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In the time he's spent lying here, he's managed to take notice of everyone's sleeping habits.
Aniki's, he can tell without even looking at him. It's not like he needs to, anyway, given that he's already stuck to him like glue. He's already warm enough, kind of like a hot water bottle, regardless of the weather, but it's like he's trying to absorb even more warmth from him or something; nothing's changed since they were young in that aspect, at least.
Sena-senpai and Narukami-senpai, he's surprised don't actually sleep with facemasks on (though, since he has all the time in the world to think about it, he realizes that something like that would probably be super messy). Despite all that, they both look pretty as ever— he did see them before he himself had finally managed to doze off. Beauty sleep, probably.
He'd awoken once in the middle of the night to one of Tsukinaga-senpai's bouts of inspiration; hair untied and disheveled, markers somehow all fitting in one bony hand... it was an experience, to say the least. To top that off, Ritsu-senpai – the splitting image of a bat – had most definitely not been asleep at that time, and had most definitely looked Yuuta in the eye with intimidating scarlet eyes. Of course, the two are thankfully asleep now, which makes his attention turn to the last person in the room.
...Wait, where is he?
He'd expected Tsukasa-kun to be the type to fall asleep early and wake up early, but— light has only just started to peek in through the windows. He has absolutely no idea why Tsukasa could be the only person out of bed. In fact, he has no idea why he's awake either. Honestly, he should be the last one to be up in the first place; he goes to sleep early one night, because every scenario of this training camp going horribly wrong has to pile up on him now of all times (the one he remembers most involving Tsukasa-kun never speaking to him again), and suddenly he's up early with a poor amount of rest, contemplating his entire life's choices.
And to top that off, a wave of longing washes over him.
Slowly, so he doesn't trip over any stray limbs or anything of the sort, he wiggles out of his futon, tiptoeing out of the room they're all sharing after nudging his pillow a little closer to Aniki as a Yuuta-kun substitute. It's actually pretty chilly, now that he's not underneath many, many layers, which reinforces the question of What On Earth Is Suou Tsukasa Doing At This Time?
The first room he checks, he finds empty. The bathroom, countertop with two whole skincare regimes arranged in orderly fashions, is also empty; in fact, there's no luck in any of the rooms after, so he's beginning to fear that a ghost could have whisked him away to the spirit world or something. If he was, then he'd have to to find a way to get him back! Even if it would lead to him having to take his place there, it would be fine by him, he thinks.
Besides, it's not like Tsukasa-kun would be outside in this weather anyway, so he really needs to form a plan to get him back before it's too—
"One, two, three!"
Somehow, he's already standing in front of an opened door.
(Forget about the spirit world; he's right here.)
He almost knocks over a strangely full bottle upon taking a step outside, terrible placement, really, but Tsukasa-kun hasn't noticed a thing. In fact, his focus remains completely on some dance move he continues to repeat. It's one he recognizes as part of their performance, and if he remembers correctly from observing knights out of curiosity, Tsukasa-kun seemed to be falling a little behind; it seems, with a strained but never-fading smile, he's trying to catch up.
And it hits Yuuta, that he has those worries too—
—like how Tsukasa-kun hits the ground right after tripping over his own feet.
Without thinking, he's already by his side, looking him up and down in case something bad's happened to him; no, Tsukasa-kun did not break his entire foot, but from how he stays frozen in place with the realization that someone else is there, his pride might have taken a blow. It's nothing he should worry about, though. Even with tousled hair and flushed cheeks and a scraped knee, he looks alright. Better than he does, because he at least doesn't have bags under his eyes and doesn't sport a ponytail that's lost its effectiveness overnight.
(Better than he ever will.)
(He's always been this pretty, he realizes, when he finally gets to look him in the eye.)
He'd come up with about ten ways to stop Tsukasa-kun's oncoming crisis, but he's too taken aback to say any of them, struggling to get his words out while Tsukasa-kun struggles to explain himself, until, finally—
"—Would it be okay if we practiced together?!"
(He at least remembers to hold his hand out.)