The side she fixed suddenly plopped down on the ground, making the entire tent fall due to her sloppy fixup. "Yoru dear?" She simply huffed and properly set it up this time. "What?" She attempted to sound like she usually does (lackadaisical and indifferent) but her voice came out shaky and weak.
... why is... everything blurry..?
"Yoru dear..?"
... it's cold...
"Yoru-?!"
... it's so cold...
"Yoon! Something's up with Yoru!"
"Kaa.... ong..?!"
"... ha.... happened?!"
"... don't.... ow.. just... this!"
"... sister?"
"Yoru!"
"Yoru-san!"
And suddenly, everything faded away.
✧══════•❁❀❁•══════✧
"It's just a fever," Yoon stated after placing a cold rag on Yoru's forehead. His lips were set into a straight line, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. No one else but him, the sick warrior, and Hak occupied the tent to avoid having the others get infected by her sickness. "But I wonder why... I thought idiots can't catch a cold."
It was obvious that the self-proclaimed genius pretty boy tried to lighten the mood up. However, his sharp eyes quickly caught the Thunder Beast's shoulders' tensing up in worry, those sapphire-blue eyes glinting in immense concern. The young all-rounder caught the former general's eyes. "What's with you?"
Hak's eyes cleared up somewhat upon receiving the question. "... stupid sister has never caught a cold before." For as long as he had known her, his sister resembled a figure that seemed unbeatable, as if nothing could ever bring her down. Hak realized that in this journey they had taken, that image of a warrior that used to be untouchable became one of vulnerability and feral.
The walls surrounding the Strategist's true self slowly crumbled into dust. In a steady moment in time, they had seen who she was. She was not an unbeatable warrior... she was just human like them who just happened to be the reincarnation of a Dragon God.
"Then that's a plausible reason why she suddenly got sick," Yoon stated as he changed the wet towel from Yoru's forehead. "It might be because of that why she suddenly got like this. Plus, it's probably the stress and and numerous fights we got ourselves into that made her so susceptible to illnesses."
Still, Hak wasn't convinced by Yoon's words. He held his Hsu Quandao tightly, his thoughts diving too deep in his head. What if this wasn't some kind of a simple illness? I have this very, very bad feeling that this is way worse than Yoon make it out to be. Because for some reason, Hak was restless.
And he couldn't stay still, his finger always tapping the handle of his blade and his foot tapping the dirt ground.
When he snapped out of his thoughts, Yoon was nowhere to be seen. He was left alone in the tent with the ill warrior. Her eyebrows furrowed in slight disdain, her cheeks a bit red from her sickness and sweat slid down from her neck to the cheap bed sheet she slept on.
It was obvious to him that his sister dreamt something unpleasant, something that made her face contort vaguely into fear. Without warning, his sister suddenly sat down, eyes wide in fear. He found himself approaching her in haste, hands on her shoulders. He tried to keep her in place, just in case she was still trapped in her nightmare.
