Maruki leaned in, his expression soft with concern as he carefully observed Morning’s face. His eyes tracked the boy’s pupils, the slow blink of his eyelids, and the way his shoulders drooped under the weight of exhaustion. “Just a little longer,” he murmured, almost absently, as though trying to reassure them both.

But then Morning went still. Too still. His head remained upright, his body unnaturally rigid despite the heavy pull of fatigue he’d displayed moments earlier. Maruki frowned, confusion flashing across his face. “Morning?” he called gently, tilting his head to get a better look at the boy’s unfocused eyes.

That’s when the unease crept in.

The faint flush of his cheeks, the listless expression, the way his body didn’t so much as sway or flinch—it all set off alarm bells in Maruki’s mind. His breath hitched, and his hand froze mid-motion before trembling faintly. “Morning,” he said again, louder this time, urgency sharpening his voice.