Jungkook's feet felt heavy as he walked through the stark, white corridors of the hospital. The scent of antiseptic clung to the air, the cold fluorescent lights casting shadows over his pale features. But he didn't care. He couldn't care.
The only thing that mattered was the small boy lying in that hospital room.
His Jihyun. His son.
His heart clenched painfully at the thought of what could have happened—what nearly happened. He swallowed back the lump rising in his throat, trying to force himself to focus, to breathe. His body still ached from his own injuries, his legs weak from exhaustion, but he kept moving.
And then he saw them.
The Kim family.
They stood outside Jihyun’s hospital room like they had any right to be there. Like they had any right to claim his son as theirs.
Jungkook’s jaw clenched, his fingers curling into fists at his sides as his gaze flickered over each of them. Jin, standing close to Namjoon, his eyes red-rimmed as if he had been crying. Madam Kim, composed as ever, her lips pressed into a thin line, but there was something in her eyes that Jungkook couldn't quite place. And Namjoon, whose expression was unreadable, standing tall beside his husband.
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