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A sharp wind whistled through the branches, carrying the earthy scent of frost-kissed mud and decaying foliage. Training had ended earlier than usual that afternoon the cold was making everyone eager to retreat indoors. However, the second-years had lingered near the pond out of habit, enjoying the rare quiet moment. You stood a short distance from the water with Yuta and Maki, still grumbling as you rubbed your arms against the cold.
“It’s so stupid that the third and fourth years get the inside gyms all to themselves,” you said, kicking at a pile of leaves. “We’re out here freezing our asses off every day while they’re probably doing warm-ups in heated rooms. What, are we not important enough?”
Yuta nodded with a sympathetic sigh, readjusting the strap of his sword bag. “Yeah, it does feel unfair sometimes. I get that they have more experience, but maybe they have earned it?”
Maki let out a sharp laugh, not pausing as she ran a cloth along her foggy glasses. “Tell me about it. I’d kill for a decent indoor training hall right now instead of pretending the wind isn’t trying to knock me over. Those upperclassmen act like they own the place. Next time Gojo-sensei shows up, someone should complain.”
Both girls looked at Yuta with wicked smiles. Maki made the opening move.
“You know, Okkotsu, with you being cousins with Gojo, wouldn’t it make sense for you to bring it up?”
Yuta gulped and started stuttering, rubbing the back of his head. “M-me? Oh, I don’t think he’d listen to me. Haha,” He laughed nervously, clearly trying to shrink away from the suggestion. “He’s always so….busy, I’d probably just make it worse.”
You and Maki burst out laughing at his panicked expression, the sound briefly cutting through the chill. The conversation flowed easily from there, the familiar banter warming the group despite the dropping temperature. You rubbed at your arms again, silently cursing yourself for not wearing thermals under your uniform. You could barely feel your legs at this point. This was the last time you wore a skirt without leggings, you vowed.
Ever perceptive, Yuta casually unwound his scarf and offered it to you. “Do you want to borrow this?”
“Or maybe she could just toughen up like the rest of us,” Maki added with a smirk.
You rolled your eyes and shook your head. “The scarf isn’t going to fix anything, but thanks for the offer. I just don’t fare well with the cold. I’ll be fine.”
“I’ve always wanted to see someone turn into an ice sculpture,” Maki shrugged, though the teasing glint in her eye showed she was mostly joking.
You grinned despite the shivers, the lighthearted ribbing helping distract you from the biting wind. The conversation shifted naturally as you bounced lightly on your toes, trying to keep warm.
“That new thriller movie is finally dropping this weekend,” you added, bouncing lightly on your toes to stay warm. “The one with the high-end special effects everyone’s been hyped about. We should all go together. It’d be nice to do something normal for once instead of just fighting curses nonstop.”
Yuta smiled softly, relieved the spotlight was off him. “I saw the trailer. The visuals look intense. I’m in if the rest of the group wants to. It could be a good way to relax.”
Maki snorted. “As long as it’s not some sappy romance crap. Action sounds tolerable. Just don’t make me sit through trailers for two hours beforehand.”
You grinned, rubbing your arms one last time against the persistent chill. “I’ll go ask the boys what they think. Then I’m heading in before I actually catch a cold.” As if on cue, a small sneeze escaped you, making you sniffle and shake your head with a self-deprecating laugh.
“Before…. Right.” Maki rolls her eyes.
You waved her off with a grin and started walking over, boots crunching steadily through the thick layer of fallen leaves. Each step sent little puffs of frost-kissed debris into the air. As you got closer, Toge’s violet eyes met yours, softening in that subtle way that always made your heart skip. “Kelp,” he greeted quietly, the single word carrying a quiet warmth that cut through the biting air.
Both of them wore matching mischievous little grins that immediately set off warning bells in your head. Never a good sign. You still had vivid memories of the color-bomb incident last month. The one that left you doing weeks of deep cleaning after the entire classroom exploded in bright pink powder mid-lecture. Whatever they were plotting this time, you wanted no part of it.
Panda straightened up from where he’d been leaning against a tree, flashing an overly casual grin. “Hey! What’s up?”
Both of them were already chuckling under their breath. Whatever they were planning, it was clearly in motion.
You opened your mouth, excitement still bubbling as you started to ask, “We were thinking about catching that new—”
But you never got the chance to finish.
What you didn’t know was that Toge and Panda had spent the better part of the afternoon secretly rigging a harmless little prank aimed solely at Maki. Only the two of them were in on it. They’d carefully arranged a subtle setup of fallen branches, ropes, and a light thread of cursed energy hidden just beneath a deceptive pile of leaves near the pond’s edge. It was designed to trigger a sudden slippery “launch” or slide when Maki inevitably walked past later, nothing dangerous, just enough to splash her boots and maybe the hem of her uniform, followed by her signature scolding. Classic second-year mischief to break up the monotony of the cold day.
Panda, far too eager and convinced Maki was still distracted by Yuta, wanted to test it out on you. He subtly nudged the hidden trigger with his foot while you stood directly in the danger zone, completely unaware.
The cursed energy flared brighter than intended across the frost-slicked leaves. The whole mechanism whipped upward with sudden, violent force.
The ground vanished beneath your feet without warning, and the laughter stopped as you let out a confused scream as the momentum hurled you forward. You were catapulted straight out over the pond, launched toward the very middle. A very dangerous miscalculation on the pair's part.
Your arms windmilled wildly through the cold air, heart slamming against your ribs in pure panic. For one terrifying, suspended heartbeat, time seemed to stretch. The sharp wind is whipping past your face as the dark water rushes up to meet you. The distant voices of the others are fading into the background. Then gravity took over.
SPLASH!
You hit the center of the pond like a meteor. The impact punched the air from your lungs in a single, explosive rush, as the water swallowed you whole. Late autumn had transformed the once-mild pond into a dark, murky abyss of liquid ice thick with silt and rot. The impact hit so hard your mouth flew open in a silent scream. Foul, earthy water flooded straight down your throat, burning your lungs as it choked you from the inside. You thrashed in blind panic.
Freezing needles stabbed deep into every muscle, seizing them instantly. Your uniform turned too heavy, pulling you down. Slimy underwater weeds wrapped around your arms and legs like cold, dead fingers trying to claim you, tangling tighter the more you struggled. Murky darkness pressed in from all sides. You couldn’t see the surface. Couldn’t tell which way was up. Your heart hammered against your ribs as the primal terror of drowning surged through you.
This is it, this is how I die. You think while more water forced its way into your nose and mouth with every desperate kick. You flailed wildly, lungs screaming, vision spotting black. Every second underwater stretched into an eternity of pure animal fear. Finally, with a last, savage kick, you exploded upward and broke the surface in a violent, thrashing burst. Coughing, gagging, half-drowning as you vomited pond water and sucked in ragged, desperate gulps of air.
“Fuck!” The word came out as a strangled, waterlogged cry. Your arms slapped uselessly at the choppy surface, body still convinced it was sinking. The wind sliced across your soaked skin like razors, but it was nothing compared to the bone-deep terror still clawing at your chest. The shore, which had looked so close from the ridge, now seemed impossibly far across the dark, rippling water. Your limbs already felt heavier, colder, slower. Every breath burned.
It took nearly two full, exhausting minutes of grueling swimming to fight your way back. Your limbs grew heavier with every desperate stroke, teeth chattering so violently they ached in your jaw. The cold had sunk bone-deep within seconds; your lips turned a pale blue, and violent, uncontrollable shivers wracked your body between each stroke. Every ragged breath burned like inhaling shards of ice. By the time you were only halfway back, your legs began to feel frighteningly numb, as if they no longer fully belonged to you.
Voices carried sharply across the water from the shore.
“What the hell did you two idiots just do?!” Maki’s voice rang out, sharp and furious. She stormed right up to the pair, fists balled tight like she was ready to use them. “You launched her straight into the middle of the damn pond! Are you serious right now?”
Yuta was right beside her, his usual gentle demeanor completely gone, replaced by clear disapproval. He crossed his arms, frowning deeply. “This wasn’t funny at all, guys. You know how cold that water gets in late autumn. She’s been struggling out there for ages, just trying to swim back. What if she gets hypothermia? You can’t just mess around with stuff like this without thinking.”
Panda’s ears drooped low; all his earlier excitement completely vanished. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking genuinely ashamed. “We were trying to prank you, Maki, not her… I swear. It wasn’t supposed to go that far or that hard. The cursed energy must’ve reacted weirdly with the wet leaves or something. We’re really sorry…”
Toge stood rigidly at the edge of the pond, his violet eyes wide with raw, unmistakable guilt. His shoulders were tense, hands clenched tightly at his sides as he watched your slow, painful progress through the water. “...Mustard leaf,” he whispered, the words heavy and quiet with deep regret. There was no playfulness left in his tone.
Maki wasn’t done. She jabbed a finger toward them, voice rising. “You two are unbelievable. A prank is one thing, but this? In this weather? She’s turning blue out there! I should go straight to Principal Yaga. Don’t think I won’t. You know exactly what kind of punishment he’ll hand down for endangering another student like this.”
At the mention of Yaga, both Panda’s and Toge’s eyes went wide with genuine fear. Panda’s ears flattened completely against his head, and Toge’s posture stiffened even more, a flicker of panic crossing his usually calm expression. They both knew all too well how severe Yaga’s punishments could be, especially for something that could’ve resulted in real injury.
You finally reached the shallows after what felt like an eternity of fighting the freezing water. Your legs were shaking violently, barely able to support your own weight as you staggered forward. Yuta immediately waded in a few steps, the cold water splashing around his ankles, and grabbed your arm with steady, reliable strength. He helped haul you the rest of the way onto solid ground. Water poured off you in heavy, freezing sheets, pooling around your boots and turning the dirt into dark mud. You were trembling uncontrollably now, your skin deathly pale, lips distinctly blue from the merciless cold.
When you tried to take even a single step on your own, your legs buckled completely beneath you. The world tilted dangerously as you nearly collapsed. A broken sob tore from your throat before you could stop it.
“I… I can’t feel my legs,” you cried, your voice cracking painfully as hot tears stung your freezing cheeks and mixed with the pond water still dripping from your hair. The terrifying numbness spread through your lower body like the icy water was still clinging to you, refusing to let go. Panic edged into your voice as your knees gave way again.
Toge moved on instinct, stepping forward quickly with his hand outstretched, eyes wide with desperate concern. “Pollack roe! Mustard leaf?…” he started, the word strained.
But Maki was faster. She thrust her arm out, blocking his path firmly. “You’ve done enough!” she snapped, her voice sharp and unyielding. “Stay back, Inumaki. You and Panda have caused more than enough trouble today.”
Toge froze mid-step, looking stricken. His violet eyes were filled with raw guilt and helplessness as he stared at you. For a moment, it looked like he might try to push past anyway, but the weight of Maki’s glare and his own remorse kept him rooted in place. “...Benito Flakes,” he whispered brokenly, the words heavy with regret.
Yuta’s expression softened with deep worry as he looked at you, but when he glanced back at Toge and Panda, the disappointment in his eyes was unmistakable. “I’m really disappointed in both of you,” he said quietly, his voice carrying far more weight than shouting ever could. “This wasn’t just a harmless prank. You put her in real danger. Look at her, she’s freezing and terrified. You need to think about the consequences next time.”
Yuta slipped a strong, supportive arm firmly around your waist, taking almost all of your weight without hesitation. “It’s okay,” he murmured gently, close to your ear. “I’ve got you. We’re getting you back to the dorms right now. Just lean on me, I won’t let you fall.”
Maki stayed behind, rounding on Toge and Panda with fire blazing in her eyes. You couldn’t make out everything she was saying, but you were glad you weren’t on the receiving end of it.
By the time you finally changed into dry clothes in your room and collapsed into bed, the deep chill from the pond had settled heavily in your chest like a stubborn block of ice that refused to thaw. Your head throbbed dully, every muscle in your body ached, and a strange, feverish heat was already beginning to creep in behind the lingering cold. The numbness in your legs had slowly faded, but the exhaustion and persistent shivers remained.
You told yourself it was nothing, just a stupid prank gone wrong. You’d sleep it off and be fine for training tomorrow.
You were very, very wrong.
The dining hall was lively as usual for dinner, filled with the warm hum of conversation. It was build-your-own poke bowl night. One of the most popular meal options at the school. Students lined up at the long counter, scooping fluffy white rice into bowls before piling on their choice of protein, then adding colorful toppings. The options stretched across the station, making it easy to customize. Needless to say, the collective mood was high, except that at the second-year table, the mood was far from relaxed.
Toge and Panda sat side by side, both looking thoroughly miserable. Panda’s fur was still slightly ruffled, and a fresh bruise darkened his cheek from the beating Maki had given them earlier. Toge kept his head slightly lowered, violet eyes fixed on his mostly untouched poke bowl. He’d only added a small portion of rice and a few pieces of tuna and avocado, barely touching the toppings despite the appealing spread.
Maki sat across from them, aggressively mixing her own bowl, which was piled high with rice, salmon, plenty of avocado, and a generous drizzle of spicy mayo. She did so with more force than necessary. “You two got off way too easy,” she muttered, stabbing a piece of fish a little too hard. “Next time I won’t hold back.”
Panda let out a long, pathetic sigh as he poked listlessly at his oversized bowl. “We know… We feel awful about it.”
Toge gave a small, remorseful “Salmon…” in agreement, pushing a cube of avocado around with his chopsticks.
The group ate in relative silence for a few minutes before Panda glanced around the table, his ears twitching with worry. “Hey… where is she?” he asked. “We really wanted to apologize properly tonight.”
Yuta walked over, taking the seat next to Maki. He looked up from his bowl, expression soft but serious. “She said she was going to skip dinner and head to bed early. She was pretty shaken up after everything and still shivering a lot when I walked her back. I think she just wanted to warm up, maybe take a hot shower, and rest.”
Toge’s head lifted slightly at that. His violet eyes flickered with renewed concern. “...Mustard leaf?” The words came out almost hesitant, a clear question about how you were doing.
Yuta shook his head. “She said she’d be fine after some sleep. But… yeah, she didn’t look great. I’d be surprised if she didn’t catch a cold.”
Panda slumped further in his seat, poking at his poke bowl with even less enthusiasm. Maki rolled her eyes but didn’t disagree. The rest of dinner passed with heavy guilt hanging over Toge and Panda. Toge barely touched his food, his gaze drifting toward the dorms every few minutes, as if willing you to appear healthy and smiling, but you never did.
The next morning dawned cold and gray. Training was scheduled as usual, but when the second-years gathered on the field, you were nowhere to be seen.
“Where is she?” Maki asked, frowning as she scanned the area.
Yuta shrugged lightly. “Maybe she got called out on a quick mission? Gojo-sensei does that sometimes without much notice.”
Panda nodded, though he still looked guilty. “Yeah… probably. We’ll apologize when she gets back.”
Toge stayed silent, but his brow furrowed. Something didn’t feel right. After yesterday’s incident and how badly you’d been shivering, the idea of you being sent on a mission so soon sat wrong with him. “Salmon roe…” he murmured under his breath.
As training continued without you, Toge’s worry only deepened. By mid-afternoon, he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling anymore. While the others were distracted, he slipped away from the group and made his way toward the dorms, hands shoved deep in his pockets.
He stopped in front of your door, hesitating for a long moment. “Kelp…?” he called softly, knocking lightly. No answer.
After another pause, Toge gently pushed the door open, concern overriding his usual respect for privacy. “...Tuna mayo?”
The sight that greeted him made his heart drop.
You were lying on the floor halfway between your bed and the door, unconscious. Vomit stained the floor near your head and soaked part of your shirt. Your face was flushed with a high fever, skin unnaturally pale in some places and burning red in others. Harsh, shallow breaths escaped you, and even from the doorway, he could see you shivering despite the sweat on your forehead.
Toge’s eyes widened in pure panic. “Mustard leaf—!” The words came out sharp and urgent as he rushed forward, dropping to his knees beside you. His hands hovered for a second before he carefully turned you onto your side, checking your breathing. The heat radiating off your body was alarming.
“...Salmon,” he whispered, voice tight with fear and guilt as he brushed damp hair away from your fevered face. Without hesitation, he pulled off his jacket and draped it over you, then carefully lifted you into his arms, holding you close against his chest as he carried you toward your bed.
He laid you down gently, his movements careful and deliberate despite the panic in his chest. “Bonito flakes…” he murmured, the cursed speech soft and laced with worry as he grabbed a towel from your bathroom to clean your face and the worst of the mess on the floor.
The guilt crashed over him like a tidal wave. This is my fault. The thought repeated relentlessly in his mind as he worked. If he and Panda hadn’t rigged that stupid prank… if he had just called it off when you walked over instead of letting Panda trigger it… You wouldn’t be lying here like this…burning with fever, covered in vomit, and barely conscious. He’d wanted a harmless laugh at Maki’s expense. Instead, he’d hurt you.
And the worst part? Toge had been harboring a quiet but intense crush on you for months. The way your eyes lit up when you laughed, how you always tried to include him in conversations even when his words were limited, the way you looked at him without any fear or frustration over his cursed speech. It all made his chest feel warm in a way nothing else did. He liked you. A lot. And now that same girl he admired so much was suffering because of something he helped cause. The guilt felt ten times heavier because of it. How am I supposed to face you after this?
Toge’s hands trembled slightly as he finished cleaning. Once you were safely settled on your side, he pulled out his phone and sat on the edge of the bed, one hand resting lightly on your arm as if afraid you might slip away if he let go. His violet eyes flicked anxiously between your flushed face and the screen as he searched your symptoms: high fever after cold water exposure, vomiting, chills, unconsciousness.
The results made his stomach twist painfully. Possible complications from hypothermia, severe cold shock, or even the start of pneumonia. I did this to her… because I wanted to be funny.
Without hesitation, he opened his messages and texted Shoko Ieiri, explaining the situation and seeking guidance. He waited anxiously, gently brushing damp strands of hair from your forehead while keeping the towel ready in case you got sick again. Minutes felt like hours. Finally, his phone buzzed with a reply.
Dr. Ieiri: Bring her to me immediately if she stays unresponsive or the fever spikes dangerously high (over 104°F). For now:
- Keep her on her side in case she vomits again.
- Wipe her down with a cool (not ice-cold) damp cloth- forehead, neck, underarms, wrists. Don’t overdo it.
- Try to get fluids in her if she wakes. small sips of water or electrolyte drinks. No forcing it.
- Check her temperature every 30 minutes. Add blankets if she’s shivering hard, remove layers if she gets too hot. You want to keep her dry.
- Keep her comfortable and monitor breathing. I’m in the infirmary if you need to bring her over.
Toge read the instructions twice, committing every step to memory. He immediately set to work. First, he dampened a fresh cloth with cool water and began gently wiping your forehead, then your neck, underarms, and wrists in slow, careful strokes. The heat radiating from your skin worried him deeply; it was far too high. Every few minutes, he checked your breathing, relieved to hear the shallow but steady rhythm. When your body started shivering again, he pulled the blanket up over you, tucking it gently around your shoulders. A few minutes later, when your face grew even redder with fever, he carefully folded the blanket back down to your waist.
As he worked, Toge’s thoughts kept circling back to you. The girl who always made him wish his cursed speech didn’t limit him so much. The one whose smile made the restrictions feel a little less suffocating. The one he’d caught himself thinking about late at night, wondering what it would be like to say more than just ingredients to her. And now she was suffering because of his prank. The guilt felt crushing, made ten times worse by the warmth he felt for you.
At one point, while gently wiping your cheek, he hesitated. A small, desperate idea crossed his mind. He leaned in a little closer, brushing his fingers lightly against your fevered skin, and tried something he knew probably wouldn’t work.
“Heal…” he murmured, pushing a little cursed energy into the word, hoping just maybe that it could soothe or heal even a fraction of what you were going through. He paused, waiting. Nothing noticeable happened. Toge let out a soft, resigned breath and shrugged slightly to himself. Welp… it was worth a shot.
“Please,” he added quietly, voice full of quiet affection and regret. “Get better. Please.”
Hours passed in the quiet dorm room, the only sounds being your labored breathing and the occasional rustle of the cool cloth as Toge tended to you. He followed Shoko’s instructions with meticulous care, checking your temperature every thirty minutes, wiping down your fevered skin, adjusting the blanket when your shivering intensified, and sending her short, worried updates. The guilt never left him. It sat like a stone in his chest
You stirred restlessly, eyelids fluttering open in a hazy, fevered delirium. The world spun in a thick, suffocating fog of heat. Your body felt like it was burning from the inside out. Every joint ached with a deep, throbbing pain that made your skin fell like it was on fire, and a heavy, crushing weight pressed down on your chest, making each breath feel like you were drowning in warm syrup. Sweat soaked your clothes and the sheets beneath you. The room tilted and blurred around the edges, colors bleeding together like a watercolor left in the rain.
But above you, haloed in the soft afternoon light filtering through the window, was a figure with gentle violet eyes and platinum blonde hair. He looked ethereal… almost glowing with a soft, comforting light.
An angel, your fevered mind supplied desperately. An angel… came to take me away…
Your cracked, dry lips parted with great effort. You weakly reached one trembling hand upward, fingers brushing clumsily against his arm. “Angel…… so… pretty… glowing…” Your voice was a weak, raspy slur that was barely audible.
Toge’s eyes widened, a faint flush creeping up his neck beneath his collar. He caught your wandering hand gently in his, holding it steady while he continued wiping your burning forehead with the cool cloth. “Shh…” he whispered softly.
The delirium pulled you deeper. You shifted restlessly on the bed, head turning from side to side on the pillow as fragmented thoughts and feelings spilled out in broken, breathless mumbles. “Never… got to tell him…” You tugged weakly at his hand, eyes glassy and unfocused. “Liked Toge… so much… stupid rice ball boy… always so kind and… cute… eyes…” A tiny, delirious, pained laugh bubbled up from your throat before it dissolved into a weak cough that made your whole body tremble. “I’m dead… stupid pond…… never even confessed…”
You tried to sit up slightly, driven by fevered urgency, but your arms gave out and you collapsed back against the pillows with a soft whimper. Your free hand fumbled blindly toward his face, fingertips grazing his cheek for a moment. “Don’t want… to go… without telling… Toge… like you… a lot… idiot…”
Toge stayed perfectly still for a long moment, heart hammering hard in his chest. His violet eyes softened with a mix of surprise and deep affection. Hearing those raw, fragmented confessions even through the haze of a fever hit him harder than he expected. He gently squeezed your hand, thumb brushing slow, soothing circles over your knuckles while his other hand kept the cool cloth moving across your skin.
“...Tuna Mayo,” he whispered back, voice warm and reassuring as he leaned closer.
After a few more minutes of monitoring, Toge decided it was time to try getting some fluids into you. Shoko had been clear about small sips if possible. He reached for the bottle of water on your nightstand, pouring a small amount into a glass. He slipped one arm behind your shoulders, gently propping you up against the pillows.
“Salmon roe…” he murmured softly, bringing the glass to your lips. “Water.”
You turned your head away weakly at first, eyes still glassy and unfocused. “Can’t…” you slurred, voice hoarse and delirious. “Too hot…”
When he tried again, you pushed feebly at his hand, your movements sluggish but surprisingly stubborn in your fevered state. “No… Angel… don’t need… dead already…” You twisted your head from side to side, lips pressed tightly together, fighting him with what little strength your exhausted body could muster.
Toge’s expression remained patient and gentle, though concern deepened in his violet eyes. He set the glass down for a moment and adjusted his grip, carefully cradling the back of your head with one hand while using the other to bring a small amount of water to your lips on a spoon he’d found in your small kitchenette area, almost like feeding a baby bird.
“Shh… mustard leaf,” he coaxed quietly, voice soft and steady. “… salmon salmon.”
You suddenly knocked the spoon away with a weak, erratic swipe of your hand. Water spilled across the sheets and his t-shirt, but you didn’t seem to notice. Your breathing grew more agitated as you mumbled incoherently, voice cracking with desperation.
“Toge… want Toge… just Toge…” You clutched at his t-shirt with trembling fingers, pulling weakly as if trying to drag him closer. “Need to see him… one last time… please… Angel… bring Toge… before I go…”
Toge’s heart clenched. The raw need in your broken words, even through the fever, made something ache deep in his chest. He set his rational thoughts aside as his violet eyes filled with quiet resolve. You were too dehydrated and burning up, so he had to get fluids into you somehow.
After a brief hesitation, he took a small sip of water into his own mouth, holding it carefully. He leaned down slowly, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other gently tilted your chin. His lips pressed softly against yours in a careful, makeshift kiss, transferring the cool water into your mouth.
You made a small, surprised sound against him, but your fever-weakened body swallowed reflexively. Toge pulled back just enough to breathe, then repeated the process. Another small sip, another gentle press of his lips to yours, coaxing the water down your throat with patient care. Each time his mouth met yours, it was soft, never lingering longer than necessary, but full of quiet tenderness. His t-shirt brushed against you as he leaned over.
Between transfers, he whispered soothing words against your lips. You eventually stopped fighting, your body going limp and trusting in his arms as you swallowed the water he gave you. A few drops escaped the corners of your mouth, trailing down your chin, but you managed to take in a meaningful amount.
When he finally pulled back, Toge’s cheeks were faintly flushed. He wiped your chin gently with the cloth, then brushed his thumb across your lower lip, eyes watching you with deep affection.
You mumbled one last incoherent phrase, something about his smile, before slipping back into a restless, fevered sleep, your hand still loosely clutching his t-shirt.
After another round of carefully getting water into you, he noticed how violently you were shivering again despite the blankets. Your fever was still burning high, and your weak grip on his t-shirt hadn’t loosened. With a soft, worried “Mustard leaf…”, he made a decision.
He kicked off his shoes and carefully crawled onto the bed beside you. The mattress dipped under his weight as he shifted closer. He slipped one arm under your shoulders and gently pulled you against his chest, cradling you securely. His other arm wrapped around your back, holding you close. The simple black t-shirt he wore was soft and warm from his body heat, and he tucked the blankets around both of you.
“Shh… salmon,” he whispered against the top of your head, voice low and soothing. “I’ve got you.”
You instinctively curled into him, seeking the comfort of his warmth, your face pressed against his chest as broken mumbles continued to slip out. Toge held you tighter, one hand rubbing slow circles on your back while the other kept the cool cloth ready to press against your neck whenever the fever spiked.
Time blurred. He checked your temperature repeatedly, sent updates to Shoko, and stayed awake the entire night, whispering quiet reassurances every time you stirred or whimpered. His platinum blonde hair fell messily across his forehead as exhaustion tugged at him, but he refused to sleep.
Sometime deep in the night, the fever finally broke.
You woke slowly, awareness returning in fragments. Your body felt heavy and weak, but the burning heat was gone, replaced by a clammy, exhausted chill. Your head throbbed dully, and your throat felt raw. The first thing you registered was warmth — real, solid warmth surrounding you. Strong arms were holding you close, and your cheek was pressed against someone’s chest. You could hear a steady heartbeat beneath your ear.
Your eyes fluttered open. Toge was there. He was lying on your bed with you cradled against his chest, one arm securely around your back and the other resting gently on your waist. His platinum blonde hair was tousled, violet eyes heavy with exhaustion, but immediately softening with relief when they met yours.
You blinked slowly, brain struggling to catch up. “Toge…?” Your voice came out hoarse and disbelieving. “What… why are you… here?”
Toge’s expression shifted to something incredibly gentle. He didn’t pull away. Instead, his hand moved up to brush damp hair from your face, thumb lingering on your cheek.
“Kelp,” he murmured softly, the single word carrying layers of relief, worry, and quiet affection.
You stared at him, memories slowly trickling back — the pond, the cold, the fever, the delirious dreams. Heat rushed to your already flushed cheeks as fragments of your sleep-talking came rushing back. Had you really said all those things out loud?
“I… I thought I was dying,” you whispered, voice cracking. “I thought you were an angel…OMG!”
Toge’s eyes crinkled with the faintest hint of a smile. He shook his head slightly. “Benito Flakes.”
You tried to sit up, suddenly overwhelmed by the realization of how close you were pressed against his chest in just his black t-shirt, his arms still around you. Your arms shook with weakness as you pushed yourself upward.
Toge immediately reacted. His arm around your waist tightened gently but firmly, pulling you back down against him. “Benito Flakes,” he said softly, a clear command to stay put. His other hand moved to your shoulder, guiding you back to his chest with careful strength. You landed against him with a small, embarrassed huff, face burning even hotter. Before you could protest, Toge reached over to the nightstand and pulled out his phone. His thumb moved quickly across the screen.
A moment later, he turned it toward you.
“Do you really think I look like an angel?”
You felt mortified. Your face probably looked like a tomato at this point. You buried it against his chest for a second, groaning weakly, before nodding once, shyly. Toge’s chest vibrated with a soft, silent laugh. He typed again and showed you the screen.
“Cute. I wonder what else this angel heard? Do you remember?”
You let out a mortified whine, trying and failing to hide your face again. “Toge… stop…” You mumbled, voice still raspy. But you couldn’t help the tiny, embarrassed smile tugging at your lips. He kept going, clearly enjoying your reaction now that you were awake and safe. Another message popped up.
“I am an Angel and a stupid rice ball boy, huh? But you still seemed to want to see me in your last moments.”
You groaned louder, weakly swatting at his arm. “I was dying! Fever brain! You can’t hold that against me…”
Toge’s eyes sparkled with quiet amusement. He shifted slightly so he could see your face better, still keeping you securely cradled against his chest. His free hand typed another message, the screen glowing softly between you.
“Too late. Already holding it. And you. Very carefully.”
Your heart stuttered. The playful words combined with the way his arm tightened just a fraction around you sent a different kind of warmth through your still-weak body. You peeked up at him, biting your lip.
“You’re evil,” you whispered, voice hoarse but fond. “Taking advantage of a sick person.”
Toge raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching. He typed quickly.
“Evil angel? New nickname. I like it.”
You let out a soft laugh that turned into a small cough. Toge immediately rubbed your back soothingly, his touch lingering. When you calmed down, he showed you the next message.
“Be honest. How long have you been hiding that crush on your favorite rice ball boy?”
The romantic tension thickened in the quiet room. You could feel the steady beat of his heart under your cheek, the warmth of his body against yours, and the gentle way his fingers traced small patterns on your back. It was impossible to hide anymore.
“…A while,” you admitted quietly, voice barely above a whisper. “Longer than I want to admit. You’re always so calm and kind, even when you go into goblin mode and cause mischief. It’s… unfair how cute you are.”
Toge went still for a second. Then he let out a soft breath, almost a chuckle, and typed again.
“Unfair? You’re the one who smiles at me like that every day. Makes it hard to speak… even more than usual.”
Your breath caught. The air between you felt charged, heavy with everything that had been unspoken for so long. You tilted your head up to look at him properly. His violet eyes were softer than you’d ever seen them, filled with warmth and something deeper.
You swallowed. “So… what happens now that the almost-dead girl confessed?”
Toge held your gaze for a long moment. Then he typed one last message, turning the phone so you could read it clearly.
“Now the rice ball boy says… he likes you too. A lot. And he’s not letting you go back to sleep until you drink more water.”
He set the phone aside and reached for the glass again, but this time there was a small, playful smile in his eyes as he waited for your reaction.
That’s when a hazy memory resurfaced. Soft lips against yours, the cool taste of water, the gentle way he held your face. Your eyes widened. You suddenly started coughing, a mix of surprise and lingering rawness in your throat, and began wiggling weakly out of his grip. “We… you… me?!? Did we? Did you kiss me?!?”
Toge’s hand paused mid-reach for the glass. His violet eyes blinked once, then softened with a mix of amusement and mild embarrassment. He didn’t let you pull away completely; his arm stayed loosely around your waist, keeping you close but giving you just enough space to sit up a little.
He picked up his phone again and typed quickly, cheeks faintly pink beneath his usual calm exterior.
“Had to get water in you. You kept fighting the spoon. Mouth-to-mouth was… the most efficient.”
You stared at the screen, face burning hotter than your fever had been. “Efficient?!” you squeaked, voice still raspy. You covered your face with both hands, peeking at him through your fingers. “Toge Inumaki, you kissed me while I was half-dead and delirious?!”
Toge’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. He gently tugged one of your hands away from your face so he could see you better. His expression was playful but incredibly soft. He typed again.
“You were calling me an angel and saying you liked me. Seemed like the perfect moment. Would you rather I let your shrivel up like a mummy?”
You groaned, half-laughing, half-mortified, and weakly swatted at his chest. “You’re terrible. The worst rice ball boy ever. I was dying and you took advantage to steal my first kiss with what I thought was an angel!”
Toge raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying this way too much now that you were awake and teasing him back. He typed one more message and held the phone up with a mischievous glint in his violet eyes.
“First kiss? So you're saying that there will be more? Then I’ll make the second one better.”
Your heart raced. The tension between you thickened, warm and electric. You bit your lip, staring at him. At his tousled platinum blonde hair, his soft violet eyes, and the way he was still holding you so close against his chest.
Toge set the phone aside and reached for the glass of water again. He handed it to you carefully, supporting your back as you sat up a little more in his lap. You took it with shaky hands and chugged the rest of it in several greedy gulps. The cool liquid felt like heaven on your raw throat. When you lowered the empty glass, you let out a long sigh of relief.
“I feel… so much better,” you whispered, voice still raspy but stronger. “Still weak, but the burning is mostly gone. Thank you, Toge.”
He watched you intently, something deeper flickering in his gaze. After a moment, he gently took the glass from your hand and set it on the nightstand. His palm came up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing slowly across your lower lip.
Then he typed one last message on his phone and showed it to you, eyes never leaving yours.
“Can I kiss you for real this time?”
Your breath caught. The room suddenly felt smaller, warmer. You searched his face for even a hint of hesitation and found none only quiet longing and affection.
“Yes,” you breathed, barely audible.
Toge didn’t need to be told twice. He leaned in slowly, giving you a moment to change your mind, before his lips met yours. The kiss started soft. All gentle and careful, mindful of how weak you still were. But the moment you kissed him back, threading your fingers into his hair, something ignited.
The kiss deepened quickly. Toge tilted his head, pulling you closer as his mouth moved against yours with growing hunger. His hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he kissed you harder, hotter. You melted into him, a soft sound escaping your throat that he swallowed eagerly.
The make-out quickly turned steamy. Toge shifted so you were straddling his lap, his free arm wrapping firmly around your waist to hold you flush against his chest. His kisses grew more intense. Slow, deep, and passionate, with occasional gentle nips at your lower lip that made your head spin for an entirely different reason than the fever. You kissed him back just as fervently, hands roaming over his shoulders and chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through the thin t-shirt.
When you finally broke apart for air, both of you were breathing heavily. Toge rested his forehead against yours, violet eyes half-lidded and dark with want. His lips were slightly swollen, and a faint blush dusted his cheeks. He pulled back just enough to type one short message, showing it to you with a small, breathless smile.
“Better?”
You laughed softly, still catching your breath, and leaned in to kiss him again.
“Much better,” you whispered against his lips.