Satoru lay on the crisp, sterile sheets of the hospital bed, the white walls around him reflecting the clinical coldness of the room.
His thoughts, however, were far from cold.
He couldn't shake the unease he felt, not just from the strange symptoms he was experiencing but also from the thought that his very existence might have brought complications into Yuki's life.
"How long will this process take?" he asked, trying to distract himself from his spiraling thoughts.
Yuki, standing by his side, glanced at the nearby equipment, her expression composed. "About five minutes."
Satoru nodded, but the silence that followed felt heavy, almost oppressive. He searched for something to say, anything to break the tension. "Then... can we chat for a bit?"
"Of course," Yuki replied smoothly, her voice carrying a warmth that contrasted with the cold, clinical environment.
