Joy's eyes brimmed fast, the silence breaking with her voice cracking high and sharp.
"France? France!?"
She stomped once, the echo too loud in the frozen room.
"You—you're just going to leave me?! After everything? After—after years?!"
Her words tangled with hiccuping breaths, tears already gathering and spilling hot down her cheeks. She rushed closer, grabbing Yu's sleeve, shaking him as if to physically demand the answer.
"Why, Yuvin!? Why would you leave me?"
Yu's throat clenched. The truth—
"I'm pregnant with your brother's baby, your nephew."
—bubbled to his lips like a scream he couldn't stop. His tongue forced down hard, biting into the flesh until pain seared sharp and blood pooled.
The iron taste flooded his mouth.
Joy gasped.
"Yu!?"
Her hands dropped from his sleeve, trembling.
The sound of something snapping carried across the room. Izan's pencil, broken in his grip. He didn't speak right away. His gaze stayed fixed on Yu's mouth, on the thin trail of red slipping down his chin. His chest rose and fell with measured restraint, though something stormed deep behind his eyes.
Yu pressed his palm over his lips, blood smearing. His silence was frantic, guilty.
Joy's panic surged. She reached for tissues, napkins, anything within arm's reach, babbling.
"It's okay, it's okay, you're okay, right? Just—stop the bleeding, don't talk, you don't have to say anything else, I shouldn't have—Izannnn, help!"
Izan moved quietly, his touch steady as he guided Yu to sit, taking Joy's frantic bundle of tissues and pressing them gently to Yu's mouth. His voice was low, heavy with something Joy couldn't read.
"Don't force it. Just… breathe."
It was then Rin appeared, his arms still stiff from carrying Theo's dead weight up to his room. He stepped into the doorway and froze.
The scene before him was chaos:
Joy's tear-streaked face, Izan kneeling close with bloody tissues, Yu pale and smudged with red, trembling from the effort of holding back his words.
Rin blinked.
"…What the hell did I just walk into?"
The question hung there, the messy chaos refusing to explain itself.
Rin hesitated only a moment before moving forward, his polished shoes tapping quick against the polished floor. His voice cut through the frantic air, clipped but not unkind.
"What happened here?"
His dull eyes flicked between Joy's tears, Izan's grim silence, and Yu's hand smeared with blood.
"Was there a fight? Did someone hurt you?"
Yu tried to shake his head, but Joy blurted through hiccuping sobs.
"He—he said he's going to leave! He's going to leave me, Rin! And then—and then—"
Her words tangled as she gestured at the blood.
"And this! He bit his tongue trying not to tell me why—why would he keep secrets from me!?"
Her voice pitched higher, the kind of hurt that tore at the air.
Rin frowned, not entirely following, but the blood was enough to override everything else.
"Alright. Enough."
His tone brooked no argument. He bent down, taking Yu's elbow gently but firmly, guiding him up from the seat.
"You can't keep bleeding here. Come on, we'll get you to the bathroom."
Yu's hazel eyes flicked helplessly at Joy, her sparkling face streaked in tears and rage, then to Izan whose gaze remained dark and quiet, following every step.
"Wait—wait!"
Joy lurched forward, her voice breaking on a wail.
"You can't just take him away! He hasn't answered me, Rin! He hasn't told me why! Why would he leave me—?"
Her fists curled, trembling.
"I need to know!"
Rin's grip only tightened, not cruel, but decisive. He half-guided, half-dragged Yu toward the hall, his low voice meant only for Yu's ears.
"Don't talk yet, you'll get blood everywhere. Let's clean you up."
Behind them, Joy's voice cracked again, filling the estate's hall with her raw spiraling hurt.
"Yuvin—you can't leave me!"
The words chased after Yu even as Rin closed the bathroom door behind them.
---
The bathroom was quiet save for Yu's uneven sobs. Rin crouched before him, hands steady even if his eyes flickered with unease. He had a clean towel pressed lightly against Yu's mouth, blotting the blood that still seeped from the gash on his tongue.
"Don't move—just hold it here."
Rin murmured, shifting closer.
"You'll make it worse if you fuss."
But Yu couldn't stop. Tears slipped faster, his chest trembling with ragged breaths.
"I—I didn't mean—"
His words slurred, the cut making his tongue clumsy, but the desperation was raw.
"It's—France—studying abroad, an oppor…opportunity. I wanted it—but—Joy—she—she hates me now. I hurt her."
Rin's brows pinched, but he kept his hands gentle, carefully guiding Yu's trembling ones to hold the towel firmer against his mouth.
"Slow down. One thing at a time."
Yu shook his head, voice breaking.
"I'm—not sure—I'm good enough. Not sure I'll win. If I don't… everyone will know—"
"Know what?"
Rin pressed cautiously, his tone softer than his words.
But Yu only dissolved further, shoulders curling inward as sobs shook his frame, his voice a choked stammer of two words.
"I can't—I can't—I can't—"
His tears fell hot against Rin's wrists.
Panic sparked in Rin's chest. He wasn't trained for this—he was Theo's assistant, not a nurse, not a counselor—but he forced himself to keep calm. He wiped gently at Yu's tears with the edge of the towel, murmuring whatever reassurance came to mind.
"Breathe. Just breathe. It's alright, you're not alone. Let's get the bleeding to stop first, okay? Then we'll figure it out."
Yu's sobs didn't stop, but he let Rin tilt his chin, dabbing carefully at the cut with antibiotics, coaxing him into steadier breaths.
---
Meanwhile, in the living room, the atmosphere remained heavy. Joy sat collapsed on the couch, face streaked red and blotchy, clutching at Izan's sleeve like she might sink without it.
"He's leaving me…"
She hiccupped again, voice raw.
"Going to France—and he won't tell me why."
Izan shifted, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, firm and steady as he pulled her against him. He let her cry, his own gaze turned distant, a storm quiet in his eyes. When her sobs dulled to sniffles, he finally spoke.
"Joy…"
He said lowly, tilting his head so she would look at him.
"Why is it so important to know his reason?"
She blinked, eyes shining, lip trembling.
"Because—we're best friends! Best friends tell each other everything. Since diapers! Every good day, every bad day—he's been there. I've been there. When he came out, when I cried myself sick the day my parents died—everything."
Her hands fisted.
"If he starts keeping secrets now… then it'll end. We'll stop being best friends. And then I'll be alone. I'll lose him."
Fresh tears spilled. But Izan gently cupped her chin, making her meet his gaze.
"It's alright for friends to keep secrets."
He said softly.
"Especially when it's hard for them to share. You heard him—he tried. Maybe one day he'll tell you, but not today. If you're really his best friend, you'll give him time. That's what being a real best friend means."
Joy's breath hitched. She hadn't thought of it that way, and the guilt of her outburst settled heavily in her chest. Slowly, she nodded, wiping her eyes.
"You're right… I shouldn't have made him—"
She hiccupped again.
"Literally bite his tongue just to stop himself. That's not fair of me."
Her tears faded into determination, her fists clenching tighter.
"Then I'll make it up to him. I'll definitely help him win this runway assignment. No matter what!"
Izan smiled faintly, though his eyes lingered troubled.
"That's more like you."
Joy sniffled, her energy bouncing back, her mind already spinning with plans. But Izan held her quietly, his own thoughts darker.
Yu stepped out of the bathroom at last, shoulders hunched, face blotchy and streaked from tears, his lips tender and a little swollen, his tongue still numb from where his own teeth had cut it. Rin trailed quietly behind him, watchful but unsure, as though afraid one wrong word would send Yu crumbling again.
The living room quieted when Joy looked up. She shot to her feet immediately, guilt etched across her face. For a long, fragile moment, the two best friends only stood there, staring at each other.
Joy broke first. Her voice was soft, tremulous.
"I'm sorry, Yuvin. For pushing so hard. For demanding answers you weren't ready to give. If you don't want to tell me, that's fine. Really. I just…"
Her eyes welled again.
"…I just hope one day you will. And until then, you better send me pictures of France every single day. Video chat me every chance you get. Promise me that."
Yu's chest clenched painfully. The tears came again, hot and fast, spilling down his cheeks despite everything in him that wanted to keep control. The pressure in his chest broke loose in a single, desperate whisper.
"I'm pregnant."
The words slipped like a stone into still water.
The room froze. Joy blinked once, twice, her mouth falling open soundlessly. Izan stiffened beside her, his jaw tightening. And Rin—still hovering just behind Yu—went pale, eyes wide, caught between disbelief and the instinctive need to manage the fallout.
Yu's breath hitched. He prayed—silently, fervently—that Joy wouldn't ask the next question. The one that could unravel everything.
"Who's the father?"
But the silence was thick, suffocating, and no one spoke. It stretched, unbearably taut, until Izan blurted first. His voice cracked slightly, caught between confusion and disbelief.
"Wait—how can you even be pregnant? You're a man!"
Rin, flustered but unable to resist, added on, his words stumbling as his eyes flicked over Yu's delicate figure.
"Are you… really a man? You're so cute, and your figure—if you dressed the part, you could rival any woman. With the right outfit, you'd—"
Thud.
Yu, crimson from cheeks to neck, didn't even think. He grabbed the nearest pillow off the couch and hurled it square at Rin's chest. The assistant staggered back a step, startled. Izan clamped his mouth shut immediately, looking chastised, as if the pillow had smacked him too.
Joy's gasp cut the air.
"Pregnant—?"
Her eyes went impossibly wide, then brimmed with tears before she half-squealed, half-laughed.
"Oh my god, Yu! This is—this is amazing! You'll be a mom! Who cares how it happened? This is perfect! The dad, who—"
She clutched her cheeks, sparkling with the giddy glow of her imagination running rampant—then, abruptly, she froze. Caught herself. The last time she spiraled like this, she'd pushed Yu to the breaking point.
Joy lowered her hands slowly, her voice gentler.
"No. I'm doing it again, aren't I? I don't need to know who the father is. Not unless you want to tell me."
She reached out, wrapping her arm around Yu's shoulders with a protective, sisterly squeeze. Her next words were firmer, but no less warm.
"But I do need the details. Every single one. You're not going through this alone."
Joy tilted her head toward the boys.
"Rin. Sneak Izan out. This time, for reals."
Izan opened his mouth to protest but shut it again when Rin tugged his sleeve. He looked back at Yu once, conflicted, before letting himself be guided out.
Joy, meanwhile, swept Yu toward her room, whispering conspiratorially like they were little kids again sneaking off for secret gossip.
"C'mon. Girl talk in my room."
---
Joy wasted no time once her bedroom door clicked shut. She spun on Yu with sparkling eyes, half a grin breaking through her earlier tears.
"Okay! Out with it. Everything. Details."
Yu blinked, still red-faced, clutching the hem of his sweater like a shield.
"Details like…?"
"Don't play dumb with me, mister! Or—miss? Or… whatever you are right now."
Joy teased, voice sing-song. She plopped down on her bed, patting the space beside her.
"Tell me everything about the pregnancy! How long? How did you even find out? What's it like?"
Yu hesitated, hovering near the edge of her quilt, cheeks burning.
"It's… not that interesting. I just… I noticed some things. My body felt different. Sore. Tired."
He bit his lip.
"I bought some tests. Took them…"
Joy gasped dramatically, clasping her hands.
"How many?"
Yu groaned softly.
"…All of them. The whole pack of five."
Joy laughed so loud she fell back onto her pillows.
"That is so you. Overachieving even with pregnancy tests."
She sat up again, eyes gleaming.
"Okay, so, what are your symptoms like? Are the cravings weird yet? How's the morning sickness? Mood swings yet?"
"Mostly… exhaustion. But also… more energy sometimes. It's confusing..."
Yu admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.
"And, uh… hormones."
He looked away pointedly.
Joy smirked knowingly but let him skip that part.
"When did you notice the first big change?"
Yu swallowed. His mind flickered to DK01's alerts, to the gnawing hunger deep in his gut, to Theo's hand pressing against his stomach that night.
"…About two weeks ago."
Joy squealed, hugging a pillow to her chest.
"So it's really happening. My best friend is going to be a mom—or uh…a parent!"
Her eyes softened, suddenly tender.
"What's that like?"
Yu faltered. His lips trembled before he answered.
"…Scary. But… kind of exciting too. I—I like the idea of kids. I just…"
He shook his head, leaving the rest unsaid.
Joy reached out, tugging at his sweater hem.
"Can I?"
She asked, eyes shining with reverence.
Yu blinked.
"What?"
"Your belly."
She smiled.
"I know it's early but… I just want to feel. Please?"
He flushed crimson, but with a resigned sigh, he nodded.
"It's… still flat. Don't expect anything."
Joy didn't care. She pressed her palm gently to his stomach through the thin fabric, her grin softening into awe.
"Still. You're really carrying life. A future girl or boy…"
Yu's throat tightened, eyes burning. He forced a chuckle.
"Or both, heh…just kidding."
Joy gasped so loud it echoed, already plotting names in her head.
Joy leaned in, practically nose to nose, still stroking Yu's sweater-covered stomach with an almost reverent grin.
"Okay, okay, enough baby talk for now."
She bounced off the bed, going to her desk where stacks of notebooks and pens already littered the surface.
"We've got something just as important to do—your runway assignment!"
Yu blinked, tugging his sweater hem back down.
"…Right."
Joy spun on her heel, finger raised like she was about to deliver a verdict.
"But—one more thing before we dive in."
Yu groaned.
"Joy…"
"Please."
Her tone softened, eyes wide and earnest in a way Yu couldn't ignore.
"It's important."
Yu hesitated, his stomach fluttering.
"…Fine. Ask."
Joy clasped her hands together, as if bracing herself. Then, in a quiet voice, she asked.
"Are you going to France… because of the father?"
Yu froze. Every thought in his mind went skittering like broken glass. He swallowed, weighing the risk, then finally—slowly—he nodded.
That was all Joy needed. Her face bloomed into a smile, not of giddy mischief this time, but genuine warmth.
"Okay…"
She whispered.
"That's enough for me."
She clapped her hands, suddenly brimming with determination again.
"Now, let's make sure you pass and get that spot!"
She dragged out rolls of fabric from her closet, a box of ribbons and trims, even some glitter glue from old projects. Yu sat on the floor cross-legged, sketchbook open, pencil flying across the page as Joy rattled off ideas like a machine gun.
"Silk! No, no, maybe too obvious. But if you pair it with leather—ahhh! Edgy!"
Yu chuckled despite himself, his pencil scratching fast to keep up. Half-finished sketches piled up quickly, some with broad outlines, others with wild details but no structure.
Joy leaned over his shoulder, her ponytail brushing his arm.
"Oh! That one! The hemline—you should do something asymmetrical, it'll look so Paris."
Yu rolled his eyes but kept drawing. His energy surged and waned in waves, his body whispering that he was only two weeks in and shouldn't be overexerting. But Joy's laughter, her bouncing energy, and the way she treated this like a secret shared mission kept him going.
Sketch after sketch, fabric swatches littered around them, ribbons tangled under their knees, glitter accidentally smudged on Yu's cheek—Joy's room transformed into a chaotic little workshop, glowing with possibility.
For a fleeting moment, Yu forgot about Theo, about Callen, about Adrian, about DK01's warnings. There was only Joy, smiling brightly, and the sketches of clothes that might carry him across the sea.
The little workshop chaos of Joy's room had settled into a rhythm—paper scraps tossed aside, fabric swatches layered in mismatched piles, Yu's sketchbook pages fluttering with half-finished ideas while Joy gleefully stuck post-it notes all over his work.
"Paris will fall in love with you!"
Joy declared, slapping a neon pink note right over a sketch that Yu had already decided to scrap.
Yu huffed, rubbing his pencil-smudged cheek.
"That one isn't even finished."
"Exactly! A masterpiece in progress!"
Joy twirled a ribbon dramatically before collapsing onto the carpet beside him. Their laughter bubbled together, easy and warm, until the sharp ping of Yu's phone broke the moment.
He glanced down—group chat notification.
Callen: Yo Yu, what's for dinner?
Adrian: ^ Seconding this.
Yu's eyes went wide. He checked the time.
"Oh no…"
He had been here all day. The sun was already sinking outside Joy's window, painting the room in orange light.
"We didn't even—"
Yu clutched his sketchbook to his chest, guilt spiking.
"We didn't even decide on the theme! How am I supposed to—"
Joy plopped her hand right over his, stopping the spiral. Her expression softened.
"Yuvin. Breathe."
He did, shakily.
"You've got two whole weeks before the final runway."
She squeezed his hand.
"We'll make it work. I promise."
Her certainty washed over him like warm sunlight. Yu exhaled, shoulders finally lowering, though his heart still raced.
"…Thanks."
He whispered. Then, more firmly.
"Thank you. For today. For… everything."
Before he could stop himself, Yu pulled Joy into a hug—tight, almost desperate.
Joy blinked, then grinned and hugged him back, swaying him side to side.
"What are best friends for?"
She murmured, her voice warm and steady.
For a few precious breaths, Yu let himself melt into it—the comfort, the promise, the reminder that at least here, with her, he wasn't alone.
Yu and Joy lingered in that hug far longer than either expected—Joy nuzzling her cheek into Yu's shoulder, Yu clinging to her like if he let go, the air would swallow him whole. Finally, Joy loosened her hold and tugged Yu gently toward the door.
"Come on, mama bear."
She teased softly, though her eyes shone.
"Let's get you home before my brother figures out your here and decides to storm after you again."
Yu chuckled weakly, letting her guide him down the stairs. She hovered like a guardrail, her hand steady at his back as though he might stumble. By the time they reached the estate's grand entrance, Joy looked reluctant to let him leave at all.
"You better text me when you get home."
She said, wagging a finger.
"I will."
Yu gave her a small wave, lips quirking into a tired but genuine smile.
Joy, beaming again, waved both arms high above her head like a child, watching him disappear down the walk before finally ducking back inside.
---
By the time Yu reached his own front door, his heart was still pounding from the sprint home. He steadied himself, ran a hand through his hair, then pushed the door open.
Inside, the tension hit him immediately.
Callen was on the couch, sprawled as usual but with less of yesterday's exhaustion—soreness still lingered in the tightness of his movements, but at least he could grin again. He perked up at the sight of Yu.
Adrian, however, stood near the dining table. He was upright, dressed down, but every step betrayed stiffness. He masked it with his usual cool reserve, but Yu could see it—the faint hitch in his stance, the way his hand lingered on the back of a chair for balance.
Two pairs of eyes landed on Yu the moment he stepped inside.
Callen's grin widened, playful and hungry. Adrian's gaze was quieter, but heavier—piercing, unreadable, simmering beneath its stillness.
Yu froze in the doorway, caught between them.
"...I'm back."
He murmured, voice barely audible over the air that thickened around the three of them.
The silence that greeted Yu's return was sharp enough to cut.
Callen leaned up from the couch, one arm draped lazily over the cushion as if nothing in the world could rattle him. But his green eyes, usually sparkling with unbothered mischief, tracked Yu like a hawk. He took in every detail—the flushed cheeks from rushing, the faint cling of fabric to Yu's form, the way his breath still hitched. His grin spread wider, smug and reckless, like he'd already claimed Yu.
Adrian, by contrast, did not move. He stood rigid near the table, shoulders straight despite the stiffness of his body. His gaze was steady, dark, unreadable. Where Callen's energy brimmed with open play, Adrian's simmered cold, heavy, a weight pressing silently against Yu's chest. He looked less at Yu's face and more through him, as though calculating what had happened in the hours Yu was gone—and who had laid claim to him in that span.
The air between the roommates thrummed, two silent storms building on either side of Yu.
Yu's lips parted, searching for an anchor before the silence could implode.
"Well…"
He said brightly, forcing his voice to smooth,
"Since we're all here… why don't I start dinner?"
Without waiting for a reply, Yu slipped out of his shoes, dropped his bag onto the side table, and moved into the kitchen. The familiar rhythm of setting out pots, rinsing vegetables, and measuring rice grounded him like a mantra. He let the sounds of chopping, boiling water, and sizzling oil fill the silence that had been threatening to crush him.
Behind him, Callen flopped noisily back against the couch, as though signaling he was fine with Yu fussing like this—as long as the attention came back to him later. Adrian, however, remained still, his footsteps finally moving to pull out a chair at the dining table. He sat down with deliberate calm, hands folded in front of him, eyes fixed on Yu's back.
Yu hummed softly to himself—half a tune, half a distraction—pretending not to feel the dual weight of their stares as he stirred the pan.
---
The first stretch of dinner passed in something close to normalcy—Yu's steady rhythm smoothing the edges of the tension like a stone pressed to silk. He ladled rice, laid out side dishes, and even teased Callen to chew slower before he made himself sick. For a time, the only sound was the clink of chopsticks, the soft hum of Yu's tune under his breath, the quiet comfort of a home-cooked meal.
But the silence could only hold so long.
Callen leaned back in his chair with a grin too sharp to be harmless, chopsticks dangling between his fingers as he jabbed them in Adrian's direction.
"Look at you, still stiff as a board. Don't tell me our little Yu wore you out that badly. Couldn't even lift your fork this morning, right?"
His voice dripped with mockery, but his eyes burned with something rawer.
"Guess you're weaker than I thought."
Adrian's jaw ticked. He set his chopsticks down with deliberate calm, his gaze a blade when it finally lifted to Callen.
"Weak?"
His voice was smooth but tight.
"You collapsed like a child after only a couple of hours. On a couch, no less. I lasted far longer. That's the difference—control. Discipline."
He tilted his head, lips curving in the barest ghost of a smile.
"Yu deserves more than someone who passes out pitifully in the middle of the living room."
The chopsticks in Callen's hand snapped with a crack. His grin faltered into a snarl as he slammed both palms against the table, the sharp—
Bang!
—rattling the dishes. The shock traveled up his arms, muscles screaming in protest, but he didn't flinch. He leaned forward instead, green eyes blazing.
"Say that again."
The air went taut, a storm on the cusp of breaking—until Yu's voice cut clean through it.
"No fighting at the table."
His tone was soft, but sharp enough to bite. He didn't look at either of them, only calmly scooped another spoonful of rice onto his plate.
"If you can't manage that, then I won't cook for you anymore."
Silence.
Callen froze, his chest heaving with contained frustration before he slumped back into his chair with a pout. His pride was wounded, his arms still throbbing from the slam, but he shoved another heap of food into his mouth, chewing furiously. A new mantra flickered in his head.
'Stamina, stamina, stamina.'
Adrian picked up his chopsticks again, movements slow, deliberate, unaffected. He ate without comment, his face composed, though beneath the calm his dark eyes simmered—rage and something heavier seething just under the surface.
Yu hummed again, steady, as though nothing had happened, keeping the rhythm of normalcy alive. But the meal's warmth had shifted—the tension only buried, not gone.