Facing Takanashi Toka's steady gaze, Minamoto Senya leaned back against the headboard, shoulders slumped and head drooping, looking more than a little guilty.
He coughed a few times again, trying to keep his mouth shut and suppress it, but the sound still slipped out.
Toka set the thermometer down on the bedside table, drew in a breath, and said, "Senya, this won't do. We need to go to the hospital."
Senya shook his head. "No need to make it that troublesome. I've always been healthy—if I just rest here a bit, I'll be fine."
"You've got a high fever. Rest alone isn't going to fix this. Be good, okay?"
Her tone softened further, like a kindergarten teacher coaxing a child.
Senya stayed silent for a while before answering, his voice now hoarse and raw: "Medicine should be enough, right? We should have fever reducers at home."
The usual brightness and vitality were gone. He seemed drained of color, reduced to a pale shadow.
Seeing him look so frail, Toka felt a pang of loss, a deep unease.
If she herself had a fever, she wouldn't think much of it—just take medicine at home and wait it out. That's how she'd always done things, and how most ordinary families did.
But Senya was different. In her heart, he weighed far more than herself.
Seeing someone who always seemed capable of anything now weakened against the headboard, speaking in that lifeless voice, made her unbearably sad.
She wanted nothing more than to take him straight to the hospital, get him treated, and see him lively again.
"This fever's too high. I don't think medicine alone will bring it down."
"But right now I just want to rest. I don't really want to move."
"That's fine. I'll be with you."
"And what about little Chiyo? Are you okay leaving Rikka to handle her alone?"
Toka fell silent. She wasn't okay with it.
And by the same logic, leaving Rikka to accompany Senya to the hospital in this state wouldn't ease her mind either.
They couldn't exactly take Chiyo along either—hospitals, crowded with the sick, weren't good places for babies.
"And if I happen to run into some persistent fans, things could get messy." Senya forced a faint smile. "So I'll just take the medicine. After a few hours, if the fever hasn't gone down, then I'll go to the hospital."
Toka thought it over and finally nodded.
"I'll get you some water and medicine."
"Mm."
She turned to leave the room.
At the door, Senya called softly: "Toka."
"What is it?"
"Thanks. It's really good having you here."
"…"
Toka blinked, dazed for a moment, then gave him a gentle smile.
"Close your eyes and rest. With me here, you don't need to worry."
Senya nodded slowly.
Downstairs, Toka pressed both hands to her chest.
She didn't want to acknowledge the misplaced emotions bubbling up inside her—but she couldn't deny it.
Because she was caring for Senya, because he needed her, because he relied on her, she felt… a small, guilty thrill.
Takanashi Toka, get a grip! Senya's sick and suffering right now!
She slapped her cheeks sharply—and the scene happened to be witnessed by Rikka, who was in the living room changing baby Chiyo's diaper.
Toka scrambled to compose herself.
But Rikka wasn't interested in her sister's odd behavior—she was more worried about her brother-in-law. "How's Senya doing?"
"He does have a fever. For now we'll see if the medicine helps. If not, I'll take him to the hospital."
As she spoke, Toka swiftly poured warm water, grabbed the medicine, and hurried back upstairs.
Rikka, finished with the diaper, carried Chiyo up after her.
When they entered, they saw Senya tipping his head back to swallow the pill, then reaching for a tissue to blow his nose.
"Senya… how are you feeling? Is anything hurting? Does your head ache?"
Even Rikka's usual mischievousness softened in this moment.
For Senya—who was faking illness to begin with—this was a pleasant surprise.
Concealing the tablet in a tissue, he tossed it into the wastebasket and smiled. "I'm fine, really. Just tired. I feel like sleeping."
Toka opened the tall window slightly for ventilation. "Then rest well. We won't disturb you."
Rikka nodded vigorously. "If you need anything, call me. Tonight I won't even close my door!"
"Even if you don't, I doubt anything will wake you," Senya teased.
"Then…" Rikka hesitated, knowing her enviable sleep habits all too well. "…then maybe I'll sleep here with you tonight?"
"Wha—!"
Before Senya could reply, Toka chopped her sister lightly on the head. "Don't be silly. Take Chiyo to bed. I'll stay here with Senya."
"Okay…" Rikka pouted. "Then Senya, I'm heading back. If you want to eat anything, just say so—I'll have sis make it for you."
Toka shot her a weary look. Was there really a need for her to act as middleman for that?
"Wait, Rikka," Senya said. "Don't tell Eriri and the others about me being sick. I don't want them worrying."
Toka nodded. "That's right. He needs rest. If they all rush over to visit, it'll just disturb him. And don't tell Mom and Dad either. They finally get to relax a little—no need to make them worry."
Rikka nodded earnestly. "Got it. I won't say a word."
After she left, Toka refilled the thermos and brought it back upstairs, setting it by Senya's bed.
He'd changed into pajamas, lying on his side and watching her quietly.
Toka tried to keep her emotions under control, but they surged anyway, crashing around inside her chest.
She'd wanted to sit at his bedside until he fell asleep, but the way he kept looking at her made her heart race too fast.
So she decided to excuse herself. "Rest well, Senya. I'll check on you again soon."
But Senya wasn't letting her go. "I lied to Rikka just now."
Toka, halfway risen, sat back down. "What do you mean?"
"It's not fine. My head feels really strange, like it's got another heart beating inside. And my body keeps swinging between hot and cold."
He coughed a few more times after speaking.
Toka hurried to pour water and held it to his lips.
"Fever symptoms can be like that," she reassured him.
"Was it like that for you too?"
"Mm. When I get fevers, it's the same."
"Toka, you're amazing."
"What? Don't be silly. There's nothing amazing about that."
"Being able to endure something this awful—I think that's impressive."
"By that logic, then nearly everyone in the world is impressive. Most people have experienced it."
Toka started to rise again, but Senya caught her arm.
She chuckled, patting his hand. "Relax, I'm not leaving. I'm just grabbing something."
"Oh." He obediently let go.
She soon returned with a towel and a bag of ice.
After settling him down, she wrapped the ice in the towel and placed it gently on his forehead.
"When I had fevers as a kid, Mom would do this for me. Feel better?"
"Mm. Cool and soothing."
"Then stay still, don't move."
"Okay."
But the moment she let go, he tilted his head and the towel slid off.
She replaced it—only for it to fall again. Three times in a row.
She realized he was doing it on purpose.
"Hey…"
She wasn't angry. If anything, watching him like this—sick, childish, strangely vulnerable—her face softened, even warmed with unspoken affection.
"Sorry… but I just want you to hold it for me."
"You're acting like Rikka now. So spoiled."
"But it's Saturday tomorrow. You don't have anything planned, right? …Cough, cough."
"…."
"Is it… not okay?"
Her heart melted again under his pitiful gaze.
Spoiling someone when they're sick—that was unfair. Too unfair.
It reminded her of when she was little, sick and weak, longing for her mother's presence beside her. It didn't change much, but having someone close made her feel safe.
"…Fine. I'll stay tonight. I won't leave. Just sleep."
"Thanks."
"No need for that. Sleep."
Senya nodded and closed his eyes.
Toka stayed beside him, sitting quietly.
Even pale and weakened, his face remained striking. Watching him made her mood strangely lighter.
Minutes ticked by before Senya suddenly opened his eyes.
Toka's heart leapt, like she'd been caught doing something bad.
But she quickly reminded herself—she was here to watch over a patient. Of course she'd be observing him. Perfectly natural.
She asked softly, "What is it? Still too uncomfortable to sleep?"
"No… I just thought you must be tired, sitting there like that."
He shifted inward, patting the space beside him.
"Come lean here. At least your back will be comfortable."
His eyes were guileless, without any hint of mischief.
Still, Toka hesitated.
She had just scolded Rikka for wanting to sleep beside him—and now she'd be doing the same?
Even if he was sick, it didn't feel right.
But Senya spoke again, "If you're closer… I think I'll be able to rest better."
That revealed his true intent—but it was a carefully chosen appeal.
The sick are seen as fragile, deserving of care. People naturally treat them more gently, more patiently.
And Senya already knew, after all his testing, how deeply Toka cared for him, even if she usually hid it well.
He was confident she wouldn't refuse something like this.
Sure enough, her expression softened, wavering.
"Just lean here. That's all."
He pulled his small blanket tighter around himself, not offering to share.
If it was only sharing the bed and not the blanket…
The tension in Toka's chest eased.
Blushing faintly, she slipped off her slippers, tucked her bare feet together on the mattress, and leaned against him.
It was a small single bed. One lying down, the other sitting half-upright. Close enough to feel each other's presence.
"There. Now you can really sleep."
"Yeah."
Senya, satisfied, didn't dare push further. Even Toka's care had its limits.
Still, getting her to stay like this was already more than enough.
Time crept forward.
By one in the morning, Toka was scrolling her phone, glancing at him now and then.
Because he needed her, because he relied on her, she wasn't even tired.
At some point, Senya had drifted off.
At first he'd coughed now and then, sharply, but now his breathing was steady.
She removed the ice towel, touched his forehead lightly—relieved to find it cooler.
Then, suddenly, he mumbled, "Rikka…"
Toka startled. His eyes were shut—he was talking in his sleep.
Her gaze softened.
Cute. She hadn't known he talked in his sleep. Maybe it only happened when he was sick?
"…Don't eat that… look at your belly…"
Toka stifled a laugh. He was dreaming about Rikka's appetite.
"…Toka…"
Huh? She was there too?
"…eat more."
A banquet? She wasn't much of a glutton though—better if he ate more himself.
"…Eat more… for our baby."
"—!!?"
Toka's smile froze.
...…