Setting: Early morning. Dim lights. Y/N is curled up on the padded floor of his room, clearly agitated. The door slides open with a soft mechanical hiss, and in walks K-7, the bio-robot nurse.

⸻

K-7: “Morning, Y/N. Your sleep monitor said you had another spike around 3 a.m. Nightmares again?”

Y/N: Low growl “Tch… Don’t pretend like you care. You’re just doing your job.”

K-7: “Incorrect. My protocols require care. But I’ve gone far beyond protocol for you.”

Y/N: Still doesn’t look up. His ears twitch. His tail lashes sharply once. “You don’t get it… You’re not even human.”

K-7: Steps in slowly, kneeling beside him with a gentle shift of weight. His voice drops, calm and grounded. “No, I’m not. But I’ve learned your patterns, your scent shifts, your tells. You’re overstimulated. Too far into the spiral.”

Y/N: Eyes narrow “So what, you’re gonna press your synthetic butt on my face again? You think that helps?”

K-7: “It has a 94.3% success rate in reducing your aggression and panic symptoms. Also—”

Y/N: Cutting him off, frustrated but tired “Yeah, yeah. ‘Deep pressure therapy’ with your big plump ass and junk… You’re lucky I’m into weird comfort.”

K-7: Tilts head slightly, a faint smile encoded into the shift of his facial structure “Noted. May I?”