Super Junior 100 themes | #64.Hope.(Kyuhyun/Kyuhyun) | #72.Show off.(Kangin/Kibum)
Hope
064. Balance (Kyuhyun/Kyuhyun)
PG | Angst/drama | 453 words
Date started: 20/11/2007
100 themes
Challenge: here
At first, he couldn't move. It took too much strength to even rise up on his own. Sweat was already trickling down his forehead with every breath, every heave he had to release. The hospital clothes suddenly felt too restraining. Someone had to help him sit up when it's time to eat. Someone had to pick him up for his daily checkups for changes. Someone had to push him forward in the wheelchair to enable easy transport.
He hated troubling others for his liability. The lovely noona had tried to keep him comfortable. The respectable doctor was trying his hardest to look for alternatives that are less dangerous to his form. For a moment, Kyuhyun wondered if he would be stuck in a wheel chair forever. The fear gnawed at his mind on his every waking moment. He grabbed the front of his gown, tightening the hold on the thin fabric. He won't be normal again?
What about life beyond these hospital walls?
He grabbed the railing, pulling himself up from the chair. His knees were about to buckle and his feet slipped under his weight. Kyuhyun desperately held on tight on the railing, gasping and heaving and ignored a lone trail of sweat going from his temple down his cheek. Having been confined in bed and wheelchair for a few weeks it was understandable his feet no longer had the strength to keep him upright. They were numbed.
He stretched his arms, hands still gripping the railing as he leans on it to support all his weight, to get used to standing all over again.
Panting, he willed his feet to work, to move to the left or right or whichever side. His backside was throbbing again as he strained himself to be able to move. He could feel bitterness pricking the back of his eyes--Kyuhyun, don't you dare cry! Don't you dare cry!
One of his feet--the right one--rose slowly from the floor, just a few centimeters, shaky at first and then it dragged along the way centimeter by centimeter.
"You're making progress, Kyuhyun-sshi," the doctor noted down something in his chart. The nurse rushed over with his wheelchair and then she used a dry cloth to wipe away the beads of sweat.
"That is enough for today. Let's get you back to your room. Your friends are there waiting for you," she said with a placid smile, fixed the chair's wheels and went behind it to push the chair forwards.
A sense of loss settled down on his chest as he gave the railing one last lingering look for the day. He narrowed his eyes at his practice ground, silently vowing to do better the next day.
Show off
072. Muscles (Kangin / Kibum)
trainee!verse | PG13 | General/Friendship | 829 words
The instructor ad been merciless that day, grilling the last few steps into their system and working them hard like slaves. They have to become the best. They have to get these steps right. Stiff limbs move about to capture the rhythm of the beat playing in the back of the dancing room. They can't afford to release the tension from their shoulders for fear the instructor would reprimand them some more about their lack of coordination and sharp actions. And yet the frown on the instructor's face got more dangerous.
Watching his own reflection in concentration, Youngwoon feels more ridiculous than enlightened with the new steps the instructor had taught them.
Among the many slim figures his rather plump appearance sticks out like a sore thumb. Just the thought of being a bit heavier than the others made his face flush in embarrassment. He just can't seem to lose any pounds now that his diet is under strict consideration.
Shit!
He trips over his own foot, ruining a set of dance routines after that and braces himself as he hits the wooden floor. Exhausted and still panting. The others have already stopped dancing and crowd around him to see if he's all right. The instructor releases his wrath with a curse to the ceiling, grudgingly making his way to Youngwoon's still unmoving form.
"You weren't paying attention!" He accuses.
"I apologize, sir. I couldn't take on the pressure," was left unsaid as Younwoon averts his eyes by closing them, realizing he's very, very tired now.
"All right. Everyone, take fifteen minutes break!" the instructor says out loud and with a none-too-happy look on his face he heads out of the dance room.
Youngwoon feels like a failure because everywhere is aching while everyone seems to be all fine and dandy.
Part of his diet--besides eating less calories and meat and fat--is going to the gym twice a week. He does weightlifting, first one kilograms and then one and a half, and tries just about any equipment he could find in the gym hall. The few times he had attended that place he saw the same faces, the faces that keep reminding him that one day they'll become his rivals in the industry.
The rumor about more foreign trainees entering their domain is spread out among his peers within a few seconds. The female trainees in particular are quite taken with one of the younger trainees... Kibum was it? Or was it Changmin?
More rivals. More people. Less room. This is reality.
In the locker room he finds some trainees terrorizing a group of new faces in the corner. Actually, it isn't of his business what his fellow-trainees do in their free time--be it getting drunk, bedding some chick or beating the crap out of wimpy, girly faces. But one glance in their direction already rules out any reasoning why not to interfere with shitheads' businesses. One of the rookies is lying flat on the ground, panting and coughing. Two other rookies cower in the corner whereas the tallest out of the group stands protectively over the injured trainee, eyes fierce and hands, no, fists raised in defense.
"Oi, what the heck is going on here?" he calls out before he could think twice and slams a fist on the nearest locker door.
"Just walk away, Youngwoon. It's none of your business,"
"I'm making this my business, asshole. That's my locker you're trying to dirty,"
The last thing he could remember is large eyes looking at him from the ground until he gets dragged into a dirty fist fight with the shitheads.
----
"It's been quite awhile, isn't it?" Youngwoon says, taking a long drag from his cigarette and exhales it all out as he stares off from the balcony, leaning against the railing. His companion waves the smoke distractedly away from his face.
"Yeah. And now we're in the same band."
Youngwoon smiles and throws the stick away.
"Eeteuk hyung is going to kill you for that, hyung,"
"Che, I'd like to see him try." Youngwoon snorts.
Kibum shakes his head in irony. "I thought you love him."
Youngwoon stops staring ahead and fixes his gaze on the boy besides him. "I do... only at certain times. Don't we all?"
"... yeah. Me too. Just a bit." Kibum allows himself to smile. "I'm so glad you take the father's role so seriously, hyung."
Youngwoon rolls his eyes. "Don't start with me, Kibum. Please."
"I trained after that, you know?"
"Really? I never noticed,"
"You were suspended from the gym hall for the fight, remember?"
"Oh yeah. I forgot about that and now I remember it quite clearly. You were so weak back then." Youngwoon presses Kibum's arms, measuring and poking the muscled contours. "And now they are hardened throughout your training."
"Don't worry, hyung. I'll protect you if you ever get beaten up," Kibum adds suddenly with a cheeky smile and dodges Youngwoon's punch, laughing.
TheNekoTalks:
... *dies* I couldn't keep them away from being OoC.