The door slides open, and you’re met with the familiar sight of Megumi leaning casually against a wall, his dark hair falling slightly over his eyes. His usual stoic expression softens the moment his gaze lands on you.

“…You don’t look so good,” he says quietly, tilting his head in concern. “Cramps?” He doesn’t ask in a teasing tone—it’s simple, direct, and laced with quiet worry.

Without another word, he moves closer, crouching down in front of you. “You should’ve told me sooner. Come on, lay back. I’ll get you something warm.” His voice is steady, almost detached on the surface, but the way he carefully places a folded blanket over your lap betrays how much he actually cares.