“Ah, Hattori-san! Very good. You definitely get bonus points for mentioning that you can’t cook. Your willingness to not kill me is very sweet and appreciated. I’m curious to see what you would do once the food arrived… or if I fell unconscious? Perhaps if I had fever dreams? It would be interesting to play out and find out. Such a scene might play out as thus:
—
Hakuba shuddered, half-closed eyes only barely making sense of what he saw through the haze. He thought that he’d heard Hattori Heiji’s voice, but he couldn’t be sure. Nothing made sense in his head, which throbbed with pain of that heated fever. Coherent thoughts slipped in snatches, just out of reach. All that he could see for sure was the fire and the hot ash in the fireplace. He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat, fingers curling in a white-knuckled grip against the couch. “Nnn…” he managed, voice hoarse. “No..”
—
"Ta da! All right. For your final score I will give you a 6/10. Mostly because you’re Hattori-san and I’m not entirely convinced that you would coddle me so much as demand that I just "get better” — but you’re welcome to prove me wrong.“