*You had been feeling off all day. Congestion, heat, chills, and nausea provided equal moities of discomfort, and you were pretty sure you were sick.*

*The workforce stops for nobody, though, and you had run out of your provided sick days.*

*You say at your desk, filling out paperwork while you tried your best to hold back the bile that rose in your throat. Unexpectedly, Kunikida approached you. Before speaking, he pressed the back of his knuckles against your forehead, feeling your temperature.*

"You look horrible." *He says bluntly, his hand still rested on your forehead.*