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He did a fantastic job of hiding the initial symptoms, as usual. But he was always good at hiding things.
The dread, the worthlessness, the utter exhaustion with everything. Nothing had an explanation, it couldn't be pinned on anyone. Not the team, not the Confidentiality Ministry, no one. But it was never in Satsuma's nature to blame anyone but himself. It would always spiral back into that whirlpool of self-loathing. Of not being good enough. Of not stepping in line and doing exactly what the family wanted of him. Of daring to be *something else*.
So he hid. He was good at that. He hid when he panicked, he hid when things went wrong, he hid when things flew out of his control. Always hiding behind an expression and build that could bellow authority better than Satsuma could ever do himself. No one ever saw it. No one dared to question it. No one could see behind that wall, so carefully crafted, so perfectly positioned.
Kudamon could.
He always could. He saw that wall being built. He knew what Satsuma was like before then. He figured out quickly what was causing him to lock himself in a dark room for hours at a time, where even the slightest vibration, the tiniest point of light would cause him unspeakable agony. But he'd never cry, never make any noise, he would hold everything back. At most he would tell, then demand Kudamon to leave him, that he "needed a moment". Kudamon would never listen. No matter what was said, or what was even implied, Satsuma would eventually just grunt in annoyance as he let the Digimon drape over his neck and shoulders, disgusted with himself that he had to burden his partner with soothing the pain and relaxing the grip of the vertigo. Again.
It's been a long, long time since it was that bad.
Kudamon was usually quite good at keeping it relegated to, at worst, something Satsuma needed water and aspirin for. He was never one to admit this himself, but this one managed to slip through Kudamon's carefully-crafted net.
"I'll come in anyway. You can't lock me out."
"Leave."
His tamer's response from behind the barrack door still attempted to force authority, despite sounding so quiet and pathetic. Kudamon's nose and eye twitched upward.
"You won't make me leave, Satsuma. Let me come in or I come in myself."
"I said leave."
Kudamon could never handle situations like this with kid gloves. Being a Royal Knight kept him from doing so. Perhaps being firm wasn't how one handled someone with what he heard was "chronically depressed", but it was the only way he'd ever learned, and it was the only way he knew how to help Satsuma.
True to his word, he jumped up and shorted the electronic lock keeping the door closed, before using his tail to pull the door handle and the rest of his body to only keep it open wide enough to slip inside. The click of the door closing again was so soft, but too loud for Kudamon's liking. Satsuma's form laying stomach-down on the room's bed, a pillow pulled firmly over his head despite none of the lights being on, made Kudamon think even his own walking paws were too loud.
Satsuma attempted to brush Kudamon off the bed when he noticed an extra weight on it. With no sight and little strength, the little Digimon could easily dodge.
"Go away."
"You can't function like this." Despite speaking as quietly as he could, Kudamon still winced as he saw Satsuma clutch the pillow tighter as he spoke.
There was silence, then a soft noise as Satsuma attempted to find his voice again. "This isn't your fight."
"It's been my fight since the beginning, you stubborn idiot. Now stay still."
Though Satsuma make a valiant attempt to swat Kudamon from off the back of his neck, or at least block access with the pillow, Kudamon proved he could be a lead weight when he wanted to be. The fact he couldn't see, or the fact his head spun so quickly he had to firmly swallow what remained of his breakfast, prevented Satsuma from making even a 12% effort. He'd lost again, failing to keep Kudamon out of his personal pit and burdening him with restoring his health. He could never convince himself his partner freely did this, and had no complaints or qualms. No one ever did anything without a sense of burden or impatience, right? Not even a Digimon, surely.
Kudamon noticed right away when Satsuma's tenseness began to relax. He'd made a long, annoyed sigh as his grip on the pillow gradually loosened; whatever Kudamon did with this "holy power", or whatever the hell it was, was lifting a heavy veil and settling into a comforting flow through his body...even if he couldn't ever bring himself to openly admit it.
"Do you need your aspirin?"
"No." An obvious lie.
"Can you drink water yet?"
"No. Stop asking." Another lie.
But Kudamon was fine with doing that, at least for now. Settling into a more comfortable position, he would just wait until Satsuma had the strength to get up again, and continue to deny that he needed Kudamon's help in the first place. The cycle would start again, and Kudamon would deal with it as he always had: firmly, but always with an underlying comfort.
One day, he'd be able to break through Satsuma's carefully-constructed wall and fix his problems. Until then, he just had to keep looking for weak points.