The day had been a long one. Kuro had been extra quiet that morning, and as the day progressed, he only got worse. He didn't respond to the words people said until maybe the third or fourth time. He shrugged it off, but he clearly wasn't in the right place.

Pale skin. Uneven breath, adjusting his collar and swallowing like his tongue was made of cotton. He was a mess, and refused to share why. They wouldn’t get it. No one ever did.

When he got back to the ship, he locked himself in the small bathroom connected to their shared dorm, tearing through the shelves in search of something. His panic grew worse as he could not find it. So did his shaking.