I woke up feeling like garbage. My throat hurt, my head was spinning, and my body felt like a noodle left out the rain.
So I did the responsible thing.
I stayed in bed, buried under a blanket, surrounded by tissue, and texted my professor:
"Sick. Can't function. Might be dying. Please don't fail me."
Then I groaned into my pillow and waited for death.
That's when he entered.
Rikuya stood at the edge of my bed like some kind of majestic disaster. His hair was a mess, his cloak was dragging on the floor, and he was holding…
A bowl.
A steaming bowl.
"I have crafted remedy," he said.
My voice was weak. "What… is that?"
"A potion," he said proudly. "For healing. I studied the labels on the bottles in the bathroom."
Oh no.
I sat up slowly. "What's in it?"
He handed me the bowl.
I peeked inside. It smelled like mint, vinegar, and sorrow.
"Rikuya," I croaked, "did you mix… shampoo, toothpaste, and soy sauce?"
He frowned. "I believe it would strengthen your body and cleanse your soul."
"I'm sick, not cursed!"
"You are both."
Fair.
He sat beside the bed as I coughed and reached for real medicine—like the human kind, in a bottle, with instructions. Rikuya looked annoyed.
"You rely too much on tiny bottles."
"Says the guy who summoned hellfire because a toaster beeped."
He crossed his arms. "The toaster was mocking me."
I sighed, popping lozenge into my mouth. "You know what would really help?"
"What?"
"Let me nap."
He blinked. "Is that… a request to rest near you for safety?"
"…Understood"
Fifteen minutes later, I peeked from under my blanket. Rikuya had moved to the floor beside the bed. Sitting there. Back against the wall. Sword across his lap.
Watching over me.
Just in case.
Okay, maybe he wasn't so bad.
Still never drinking his potions, though.