Chapter Text
Amane rolled over, rubbing his fist against his eye as he tried to figure out what had woken him. The darkness in his and Tsukasa’s bedroom was still heavy, no moonlight peeping through the curtains for that to have pulled him from sleep. And then came the sound, something low and mournful from across the room, and Amane was out of bed like a shot.
Tsukasa had kicked all his blankets off, letting them tumble to the floor in a heap of purple fabric, one dinosaur sock lost somewhere in the folds. He was curled on his side, arms folded around his belly and knees tucked nearly to his chest. Tsukasa never slept like that; he liked to sprawl out and take up as much room as possible, and shove his feet in Amane’s face given the chance. But this, this meant something was wrong.
Amane brushed the damp hair away from Tsukasa’s forehead, sinking his teeth into his lip at the heat that burned against his palm. He set his knee to the edge of the bed to get closer, cupping the back of Tsukasa’s neck which was just as warm and damp. He eased off the bed and nearly sprinted to the bathroom, snatching up a washcloth to run under cold water before he hurried back to Tsukasa’s side.
His brother hadn’t moved except to curl tighter into a ball, whimpers now echoing in their otherwise quiet bedroom. Amane crawled onto the bed slowly, trying not to disturb his brother as he pushed Tsukasa’s hair back and set the cold cloth against his hot skin. He watched as Tsukasa’s eyelids fluttered before opening, hazy amber peeking through and casting about before they landed on him.
“...’Mane...?”
Amane watched as Tsukasa’s face contorted, and Amane dove off the bed for the little trash can beside their desk without hesitation. He apologized as he fisted his hand in the back of Tsukasa’s nightshirt and dragged him to the edge of the bed over the trash just as his little brother turned and heaved. Amane tipped his head back, holding his breath as bile rose in his throat. He hated when they both got sick enough to puke because it usually meant they’d both end up over the toilet bowl.
Tsukasa had flopped against the mattress, crying softly now, and Amane leaned down to grab the washcloth and set it on the back of his neck. He ran his hand down Tsu’s back, speaking softly as his brother got sick again and again. Heat burned through Tsukasa’s clothes into Amane’s skin, and once he seemed to calm for a minute, Amane leaned closer.
“Can you make it to the bathroom? I’ll help you.”
He waited until Tsukasa nodded and gently helped his brother to sit up. It was slow going; every movement made Tsukasa whimper, and by the time Amane got both of them to their feet, Tsu had thrown up twice more. They shuffled along slowly, pausing every time Tsukasa made a sound just in case but they made it to the bathroom without incident. He set Tsukasa on the bathmat and dumped the mess of the trashcan into the toilet bowl, washing it out quickly before turning to his little brother.
Tsukasa had turned and pressed his cheek to the side of the tub, folded up into a small ball that made Amane’s heart hurt. He didn’t like it when Tsukasa was sick, didn’t like it when his baby brother wasn’t laughing and running around like a wild thing. The only time Tsukasa was supposed to be quiet was when they were laying on the little hill to go stargazing, or when they were both sprawled out on their bedroom floor, the radio humming quietly as they took turns running their hands through each other’s hair in the warm sunset light.
Amane sprinted back to their bedroom, slipping and colliding with the doorframe in his haste. He ignored the pain radiating in his shoulder as he grabbed clean clothes for Tsukasa, fishing out the pair of star socks that were Amane’s own before he hurried back. Tsukasa was crying again, and Amane dumped everything on the floor before he folded down and pulled him into his arms.
“It’s okay Tsu, I’m here; I’m gonna take care of you, don’t worry.”
As much as he wanted to let Tsu tuck his head under his chin, he also didn't want throw-up all down his front, which is what happened the last time Tsu had been sick. So Amane gently peeled his little brother away and leaned him back against the tub, jumping to his feet to go through the medicine cabinet. He grabbed another washcloth and the thermometer, debating over the ibuprofen before leaving it on the counter. It would do no good if Tsukasa took it and threw it right back up. He filled a cup with water before he kneeled back down, curling his fingers around Tsukasa’s when he reached for him.
“Here, put this under your tongue.”
Tsukasa made a face but complied, and they both sat in silence as they waited, Amane rubbing small circles into the back of Tsukasa’s hand. He tapped his toes against Tsu’s as he counted out the seconds, worrying as Tsu got fidgety and pale. Just as Amane counted three minutes and pulled it away, Tsukasa bolted up and over the toilet bowl. He rubbed Tsu’s back as he held the thermometer to the light, worry pooling in his belly when the temperature read 102.2°F.
He set the thermometer on the counter and stood, dampening the washcloth and laying over the back of Tsukasa’s neck before he reached over him to the faucet on the tub. Warm but not hot, and just a bit of the bubble bath that Obaasan had sent them that made everything smell like lavender. Tsukasa sniffled, his voice rough and wobbly as Amane turned at the sound of his name.
“Do you want some water? Rinse your mouth out first, okay?”
Tsukasa nodded, and Amane lifted the cup to help him drink, making sure he took small sips to try and keep it down.
“Wanna get in the bath? It'll make you feel better.”
“Ama-nii too?”
Amane shook his head and set the washcloth on the side of the tub as he helped Tsukasa out of his pajamas.
“No. I need to be out here in case you get sick again. I’m sorry.”
Amane knew Tsukasa was sick, beyond the temperature and throwing up, when his little brother didn’t raise a fuss or try to make shapes from the bubbles. Only once did Amane have to pull him to the edge when Tsukasa clapped a hand to his mouth and turned huge, horrified eyes to him. He heaved into the trash can, knuckles white against the side of the tub as Amane patted his back, telling him it was okay, that everything would be fine. He scrubbed Tsukasa down quickly, washing away the sweat and tears before he pulled the plug and bundled him into a towel.
“How’s your tummy feel? Do you think you might get sick again?”
Tsukasa shook his head, his expression completely miserable and Amane wanted to cry.
“Okay, let’s get you into jammies and get some medicine, and then we’ll go back to bed okay? You can sleep with me.”
Amane helped him into clean clothes, both giggling as Tsukasa wiggled his toes in the socks. They waited for a bit after Tsukasa took the medicine before they shuffled back to the bedroom, Tsukasa crawling under the covers of Amane’s bed immediately. Amane took a minute to set the trash can beside the mattress and get another glass of water, bundling up the dirty bed sheets to wash in the morning before he climbed into bed. He maneuvered Tsukasa towards the edge just in case he got sick again and pressed his face into his brother’s dark, damp hair.
Amane woke to sobbing, bolting up and gagging at the sharp smell of bile. His hand was warm and sticky, and only Tsukasa's heaving hiccups kept him from getting sick too.
"I'm sorry, Amane! I didn't mean to, I'm sorry!"
The front of Tsukasa’s shirt was a mess, as was the edge of the bed. He was crouched over the trash, and Amane set his clean hand against his back. Heat radiated up from the damp fabric and Amane didn't hesitate to drag Tsukasa to the bathroom. They just barely made it before Tsu hurled again, and Amane felt his hands begin to tremble.
This was worse than the last time they were sick, when they both had to stay in bed with stuffy noses while the sun streamed through the window. Amane scrubbed his hands clean before he shook the thermometer down. It took three tries to get a reading, and there was a small relief that Tsukasa’s temperature hadn't risen. Amane kneeled down, brushing the damp hair from Tsukasa’s forehead as he leaned in closer.
"I'll be right back, okay. I promise. I'm not mad, not ever."
He sprinted to the telephone, dialing the only number he knew by heart. He shuffled from foot to foot as it rang, relief nearly taking him to his knees as Obaasan's voice echoed down the line.
"Yugi Residence."
"Obaasan?"
"Ama-kun!"
Amane let himself sink to the floor, cradling the phone to his ear as he set his head against his knees.
"Tsu's sick, Obaasan. He has a fever and he keeps throwing up. I dunno what to do."
There was silence down the line for a minute before her voice came back, soft and gentle as she asked him for information. She asked how high the fever was, what he may have gotten into or eaten, what they had in the house to combat it. Not once did she ask where their parents might have been; it was a useless question.
She waited while Amane darted back to the bathroom to check on his brother, then grabbed the notebook he was using for his star chart to scribble down her directions. Another bath, more medicine, make sure he drinks water. Try and get him to eat something, maybe oatmeal or miso. Let him get lots of rest, and "Call me if you need anything, Amane. Anything at all."
He set the phone back in the cradle and pressed his notebook to his chest, sniffling before he headed back to the bathroom. Tsukasa had his head pillowed on his arms, hair plastered to his forehead. His face was flushed, pink tipping his ears as he breathed heavily, and Amane would give anything to switch places with him right now. He scrubbed out the washcloth they’d used the night before and set to cleaning up Tsukasa.
The list of things he needed to do shuffled through his head as he helped Tsukasa back into the bath. Food was a bad idea until he could keep his stomach settled, but they’d have to risk the medicine to bring the fever down. He’d have to throw all their stuff in the wash and put new sheets on Tsukasa’s bed. They both needed clean jammies, and they could both do with another few hours of sleep.
Amane let his head drop to the side of the tub as he shut his eyes, squeezing them tight to keep the tears at bay. He wished they were at Obaasan’s house, wished she was here to take care of Tsukasa so Amane could just sit by his side and pat his back. He shouldn’t have to worry about leaving Tsukasa in the bath to go and strip the sheets and toss their dirty clothes in the wash. He shouldn’t have to try and wrestle the old faded checkered sheets onto the bed alone and make sure their blankets were clean.
He shouldn’t have to find them clean pajamas and socks and help Tsukasa into them once he was dry. He shouldn’t have to empty the trash can and set new water glasses on the bedside table before he bundled Tsukasa into their favorite star blanket and curled up with him in his arms. He shouldn't have to be Tsukasa’s only caretaker.
“I’m sorry, Amane.”
Amane pushed himself up, staring down into the pale and flushed face that matched his own. Before he could ask what Tsukasa meant, big tears tumbled over his cheeks and he twisted to cling to Amane’s front.
“I’m sorry I got sick and you have to take care of me. I’m sorry I threw up on you and you had to clean it up.”
Amane hauled them both upright and gently patted Tsukasa’s cheeks to try and get him to stop crying. If he kept at it, he’d make himself sick again and as much as Amane loved his little brother, he didn’t want to keep cleaning him up.
“Hey, stop that! It’s not your fault, and you know it. Everything is okay now; you’re gonna be fine. We’ll take a nap, then I’ll make us something to eat, okay.”
Tsukasa nodded and laid back down, and Amane followed suit once he scrubbed the tears from Tsu’s cheeks. It brought a smile to Tsu’s face which loosened the knot of worry building in Amane’s chest. They’d be fine; Tsukasa’s fever would break, they’d both get some rest, and they’d be back to playing in no time.
And it was all mostly true. They had oatmeal once Tsukasa woke up again, which stayed down with another round of medicine. They napped in front of the window in their room, warm sunlight making them both drowsy as the radio played in the background. By that evening, Tsukasa was bouncing around with their clean sheets over his shoulders with only slightly less enthusiasm than usual.
It was a shame, Amane thought as he struggled out from under Tsukasa’s arm and dove for the trash can to puke, that he had to get sick too.