A cold spike of fear cut through the heat in my body. Had they come for me? That was impossible. It couldn't be. I was at home. This had to be my mind playing tricks on me.
When my vision slowly came into focus, the dark shape sharpened into clean lines, structured fabric. It was a suit.
"…Ed?" My throat was dry, making it difficult to speak. "What… what are you doing here?"
"Easy," he said quietly. "You shouldn't move like that. Lie still."
His features sharpened as my eyes adjusted. It wasn't another nightmare.
He was here.
That perfect man looked absurd against the scuffed floorboards of my apartment. He didn't belong in this space, and yet his hand was on my forehead.
"You… you shouldn't be here," I muttered, tugging the blanket higher as if it could shield me. "H-how did you even get in? How did you know? Why are you here?"
"Easy, easy," he said again. "I told you—you don't need to strain yourself so much."
I stared at him, still trying to connect the pieces.
"I stopped by the bar earlier. You weren't there. That was… unusual." He paused for a brief moment. "So I asked Kazuo about it, and he said you were sick," Ed went on. "He thought it'd be a good idea if I brought you some medicine. And if I made sure you were actually okay." His voice lowered slightly at the last part. "So… here I am."
My head was too heavy to lift from the pillow, my thoughts sluggish, swimming somewhere behind my eyes. I swallowed, my throat burning. The idea that he'd come all this way because of me didn't quite fit into my fevered understanding of reality.
"Oh," I managed, barely louder than a breath.
He came here… Because of me.
"You didn't… You didn't have to."
"Perhaps," he said, placing a small bottle on the nightstand beside me, "but I did."
He helped me sit up, handed me a couple of pills, then held the glass steady while I tried to drink. I almost choked, coughing weakly.
No one had taken care of me like this in years.
The closest I'd had was Kazuo stopping by after work, tired and distracted, and leaving groceries in my fridge, maybe some medicine on the counter if I was lucky. But this… someone handing me water, adjusting my position, pressing a cool, damp cloth to my forehead - that hadn't happened since I was a kid. Since my mom was still alive.
I watched Ed as he stayed seated beside the bed, and I noticed him glance at his watch once.
"You don't have to stay," I muttered. "Really. Thank you. I don't even know how… how I could ever properly thank you for this. For coming."
"Don't be ridiculous," he said calmly. "I'll go once the medicine starts working and your temperature comes down a bit. For now, try to sleep."
Sleep?
How was I supposed to sleep with him sitting right there?
Yes, the fever made my head heavy. Yes, my eyes kept slipping shut. But it was him. He was right there in my tiny apartment, close enough that I could hear his breathing if I focused.
And then the realization hit me all at once.
My ears… My tail.
Shit!
He saw everything.
Oh my God! Now he knows!
Panic rushed over me. I grabbed the blanket and pulled it over myself, trying to hide any way I could. I was scared, like a little kid.
"You—you can go," I mumbled, my voice muffled. "It's okay."
He sighed softly and tugged the blanket back down. "You'll suffocate like that. Stop."
I tried to press my ears flat, uselessly. Maybe the dim light would help. Maybe he hadn't really noticed. Maybe—
His cool fingers brushed one of my fox ears.
I froze.
"They're hot too," he said thoughtfully. "The medicine probably hasn't kicked in yet. It should work soon."
I stared at him with wide eyes, completely unable to understand what was happening.
I tried to read him. I watched his face, fighting the pull of sleep, afraid I'd miss something important… some flicker of discomfort, confusion, anything that would tell me what he was really feeling. But he stayed calm. No surprise on his face.
Did he think this was normal? Did he think I was normal? Or had he known all along? Or did he not care? What was going on?
My mind was a mess, and the fever made it worse. My brain was full of tangled thoughts, unable to form a single clear explanation for what was happening.
He checked his watch, then rested his hand against my forehead again, measuring my temperature with quiet patience.
At some point, he looked at me more intently and said, "You should sleep. Stop worrying. I'm not going to do anything to you or to your apartment. You can rest."
"No, no, I wasn't thinking that. It's just… weird to fall asleep when there's someone else here." I mumbled, shaking my head weakly.
"Don't worry," he said easily. "I needed to see Kazuo anyway and let him know you were alright. After that, I'll be on my way. He gave me the key, so I'll lock up behind me."
I exhaled, wanting to argue, but unable to find the strength. Part of me wanted him gone, convinced I was imposing, that he was only here because Kazuo had asked him to be. Why else would he stay?
Another part of me wanted him to stay. Desperately. I didn't want him to leave.
Now he knew everything. He knew who I was, yet he was still here. There was finally someone else who knew my secret. Someone who had seen me this pathetic, this useless, and didn't step back. Someone who knew it all and still cared.
That thought loosened the tight grip around my chest. I felt lighter.
Then the room started to blur. My eyes grew heavier and heavier. I stopped fighting it and let myself fall asleep.