(02 Days Before the Inter-Academy Nationals)
"Augh… I'm dead. Honestly, there's no hope for me anymore," Claude groaned, ever the dramatic one.
The boys were sprawled across Poseidon's hospital room, some stretched out on the mattresses laid on the floor, others slumped in chairs and couches. They had all crashed there for the night, turning the sterile hospital space into an impromptu sleepover.
"You don't understand, Poseidon," Claude continued, pressing his legs out in mock agony.
"Helios works us like a corporate boss. Completely ruthless!" He jabbed a finger toward Helios, who sat lost in thought, his ever-present human anatomy encyclopedia open before him.
"We have to work hard. It's not his fault," Haadi muttered through a yawn, visibly exhausted, "Have you seen the teams? Aitcheson Academy, Roots Millennium, Atia Eden City, Crescent International… all bringing their best for the nationals. One slip-up, and we're out before we even get started."
From his hospital bed, Poseidon gazed down at them, absently running his fingers through Ezekiel's soft curls. Ezekiel, curled beside him like a cat, let out a small, content sigh, unaware of the conversation unfolding around him. Poseidon smiled faintly.
"Practice matches for two straight weeks and relentless training every day. It's no joke. And 'this' a top of everything," Ebraham sighed, finally shoving his books into his bag and switching off the desk lamp. With a weary groan, he flopped onto the mattress.
"Done with the homework already?" Mirza teased, poking his cheek.
"I'm spent, so don't even ask," Ebraham muttered, drawing laughter from the others.
"Haiz… it's been three months already," Mirza mused.
"Yeah, time slipped through our fingers like sand," Ebraham yawned, his eyes growing heavy.
Claude shifted uneasily, stealing a glance at Poseidon. He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. The stark reality sinking in. The absence was glaring—his gear, once always placed beside Helios's, was nowhere in sight. The cricket balls he never parted with during practice were missing too.
It was as if everything that once tethered Poseidon to the game had been pushed into some distant, forgotten corner, untouched, unacknowledged, daring not to pull out. His condition had undoubtedly worsened. His room felt oddly vacant, strangely lonely.
Still Claude took a deep breath, starting cautiously, "Hey… little sea," his voice lacking its usual bravado, "You won't be there with us this time, will you?"
The room fell silent.
Poseidon's fingers stilled in Ezekiel's hair. Helios, too, looked up from his book, watching them silently.
"Hey! We weren't supposed to bring that up," Haadi hissed, swatting Claude on the back. He turned to Poseidon, as if to change the subject, but Claude clicked his tongue. "I'm just asking. It's not like I'm forcing him to come," he muttered.
Haadi and Mirza exchanged a sigh.
Poseidon looked at Claude, then without a word, lifted his hand, raising it toward the IV stand. The clear tube snaked into his veins, tethering him to the hospital bed, the half-full bottle of fluid swaying gently above.
Claude swallowed hard, his face falling into an expression of regret, but he clenched his jaw, refusing to say anything more.
Helios narrowed his gaze, but instead of speaking, he turned back to his book. Even so, the tension in his posture betrayed the turmoil within.
"I'm sorry," Poseidon said softly.
The four of them snapped their heads toward him, startled.
"Hey, you don't have to—" Mirza began, but Poseidon cut him off.
"I know how much this means to all of us… but all I can do now is push you forward." His voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable sorrow behind it. "I don't have a choice." His lashes lowered, his shoulders subtly tensing. "Even if my heart wills it… my body won't comply." His last words came out in a whisper, barely audible over the steady hum of the hospital machines.
Claude exhaled sharply. Ebraham, Haadi, and Mirza remained silent.
"Tch, if that's the case, then you better watch us," Claude finally declared.
Poseidon smiled, "Of course… but from the television."
The four of them raised their brows, unimpressed.
"Yeah, right," Haadi muttered, rolling his eyes.
"Argh! I swear, if I could, I'd rip that illness out of you myself," Mirza growled, fists clenching in frustration, "It pisses me off more than I can even explain."
"To think you've lived with it since birth? You deserve a Nobel Prize for that," Ebraham mumbled, already half-asleep.
Poseidon shook his head in quiet amusement, "Silly."
Haadi turned his attention to Helios, who hadn't said a word, "And you," he called out.
Helios, still staring at his book, raised a brow in silent acknowledgment.
"If you're just going to bury your nose in that thing even when we're here, why invite us in the first place? You should've invited your encyclopedia's friends instead," Haadi added.
Claude and Mirza blinked before bursting into laughter.
Poseidon chuckled softly.
Helios exhaled, finally shutting the book, "What is it?"
"What is it, my foot!" Claude grumbled. He sprang up, grabbed Helios by the wrist, and yanked him off the couch, sending him tumbling onto the mattress below.
Laughter erupted around the room as Helios sat up with a sigh, "Could you all evolve beyond caveman behavior and act like civilized humans for once?"
"Tch, quit it. You're a Captain back at the Society. No one is listening to your orders here," Mirza grinned, "So deal with it."
Helios turned to Poseidon, who smiled at the scene. But the smile faded as a shadow passed over Helios' face. He lowered his head slightly, his complexion turning pale.
"Hey…" Ebraham murmured drowsily, blinking up at Helios. His messy hair fell into his sleep-laden eyes as he took in the shift in Helios' expression.
Helios exhaled softly, reaching out to pat Ebraham's back.
"Don't make that face…" Ebraham whispered, "We all know something's on your mind, so just say it."
Helios stiffened.
The room, already quiet, grew more still. Poseidon and the others turned toward him, their attention sharpening.
"The worst thing you can do is pretend, so stop," Ebraham continued, sluggishly pushing himself up. He swayed slightly before settling beside Helios, absentmindedly brushing the strands of hair from his face.
Helios kept his gaze low, searching for an excuse, something to deflect, something to push the moment away like he always did. But this time, nothing came.
Poseidon let out a slow breath. "Is it about me?" he asked, his voice gentle but firm.
Helios looked up and met the deep blue of Poseidon's eyes, steady, unwavering. He quickly glanced away.
Claude's palm landed on Helios' back in a quiet pat. "So it is," he muttered, "What is it?"
Helios swallowed hard, his hands resting on his knees, fingers tightening. His eyes locked onto the mattress as if the words he needed were buried somewhere in its fabric.
Poseidon tilted his head slightly, pressing, "Heli…" His voice was soft but insistent, "Just tell me. I'd rather listen to it then have you all awkward around me."
The hesitation in Helios' shoulders melted into an anxious resolve. There was no point in dragging this out any longer. "It's about your condition," he murmured.
Poseidon nodded slowly, "I see. What about it?" his voice eerily calm, as if waiting for an impending storm.
Silence.
The rustling of leaves outside, the soft drip of IV medication, the hum of the ceiling fan. Small, distant sounds that suddenly felt unbearably loud. Ezekiel, curled up beside Poseidon, shifted closer, resting his head against Poseidon's thigh shielding his eyes from the room's lighting.
Then Helios spoke, "It's about your surgery."
The walls seemed to close in. Poseidon's heart slammed against his ribs. "S-surgery…?" The word barely made it past his lips, foreign and terrifying all at once. His fingers curled into the bedsheets, breath catching in his throat.
Across the room, Claude, Mirza, Haadi, and Ebraham exchanged glances. Silent, uneasy, words stuck in their throats. Helios watched as the color drained from Poseidon's face. Without hesitation, he stood, crouching before him and resting a firm hand on Poseidon's knee.
"Hey, relax," Helios urged, voice steady, "It's going to be okay."
Poseidon forced himself to inhale, but the panic clawed at him from the inside, he swallowed hard, his voice barely a whisper, "Is it serious?"
Helios' jaw clenched for a fraction of a second before he softened his expression, forcing a small, guilty smile. A shield against the storm brewing in Poseidon's mind, "Yeah. It is."
Poseidon's stomach twisted. Fear, sharp and suffocating, coiled around his chest, making it hard to breathe. "T-then how can you say it's okay?" his voice cracked, fists trembling as they clenched against the sheets.
Sensing the shift in Poseidon's body, Ezekiel stirred, groggily rubbing his eyes. The tension in the air made his sleep-clouded mind stir with confusion. "Captain… Vice-Captain?" he mumbled, glancing between them.
"I'm sorry..." Helios whispered, his own heart pounding with confusion and dread. He had never expected things to take this turn. He had always believed they were moving forward, that things were improving. But the news had ripped away his peace, leaving him sleepless, helpless.