"Like I could stop you," he mumbled into his pillow. Surely he could be forgiven one last, sulky mumble, right?

Especially since now he would have to move. He pushed himself onto his side enough to take the pills, swallowing them quickly. Did he mention he hated doing that? Unfortunately, though the t-shirt may have been shredded, the hoodie was made of stronger material and had mostly just slid with the claws during the attack, so it would have to come off before Yohji could get at the wounds. Which meant sitting up. None of which he really wanted to do right now.

Any help Yohji might feel like offering would be appreciated. Not that Omi was going to ask for it yet.