Hmm

Kururu seemed to have arranged a base under a chair in Saburo's room, with three laptops set up for simultaneous use. Somehow, this worked despite his number of hands, and he tapped away, keeping his back to the resting Pekoponian. Pirarah, perched atop the same chair, was more obviously attentive. Anxiety sparked in his red eyes, and the keyboard clacked in his ears like thrown stones, as the only sound in the room. He shifted, bending down to peer at the scientist, a request for quiet on his tongue.

“What are you doing?” came out instead. Kururu was hardly a threat, but Pirarah was still hesitant about asking something of him so directly; the yellow Keronian was difficult to be around as a general rule.

“Keeping track of things...” Kururu trailed off and spun around, his skin pinched against the top of his glasses in a bothered frown. Pirarah was forced to withdraw swiftly as Kururu hopped out into the open, snapping, “I might need your... assistance. so come on!” The hybrid followed wordlessly, sliding down from the chair and landing neatly.

Saburo thrashed wildly, the intensity of some nightmare spiking and throwing him over the edge of the bed. He meant the ground less pleasantly, he crashed in a mess of blankets and shot into a sitting position with a vague cry. Dizziness swirled up in his head at the motion, as if it was confetti in a snowglobe, obscuring his senses. His head dropped and his hands rose to meet it, his perception of reality might have been distorted, but memories of the nightmare that had placed him here were not. The two Keronians arrived at his side, though he failed to acknowledge them, opting to struggle to his feet instead, or at least struggle. However, that was made quite tricky by the fact that it felt like he had twine stuck to toothpicks in his limbs, as opposed to muscles attached to bones. Though he eventually made it, his success was not maintained for any length of time, and he stumbled trying to climb back onto the bed. He dropped backwards, but Pirarah had determined the task Kururu called him for without any difficulty, slamming the button on the watch and using his new height to catch Saburo. The human's head jerked around, his dark shock undisguised, though he did not try to move. He didn't want to, this appeared thoroughly real, and he wanted to keep it as long as possible, because he might never have it again.

Kururu walked the short distance to stand before his wave buddy, staring unflinchingly up until he caught the boy's gaze, and then he refused to relinquish it.

“Saburo, since I somehow don't think administering some form of brain surgery will fix this, you're just going to have to speak with us.” He offered this stern statement, covering up a degree of his own discomfort at the concept as he waited for an answer.