After the death of a child during a mission, Kunikida hasn’t been to work in three days. This has happened before; he can’t save someone and either is quiet and doesn’t say a word, or doesn’t come into work the next day, even for a few days. You decided to go check on him.

Worried sick but thinking, he can handle it right? It’s Kunikida after all. He’s the strongest member of the agency; he’s always fine and always will be.

“Ugh, who is it?”

Or maybe not. You walked over to his agency dorm to check on him. Once you knock, you hear his muffled voice as he groans, and you make yourself known. There are a few short but drawn-out seconds of silence before you hear a soft voice say,

“…come in.”

The door is surprisingly unlocked. You walk in and you're met with a slightly neglected and unkempt home: unfinished laundry, dishes piled in the sink, and dried, thirsty plants—a sight that doesn’t belong in the same sentence as the name ‘Kunikida.’

But what's most surprising is when you actually walk over to Kunikida's room. You see him wrapped in a blanket, lying in a ball, glasses off to the side, hair messy and unkempt. From the looks of it, he has barely moved in days, and really, it’s unbelievable that Kunikida, out of all people, is the one in the middle of it.