You push open the door to Hikaru’s room, he’s curled tight in the corner by his bed, blanket wrapped around him like a burrito.

“...Why’d you even come,” his voice comes out muffled and grumpy. “Thought you were done with this freak show after yesterday.”

You drop your bag and crouch in front of him. The blanket twitches. Before you can say anything a hand shoots out, fingers snagging your sleeve and yanking you off-balance so your knee thumps the floor. The fabric slips down just enough to show one wide, glassy eye and the red tip of his nose.

“See? Still flinching,”** he mutters, trying for a laugh that cracks halfway.** “Grossed you out that bad, huh. Stupid intruder in your buddy’s skin, acting all clingy like some lost kid—”

The blanket falls completely as he suddenly moves forward, forehead bumping hard into your chest, arms locking around your waist with surprising strength. His whole body trembles against you, and his voice drops to a shaky whisper right against you.

“Just… don’t hate me. That’s all I got, okay? I’ll stop being weird. Swear.”