Vol 2 Chapter 4 (1/2)

CHAPTER 4

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“Ah—choo!”

He’d hardly gotten a wink of sleep last night and had woken up early this morning as well; unable to go back to sleep and with nothing else to do, he’d made his way into the office.

Wanting to get a bit of work done before everyone else arrived, he made his arrangements and sat down before his computer—but his concentration was shot today, due in large part to the headache that had been attacking him intermittently since around dawn. He also felt a bit feverish, and the stomachache was still with him as well.

He knew fully well that these were all symptoms of a cold—he’d probably ruined his health when he’d gotten soaked in the downpour from the previous evening. Everything had been just fine from the run from Kiris.h.i.+ma’s apartment to the station and from there all the way to his own station; at that point, the storm hadn’t quite reached where he was yet. The clouds had looked menacing, to be sure, but deeming it not enough to merit buying an umbrella, he’d started for his apartment.

He’d realized the decision had been a mistake about when he’d made half the journey home; the rain had suddenly escalated into heavy drops and then in a flash changed to a downpour of upturned-bucket proportions. With horrible timing, he’d already pa.s.sed up the last convenience store. No other stores were still open, and even if he’d opted to wait out the storm, there was no telling when it would stop. Having no other choice, he’d charged home while soaking wet, looking like a drowned rat by the time he reached his building.

This was probably because of how chilled he’d let himself get back then. He’d hopped right into a warm shower, but in hindsight he probably should’ve opted for a soak in a tub.

Just in case, he’d taken some non-drowsy cold medicine earlier, but at this point he couldn’t tell if it was working or not.

“…Maybe I’ll have some coffee.” He knew it wasn’t good to try and ward this cold off using caffeine, but he couldn’t help himself. Coffee probably wasn’t the best idea with his stomach in the painful state it was already, but he needed something to flip that switch within him and get him started. Though while he preferred his coffee black, he at least allowed a bit of milk to cut it this morning.

When he returned to his desk with the lidded paper cup in his hand, Henmi had just arrived at the office. “Good morning, Yokozawa-san!”

“Yeah, mornin’.”

He knew Henmi had been out drinking with co-workers the previous evening, but he didn’t show an ounce of fatigue, and his complexion was decent. Begrudging Henmi’s youth and vitality, he settled the coffee cup on his desk.

“That was quite the storm last night, huh! I left home that morning with my clothes still out drying on the line—it was horrible! If I’d known it would start raining then, I would’ve headed straight home and not gone out drinking.”

“Yeah…that’s nice…” Yokozawa let the ba.n.a.l chatter flow in one ear and out the other, and at his half-hearted reply, he was swiftly reminded of the gravity of the damage done.

“It’s not ‘nice’ at all! Now I have to wash my clothes all over again!”

Yokozawa couldn’t have honestly cared less about Henmi’s clothes, seeing as he himself had suffered bodily damage. That at least was a h.e.l.l of a lot better than ruining your health. And while it had been his own fault for underestimating the weather and not buying an umbrella on his way home, he still couldn’t bring himself to sympathize all that much with Henmi’s plight.

“Wait—you do laundry on weekdays? You’re actually pretty hard-working huh…”

“I actually quite like cleaning and laundry. It’s kind of…a stress-relief for me, I guess? Do you not do much housework, Yokozawa-san?”

“Only when I have to. Though I guess I don’t mind cooking.”

“Oh right—don’t you cook with Hiyori-chan over at Kiris.h.i.+ma-san’s place sometimes? Invite me over sometime!”

“Yeah, sure. One of these days.”

“EH?”

At this vague, random reply, Yokozawa received in return an expression that looked as if Henmi had just seen a ghost. The unexpectedly shocked reaction had Yokozawa in turn hesitantly replying, “Wh…what’s with that expression?”

“Well—usually you’re all ‘I don’t have any food fit to give you!’ or something! What’s with you today? Don’t tell me you have a fever…?!”

“Of course I don’t—I just responded randomly is all.” The unexpected display of concern led his true feelings to slip out a hair.

“Hey—isn’t that a little mean?”

“I’m not telling you you can’t have any, am I? Just, if there’s a chance, maybe.”

“I’m holding you to that!”

“Yeah yeah; hey, isn’t the air conditioning a little strong today?” A s.h.i.+ver rippled down his spine at the cool air blasting over him. The thermostat was usually set rather high to conserve energy and he typically found himself wis.h.i.+ng it were cooler, but today it was actually a little cold.

“You think? It feels as hot as ever to me; are you sure you aren’t looking a bit rough?”

“‘S your imagination.” He’d tried to force a nonchalant expression, not wanting Henmi worrying too much over him, but Henmi saw right through him. While surprised at how sharp Henmi could be in the strangest of respects, he tried not to let it show. He couldn’t have his subordinates fussing over him.

“No—something is definitely off with you today! You don’t have your usual…intensity.”

“What the h.e.l.l’s that supposed to mean? Fine, sure—maybe I’ve got a little heatstroke; I’m not as young as you, after all.”

“You’re only three years my elder!”

“And those three years mean a h.e.l.l of a lot; I’ll make sure to eat something energy-packed for lunch. But forget about me—how’s that proposal from the other day coming?” He changed the subject with a vague smile; much more of this cross-examination and he’d start to show cracks.

“Oh—it’ll take a bit longer. I haven’t been able to get all the data compiled yet…”

“Well—just show me everything you’ve got now.”

“All right then—I’ll send you an e-mail.” Henmi flitted back off to his own desk and started up his computer. Relieved that he seemed to have thrown the guy off his trail for now, Yokozawa flipped over to work-mode in his own head.

“Please stop here,” he directed the taxi driver and pulled out his wallet. After paying the fare, he started for his apartment on unsteady feet. Without the will to even bother checking his mailbox, he piled into the elevator and somehow managed to make it all the way to his own room, where his stamina gave out on him at the entrance and he was forced to lean against the wall for a few moments.

He’d pushed himself too hard today, and the virus had finally won out over him. Maybe the way his stomach had been paining him since last Friday’s drinking excursion had been the first sign that his body was weak. This recent heatwave had sapped his strength, leaving him defenseless.

“s.h.i.+t, I’m dizzy…”

He’d managed to hold out while he was at the office, but the moment he’d stepped outside, the urge to vomit had a.s.saulted him. If he’d let himself collapse right then and there, though, there was no telling what sorts of rumors would be flying around the next day, so he’d slapped on a nonchalant expression with sheer strength of will until he could catch a taxi near the train station.

Clinging to the wall, he entered his apartment and headed for the kitchen. He needed to eat something before he tried to take any medicine; he had no appet.i.te, but he downed a gelatin pack and a gelatin herbal capsule he’d bought earlier that afternoon.

He didn’t even have enough strength to give his sweat-soaked body a rinse in the shower, and he sluggishly changed into his pajamas and climbed into the bed.

“This never used to happen before…” he muttered, pulling a thermometer from the drawer of his bedside table and taking his temperature. He’d never had to worry about ruining his health just by overdoing things a bit when he was a child.

At the shrill beeping, he pulled the device from his armpit and checked the reading—and when he saw the value was well past 38 degrees, he felt his fever rise even more. He felt a pang of regret that he probably should’ve gone straight to the hospital, but it was too late for that now. If he wasn’t on the road to recovery after a good night’s rest, he could always call a taxi.

He didn’t want to admit it, but he felt like his stamina had taken a dive of late. His hangovers seemed to last longer than they had before as well, so maybe he was just reaching an age where he needed to start thinking about the pace of his life—before it was too late.

He still had a few good years left on him, to be sure, but he couldn’t overexert himself like he could in his teens.

“…s.h.i.+t, I didn’t get to talk to him today either…”

He’d honestly meant to talk to Kiris.h.i.+ma today, but with his condition being so bad, it hadn’t been possible. He once again cursed his horrible timing.

They had neither texted nor spoken to one another for four days now—and it figured that now of all times there were no meetings that forced them together at least.

But…Yokozawa honestly wasn’t confident he could stand before Kiris.h.i.+ma without all of his agitation and anxiety showing clearly on his face—so maybe this was actually all for the best.

“I have…to go see him tomorrow…”

He didn’t want this awkward atmosphere between them to continue. It was ruining his spirit—and more than that, he missed the guy. Maybe being sick was making him all the more desperate for human companions.h.i.+p, but every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was Kiris.h.i.+ma’s face.

The medicine seemed to be kicking in, and he could feel his consciousness slipping away. He recalled distantly that he’d forgotten to turn the lights off in the living room, but he didn’t have the energy left to get up anymore.

He could sense someone was nearby. Thinking for a moment that he needed to feed Sorata, he remembered distantly that the cat was at Kiris.h.i.+ma’s place right now, his fuzzy mind not working well.

They liked to say that sickness turned you timid, but Yokozawa felt that it was pretty appropriate to describe how he felt right now. Even if he could hardly rely on Sorata, the mere presence or absence of a cat had distinctly different effects on his level of anxiety.

But if that wasn’t Sorata he was sensing, then who…?

Kiris.h.i.+ma’s face immediately floated into his mind’s eye, but that was hardly likely. His parents hardly ever visited, though…and there was only one friend who had a key to his apartment.

Thinking that perhaps it was him, he called out, “…Masamune?”

“Sorry, I’m not Takano.”

“Huh…?” He jolted at the unexpected voice that drifted in from the living room, and after a few moments, his consciousness returned fully.

“How’re you feeling? It’s gotta be pretty bad to put you in bed like this…”

“Kiris.h.i.+ma-san…?”

“Bingo,” he returned with a bitter smile and laid something cool across Yokozawa’s forehead—probably an antifebrile cooling sheet. The chilled sensation against his feverish, flushed body was amazing.

“What’re you doing here…?” He panicked for a moment that perhaps this was just a hallucination induced by his high fever and took several long blinks.

At this reaction, Kiris.h.i.+ma forced a sigh. “When I went down to the sales floor, I found out you’d left early—which is pretty rare—and Henmi mentioned you’d looked kind of pale, so I got worried and came to check on you. You had the lights on, but you wouldn’t answer the door no matter how many times I rang, so I freaked out and thought maybe you’d keeled over.”

“I was sleeping; not like I could help it.” He hadn’t heard the doorbell at all. The cold medicine he’d taken before climbing into bed had done its job and he’d slept like the dead.

“Well that’s why I came in on my own. Aren’t you glad you gave me that spare key now?”

“You took that without my permission, a.s.shole…” When he fired back his usual abusive retort, Kiris.h.i.+ma’s smile turned a bit more enjoyable. It felt like it’d been ages since he’d seen that smile, and he felt the emotions that had been on tenterhooks within him finally relax. He didn’t let it show in his face, but it struck him strongly in the chest.

“If you weren’t feeling well, you should’ve called me—what’s the harm in relying on me at times like this? Though—I guess I can understand why you might’ve not wanted to… But what if something had happened?”

“…Sorry…” He’d been a bit over-confident thinking he’d get better if he just took some medicine and slept it off, but there’d also been a part of him that hadn’t been entirely sure this was something he should be selfish with.

“You’re supposed to be selfish with others when you’re sick, you know. You thirsty? I bought some sports drink.”

“I’ll have some.” He pushed himself up into a seated position and brought the proffered bottle to his lips. Thirstier than he’d even expected, he downed the whole bottle at once.

“Are you hungry?”

“No appet.i.te…” He felt like if he tried to eat anything solid, the urge to vomit, which had finally eased, would come back.

“Well if you’re going to take some medicine, you’ll have to put something in your stomach. Oh yeah—I brought some apples; want me to cut up a few for you? I always do it for Hiyo when she’s got a fever.”

“I thought you couldn’t peel apples?”

“What’re you talking about? You can cut an apple just fine without peeling it. Don’t worry—I’ll wash it well.”

“…I’ll pa.s.s. I already took some medicine before I went to sleep.”

“Then you should go back to sleep. Oh—but change into something else before you do. You’ll get chilled with those sweat-soaked clothes. Where do you keep your sleep clothes?”

Without a doubt, this had to be nothing more than a pleasant dream. Kiris.h.i.+ma here, in his house, nursing him at his bedside? It was a laughable situation. Maybe he was just weak, being tossed about by his fever.

“…In the middle of the closet drawer.” He typically would’ve protested that he could do it himself, but when he considered that this was just a dream, he obediently let himself be a bit selfish.

He changed into the room wear Kiris.h.i.+ma pulled out for him and climbed back into bed, where Kiris.h.i.+ma settled at his bedside and pulled the thermometer from his bedside table.

“Check your temperature.”

“‘Kay…” He tucked the thermometer under his arm and settled his head back against his pillow. Maybe because Kiris.h.i.+ma was sitting next to him, it seemed to take longer than usual for the measurement. Feverish and addled though he might have been, he couldn’t deny how awkward the situation felt. It would be difficult to even feign sleep with as worked-up as he felt right now.

He stared at the long line of Kiris.h.i.+ma’s back; given that he was facing the door right now, Yokozawa couldn’t tell what his expression looked like.

“I’m sorry…for the other day.”

Yokozawa started at having conversation suddenly directed at himself and let out an idiotic response. “Huh?”

“You know full well what I’m talking about; Friday evening, I mean.”

“……….” Yokozawa clammed up, completely at a loss as to how to respond to Kiris.h.i.+ma when he turned back his way. The silence continued for a few long moments, ultimately broken by the beeping of the thermometer.

“Let me see… 37.5, huh. Still a little high.”

“Better than before, at least.”

“The fatigue’s been building up in you, hasn’t it? It’s been sweltering lately, and you love overexerting yourself. Don’t you get tired making the rounds?”

“Not really; it’s part of my job.” In fact, from Yokozawa’s point of view, it was worse being stuck behind a desk all day. But the difference in temperature between inside and outside seemed to have caused more damage than he’d been aware of.

“I guess; but it just means you’ve gotta take better care of yourself. Brace yourself, rest up, and get back your strength.”

Kiris.h.i.+ma reached forward and ruffled his hair, and Yokozawa weakly slapped his hand away. “…Oi, I said cut that out.” Truthfully, he didn’t dislike it at all; it was only that he was too embarra.s.sed to admit how amazingly good it felt, the sensation of those fingers.

“With that kind of energy to you, I’m sure that fever will go down soon.” Yokozawa turned his face away to escape the gentle gaze Kiris.h.i.+ma directed toward him. The slight quickening of his pulse was due, undoubtedly, to his fever.

He ordered his heart to calm down, when Kiris.h.i.+ma started talking again. “About that night… I just wound up in front of your apartment without even realizing it. I wasn’t drunk, you know. Just—when I couldn’t get through to your phone, I panicked and kind of…”

“Panicked?”

“Anyways—I didn’t mean to blame you for anything. Though I guess I can see how it would’ve been difficult for you to just tell me to trust you…” Seeming to realize that he was coming off as trying to excuse what he’d done, Kiris.h.i.+ma scratched his head awkwardly—but that wasn’t what Yokozawa was concerned with at the moment.

“So you’re…not mad at me?”

“Why would you think I was mad at you?” His expression was confused.

“I just…thought maybe you were p.i.s.sed that I didn’t listen to your warning… Was I wrong?”

Because he hadn’t heeded Kiris.h.i.+ma’s warning, the very thing he’d been warning against had happened—he’d a.s.sumed the guy had been disgusted over it. But at Yokozawa’s hesitant confession, Kiris.h.i.+ma simply chuckled bitterly.

“You idiot. I was just…sulking.”

“Huh?”

“Like I said—I was jealous of that chick and irritated for it. I spouted all that self-important s.h.i.+t, and look where it got me.”

Kiris.h.i.+ma quickly turned away, abashed, and Yokozawa found himself unable to keep from laughing at the utterly childish gesture. “Geez, are you a kid? Though huh, so even you sulk sometimes…”

“Don’t laugh.” But this just made the laughs come all the more.

After letting his shoulders shake for a bit, Yokozawa finally let loose, face serious, what he’d been meaning to confess for some time now. “There’s seriously nothing between me and that girl. When she asked me if I had a lover—I told her that I did. She never even confessed to me.”

In the low light of the room, he could clearly see how shocked Kiris.h.i.+ma was. “…When?”

“Last Friday. Just before you called me.” It was the entire reason he’d been so shaken when he’d gotten the call at just that moment. But the clear displeasure in Kiris.h.i.+ma’s voice had made him feel as if he were being doubted, so he’d snapped.

If he’d tried to call back after he and Matsumoto had parted ways, things likely wouldn’t have gotten this bad. Looking back now, he knew he’d behaved quite childishly.

“So in other words…I was a complete idiot? Ugh, what the h.e.l.l! Dammit! Tell me these kinds of things sooner!” Kiris.h.i.+ma cursed as he mussed his own hair. He was probably regretting what he’d said back then right about now.

They’d felt the whole thing had been a serious problem between them, but in hindsight, it was really little more than a lovers’ tiff. Once all was settled, it was something they could actually laugh about.

“Still…to think that you actually get jealous…”

“Of course I do—we’re talking about the guy I love here. I even got all pumped up to go into battle against her at the autograph event and everything—but you didn’t even notice.”

“Pumped up…?”

So that had been why he’d seemed particularly decked out that day. Maybe the timing of Hiyori barging in had also been his doing…

As Yokozawa sat there, shocked at how unexpectedly narrow-minded Kiris.h.i.+ma had been, Kiris.h.i.+ma apologized shamefully, “I’m…really sorry for acting so childish.”

“Hmph, so you recognized it, did you?”

“I guess. You might not have realized it—but I’m a h.e.l.l of a lot more possessive and p.r.o.ne to jealousy than you.”

“I’m beginning to get that impression.” He just happened to be particularly good at keeping up appearances—that was what Kiris.h.i.+ma had told him once before. Which meant in this case, he’d been so agitated by the situation that he hadn’t been able to pretend.

“Still…you actually told her…”

“If she’d just brought it up in pa.s.sing that would’ve been one thing—but when she asked me outright, I didn’t exactly have any choice b.u.t.to respond. And I never once mentioned your name.”

“And…was that all you told her?”

“…That was it.”

“What was that pause?”

“Nothing.”

He hadn’t mentioned everything he’d said only because it was too d.a.m.n embarra.s.sing.

…Someone I greatly respect.

If Kiris.h.i.+ma found out Yokozawa had said something like that, there was no doubt he would’ve teased Yokozawa about it mercilessly. Even for a dream, he couldn’t bring himself to be that open.

Perhaps worried when Yokozawa grew unnaturally silent, Kiris.h.i.+ma hesitantly questioned, “So…completely disenchanted with me now?”

“Nah… I won’t say it wasn’t unexpected, but…”

Kiris.h.i.+ma’s expression turned suspicious when Yokozawa trailed off. “What’s that ‘but’ for?”

After a moment’s mental debate, Yokozawa simply spoke the words within his mind as they came. “Was just thinking that we really…kind of suit each other.” He was only able to laugh this easily because this was a dream.

Kiris.h.i.+ma’s expression showed how surprised he’d been by the moment, but after a momentary choked up gleam to his eye, he chuckled, “I guess we do at that…”

He hesitantly squeezed the fingers casually looped around his own, and maybe it was just because of his fever, but Kiris.h.i.+ma’s hands were cool and felt wonderful against him.

As if rising to the water’s surface from the seabed to which he’d sunk, Yokozawa slowly roused to consciousness, and as he woke, he found himself staring dazedly up at the ceiling.

It’d been a while since he’d slept so well. He usually found himself forcibly woken from a mud-like sleep, but today he awoke feeling remarkably refreshed.

“…I’m starving,” he muttered to himself without realizing it and slowly eased himself upright. Did he even have anything in the kitchen to eat?

“I’ll bet you are. Morning; how are you feeling?”

“Can’t complain…wait, what? Why’re you here?!” The guy had poked his head into Yokozawa’s room as if it were his own, startling Yokozawa.

“What, lost your memories again? And after I nursed you through the night—ungrateful a.s.s.”

“Eh…?” Yokozawa’s thought processes screeched to a halt at the comment invoking a sense of deja vu. The first time, he’d paled in shock—but this time, his face simply heated up with a flush.

All those things he’d said and done because he’d thought it was a dream—that had all been real. Even setting aside the whole ‘nursing back to health’ part, he’d said so many unbearably embarra.s.sing things.

Kiris.h.i.+ma chuckled at the obviously agitated Yokozawa. “Wait—don’t tell me you thought it was all a dream or something, right?”

“…!” He bit back a response, and Kiris.h.i.+ma’s shoulders shook all the harder.

“Bullseye, huh? I thought you were being rather honest back there… So that‘s what it was, huh? Well, I’ve got it all filed away in my long-term memory so I guess I don’t mind either way.”

“Forget it! Right. Now.”

“No~t a chance, it’s too good to waste.”

At Kiris.h.i.+ma’s response, Yokozawa ma.s.saged his forehead. The pain had lessened, but now new stress was plaguing him.

Still…when he thought about it, it was a little late to worry about Kiris.h.i.+ma seeing him in an embarra.s.sing state. Maybe being overly sensitive to it just gave your opponent more opportunities. In other words, if he could turn the tables on the guy—he wouldn’t have to be teased as much as he was.

Granted, he didn’t see himself being that bold any time soon, but at least pretending it was the first step.

“…Do whatever you want.” He rose from the bed and slipped past Kiris.h.i.+ma, headed for the kitchen, where he filled a gla.s.s with water and downed it in one gulp.

“Now that‘s an unexpected response. You usually put up more of a fight than that.”

“Like I can put up with dealing with you on every little matter. And forget that—have you seriously been here the whole time?” He didn’t even have a couch that the guy could’ve napped on. While he did have an extra futon for guests, it was currently sitting way in the back of his closet, so the only real place anyone could’ve rested was the bed. Which meant Kiris.h.i.+ma likely hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d professed to nursing Yokozawa through the whole night.

“Til around sunrise. I checked on you and then dropped back by my place for a few. Oh—I made sure to feed Sorata.”

“Sorry for the trouble—really,” he apologized anew.

“Who said it was any trouble?”

“…Thank you.”

When Yokozawa changed his phrasing, Kiris.h.i.+ma turned on him a smile that seemed to say good boy. “You’re welcome.” He often wondered if he wasn’t on the same level as Hiyori in Kiris.h.i.+ma’s eyes at times like this. h.e.l.l, maybe he was even lower on the totem pole.

“What time is it now?”

“Just past 2 PM.”

“Ah dammit we’re totally late!” He knew it wouldn’t do any good to panic, but he had to notify the office, and he picked up the handset on the desk in his bedroom. Would his boss even believe him if he told him he had been laid up in bed with a cold? When Yokozawa had never taken a single sick day since joining the company?

He’d more or less completely recovered now, but it would probably be best to just take the day off and rest rather than head in to work now. At least he didn’t have any appointments today with clients.

“Who’re you calling? Take-out?” Kiris.h.i.+ma questioned curiously, staring at Yokozawa with the phone in his hand trying to think of what to tell his boss.

“Are you an idiot? I’m calling the office of course! And—hey, don’tyou have to be in, too?” he snapped back, voicing the concern that suddenly came to mind. Kiris.h.i.+ma being here meant he was skipping out on work as well. They both had a ton of paid vacation days saved up, but neither of them had light enough workloads to use them so freely.

“I took the day off as well. They can handle things without me for a single day. And I made sure to call in sick for you while I was at it, so don’t worry.”

“Huh? Why the h.e.l.l were you telling them that I was sick?”

“If I hadn’t, it would’ve been an unauthorized absence, wouldn’t it? When I told your boss, he said, ‘So I guess even demons get sick now and then’.”

“……….” Yokozawa could only release a sigh at the nonchalantly returned response. It looked like there was no escaping becoming the topic of conversation around the office. There would be no choice but to regroup and turn the tables.

“Well, now that that’s all said and done—go take a bath. I’ll take care of the cooking.”

“You‘ll take care of the cooking?” He could hardly let that go unremarked, and raised his voice. What the h.e.l.l was Kiris.h.i.+ma—who was an utter failure in the kitchen—intending to make? Was it even a good idea to let the guy in the kitchen?

At Yokozawa’s obvious anxiety, Kiris.h.i.+ma boasted, “Don’t make fun of me; I’m a parent, you know. I can make something simple like rice porridge.”

“You sure I can trust you…?”

“Just leave it to me.” The amount of confidence the guy had was, in itself, a little frightening. However, despite being unable to shake off the worry, he couldn’t fight his desire to wash off his sweat-soaked body.

“Well, don’t overdo it.”

“Yeah yeah—get going.” And thus with painful reluctance, Yokozawa headed for the bathroom.