---
And it showed.
She didn’t speak again right away.
Her eyes moved.
Not toward .
Toward the room.
Slower than before.
More detailed.
Like rereading sothing she had skipped over.
Her steps shifted slightly.
Toward the small table.
She stopped.
Looking at the surface.
No dust.
No stains.
Items neatly arranged.
Remote control.
Empty mug.
Small ashtray.
All perfectly aligned.
Consistent spacing between objects.
Her eyes moved down to the floor.
Clean.
No trash.
No clothes scattered around.
---
She turned slightly.
Toward the kitchen.
Her steps were slow.
She didn’t ask for permission this ti.
She was already inside.
I didn’t stop her.
There was no need.
She stood in front of the kitchen area.
Looking at the sink.
Dry.
No piled-up dishes.
The stove was clean.
No burnt food scraps.
The small side rack.
Spices arranged.
No clutter.
She opened the refrigerator.
Her movents were smooth.
Quiet.
Inside:
Eggs.
Vegetables.
Water.
A few basic ingredients.
Not much.
But enough.
She closed the fridge.
Gently.
She didn’t turn around imdiately.
Remained silent for a few seconds.
Like replaying sothing in her head.
Then, she finally looked back at .
---
Her gaze changed again.
It wasn’t just observation anymore.
Evaluation.
"...You cook?"
"Yes."
"...Over these past three days?"
"Yes."
She gave a small nod.
Once.
Brief.
Like making a ntal note.
"...What did she eat?"
"Porridge."
"...Just that?"
"At first."
I paused for a mont.
Processing the sequence.
"Then normal als."
She didn’t respond imdiately.
Her eyes shifted slightly to the side.
Processing the answer.
"...How many tis a day?"
"Three."
"...Fluids?"
"Enough."
She nodded again.
Slower this ti.
Deeper.
But her eyebrows didn’t relax.
There was still a slight tension there.
She looked toward the futon again.
Yuna was still asleep.
Position unchanged.
Blanket neat.
Not tangled.
She observed that for a few seconds.
Longer than before.
---
"...Did you adjust the room temperature?"
"Yes."
"...Cold compresses?"
"Yes."
"...dicine?"
"Yes."
Short answers.
Consistent.
No hesitation.
No doubt.
She fell silent.
For a while.
Her hand gripped her bag slightly tighter.
Not out of nervousness.
More like... holding sothing back.
"...Did you know the correct dosage?"
"Yes."
"...Based on?"
"The label."
Silence.
She looked at again.
Longer.
Deeper.
Like trying to find a flaw.
A discrepancy.
Sothing that didn’t add up.
But nothing surfaced.
All the answers were correct.
All the actions were appropriate.
Too appropriate.
She shifted her gaze.
Toward the floor near .
Stopped.
---
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
Focused.
There—
No futon.
No sleeping mat.
Just bare floor.
A slight crease from a folded jacket.
And the imprint of my earlier sitting position.
She looked at it for a few seconds.
Longer than anything else.
Then slowly raised her gaze to again.
Her face remained neutral.
But this ti—
Not entirely.
Sothing slipped through.
Just a little.
---
"...Did you sleep there?"
A direct question.
Sharper than before.
I looked toward that spot on the floor for a mont.
There was nothing to hide.
"Yes."
She didn’t speak right away.
Her lips parted slightly.
Then closed again.
Suppressing a reaction.
Professional.
"...For three days?"
"Yes."
Silence.
Longer than before.
She took a breath.
Deeper this ti.
Not entirely stable.
"...Why?"
I thought for a second.
Looking for the simplest answer.
"It’s closer."
She didn’t move.
Her eyes remained on .
Trying to process that.
"If she wakes up, I’m right there."
I gestured slightly toward the futon.
A small movent.
Enough to explain.
She followed the direction with her eyes.
Looked at Yuna again.
Then back to .
No words for a few seconds.
"...Did you not feel the need to sleep?"
"No."
"...Eat?"
"I did."
"...When was the last ti?"
I paused.
Thinking.
Couldn’t rember exactly.
---
"I don’t know."
She finally reacted.
Very slight.
Her eyebrows went up.
And down again.
Fast.
But this ti, it wasn’t completely concealed.
A wider crack.
She averted her gaze.
Slightly to the side.
As if needing a second of distance.
To reconstruct everything.
Healthy child.
Controlled environnt.
Proper care.
Guardian—
Outside normal paraters.
"...I understand."
She said it again.
But this ti it was clearly different.
The sa tone.
The aning was not.
She didn’t understand yet.
And she was understanding less and less.
---
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