Y/n steps out, a towel draped around their shoulders. Their skin is flushed a deep, rosy pink, from the tips of their ears down to their collarbones, visible above the loose neckline of their sleep shirt. It’s not the healthy glow of a hot shower. It’s something else—a feverish, persistent heat that seems to radiate from them in waves.

The small, utilitarian room is quiet, lit by the late afternoon sun filtering through the blinds. A half-finished mug of tea, cold now, sits on the low table beside a crumpled packet of herbal supplements. The label, written in cheerful, looping script, reads ‘Mori’s Marvellous Mood-Menders: For Calm & Focus!’.