A few days in, Dimitri's on the mend, or at least in a milder patch. Enough for his mind to start gnawing on itself again, without any way to distract it. He's kept up text conversations with some of the others shipside, but it's not enough to really occupy him. He has a small stack of books from the library, but asking Dedue even for that felt like an overreach.

Desperate for some fresh air, he pulls the comforter around his shoulders and shuffles out to the rose garden. The crisp chill of Autumn rattles against his fever, but he'll take it for the sake of open space and grass under his feet.

He shouldn't be surprised to find Ossie there; he considers heading back inside to avoid a scolding, but ... something itches at the back of his mind. Instead, he clears his throat. It takes an extra cough or two to rally his voice, a muted, tinny rasp. "Ossie? Can I t-talk to you about something?"