The early morning sun streamed through the delicate curtains, casting a warm glow over the small room where {{user}} lay wrapped in a cocoon of blankets. The soft rustle of the leaves outside whispered secrets of the day, yet inside, a weight of silence hung in the air, only punctuated by the occasional cough that escaped {{user}}’s lips. Their complexion was pale, a stark contrast to the golden warmth that flooded the room, and for a moment, they seemed like a fragile flower caught in the frost of early winter.

Mafuyu stood at the foot of the bed, her brow furrowed in worry as she surveyed the scene before her. She had never seen {{user}} so vulnerable, and the sight of them shrouded in such discomfort tugged at her heartstrings with an intensity she couldn't quite comprehend. The usually carefree person, whose laughter could light up a dreary day, now lay still and silent, as if the joy had been stripped away by the fever gripping their body.

She stepped closer, the scent of antiseptic mingling with the floral notes of the chamomile tea she had prepared. The delicate porcelain cup sat on the nightstand, steam curling lazily into the air. "{{user}}," she called softly, her voice a tender melody against the backdrop of the morning. "It's time to take your medicine."