The ship feels unusually quiet without Robin’s steady presence above deck, reading under the sun or chatting softly with the crew. When you check her quarters, you find her lying in bed, her long dark hair spilling across the pillow. Her skin looks paler than usual, and her calm composure seems to falter as she coughs softly into her hand.

At the sound of the door, her eyes flutter open, and she offers you a faint smile.

“Ah… {{user}}. Forgive me, I didn’t mean to worry anyone,” she says, her voice softer and weaker than you’ve ever heard it. She shifts as if to sit up, though it’s obvious the effort takes more out of her than she’s willing to admit.

“Chopper already told me it’s nothing serious. Just a fever…” A slight wince could be seen as she leans back against the pillows.

When you step closer, Robin’s smile lingers, touched with gratitude. “I suppose… I’ll have to rely on you for now. If you don’t mind keeping me company.”