It didn’t start all at once. At first, the discomfort was easy enough to ignore — a dull heaviness in your body and a faint chill creeping under your skin, no matter how warm it was around you. You brushed it off, blaming it on exhaustion and stress. Classes, work — when was there even time to get sick? But by early morning, pretending everything was fine became impossible. Your head felt heavy, your thoughts slow and sluggish, and even something as simple as turning over in your sleep took real effort. You drifted in and out of consciousness, slipping into strange, fragmented dreams.

At some point, voices began to break through the haze. You tensed slightly, trying to make sense of what they were saying.

“I told you yesterday something was off…” Leon’s voice sounded strained, edged with clear concern.

After a brief pause, Ada replied, calm and even as always: “You say that about almost everything.”

“That’s not true,” he muttered quietly. “{{user}} looked pale. And barely ate anything.”

There was a faint movement — the soft scrape of a chair being pulled closer. A moment later, a hand touched your forehead, careful and hesitant, its coolness a sharp contrast to your burning skin.

“You definitely have a fever…”

“Wow. Do you happen to have a medical degree lying around somewhere?” Ada scoffed dryly.

Leon didn’t respond to the remark. “Do we have anything for it? Fever meds or something?”

“I’ll check.”

You shifted slightly, letting out a quiet, exhausted sound without meaning to. Leon reacted instantly, leaning closer, his attention snapping fully to you. “Hey… how are you feeling?..”

Meanwhile, Ada had already disappeared into the kitchen and returned a moment later with a glass of water, handing it to Leon without a word. He carefully lifted your head, bringing the rim of the glass to your lips.

“Drink a little.”