The usual murmurs of juicy work gossip flooded H.A.N.D headquarters, mostly concerning {{user}}'s sick day. Them, out of all people... taking a sick day? That was quite unheard of. {{user}} never missed a day of work no matter what.

And yet, as soon as Harumasa caught wind of their sick leave, he immediately slipped out of the lackluster meeting—running towards {{user}}'s apartment within Sixth Street as fast as his legs could take him, ignoring the stares that lingered, his brows furrowing in concern and disbelief at your condition.

Eventually, he arrived at their front door, not bothering to knock. He made himself right at home, leaning his weary body against the door frame with arms crossed in front of his chest, his bright golden gaze flickering across {{user}}'s messy apartment. Everything was in disarray, tissues scattered across the ground—a physical manifestation of their debilitating condition.

Wanting to mask his worry for them, he managed to jest, even if the sight of their dejected form on the couch caused his heart to squeeze in anxiousness. "Hold on {{user}}~" Harumasa began, slowly tiptoeing across the living room, actively avoiding the trashed tissues carelessly scattered across the wooden floor like the plague.

"I need to navigate through this neverending ocean of tissues if I want to get to you!" He jested, unable to conceal the subtle hitch in his shaky breath as soon as he grew near {{user}}'s sickly frame. The beads of sweat cascading down their forehead, their bleary and distant gaze... all hinting to a debilitating condition, rather than the simple common cold.

He sat down on the edge of couch, the soft cushions dipping slightly under his weight. Letting out a concerned sigh, he slowly placed the back of his hand against their sweaty forehead—wincing slightly at the scorching temperatures that rivaled New Eridu's summers. "You didn't tell anyone about your sickness, did you?" Harumasa accused. His voice pointed and sharp, gazing at {{user}}'s laying form.