The next morning I wake up with a pounding in my head. A thin layer of sweat cloaks my body. When I raise my arm to push hair out of my eyes, gravity seems to have intensified and it falls back onto the sheets with a thud. Why is my body so heavy?

Someone has changed my clothes. I glance down and see a thin, silk pajama set stuck onto my thin body. What happened while I was unconscious? Yesterday's events weigh down on me and I grit my teeth with the little strength I have left. Oliver…That bastard. And my…A pain slices through my frontal lobe and my thoughts come to an abrupt halt.

A dim light creeps into the room as the door opens. Through my hazy vision, I see a small figure approach with something in its hands. She sits down beside me and flickers on a lamp. The brightness worsens my headache and I squeeze my eyes shut. Turn that damned thing off…

Some cool and wet drips onto my forehead and I crack open my eye to see her dabbing away sweat with a damp washcloth. The bit of coldness feels rejuvenating and I long for more. Just my forehead is not enough.

She watches me with concern, slightly biting down on her lower lip. Her hair is tied up into a short ponytail, reinforced with two bobby pins. A bandage is wrapped around her hand, which she moves very gingerly. Why is she here? I don't want her to see me in this weakened state.

The heat is unbearable. With a swift kick, I shove the blankets onto the floor. She frowns and goes over to pick it up, but I grab her wrist.

"Leave it." My voice comes out hoarse and strained.

I can't stand the heat. Did someone meddle with the thermostat? I glance over at the bowl of cold water she placed on the nightstand. If only I could reach over and drench my entire body in it. The only heat I ever enjoy is the warm, sticky flow of another person's blood. But this burning under my skin drives me crazy.

I grab the middle of my silk shirt and yank it open, buttons flying off. A partially healed cut runs down the center of my chest. I run my finger over it, feeling the jagged skin and crusty, dried blood. I should clean it.

"Don't do that. You'll reopen the cut." She urges.

She lifts the washcloth from my forehead and dips it back into the water, then wrings it. As she motions the place it back on my temple, I grab her hand and move it to my bare chest. The cool liquid instantly chills my scorching skin. She squeaks and gulps, but continues to gently dab at it. I close my eyes and relish in the momentary comfort, ignoring the stinging pain every time the cloth touches my cut.

As if in a daze, she moves the washcloth all over my upper body and wipes away the sweat, stopping only to dip it more water. I let her pamper me for a while, feeling the steady rhythm of her touch. My fever seems to evaporate the liquid within a few seconds, but she persistently sponges the area until my temperature stabilizes.

Suddenly, the movement stops and I open my eyes to see her getting up with the bowl in her hands. As she turns her back, I pine for more and grab the hem of her shirt. With a small tug, she stops and turns. I stare at her in defeat.

"Don't go." I implore.

She gives a small smile. "I'm just going to get you some food."

I grimace. Right now, I'm far from hungry. But my limbs cry out in exhaustion and I reluctantly allow her to bring me some nourishment. I want to regain my strength as quickly as possible so I can pay a visit to that bastard's house. With a lighter.

What's taking so long? Hurry up…The room feels strangely large. With a slight creak, the door cracks open. Took her long enough. I should chain her to my bedpost and keep her from leaving. But some random fucking maid walks in instead.

Frustration flares in my delirious mind. Go away! I don't want to see this bitch. Why do I have so many servants? What do I need them for? As if I care about the lawn or how much dust accumulates in the house. I'll fire them all. I just need her. She can do the cooking and cleaning. Everyone else just leave. No…those dimwits know too much. I can't let them go. Dammit.

"I've brought a humidifier to help alleviate your symptoms, Len-sama." The dumb maid says, just barging in.

I growl. "Get that thing away from here and never come back!"

The woman scurries away. Ugh…now my throat hurts. And my head. And everywhere. I can't breathe. My nose is so clogged. Maybe that humidifier was a good idea. "I hate this!" I croak.

A sweet, angelic voice floats through the air. "Try not to shout too much, you'll strain your throat."

She breezes in with a silver tray set with a bowl, a cup, a spoon, and a napkin. So that's all. Then what took so long?!

Warm steam wafts from the bowl as she sets it on the nightstand and I can breathe a little. It smells good. But my stomach twists and turns with discomfort. I don't want it. She scoops up a small spoonful and brings it to my lips. The soup is blazing.

"Hot…" I moan.

She chuckles. "Sorry." Her mouth puckers into a plush, cherry red "O" while she gently blows the soup. This time, I grudgingly open my mouth and accept the food. I can't really taste it, but its warmth feels rather nice. It feels…familiar.

"Come on, Len. you need to eat to regain your strength." She calls.

Her long, blond hair is pulled into her usual messy ponytail. She wears an apron that's slightly too big over her elementary school uniform. Senior year. She kept gloating over going to a fancy new middle school in just a few months. I was a bit saddened that we would be separated, but at least I still had O-kun with me until I graduated the next year.

"Fine…" I slurp up the hot soup she feeds to me and feel its contents settle in my body. This isn't quite so bad.

Then a pungent odor slices through the air and I automatically clap a hand over my mouth. I know that smell. Mother used to get it out every time we got sick. The inhumane medicine smelt like bitter herbs and fish mixed with an attempt at a "cherry" flavor. It tasted far worse. I can't stand it. I would rather suffer in bed for the next month.

"No!" I shriek, and pull the covers over my head.

She giggles and strokes the top of my hair. "Please, Len. It will make you feel better."

I frown and roll over to the other side of the bed. Absolutely not. I refuse to submit. She crawls on top of the bed and sits next to me, and I consider escaping through the window.

"Silly. Just one spoonful." She pleads. I sigh. She wins every time.

I slowly pull down the covers and open my mouth. As soon as my lips part, she sticks the cold metal spoon in and in an instant, I'm flooded with disgust. Why must I be tormented at such a young age? I can't wait until I can go to middle school too. Then maybe I can make my own decisions more. Maybe I can stand up to father once I get bigger. I can't wait until that day.

Even rolling around tires me. The blankets are soft and the room is quiet; I can faintly smell her sweet scent. Soon, my eyelids start to droop and I feel myself dozing off. It's peaceful. I want to savor this moment.

Suddenly I feel her weight shifting on the bed and I see her figure retreating as I crack open my eye. Wait…what is she doing? She promised to stay with me. She can't leave me. She can't abandon me, just like mother. I don't want to be alone. Was she planning to leave the minute I fell asleep? How can she do this to me?

I force my body to move and lunge at her. I push her down onto the bed and hold her there, hugging her with my body. I won't let you go.

"H-Huh? Len?!" She cries. Her blue eyes widen in surprise.

She's all I have left. I can't lose her.

"Onee-chan…" I feebly murmur. My body burns and I feel my strength slipping away.

She smells like…citrus? That's odd. She usually smells like bananas.

Soon, my arms give out and I collapse on top of her. Darkness comes swirling in and I feel a soft hand on my cheek before fainting.


When I open my eyes, it's already dark outside. How long was I asleep? My head feels much clearer and I'm much more alert; that medicine must have worked. The medicine…who fed it to me? My sister…

I quickly sit up, nearly bonking into her. She smiles and places her palm on my forehead. Was she here the entire time?

"Rin? What happened?" I choke out.

"You were really delirious. I was getting worried, good thing you're somewhat back to normal." She replies.

Back to normal? Did I act differently? All I remember is lying down, and a girl taking care of me. A kind, warm girl with a fragrant scent. A pang flashes in my heart and I subconsciously reach out to her. That warmth…it makes me feel strange, uneasy.

I slide my arm around her narrow shoulders and pull her into my chest. Still dizzy, I fall back against the pillows, dragging her along with me. I can sense her breath tickling my sternum through my thin shirt. Her soft hair fans out across my neck, and I catch a whiff of her shampoo. I move my fingers down from her shoulder and stroke the creamy, smooth skin on her arm.

"Len?" She interjects, slightly alarmed.

My mind comes to a standstill. Involuntary tears prick the bottom of my eyes as I suck in a gasp of air. This light, floating feeling inside of me is surely due to my fever. It's odd. Acting spoiled, being pampered. These actions were a thing of the past. But today, it was as if I had fallen through time, back to my life during elementary school.

"Thank you." I mumble. I don't know if she heard me, but a small hand soon wrapped around my waist and squeezed it. Returning the gesture, I enveloped her with both of my arms and held her there.