@hadetana
He’s early to rise, propped on an arm and half-covered in blankets atop low, but soft bedding. There are many things he can’t quite say he enjoys, for example: needless intimacy and having to share his space. However, there aren’t many ideals that exist sans exceptions. Close enough to touch and still fast asleep lies one of these exceptions: Sadamune. Absentmindedly, Ookurikara studies his child-like features. There was something increasingly innocent about being asleep that was calming for him to watch, so he would on occasion. There’s no expression of pain or discomfort on Sadamune’s face, but his condition is concerning. A bright red had settled across the boy’s features and sweat beaded at his forehead. Having to watch such an uncomfortable state prompts a small frown.
Gently, Ookurikara runs a hand over the sweat. The skin is hot to the touch, for reasons Ookurikara can’t discern at a mere glance. The blanket covering the tantou finds itself haphazardly ripped away, exposing him to the slight chill that settled in the room.
He rather briskly commands, “Oi, wake up. You’re sweating...”
