It's not hard to get Ken to eat, provided he's at least semi-conscious; it never is. And Chikusa doesn't appear to need to worry about Ken choking; Ken also doesn't need much excuse to bite things, and once the banana's in his mouth he chews automatically.
His eyes crack halfway open, looking up at Chikusa; they're glazed and unfocused, but they do seem to be aware of him. They flicker as Chikusa's hands work, loosely tracking his movements.
"Muk'ro...?" The tone he mumbles the word in - minus the honorific; it's the way they'd said it back in Italy - suggests that he's asking something about Mukuro, not mis-identifying Chikusa. (Not surprising; neither of them would ever expect this kind of care directly from Mukuro's hands, no matter how out of it they were.) Knowing Ken, he's almost certainly asking where Mukuro is; he fusses about that enough even when they're both perfectly healthy.
no subject
His eyes crack halfway open, looking up at Chikusa; they're glazed and unfocused, but they do seem to be aware of him. They flicker as Chikusa's hands work, loosely tracking his movements.
"Muk'ro...?" The tone he mumbles the word in - minus the honorific; it's the way they'd said it back in Italy - suggests that he's asking something about Mukuro, not mis-identifying Chikusa. (Not surprising; neither of them would ever expect this kind of care directly from Mukuro's hands, no matter how out of it they were.) Knowing Ken, he's almost certainly asking where Mukuro is; he fusses about that enough even when they're both perfectly healthy.