It takes Yuna a while to understand the sensation she's feeling as being awake. It's a thankless feeling, stuffed with a splitting headache and lined with the taste of vomit on her tongue. She groans in malcontentment at the cruelty of the waking world, wishing she could go back to sleep, but it is not to be. The pounding in her skull makes sure of that, as does one other distraction.

"!"

Yuna curls up at the dagger-like sound piercing its way through her ears.

"sry sry" Hana amends with a whisper.
"got u some painkillers"

Exhausted, Yuna makes a miserable sound at the back of her throat to convey her sentiment, then, finally, cracks her eyes open. Her room. She's in her room. Her bed. With Hana sitting in her gaming chair in a position Yuna could comfortably sustain for maybe a few seconds - sitting on one of her legs with the other hanging over the armrest, her phone in hand and headphones plugged in. Yuna never noticed the difference, but Hana insists the sound is better with a cable.

Ugh. She feels like throwing up again. She doesn't remember the first time she did, nor what caused it, but the acrid tang in her mouth and prior experience both give her a pretty good idea. Feeling like she's lifting the weight of all the troubles of the world and not her hand, she extends it to Hana.

A box with packets of pills simply materialises in her palm. She throws the girl a severe look.

"(・・;)
gimme a sec"

Hana takes the box out of Yuna's still outstretched hand and squeezes out three pills. It used to be one that did the trick. By now, two only abate the pain a little. Yuna wonders when three will become too little. She's already a pill-popper as is. Sometimes, weeks will go by when she has to take some every day to push back the onsets. She'll probably need them just not to have headaches sometime next year at this rate.

She washes the painkillers down with… something sugary, drinking through a straw from a glass held by Hana that she's sure was nowhere in the room a second ago. She pushes the thought away, like the box. Like other things.

"better?" Hana asks as soon as she swallows the pills.

Were it anyone else, Yuna would snark something about how she should ask again after the pills make it down to her stomach. But this is Hana, and as soon as she swallows the drugs, all the pain she's felt a second ago vanishes as if with a touch of magic. No matter how tempting, Yuna is never the one to seek out Hana's remedies. If she were to get used to them, and then lose them… she doesn't know what she'd do. Something drastic, for sure.

"Yeah." She doesn't say any thanks. It's Hana's own big mouth that landed her here. What was it this time? She can't even remember. Not really. There are impressions in her mind. Tattered remnants of emotions and images and sounds and text and touch and pain and fire and love and children and safety and anger and illness and hurt and frustration and mother and sister and sweat and skin and under and nails and lust and cruel and caress and pleasure and not and really and- and- !

Her nails dig deep into the skin of her scalp, the breaking of it a pleasant, grounding feeling in the sea of- of-

She drags her fingers across her face, leaving angry-hot trails in their wake.

"I'm sorry." Hana says , drawing a startled look from Yuna.

When was the last time she heard her speak? Really speak? She can't remember. Or is it they that are mute deaf and dumb? She can't remember. What did she hear? What did Hana say? She can't remember. Can't put it together. It's all there. All there! It's in her mind and filled to the bursting and she has to, she needs to pull it out and make sense of it or else crack her skull open to let it out. Something. Anything. She needs to make sense or she needs it out!

The pain slicing her skin stops, her arms, Yuna finds after a brief struggle, pinned in a grip so impossibly firm she can't fathom how it could ever be so gentle.

"I'm sorry."