and fellow classmates always teased him for it. "When's your race?"
"Forget about it," Taehyung said. "You aren't in good enough shape to do it. You've probably overworked yourself. Again. What events did you do this morning? Your own sprint followed by our department morning dance event and now you want to run? With no break in between? You're crazy to think I'd let you run. Or more like I was crazy enough to think of asking you. You look like you need to inhale an entire oxygen tank. You're looking pretty pale and you're sweating buckets."
"Come on man, I'll be fine. It's just a little bit of running. I won't allow us to get less than a gold medal for the relay race," Jungkook argued, playfully shoving his friend. "You know our departments are always first. I just need to drink a bit of water and I'll be fine."
"It's okay to break tradition once in a while," the elder replied, getting up. "I'll ask Hyunsik to run for me."
"No offense to him," Jungkook said, grabbing his friends' arm to get on his feet, coughing a few times when his breath caught in his chest. "But I'm faster."
---
"I knew this was going to happen," Taehyung said as he jogged alongside the stretcher two ER students were moving. The event managers had asked the medical students to be on standby for injuries or other things gone wrong, like students overestimating themselves. This situation was a prime example of the latter.
"Hey, are you still alive over there?" He asked over the male students' shoulder, limping along as one of his knees jammed. He was the one closest to him, the girl at the feet of the stretcher in front.
"He's going to be fine in a bit," the student answered as passed through the university's main doors, making a beeline for the closest door to the infirmary.
Taehyung arrived a few minutes later because of his knee, but when he got there, people were already bustling about, a few surrounding his childhood friend. Two were massaging his limbs -arms and legs-, the other was fanning him, another was bringing over an actual metal fan from the other side of the room to cool him down, and the last was feeding Jungkook oxygen through a mask.
"Maybe it'd be better to take some layers off if he's too hot," Taehyung said, taking support at the base of the bed.
His friend had been faint-headed because of the heat and all the moving around, or so he had heard. They also suspected lack of nutrients. Although he had left later than his friend this morning, since they shared a residence, he also knew Jungkook had come back later than he had fallen asleep, which had been pretty late seeing as he had been up playing video games.
When the younger feebly protested to the tug of his clothes, Taehyung said; "I know you have a lava hot body, don't try to hide it. Your date isn't even in the room right now, so fret not, friend. I have you covered. We just need to cool you down."
When his friend kept insisting on keeping his clothes on, Taehyung let the subject go. "Fine, your socks and your shirt are your pride. I get it. I told you not to run," he said more seriously. "I should've insisted more than that."
"We won first though," Jungkook joked, though his voice sounded thin and his breath was labored.
"Is that really what's important right now?" Taehyung asked, slapping his friends' shin. "You're always overexerting yourself. It's time to rest a bit, look back and reconsider your attitude. I know you always give it your all, but have you ever considered that maybe, sometime's it's better to live life moderately rather than at its fullest?"
"You've become a philosopher now?" Jungkook mocked through the oxygen mask as the med students sat him up, actively massaging his nape to insure good blood circulation to the brain.
"Shut up and rest," Taehyung spat back, massaging his own knee, hoping to alleviate its tension. He looked behind him and sat down at the free bed, so as to not overwork his other knee. "I'm leaving once they tell me you're good. Someone needs to go claim that medal."
---
Hey, I don't think I'll be able to meet you on time, you typed as you walked, using the wall as support. I've been held back a bit.
You received a message a few seconds later, your phone vibrating in your hand: Same here. I injured myself and I think I might have to rain check. Sorry.
The day after having sprained your ankle, you had woken up to a text message from an unknown number, saying they had gotten your number from a friend that said you would be a good match. Just like Jimin had predicted. You both had kept texting throughout the day, as you went about your daily activities, and had ended up texting late into the night.
You had woken up the next morning, slightly regretful, but had continued to talk like you didn't mind. Because of conflicting schedules, you hadn't been able to meet up, but you had talked every day, answering when you weren't busy. He was nice to talk to, you came to realize.
Is it serious? You texted back, biting your nail anxiously, leaning against the wall. You always had been one to concern yourself more about others than yourself.
Him: Not really..? I'm resting in the infirmary. My friend just left.
You: You don't seem sure haha Where are you? I'm on my way
Him: Trying to make up for our missed first date already? ;)
You snickered at the answer, texting it was because of an injury, before making your way to the nurse's desk.
"Can I have an ice pack to go please?" You asked. "It's for a sprained ankle."
"Are you sure you're good to go?" She asked, going in the back room to get one, handing you the bag of ice as she came out. "You came in limping and I heard from a friend that it wasn't an easy fall and that I should keep you here for a while."
"It's alright," you said, scratching the back of your neck in embarrassment. Had news really travelled that fast?
You knew it hadn't been a good idea to run the race, even more so without your ankle brace, but you had stubbornly thrown that at Jimin and it had been too late to back down and you were too prideful to take it back. You had given the race your all, ignoring the throb in your ankle as you jumped over the hurdles, not once making them topple over. However, your mind and body had different thoughts and, near the end of the race, as you landed after your last hurdle, your ankle gave out from under you, sending you tumbling and ultimately sprawling over the finish line.
As your friends rushed over to you to check up on you and to congratulate you on your miraculous third place, you had scratched your head sheepishly, asking one of them to help you up. After seeing your purple and progressively swelling ankle, one of your friends hurried to give you a piggy back ride and rush you to the infirmary. You had told Jackson to leave you at the elevator door, saying you didn't want to be a more of a bother and had ushered them back out on the field, telling him to claim your medal in your stead and to stop worrying.
"Oh, you must be Jackson's nurse friend. I think he mentioned you a few times. I told him not to make a fuss," you said with a sheepish smile. "Sorry if he was a bother."
"Oh no," she replied. "He's like a little brother to me, its alright. He wasn't more annoying than usual. Still, you should stay around for a while."
"I'll take advantage of one of your beds then. Thanks for the ice pack," you said, slowly inching away as you nodded as thanks.
"It's nothing," she replied with a smile. "The infirmary was supposed to be empty all day, in the best of cases, but a handful of you ended up here. If ever you need something else, don't hesitate to come back to the front desk."
"Will do," you said with a nod, heading towards the spot he had texted you.
"Hello?" You asked cautiously, peeking through the alleys of beds as you limped your way to the south end of the nurse's office.
"I'm here," someone said from behind the curtains. A hand appeared at the end of the bed you were conveniently in front of, pulling the curtain away to reveal a boy your age. He was lying down on the bed, a towel over his forehead, an IV bag hanging overhead on his right.
"You said it wasn't serious, but you receiving IV fluids says otherwise" you said, putting the bag of ice on the bedside table and then looking for a chair to sit on. You didn't want to selfishly hog an entire bed for a single ankle.
"It's looks more serious than it actually is," he replied, removing the towel from his forehead and propping himself up on the bed, extending a hand. "Since this is the first time we meet in person, let's properly introduce ourselves. I'm Jungkook Jeon from the police department."
"Y/N Y/LN, architecture," you said, shaking his hand and then pointing to the right program name of the two embroided on the sleeve of your shirt. The university had made custom shirts for each team, with colors and designs on the back fit for each program, last names printed over the heart. Yours was yellow with a ribbon wrapped cube surrounded by a ring, his was dark blue with a police badge printed on the front, under his name.
"What's up with the ankle?" He asked as you set your leg up on the foot of his bed, the chair situated near his torso. In the five days you had had to virtually acquaint yourselves to each other, you had mentally become quite close, comfortable even. "Is it the injury you mentioned? No offense, but it looks pretty bad."
"None taken," you said as you dropped the ice bag on your ankle, hissing as the cold dug its way through your skin. "And it looks worse than I thought. My injuries aren't usually this bad."
"You say that as if you usually get injured," he said, wordlessly bending over to put the towel he had kept on his forehead under the ice pack to help counter the cold.
You leaned back into the chair before replying. "Jimin says I push myself too hard and that's why I get injuries. Most of the time it's a few bruises or a sprain that leaves after a good night's sleep, not week long sprains."
"Shouldn't you be more careful? Ankles are more fragile than you think and they're pretty useful for day to day life. It'd suck to have them permanently injured."
"You're sounding like Jimin," you teased. "And I don't always injure my ankles. What about you mister IV? What are you here for?"
"Low blow," he chuckled, though he replied once you raised your eyebrow at him. "Slight dehydration and lack of food."
"And you dare say that isn't serious?" You exclaimed, slapping his arm before crossing them over your chest again. "What kind of policeman doesn't look after himself? I thought you were eating between your training sessions."
"Hey, it just slipped my mind," he tried justifying. "I ate all week, I just forgot to eat breakfast before leaving this morning."
"And then you say I should take better care of myself," you laughed. "Speak for yourself, officer."
“Yes ma’am,” he replied with a laugh that brightened the room.
---
"Hey, is Y/N still in the infirmary?" Jimin asked the nurse breathlessly, hands on his knees as he tried finding his breath again. He had run up the two flights of stairs in a hurry, too impatient to wait for the elevator, and had then sprinted down a hallway, full speed ahead.
"Pardon, who?" She said, looking up from her desk.
"Y/N," he repeated. "I heard she came in with a sprained ankle, something like -he checked his phone- two hours ago."
"Oh, her," the girl said, eyes lighting up in recognition. "Yes, she should still be here. I saw her head towards the South side, near the windows overlooking the field."
"Alright thank you," the blond said, waving her thanks as he headed in the direction she had indicated.
After his own archery event, he had been too busy celebrating his silver medal with his friends that he hadn't checked his phone. It wasn't until he had seen Jackson on stage receiving Y/N's medal beside him that he had known something was wrong. As they had descended the stage, Jackson asked him if he had seen his message yet. When Jimin replied that he hadn't, Jackson had briefed him in a hurry and the shorter male had sprinted to the infirmary.
"I'm so sorry I'm late are you-" he said, the words dying down as he took in the scene.
"Shh," you said, a finger over your lips as you ushered him with the other. "Did Jackson give you my medal?"
"Yeah," he trailed off in a daze, searching through his pockets to hand it to you.
"Nice," you commented as you got it, looking over it on both sides, fingers tracing through the curves and indents of the smooth metal. Although you had held a medal at a race not too long ago, it was nice to feel the weight of one in your hand again.
"Should I be asking questions?" Jimin finally asked, pointing to your other hand as he sat down on the bed beside her.
"You can ask but I wouldn't be able to answer," you replied, also looking down at you and Jungkook's intertwined hands. "I don't know if it's a sleeping habit of his or if this is him being sly, but this happened after he fell asleep."
"I'm sure it did," Jimin said with a knowing look as he sat down beside you, nudging you with his shoulder.
"What are you trying to imply," you asked, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "Are you saying there has to be an ulterior motive to holding hands with someone?"
"I wouldn't dare," he said, raising his arms in mock surrender. " Pretend as though I said nothing"
"Good."
"Here, switch places with me," he told you, motioning for you to take the bed. "Take a nap; I'll even hold his hand if you want. You must be tired from your injury and not having been able to rest."
"It's okay," you declined politely.
Jungkook had fallen asleep during a talking break and you had just let him be, occasionally rearranging the ice pack on your foot, completely discarding it when it had melted too much. Before you had the chance to get up to get another one, his hand had found your wrist and then your hand, tugging it towards him. You had turned back to check if he had woken up, but when you had found his eyes still closed and his chest rising at the same speed as before, you had simply sat back down, taking out your phone to play some games.
"I don't mind holding hands with him. I'll just sleep when I get home later."
"Alright," he said, a smile making his way to his face as he saw, behind you, Jungkook biting down on his lips to keep a neutral face. "I'll let the couple-to-be be lovey dovey."
You hit his bicep with your arm. "Shut up! Don't you have other things to do except spout nonsense. What about your event? How did it go?"
"I won silver," he said, keeping your attention on him as Jungkook opened his eyes to look over you fondly. "As promised."
The End
A/N: And that’s another wrap! I think this is the fastest I’ve ever writing a story so far. It took something like a week? A week and a half? Anyways, that’s really quick for me, so I’m really happy I was able to release a story I’m proud of in such a short amount of time. Anyway, seeing Jungkook in that Burn the Stage episode hurt my heart. I understand where he’s coming from though, since I’m a bit similar, so I projected his ambition and recklessness into a story. I hope you enjoyed :) I also hope he takes better care of his body and health and the six other boys too!
