Shinjirou trusts Jade, he realizes. These pills could be drugs of whatever kind, but he sits up, pops them in between his lips and pours the warm water into his mouth to wash them down. Blinking, he stretches his worn out limbs. Hopefully they'll knock him out fast. He knows the sharp intake of breath isn't a good sign, and the thrumming of his fingers on the mattress an even worse one.

"Thanks," he repeats, more a drawl than a proper word. Sleep. Just sleep. He closes his eyes and waits for the pounding in his head to stop and for the cold energy to subside.