Minho's stay at Seoul's Shittiest Psych Ward - not its real name, but that kid Iyennie had called it that the few months he'd been here and the name was much more catchy than its actual one, which Minho couldn't remember - could be described as many things, and the first adjective that Minho would use is 'boring'. It's so boring here. Even with patients coming and going, any people or events that he actually found interesting were few and far between.

Today was one of these events.

They'd known they were getting a new kid for a few days now, and there he is. Jisung is his name, if the whispers going around are to be believed, but no one knows anything else concrete about him. Minho is sure of this because he's made his rounds, turned his scariest expressions on everyone in search of any crumb on this Jisung. Minho had turned up empty, couldn't even find a conclusive answer about his birth year, and he desperately wants to punch someone about it if only that wouldn't end in him losing one of the few privileges months of playing nice have afforded him.

Now it's lunch, and Minho is buzzing with the long-forgotten feeling of excitement at getting to see Jisung's face a second time (the first barely even counted, a mere glimpse as Jisung was brought into the facility).