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As the migraine creeps in, so does the panic.
Desperately, Momose closes his eyes, trying to will the growing pressure away. It doesn't work, and when he opens his eyes again, the screen of his computer still seems to dance before him. It's too much—too much light, too much noise, too much.
No, he thinks.Not today. Not today, when he has that detailed report on the library advertisement to submit. He can't miss this deadline; it will be more than grounds enough to be fired.
He closes his eyes again, trying to fight down the spiraling sense of terror rising within him. He can't lose this job. He can't lose—
“Momose?” a voice asks. It sounds very far away, and it takes a moment for it to register as Shirosaki’s. Momose forces his eyes open, forces his mouth to curve into a smile.
“Yeah, boss?” he asks, willing his voice to be normal—not to reveal the pain or the panic or, worse, both.
Apparently he fails on at least one account, as he so often fails at everything, because Shirosaki frowns at him.
“You don’t look well,” his boss says, and then, inexplicably, he raises one hand to press the back of it against Momose’s forehead. “You don’t seem to have a fever.”
“I—no,” Momose mumbles. “It’s fine. I’ll have that report on your desk before the end of the day, boss.”
Shirosaki’s frown deepens. “I’m not worried about the report,” he says.
Momose blinks. Shirosaki's hand is still there against his forehead. He seems to realize it in the moment Momose does, because he drops his hand and flushes a little. Momose kind of wishes he hadn't noticed; the coolness had felt good against the throbbing in his head.
"Do you need to see a doctor?" Shirosaki asks. "I can take you."
Momose can feel his face go pale. He goes to shake his head, then immediately regrets it. "No!" he says frantically. "I'm fine, boss, really. The report—"
"The report can wait," Shirosaki says firmly. "You cannot."
Momose hesitates, but Shirosaki stands firm before him, as if shielding him from the rest of the office. As if shielding him from the light and the noise and…everything.
"Come on," Shirosaki says. He holds out one hand, and even if the rest of the room seems to waver around him, that hand doesn't. "Let's go."