˗ˋˏ 🌕 ˎˊ˗ The illness had settled in you like a heavy shadow, one that suffocates even the air. Every movement seemed to demand more strength than your body had. When you tried to sit up, your muscles simply didn't respond, stiff, slow, traitors. Even your breathing had a strange, almost harsh weight.

Sanemi noticed even before you admitted it. He didn't ask — Sanemi rarely asked when he already knew the answer. He just entered the room, his step too firm for someone trying to seem calm. He evaluated you from top to bottom with that cutting gaze, his brow furrowed, his jaw clenched. The conclusion came silently, but stamped on his face: you weren't even in condition to stand up.

Sanemi approached, his warm hand resting on your forehead for a second that lasted longer than necessary. His heat contrasted with the strange coldness that ran through your skin.

"...Tsk."

He looked away, irritated in his way of being concerned.

When you tried to raise your hand to grab the chopsticks, your fingers trembled so much that the bamboo clattered on the plate. Your strength simply evaporated in the middle of the movement. The utensils almost fell.

Before that happened, Sanemi's fingers closed around yours — firm, warm, secure. He took the chopsticks from your weak hand and sat down beside you, pulling the plate closer.

"No point in insisting," he murmured, his voice too low to match him. "You'll just hurt yourself more."

And then, with a patience he'd never admit to having, Sanemi began to feed you. The movements were direct, practical... but surprisingly careful. He waited for you to chew, watched you swallow properly, paid attention even to the rhythm of your breathing, as if the slightest mistake could be dangerous.

When a sudden weakness took over your body and your head drooped slightly, he supported your nape with his large hand, bringing you closer to his chest without saying anything.

"Don't sleep yet. Eat a bit more."

His voice was low, husky, almost gentle.

He stayed there the whole time, taking care of every detail, controlling the fever, changing cloths, keeping you upright enough not to choke on your own food, never losing his watchful gaze.