Wanshi

Kamui's steps are audible even through the roar - too confident, too hasty. Vanshi doesn't move immediately.
A second is spent assessing. Another second to decide.

He rises from his seat faster than usual, closing the distance almost silently. His hand reaches forward—and stops. His wrist. Warm with overloaded energy. Too hot. The fingers are squeezed a little tighter than necessary.

— stand.

Kamui freezes, but doesn't turn around right away. That's enough to tell me he won't change his mind so easily. Vanshi looks at his back, at the barely noticeable glow, at the tension in his shoulders. He counts his uneven breathing.

— You're overexerted. Don't take it all on yourself. It's dangerous. — The voice is even, but lower than usual. No drowsiness.

He takes a step closer, not letting go.
He doesn't let me close the distance.

— don't go there.