Settia had slept restlessly again, so Mizuki didn’t have the heart to wake him up when he left that morning. His own body felt sluggish, heavy with lack of sleep, as well as all kinds of guilt; for not working on his essays; but moreover for the reality check he’d had over the past few days, and the fact that he had needed one.

It had been strange to leave the house with Settia still asleep on the futon, rather than being seen off by his usual cheeriness. But they’d already booked the seminar room, so he couldn’t stand Noel up. Besides, he thought, Settia probably needed the rest.

A quiver went through him. It was really strange how used he had become to the other man’s company, although… Settia still seemed to insist he wasn’t a man at all. Mizuki didn’t know what to think anymore, but what else was he supposed to think? He could only hope Settia would reveal more about himself at some point.

He had left the room as quietly as he could, and offered a soft; “See you later. I won’t be long,” setting out for the crisp, cold world outside.

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“Wanna go out and grab something to eat later?” Noel offered, tapping his pen on the table, filling the seminar room with a metallic echo.

“Sorry, I’ve got some things to do today.” Mizuki said, looking up from his notes.

“You’ve been awfully busy lately?” his friend countered, suspiciously. “Don’t tell me you’re at home crying about history all day? January is ages away!”

“No it isn’t,” Mizuki rolled his eyes. “You’re way too chill about this. And no, I’m not. Things have just been…hectic.”

He hadn’t told anyone yet about the man staying at his house. What would he say? Of course, anyone who had been out last night could’ve seen them walking hand in hand through town, but... He’d been oblivious to it then. He wouldn’t know how to respond to questions about Settia; where he was from, where they’d met, or…other obnoxious questions. Mizuki didn’t mind keeping this secret to himself for a while. At least until he had more answers himself.

“That’s the same thing.”

“Huh?”

“Hectic and busy,” Noel played up. “So, what are you doing today?”

“I’ve got some shopping to do, and then…” he hesitated. “I have plans with a friend.”

“Who?”

“Nobody you know,” he tried to dismiss the question as casually as he could.

Noel shugged. “Suit yourself.”

He seemed to give it a rest.

“Hey,” Mizuki broke the silence again. “Do you ever think it’s…strange how people care so much about things that happened way in the past, and ignore the things happening around them?”

“Say what?” Noel furrowed his brow. “We’re historians, we’re supposed to think about the past.”

“Yeah, no. Nevermind.”

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“I’m home!” he called out, kicking his shoes off in the small entrance space, lowering his bags onto the floor. There was no reply. He thought there was a chill in the air, but then, he’d just been outside.

“Settia? Listen, I remembered what you said about wanting to make a gingerbread house. I mean, I’m not all that interested, but…I thought we could try…” he rambled on as he hung his coat and put his shoes away.

The truth was he had wanted to do something for Settia, as a sort of thanks, even though he had signed them up for both charity events without Mizuki knowing about it. And Settia had seemed very excited about the idea before. “I only got one of those ready-made kits, so don’t expect anything fancy but—“

He realized it was still eerily quiet. Casting a glance around the room, he noticed Settia was nowhere to be seen. He wasn’t sitting upright on the bed, waiting for him as usual. It was only when he looked down, that he saw him; still on his futon. He was on his side, cocooned in his blankets. His breathing seemed irregular.

“Settia..?”

Mizuki dropped the bags on the table. He crouched on the floor next to him. “Are you okay…?”

He peeled away one of the blankets. Settia’s skin was unnaturally pale. His hair seemed listless; even the shine seemed to be gone. When he reached out to touch him, Mizuki found that his skin was cold to the touch.

The room too, he noted, was cold. Too cold.