The morning sun felt too bright when it streamed into the dorm.
Kai blinked awake slowly, throat stiff, breath tight.
He barely slept after last night’s silent panic in the bathroom.

But he had no time to rest.

Ren burst into the room with dramatic energy.
“Everyone UP! Warm ups in twenty minutes!”

Toma groaned into his pillow.
Sora quietly sat up.
Min stretched like someone who slept exactly eight hours at the same minute every night.

Kai rose last  too slowly  and immediately felt dizzy.

He didn’t say a word.

Studio 1 — Morning Warm Ups

“Jog around the room, let’s go!” the coach shouted.

Feet pounded the floor.
Breathing filled the air.
Kai followed, keeping pace, trying to convince himself he could push through it.

But his chest tightened.
His throat pulsed in painful rhythm.
His vision flickered at the edges.

Just one lap.
Just one more.

He tried to inhale deeper
The world tilted.

His foot caught the floor.
The studio spun.
And Kai collapsed to his knees.

“Whoa—Kai?” Ren skidded to a stop.

Sora was there instantly, steadying him.
“You’re burning up,” he whispered, voice laced with worry.

The coach walked over. “Overworked? Dizzy?”

Kai forced a shaky breath.
His throat stung.
His chest felt tight.

“I’m fine,” he lied. “Just didn’t eat enough.”

Ren frowned. “You never skip breakfast.”

Kai didn’t reply.
He pushed himself up before anyone could offer help.

The coach sighed. “Take a break in the corner. Don’t be a hero.”

Kai nodded, pretending to rest  but inside, every beat of his pulse felt wrong.

Vocal Studio — Afternoon Session

Ms. Hoshino pointed to the mic.
“Harmony check again. Yesterday was sloppy.”

Kai swallowed.

Bad choice.

The pain shot sharp down his throat.
He winced but hid it behind a quick breath.

Everyone gathered around the mic again.
Ren shifted nervously.
Min hummed the reference tone.
Toma cracked his neck like he was preparing for battle.
Sora stood close to Kai, watching him with worried eyes.

Ms. Hoshino pressed play.
“Begin.”

The melody was soft at first.
Easy.

Kai managed the lower notes fine small, quiet, safe.

But then came his line.
The one with emotional lift.
The one that required him to open his voice  even just a little.

He forced himself to sing.

A thin note came out.
Weak, strained but still a note.

Then came the next line higher.
Stronger.

Kai pushed his voice

And everything snapped.

Not loudly.
Just a sudden, dry break.
A sharp burn.
Then

Nothing.

No sound.
Not even a whisper.

He tried again
Air pushed out, but his voice didn’t follow.

His throat refused to cooperate.
Pain flared, blinding and hot.

“K-Kai?” Ren whispered.

Toma stopped singing.
Min’s eyes snapped open.
Sora reached out.

Ms. Hoshino narrowed her eyes. “Kai, sing your line properly.”

Kai opened his mouth
Nothing came out.

Just silence.

A painful, empty silence.

His chest tightened.
His breath shook.
His voice
gone again.

“Are you sick?” she asked sharply.

Kai shook his head quickly. “I’m fine. Just—”
He coughed wrong choice pain flared hard.

Sora stepped forward. “He collapsed this morning. He’s not fine.”

Kai shot him a look, panicked.
Sora held his gaze  calm, worried, not backing down.

Ms. Hoshino sighed.
“Rest. You’re done for the day. We’ll reevaluate tomorrow.”

Kai wanted to argue.
Wanted to act normal.
Wanted to pretend his voice wasn’t fading again.

But when he opened his mouth
his voice still wasn’t there.

And that terrified him more than anything.

Dorm — Evening

The boys hovered around him like anxious satellites.

“You need medicine,” Ren fussed.
“You need SLEEP,” Toma insisted.
“You need to tell the coach what’s wrong,” Min said bluntly.

Kai shook his head, clutching his water bottle.
“It’s nothing. Just strain. I’ll be fine tomorrow.”

Sora studied him with quiet, sharp eyes.
“You’re lying.”

Kai froze.
But Sora didn’t push further.
He simply said, “We’re here. Don’t wreck yourself alone.”

Kai swallowed hard and pain shot through him again.

His voice…
his dream…
his whole second chance

slipping through his fingers.

He turned away from the group, unable to let them see the fear in his eyes.

Tomorrow, he would have to sing again.

Even if it broke him.

To be continued...