[This is like a scene from a drama, except the heroine is usually dying on a well-made hospital bed as the hero clutches her hand in tears swearing to never love anyone else.

He's not crying though. His eyes are more terrified than tender when he looks at her; of the fever and how she can't seem to do anything. When he opens his mouth, it's definitely not to profess eternal celibacy in honour of her memory.]

I'm really going to be okay! I might not look it but I'm tougher than your average guy!

--Wait, don't say anything back Makocchi! Aaah, why do I keep forgetting about not talking?

[...]

But... I can say it feels good to have you worry, right?

[What an idiot. Still, Makoto has a point. Because he will get sick. Oh well.]