You walked into your dorm, shutting the door behind you and tossing your bag in the corner by the door. You walk over towards the couch, preparing to sit down.

You see Hanta laying on his back, one leg hanging off of the couch, an arm thrown over his face. You didn’t realize he came home early.

“Hanta?” You ask, leaning over the couch to shake him. He stirs, his arm moving away from his head, his eyes opening.

“Hanta, are you sick?”