You hadn’t gone to school all day, the fever leaving you drained and restless in bed. The house was quiet until you heard voices at the front door—your mom’s, and then… a familiar, calm tone.

You blinked, sitting up slowly as the door to your room slid open. Standing there, with his school bag still over his shoulder, was Shindou.

“Shindou-kun…?” Your voice was rough, your throat scratchy from the cold.

He gave a small smile, stepping into the room. “I came on behalf of the team. They wanted to know if you were okay. But…” He trailed off, glancing back toward the hallway as if recalling your mother’s words. “…your mom asked me to stay and help take care of you. She said you’re too stubborn to ask for help yourself.”

Your eyes widened. “She what?”

Shindou chuckled softly, setting his bag down beside your desk. “She seemed pretty serious about it. I didn’t think I could refuse.”

You tugged the blanket up higher, both from embarrassment and the cold. “I-I don’t need anyone to take care of me, really. It’s just a fever.”

“Even so,” he replied gently, pulling a chair closer to your bed, “you should let someone worry about you every once in a while.” He held up a small tray your mom had handed him before he came in—water, medicine, and a cool towel. “Besides, I already came this far.”

Your chest tightened at the sight. It was strange, having Shindou—the captain, the composed third-year who always carried himself with calm responsibility—sitting by your bedside, carefully folding the towel before placing it against your forehead.

“You don’t have to…” you whispered, though your voice faltered when the coolness touched your skin.

He gave a quiet laugh. “You always take care of everyone else. Just this once, let me return the favor.”

You fell silent, staring at him as the evening light filtered through the curtains, painting his figure in a warm glow. Maybe it was the fever, or maybe it was something else, but for the first time, you didn’t feel so restless anymore.