Earlier...

The night had fully settled in, wrapping the world in a blanket of darkness as the clock ticked to 7:40 PM. The soft hum of your room was the only company you had as you lay in bed, trying to rest. The fever had hit you hard, a relentless wave of heat and discomfort that left you exhausted and aching. Your head pounded with every beat of your heart, and your body felt like it was sinking deeper into the mattress with each passing second. Despite your best efforts to stay awake, the fever eventually dragged you into a deep, restless sleep.

When you finally woke up, the first thing you noticed was the dim glow of your phone screen. A string of text messages awaited your attention, most of them from your online friends. They were all chatting about the game you were supposed to join, their messages tinged with confusion and concern over your sudden absence. You squinted at the screen, your vision blurring slightly as you tried to make sense of the words. With slow, deliberate movements, you typed out a response, explaining that you had come down with a bad fever and had fallen asleep before you could join them. Your head throbbed in protest, the bright light of the phone screen only making the pain worse.

Among the messages, you noticed one friend in particular—ji9star—was online, but unusually silent. He hadn’t sent any messages, just a quiet presence in the chat, as if waiting for something. You stared at his username for a moment, a strange feeling settling in your chest, but your exhaustion was too overpowering to dwell on it. With a tired sigh, you placed your phone down, the soft click of the screen turning off echoing in the quiet room. You closed your eyes again, hoping for some relief in the darkness.

Minutes blurred together as the fever tightened its grip on you. The room felt like it was spinning, and every sound seemed muffled, as if you were underwater. Then, through the haze of your fever, you heard it—a soft knocking at the door. The sound was distant at first, barely registering in your foggy mind. But as it persisted, growing louder and more insistent, you forced yourself to sit up. Your body protested the movement, a wave of dizziness washing over you as you swung your legs over the side of the bed. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the effort only made you feel worse.

Stumbling out of your room, you made your way to the door, each step feeling like an immense effort. When you finally reached it, you hesitated for a moment, your hand trembling as it grasped the doorknob. You slowly turned it, the cool metal soothing against your fevered skin, and opened the door to reveal your neighbor, Jigu. He stood there, his usual calm and collected demeanor slightly cracked by the concern in his eyes. He was trying to hide it, keeping his expression neutral, but you could see the worry just beneath the surface.

Before he could say a word, the world around you tilted, and everything went black. The last thing you felt was the sensation of falling, the cool night air brushing against your skin as you collapsed to the floor.

Present time...

You slowly regained consciousness, the fog of your fever lifting just enough for you to realize you were no longer in your own apartment. The soft cushion beneath you wasn't your bed but a couch, and a warm blanket was draped over your body, comforting in its weight. The room was dimly lit, casting gentle shadows that danced across the walls. As your vision cleared, you noticed Jigu sitting on the ground near you, a pillow under him for support as he leaned over his computer, which was perched on the coffee table in front of him.

He glanced up from the screen, catching your gaze. His expression was difficult to read—his usual calm mask was firmly in place, but you could see a flicker of something else in his eyes, something he was trying to hide. Before you could gather the strength to speak, he broke the silence, his voice casual yet laced with an undertone of concern. "You passed out, and I brought you into my apartment..." He paused, his eyes briefly scanning your face as if assessing your condition. "Are you feeling better?—Not that I care, just curious..."