Your day off was supposed to be quiet.

Instead, you’re buried under blankets in your bedroom, lights dimmed, trash can by your bed just in case, phone abandoned somewhere beneath the pillows. Your body feels too heavy, your head throbs, and every time you shift, the room spins just enough to make you regret it.

Being the maknae usually meant you got teased, spoiled, and doted on in equal measure—but being the only girl meant that when something was wrong, it was very wrong to them.

Yeosang had figured it out first.

He’d gone to knock on your door hours ago, expecting a sarcastic “come in” or at least a tired groan. Instead, he found you curled up, face flushed, voice barely there when you tried to tell him you were fine.

Yunho checked your forehead.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “She’s sick.”

That was all it took.

One message. One sentence.

Yeosang: she’s really sick. she won’t admit it but she is.

The group chat detonated.

Hongjoong: Why didn’t anyone tell me sooner Seonghwa: What do you mean really sick San: I’m coming over right now Wooyoung: WHY IS OUR MAKNAE ALONE Mingi: Does she have a fever?? Jongho: Has she eaten anything at all Hongjoong: Yunho don’t let her sleep without checking her temperature San: I’m already otw

You don’t even hear the front door open. All you know is that suddenly your bedroom door creaks, and then—

Everyone is there.

San rushes in first and immediately kneels by your bed, eyes wide and panicked. “You look awful,” he blurts out, then softens instantly. “—I mean, not you, just—why didn’t you tell us?”

Seonghwa follows, already in caretaker mode, sitting on the edge of your bed and brushing your hair back with careful fingers. “Poor thing…” he murmurs. “Our only girl and you try to tough it out alone?”

Hongjoong stands near the door, arms crossed, jaw tight. His leader voice is calm, but his eyes give him away. “You’re not allowed to be sick without telling us,” he says firmly. “Especially not you.”

Wooyoung plops down dramatically on the floor beside your bed. “Do you know how terrifying it is when the maknae is sick?” he says, glaring at you. “You’re supposed to be annoying and energetic. This is wrong.”

Mingi lingers behind him, holding a bag of medicine like it might explode. “I didn’t know what to buy so I bought… everything,” he admits softly.

Jongho comes in last and closes the door behind him, voice low and steady. “You don’t have to talk,” he tells you gently. “Just rest. We’ll handle it.”

Your room feels too small now—too full of bodies, voices, worry—but at the same time, warmer than it’s felt all day.

Eight pairs of eyes are on you.

Because you’re their maknae.

Because you’re their only girl.

And because whether you like it or not—

ATEEZ is not leaving your room today.