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Nishihiro coughs, groaning when the action sends shooting pains through his aching chest, and fumbles for a tissue. It’s bad enough that he had to stay home from school today (not that he likes his lessons; he just likes going to school for baseball practise), but his parents are out of town, so he doesn’t have anyone to look after him.
Even though he wanted to stay in bed, Nishihiro dragged himself downstairs this morning and has spent the day sprawled on the couch, coughing as his fever rages, leaving him constantly feeling too hot or too cold.
He feels too sick to eat, but he keeps getting horribly thirsty. So, once again, he hauls his weak frame off of the couch and stumbles into the kitchen. His lungs feel heavy inside of him, and his head throbs, leaving him terrified he might faint. Thankfully, Nishihiro manages to refill his water bottle and make it back to the couch without collapsing, at which point he dives back under the blankets.
And that’s when the doorbell rings.
Nishihiro groans, longing for the person to go away, but he knows this might be important. Coughing, Nishihiro lurches to the front door and opens it, leaning against the wall for support.
“Oki?”
Oki, his boyfriend and teammate, stands in the doorway. He carries a paper bag in his hands, a concerned smile on his face.
“Sorry for appearing like this. I just… I needed to see how you’re doing. Can I come in?”
Nishihiro nods. “Long as… don’t mind… seeing me like this.”
“Of course I don’t mind.” Oki puts a stabilising hand on his arm. “Look, man, I came because… I want to take care of you. Please, let me help you.”
He stares at Oki, and manages a smile. “Thank you.”