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Shion can’t sleep.

As an only child, Shion has never had to share his bed with anyone, so he’s unused to the sensation of rolling heat that comes from another body being so close to his own. He’s never turned over and felt skin where the fabric of sheets belong. These new experiences make him both fascinated and annoyed by the stranger, who calls himself Nezumi, sharing his bed.

He wants to sleep, but Nezumi’s feverish and restless shifting keeps him awake. The little noises he makes in slumber drag Shion back from the edges of unconsciousness. Shion adjusts himself in the bed and gets a face full of Nezumi’s hair in the process. It tickles his nose and smells like rain.

Nezumi, on the other hand, isn’t affected by Shion’s movements. Illness has knocked him out cold.

After a while, Shion gives up on sleep. He contents himself with lazily watching Nezumi. The boy alternates between curling against Shion and splaying himself wide against the coolness of the unoccupied section of Shion’s bed. It makes Shion realize how large his bed actually is; they could easily fit another person in it and they all would sleep comfortably.

He wonders if Nezumi has ever slept in a bed like his before.

Asleep, Nezumi looks more like a girl than ever. With his eyes closed and mouth slack, his face is soft and round. He looks innocent. Shion wonders if he looks the same way when he’s asleep. Unthinkingly, he reaches out to touch Nezumi’s face. The boy flinches, but his fever-sleep is deep, so he doesn’t fully wake. It’s not gone, the fever, but it’s subsided considerably.

Shion congratulates himself on his medical ability. He’s excited by his own accomplishment.

Somewhere between thinking about his future and admiring Nezumi in his bed, Shion falls asleep. When he later wakes, all that is left of Nezumi is the faint imprint his body left in the soft mattress. Shion rolls into the dip and there’s no trace of body heat, but the smell of Nezumi, the smell of last night’s raging typhoon, is still there.

Impulsively, he buries his face in the space. He lies there, breathing deeply, until the communicator on his wristband beeps. He’s being summoned to his living room. Reluctantly, Shion climbs out of bed and heads downstairs.

By the time he is done answering for his actions, there’s no trace of Nezumi left on his bed.

Shion’s not sure whether he is upset by that or not.