✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The tension in the hall was palpable. Each person stood or sat motionless, eyes fixed on the small radio in the center of the room, their collective breath held in a tight knot. The static buzzed, a constant reminder of the distance, of the silence between them and Y/N. The wait had stretched into hours, and the hope was quickly fading into frustration. Hyungsik stay still at his side, the hum of the radio seeming louder than the absence of any voice on the other end.

Taehyung paced back and forth, his eyes flicking to the others, but his movements were erratic, like a caged animal unable to settle. "It's been too long," he muttered under his breath, his voice strained.

Sehun stood by the window, his face tight, brows furrowed. He had been trying to stay calm, but the silence was eating at him. "She's always pulled through. She has to. She's-"

"She's not invincible," RM cut in sharply, his voice edged with frustration, but there was a flicker of something deeper-fear, maybe, or regret. "We all know that. But we also know how stubborn she is. If she's not answering, it's not good."

Suga leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, his gaze distant as if trying to focus somewhere beyond the radio, beyond the room, beyond the hall itself.

Minho sat on the edge of a table, his legs swinging idly, but his eyes were narrow, sharp. "It's not like Y/N to fall and not get up. I can't remember the last time she didn't come back..."

Jimin, usually the calmest, had his hands wrapped tightly around his knees. He looked like he wanted to run, to break through the radio's barrier and drag Y/N back to them, but all he could do was wait.

"I'm telling you," Jungkook muttered, running a hand through his hair, "this silence isn't normal. We should've heard something by now."

"Just wait," Jiwoo's voice was soft but steady, though the tension in her eyes belied her calm. "She'll wake up. She always does."

The radio crackled again, a momentary break in the suffocating silence. But it was just static. No voice. No sound of Y/N. The group collectively released the breath they hadn't realized they'd been holding. It felt like they were sinking further into the void of uncertainty.

The figures on the mountain stood in eerie stillness, their faces expressionless, the harsh sunlight casting long shadows across their figures. One of them spoke, his voice as cold as the wind that swept through the peaks, "We don't have to even watch. You know we've been watching her for months. It's a world where it's on you how you survive." His tone was detached, as if discussing a mere passing interest, a casual observation.

They had watched Y/N before. The way she moved through the terrain with a stubborn determination, always returning, always trying. They had seen her fail-more times than they cared to count. She would disappear for days, sometimes weeks, coming and going back with nothing, sometimes injured, often scratched from the unforgiving mountain terrain. And still, every time, there she was, ready to go again.

But this time, it was different. They had seen her fall from the mountain, her body tumbling in a way that made even them wince. Scrapes, bruises, blood seeping from her head, staining her shirt. It was the sight of blood that stopped them in their tracks, the way it soaked through her upper body, a stark red against the grim surroundings. She didn't move this time. No groan, no stirring, just an eerie silence from the figure lying on the ground.

The watchers, who had grown so accustomed to Y/N's resilience, were left in a moment of stillness. Her determination, her persistence, had always been an entertainment of sorts, a show they had come to expect. But now... now there was nothing. No movement. No stubborn rise after each fall.

They didn't want or need to know what she was after, what she was searching for. They didn't pry. They didn't care about the why-they were content simply watching, like spectators at an endless, twisted performance. It wasn't about understanding her mission; it was about seeing her, seeing her struggle and rise, even if it was only for their amusement.

One of them broke the silence again, his voice low, but with a hint of something more-was it doubt? "She's never been like this before... I wonder how long it'll take for her to wake up."

But even as the words hung in the air, no one moved to act, to intervene. The watchers were too detached, too far removed. It wasn't their place to change the outcome. Not yet, anyway. They would continue to watch, just like they always did.

The oldest one's eyes flickered from Y/N to the other three, her gaze hardening as she assessed the situation. The air was thick with uncertainty, but there was no denying the weight of the decision that hung between them. She spoke, her voice cold yet carrying a faint undercurrent of reluctant concern.

"It will not harm us if we help her," she said, her tone final. "We don't need to stay there, just make sure she's fine."

Her words settled in the silence like a weight. The others shifted, glancing at one another as if unsure of the next move. She continued, more decisively now, "You two go there, take care of her head. That's a critical injury. If we don't do anything, one thing is clear: this type she won't make it. Just stop the bleeding and make sure the area isn't infected."

She turned her attention back to the others, her voice sharpening. "We'll come later taking her bags and any essentials left behind on top. Afterward, we'll make sure the area around her is clear of any unnecessary infected."

The youngest one nodded, looking towards the older woman, her eyes wide but understanding. She quickly started to gather a few items, preparing herself for what was about to happen.

"No need to do more," the oldest added, her voice softened ever so slightly, though her expression remained unreadable. "Just take care of her head. We don't need to get too involved."

The weight of her words hung in the air. There was no room for hesitation. They would act, but only just enough to ensure their safety-nothing more. They weren't doing this out of any sense of duty, but out of practicality, a cold acknowledgment of what might happen if they didn't take the necessary steps.

The others moved, gathering their supplies, preparing for the task ahead. The oldest stayed still, her gaze piercing, watching the others as they went to carry out their orders.

As the two who had been assigned the task began making their way down toward Y/N, the wind carried a chill, but it didn't stop the uncertainty and the strange, growing sense of unease that gnawed at the back of everyone's minds. Would helping her truly be enough? Or would their decision bring them deeper into something they couldn't control?

They were about to find out.

---

The two young ones made their way carefully to Y/N's still form, their eyes scanning the area with the same practiced vigilance they'd been taught. They knew well that the orders had their back, but caution was their priority. The surrounding silence felt oppressive, and they made sure there were no immediate threats before moving closer to Y/N's body.

Her shirt was torn, bloodied, and her face was a mess-red and swollen from the injury to her head, with her hair matted to her cheek. Her arms were scratched, evidence of the harsh terrain she'd traversed. But it was the head wound that had their full attention. They couldn't afford to waste any time.

Kneeling beside her, they gently turned her over, shifting her from her stomach to her back. They worked in silence, hands trembling slightly as they checked the wound, making sure to stop the bleeding and assess the damage. The pressure of their task felt suffocating, but they couldn't afford to hesitate. She was a survivor-just like them.

However, what they didn't notice was the walkie-talkie, laid a little further away near a rock. It blended so seamlessly with the color of the rock that it almost went unnoticed, lying there in quiet stillness as though waiting for someone to pick it up.

On the other side of the walkie-talkie, in the hall, the group remained frozen, waiting for any sign of noise-any movement, any hint of life from Y/N. But there was nothing. The silence stretched on, heavy and suffocating.

Then, a sound broke the stillness-the faint, unmistakable noise of footsteps. Everyone tensed. Y/N had made them to switch off the radio days ago, ensuring no noise would escape and attract unnecessary threats.

The footsteps paused, then resumed, quieter now, like a predator's careful approach-too soft to identify, but definitely there. It wasn't clear what was happening, but the group stayed still, listening intently, praying it wasn't a new threat that could endanger Y/N, still unconscious on the other side.

The voices crackled through the static, faint but unmistakable. It was clear something serious was unfolding on the other side. The group held their collective breath, straining to listen, the tension mounting with every passing second.

Jungkook clenched his fist, the uncertainty gnawing at him. "Who are they?" His voice was low, barely a whisper, but it didn't go unnoticed.

Taehyung, pacing again, halted abruptly, shooting a glance toward the others. "Is it... Is it someone Y/N knows?" His words were heavy, filled with suspicion.

The group exchanged looks-what were they hearing? A stranger helping Y/N? Or did Y/N know them? Why hadn't she mentioned this? And why hadn't they come sooner?

Minho, trying to steady his breath, shook his head. "She's never mentioned anyone like that. If she knew them, she would've told us... maybe." His words hung in the air, offering no real clarity.

Before anyone could respond, the sound of a hiss cut through, sharp and filled with discomfort. "Damn," one of the figures on the other end muttered, their voice jagged with disbelief. "This is bad. It's definitely gonna leave a scar... a deep one."

A heavy silence settled over the group. Their hearts pounded louder than ever, each of them thinking the same thing-How deep? How bad was the injury?

The radio crackled once more, then fell silent. Nothing.

The group stood frozen, eyes locked on each other. The questions remained unanswered, but one thing was clear: Y/N was in far more danger than they had anticipated. If it weren't for whoever was helping her on the other side, they might not have known how bad things really were.

They couldn't afford to move yet. They didn't have answers, and they didn't know what was happening to Y/N. But they had no choice but to wait, listen, and hope that the next transmission would bring some kind of clarity.

As the two worked diligently, the silence between them grew thicker, and one couldn't help but glance down at Y/N's body, instinctively searching for more signs of injury. The scratches were familiar, typical of someone who had traversed rough terrain, but her torn clothes revealed something far more concerning. With a hesitant hand, she gently lifted and slid the fabric aside, her eyes narrowing as she examined the area for anything worse.

Her partner, focused on preparing the herbal mixture, didn't protest or question the action. She had learned to trust her companion's instincts in these moments. The girl carefully dabbed the mixture onto Y/N's forehead, the cool paste a temporary relief from the growing concern.

Meanwhile, in the hall, the group listened intently to every movement, every rustle. They could hear the faint sounds of work being done, of attempts to aid Y/N, but it wasn't enough. The silence of the two figures on the other side made it impossible to discern the true extent of her condition.

As one of them continued examining Y/N's injuries, she suddenly muttered, "You know she's on her period?" Her voice was casual, as if merely noting an observation, though she smirked slightly, not bothering to look up as she checked for injuries along Y/N's legs.

The other woman, caught off guard mid-action, coughed in surprise. "Seriously?" she muttered, shaking her head. She hadn't expected that piece of information to come up so suddenly. But after a brief pause, she shrugged and responded flatly, "So what? It's not exactly a rare thing. It's normal."

The first one let out a small chuckle. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Just saying-mine ended two days ago. What about yours?"

The second woman exhaled sharply, clearly unamused. "Are you really trying to have this conversation right now?" She shot her a side-eye before returning to tending Y/N's wounds. "Like you're even gonna remember when I tell you. Just do your job, and if I say something, you'll act like you didn't hear it anyway."

The first one smirked but let the topic drop, focusing back on the task at hand.

Meanwhile, in the hall, where the rest of the group was listening in, the reactions were... mixed.

Jiwoo, Minho, Sehun, and Hyungsik remained largely unfazed. They barely reacted, their focus still on Y/N's condition rather than the casual conversation happening on the other side.

The rest?

They definitely heard it. And Yeah. They weren't touching that.

The conversation crackled through the radio, making the already tense atmosphere much worse-or, in some cases, way more entertaining.

A few of them leaned in slightly, waiting for any useful update on Y/N's condition.

Instead, they got-

"Well, yeah, of course, it's normal. Otherwise, how else would you exist? Didn't exactly fall from the sky, did you?"

Jungkook blinked. Jimin's brows furrowed. RM visibly hesitated before deciding he absolutely did not want to know where this was going.

Then-

"Oh? So you wanna go there now?"

"No, no, I don't wanna 'go' anywhere. But, you know... I could turn lesbian for this girl. I mean, seriously. She's a whole other level."

Jin let out a sound that could only be described as a mix between a cough and a what-the-actual-hell. Hobi's eyes widened as he glanced at RM, who was now rubbing his temples like this conversation alone was giving him a migraine.

Then, the second voice responded-

"Oh? I should probably tell the others, then. Maybe they'll help you become a proper lesbian. Though I'm pretty sure She's just gonna throw you off a cliff for that."

Jungkook and Taehyung clamped a hand over their mouth, his body shaking with barely contained laughter. Jimin, eyes wide, slowly turned his head to look at the others, mouthing: Did I just hear that correctly?

RM let out a slow, controlled exhale. "We are not having this conversation."

Suga, standing perfectly still, muttered under his breath, "I knew I should've just walked away."

But it didn't stop there.

"Hey! You can't tell her! That was just between us!"

"Mmm. I can tell her. And I will-if you don't stop talking."

A heavy pause.

Then, the first girl wisely dropped the subject.

Another pause.

Sehun, arms crossed, finally spoke up, completely deadpan. "At least we know Y/N's got options."

That was the final straw.

Jungkook wheeze-laughed so hard he had to turn away. Jimin let out an exaggerated groan, dragging his hands down his face. Taehyung smirked at Jin, who now looked like he regretted every decision that led him here.

Jiwoo, without looking up, asked in a completely neutral voice, "Are you all done?"

Minho sighed. "Clearly not."

RM, still massaging his temples, muttered, "I hate this group sometimes."

And Suga?

Suga was already walking away.

---

As the second one tied the cloth around Y/N's forehead, she had already cleaned the area from her head down to her neck, carefully wiping away any dried blood or dirt. But as she adjusted her position, something wet pressed against her leg.

Frowning, she glanced down where her knee rested against Y/N's shoulder. A dark stain had spread across the fabric of her pants, the dampness unmistakable.

Her brows furrowed. That's not right.

Without hesitation, she reached for Y/N's shirt, fingers swiftly undoing the buttons.

The first girl, who had been about to make another teasing remark, immediately caught the change in her partner's demeanor. She tilted her head. "What's wrong?"

The other didn't answer right away. Instead, she pushed the fabric aside, revealing more of Y/N's skin. Her breath hitched slightly, her lips pressing into a thin line.

The first girl, now alert, moved closer to see what had made her partner go so quiet. And the moment she did, her expression shifted.

A low hiss escaped her lips. "Shit. This is bad."

A deep gash stretched across Y/N's side, still oozing sluggishly, the edges raw and irritated. The initial focus on her head injury had distracted them from checking for anything worse.

"We need to clean this too," the first girl muttered, voice losing its usual lightness. "It's still bleeding slightly, but we have to be careful. We don't want to reopen it." Her fingers traced lightly around the wound, assessing the damage. "Damn... she might've already lost too much blood."

As she spoke, her gaze flickered downward, catching sight of the second girl's pants. Her eyes narrowed, and she suddenly halted.

"Wait." She gestured to the stain. "Your pants are soaked in blood. You didn't notice?"

The second girl blinked, looking down at her own clothes as if just now realizing it. She exhaled through her nose. "No. I was too focused on your nonsense and her head injury."

The first girl scoffed, shaking her head. But neither of them panicked. Their voices remained steady, their actions fluid. They talked about blood loss like someone else would talk about kneading dough.

Meanwhile, in the hall, the entire group sat in rigid silence.

The atmosphere had shifted-hard.

Where there had been tension laced with occasional amusement before, now there was only an oppressive weight hanging over them.

They had been listening intently to every sound, but hearing the two women discuss Y/N's condition so casually, so normally, made it worse.

They couldn't see her. They didn't know how much blood she had already lost. They had no way of knowing if she was still getting worse. And that uncertainty?

It was unbearable.

The tension in the room was thick as the group listened intently to the transmission, their minds racing with concern for Y/N. On the other end, the two women were moving quickly, their actions sharp and precise as they worked to stabilize her.

"Let me help," one of them said, her voice urgent as she quickly stripped off her shirt and began preparing to tend to Y/N's wounds.

The other, focused on mixing herbs and making a healing paste, didn't glance up. Her movements were methodical, but the air was tense, charged with the weight of the situation.

A moment later, the first woman paused, her brow furrowed as she looked at her partner. "Hey, come over here-look. Do you think this could be dislocated? Look carefully here."

The second woman let out a long sigh but walked over nonetheless, crouching beside Y/N's injured body. After a brief inspection, she nodded, though her voice was matter-of-fact. "What do you expect after that fall? It was bad, as you know. Look at that rock over there-it's about six meters from here. She slipped from the top, rolling down the jagged mountain, scraping herself all the way, and then dropped from that rock above, with nothing to break her fall, landing straight into this valley. If she's lucky, it's just a dislocated shoulder.