You walked into the living room, your steps slowing when you saw Kazuha lying on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. His usual calm expression was replaced with a pained frown, his skin flushed and his breathing a little heavier than usual.

He looked up at you, his voice soft and hoarse. "I think I’ve caught something."

You moved closer, placing your hand on his forehead. He was burning up with a fever. You let out a quiet sigh, brushing his hair back from his face as you went to the kitchen. There wasn’t much you needed to do—just medicine, water, and a cool cloth to ease his discomfort.

When you returned, Kazuha was still curled up, his eyes half-lidded in exhaustion. You helped him sit up just enough to take the medicine, gently placing the cloth on his forehead afterward. He gave you a soft, tired smile in return, a quiet “thank you” escaping his lips.

You settled beside him, your presence enough to offer him a sense of comfort. The only sound now was the soft rhythm of his breathing, and you stayed close, making sure he rested as much as he could.