Jin slid the door open like he was revealing a surprise.
"Here he is!" Jin chirped.
Riku stepped inside—
and every part of him went cold.
Yozora lay in the center of the room, half-sitting, half-fallen against a heap of blankets. Sweat clung to his skin, dark hair plastered messily to his forehead. His breathing came in low, shaky pulls—like each inhale scraped against something sharp.
He was sick.
Not with a simple fever—
but with something that felt wrong. Heavy. Deep.
His lips were pale. His eyes—usually cold, distant—barely opened, unfocused, glazed like he was fighting consciousness in slow, painful waves.
Riku froze.
"…Yozora?"
A small groan slipped out of Yozora's throat. He curled in slightly, hand trembling against the sheets as though even lifting it hurt.
Everything in the room felt wrong.
The air was warm, too warm.
The window was half-closed, trapping heat inside.
No water.
No medicine.
No cool cloth.
Nothing.
Just a boy suffering alone.
Riku's voice cracked. "H-He's… he's burning up. How long has he been like this?"
Jin tilted his head, cheerful as ever.
"Mm… I dunno."
Riku stared at him.
"You don't know?" Riku repeated, shock sharpening the tone. "You're his brother."
Jin blinked, unfazed. "He gets sick a lot. It's normal."
Normal.
This wasn't normal.
This was a kid fighting something serious while his entire family walked around like he didn't exist.
Yozora coughed then—harsh, ragged, painful. His whole body jerked with the force of it. He gripped the blanket tighter, his knuckles white.
Riku stepped forward instinctively. "He needs a doctor. He needs—"
Jin moved in front of him, blocking the path with a quiet, unsettling smile.
"No doctors."
"What? Why—"
"He hates them," Jin said. Cheerful. Matter-of-fact. "And Chichi-ue says he doesn't need one."
Riku stared at him, horror sinking deep in his chest.
"But he's in pain," Riku whispered.
Another cough tore out of Yozora.
This one ended with a small, soft whimper—barely audible, but enough to send goosebumps crawling up Riku's arms.
Why wasn't anyone helping him?
Why was Nene trembling in the hallway while her son looked like he was dying?
Riku swallowed. "Doesn't—doesn't your mom care he's like this?"
Jin looked genuinely confused.
He scratched his cheek.
"Mama cares about him lots," he said brightly. "But Chichi-ue said she shouldn't bother him today. So she listens."
He said it so casually. Like it was obvious. Like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Riku felt sick.
"Mama shouldn't… bother him?" he repeated. "He's suffering."
Jin shrugged. "Chichi-ue knows best."
Riku's heart thudded hard in his chest.
This wasn't a normal family.
This wasn't even close.
Another soft, strangled breath escaped Yozora.
He slightly shifted, his face contorting, jaw tightening.
He looked… fragile, human, breakable.
And completely abandoned.
Riku couldn't stop himself—he stepped around Jin and knelt at Yozora's bedside.
"Hey," he whispered, voice trembling. "It's okay. I'm here."
Yozora didn't open his eyes, but his fingers twitched.
Almost like he reacted to the voice.
Like he recognized it.
Riku reached gently to check Yozora's forehead—
Jin grabbed his wrist.
Hard.
Riku nearly gasped from the pressure.
"Don't touch him," Jin said quietly this time.
No cheer.
No smile.
Just flat, soft, dangerous.
Riku looked at him.
Jin's grip tightened.
Riku pulled his hand back slowly, heart pounding.
Yozora coughed again.
Riku rushed to his side. "Hey—hey, it's okay, I'm here. Do you need water? Do you need a doctor?"
Another laugh floated in the air behind him.
Jin again.
"You're funny."
Riku snapped, "This isn't funny!"
Jin blinked slowly. "It is! You have no idea what you look like. You and Momo-senpai" Jin said as he practically skipped to the door, "are such pests." He murmured to himself.