ᴘᴀʀᴀʟʟᴇʟ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛꜱ | 𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝙽𝚊𝚛𝚊

The One with The Threads 💕

Bold - English
Normal - Korean
Bold + Underline - Japanese
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Nara stood at the back of the building, the evening wind catching wisps of her hair as she braced her palms on the cold metal railing of the emergency stairwell. Her chest rose and fell unevenly, her eyes glassy, her breaths short.

Yuta found her there minutes later—he didn’t say a word at first. Just stepped beside her, close enough for her to know she wasn’t alone.

Only when she exhaled shakily did he speak.

“They shouldn’t have done that.”

His voice was low, steady. Not angry. Just… calm. Exactly what she needed.

“I can’t even breathe around them anymore,” Nara whispered, voice cracking. “It’s like everything I do makes things worse. I walk into a room and suddenly they forget we’re teammates. They forget we’re supposed to be friends.”

Yuta nodded, his gaze on the distant lights of the city. “Because they’re not sure how to feel around you. And they don’t know how to admit it.”

“I never asked them to feel anything,” she said, voice rising with frustration. “I just wanted to belong. I worked to belong. And now all I do is ruin everything.”

“You don’t ruin anything, Nara.”

Yuta finally turned toward her, gently reaching out to cup the side of her face. She instinctively leaned into his touch.

“You anchor people without realizing it,” he said softly. “You brighten a room just by being in it. They’re not angry at you. They’re just scared. Scared of losing you. Scared that someone else already has more of you.”

Tears finally spilled over her cheeks.

“I hate this,” she whispered.

“I know.”

He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers, both of them breathing in the quiet between their storms.

“I don’t care what’s happening with the others,” Yuta murmured. “But I want you to remember this—when the noise gets too loud, you come find me. No questions, no pressure. Just me, you, and silence if that’s what you need.”

And for the first time that night, Nara felt her heartbeat slow. Just a little.

---

Meanwhile...

Back in the studio, Nathan shut the rehearsal room door behind him with a quiet click. He crossed his arms and faced the trio—Johnny, Jaehyun, Taeyong—his expression unreadable.

“You want to talk about trust?” he began, voice calm, but firm. “Because right now, none of you are giving her a reason to trust you.”

They looked at him, stunned.

Nathan walked slowly toward them. “You’ve known her for how long? For 4 months?! You trained with her. Bled with her. Watched her break and rebuild herself again. And yet, the second something you didn’t know about her showed up, you all crumbled.”

“She—” Johnny started.

“Stop,” Nathan cut him off. “This isn’t about defending yourselves. This is about realizing what your silence is doing to her.”

Jaehyun looked away, jaw tight. Taeyong’s brows furrowed, struggling between guilt and confusion.

Nathan’s voice didn’t rise. It didn’t need to. Every word cut like clean glass.