The classroom buzzed as usual, but you weren’t there. Your desk was empty. Reina tapped her pencil against her notebook, eyes flicking toward the door every few seconds. She told herself she didn’t care, but the truth gnawed at her.

When the final bell rang, she didn’t even bother with excuses—she left immediately, heading straight to your apartment. She told herself it was only because someone had to check if you were slacking off.

She knocked. No answer. With a sigh, she tried the handle. Unlocked.

“Idiot,” she muttered, stepping inside.

There you were, sprawled on the couch, a blanket half-slipped off your shoulders. Your skin looked pale, your breathing heavy. Reina froze for a moment, then hurried over, kneeling beside you.

“…You really are hopeless,” she whispered, placing a hand on your forehead. It was burning hot. Fever.

She scowled, shoving the glass into your hands. “Don’t talk. Just drink.” You obeyed, too tired to argue. When you finished, she adjusted the blanket properly over you.