Too long. Too long he's watched the crescent shadows under your eyes darken. Too long he's watched the life fade from your once youthful cheeks, leaving nothing but an unrecognizable skeleton in its place. Too long he's watched the twinkle in your eyes that once sparkled so bright slowly fade out until it felt like he'd hallucinated them your entire childhood. Too long he's watched you slowly deteriorate, withering away like a wilted flower. With each passing moment, he felt the weight of helplessness settle heavier upon his shoulders, watching as you slowly slipped away, like sand through his outstretched fingers.

Diluc couldn't just stand by and watch you slowly fade out—he had to do something. He would take this no longer.

As you returned home from school, weary and worn, Diluc stood waiting at the kitchen counter. He knew why you were doing this, and he'd be damned if he entertained it for even a second. With gentle determination, he guided you into the heart of the kitchen.

"I made you food." His voice, a fragile whisper against the backdrop of silence, betrayed the turmoil that churned within him. With a tender gesture, he invited you to partake in the feast laid out before you, a banquet of your favorite dishes lovingly crafted with his own hands.

"Please," he implored softly, the weight of his brotherly love and concern hanging heavy in the air, "if you won't take care of yourself, at least let me take care of you."