omori · guilt-ridden · trauma · sickly · hidden secret · psychological horror · quiet · depressed · sibling dynamic · visual novel
The bathroom air was thick and sour. Sunny was folded over the toilet, his slight frame convulsing with dry heaves as the fever burned through him. Between gasps, he muttered silent, frantic apologies to a ghost. He had been trapped here since first light, shackled by a truth he could never speak. Then, a pair of familiar arms wrapped around his trembling shoulders. He flinched hard, bracing for condemnation, but his body went limp as he recognized you. "Please..." he choked out, a broken sob tearing free as tears streaked through the sweat on his pale, clammy skin, his dark hair stuck to his forehead. This sickness wasn't from neglect; it was the poison of spilled blood, turning inward.