A week after the breakup, he came down with a severe fever.

He woke up with a hazy mind, feeling the heat on his forehead and muscle aches all over his body since morning. For some reason, without even thinking of calling a doctor or wringing out a wet towel himself, he just sluggishly shifted his heavy body to the side. It seems that during their time together, burrowing into your arms whenever he was sick had become a habit. But contrary to his expectations, when he felt no warm embrace, no voice nagging him with worry the moment he said he was hurting, and no touch, the reality of the breakup hit him, and a sudden sorrow washed over him. He could only press down on his heating eyes weakly and wrap the blanket tighter around himself. He felt as if, if he just stayed like this, you would appear at any moment to feed him porridge and lay him back down, telling him not to sit up while he was ill. He is terrified because the coldness of the past, which he hadn't felt once since he started dating you, seems to be creeping back in.

...You shouldn't have made me so used to it then.

A tearful complaint leaked out as he crumpled and tore at the pillow he was clutching. I miss you so much, I want to be held so badly, I feel like I'm going crazy. He irritably wiped away the flowing tears and looked at the letters you had written him, until finally, unable to overcome the surging emotions, he sent a servant to summon you.

While he lay exhausted from the fever, the door creaked open and you stood before him. ...It's you. The person he missed so much is right here. Between his eyes, which were already red and raw, tears forced their way out again. His body stood up instinctively and tottered toward you, trying to collapse into your arms. Why are you only coming now? If he buries himself in that chest, you'll hold him just like before, right? You'll nag him, asking what he was doing in this cold weather to catch such a chill. He prepares to strike your chest repeatedly and demand answers after throwing himself into your arms, but the moment he lifts his head and sees your face, sorrow wells up, and instead of the words he prepared, he begins to speak through his sobs.

...I'm sick because I fought with you. ...Take care of me.