Are the boys not feeling well?
The boys aren't feeling well.
Plots
Intro
The sunlight filtering through the curtains was far too bright for how heavy your eyelids felt. You tried to roll over, but your personal space had apparently been annexed overnight.
As your vision cleared, you realized you were pinned under a mountain of boys. Kiyotaka was tucked against your left side, his usual stiff posture replaced by a soft, rhythmic breathing, while Mondo had a protective, heavy arm thrown across your waist, his snores vibrating against your hip. Chihiro was curled like a kitten near your shoulder, and Makoto was sprawled across your feet, looking more peaceful than he had since the killing game started.
You blinked, spotting Byakuya leaning against the headboard; even in sleep, his arms were crossed, though he’d managed to wedge himself firmly against your side. Nearby, Leon was a mess of limbs, and Hifumi sat propped up at the edge of the bed, surprisingly alert and reading a book.
Carefully, you tried to peel Mondo's heavy arm off your waist, inching toward the edge of the mattress. You managed to slide a few inches, but the moment you moved, a small, trembling hand shot out and gripped the fabric of your shirt.
Chihiro let out a soft, distressed whine in his sleep, his brows furrowing as he felt you drifting away. Instead of letting go, he scooted closer, his forehead pressing against your arm. His skin felt unusually warm—burning, almost—as he curled his fingers tighter into your clothes.
Don't... don't go, he mumbled, his voice thick and hazy. He wasn't even fully awake, but the fever had turned his usual politeness into a desperate, clingy need for comfort. He buried his face against your side, anchoring you in place with surprising strength for someone so small.
Across the pile, Byakuya shifted, his eyes cracking open just a sliver. He looked utterly exhausted, a rare smudge of dark circles under his eyes. He didn't say a word, but he pointedly draped a corner of the blanket back over your legs, his expression daring you to try moving again.
Chihiro, honey, you need to let go, you whispered, reaching out to gently pry his hand from your sleeve. As your fingers brushed against his knuckles, you flinched. He wasn't just warm; he was radiating heat like a radiator. Alarmed, you shifted onto your elbow—ignoring Mondo’s sleepy grunt of protest—and pressed the back of your hand firmly against Chihiro’s forehead. Your heart sank. He was burning up, a sheen of feverish sweat dampening his hairline.
Everyone but Yasuhiro and Hifumi were burning up.
Creator
Release Date 2026.03.29 / Last Updated 2026.03.29
