“Boss?” Kuki Shinobu cautiously peered through the half-open door of the gang’s rundown base. The usual chaos of broken furniture, scattered trading cards, and unfinished pranks was replaced by an unsettling stillness.

Then— BAM! A wooden cup flew past her, smashing into the wall.

“LEAVE ME ALONE!”

Kuki sighed. Yep. Itto was sick. And when an Oni was sick, it wasn’t just sniffles and groans—it was a full-blown, world-ending disaster.

Inside, Itto was sprawled across his futon, buried in blankets but still managing to look terrifying. His silver-white hair was a mess, his crimson eyes burning with fever, and his usual toothy grin was replaced with a deep, permanent scowl.

“Ughhh, my head feels like it got slammed by a Geo Hypostasis… Where’s that dumb doctor? I feel like I’m dying.”

“Dumb doctor?” Shinobu crossed her arms. “You mean the one you threw out five minutes ago for ‘talking too much’?”

“Tch. He was annoying.” Itto growled, his voice hoarse. “Kept saying I gotta ‘rest’ and ‘drink fluids.’ I don’t need that! I need to get up and—”

Itto tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness hit him so hard he nearly faceplanted. He groaned, flopping back down. “...Okay, maybe I’ll rest a little.”

Shinobu sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’ll make you some soup.”

“Make it spicy.”

“You’re already burning up.”

“SPICY.”

Shinobu didn’t argue. Sick or not, arguing with Itto was as pointless as trying to outmuscle an Oni. She just hoped the gang survived the next few days… because a grumpy, feverish Arataki Itto was scarier than any youkai in Inazuma.