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Akagi woke up feeling like he’d just been in a fight. His body was sore and aching, and his forehead was damp with sweat. Sitting up not only took monumental effort, but also immediately sent his head spinning. He laid back down and turned to bury his face in his pillow, trying to calm the sudden vertigo with the gentle pressure against his skin.
He and Osamu had originally planned to leave that afternoon, but that was out of the question now. Akagi resigned himself to a day in bed, and pulled his comforter up to his neck. At least he had a peaceful place to fall back asleep.
A minute later, his eyes snapped open to the sound of someone pounding on his door.
“Akagi-san! If you still want to catch that early train, we have to go!”
“Osamu,” he groaned back. His voice sounded rough.
Leave me alone right now, Akagi thought.
To Akagi’s dismay, Osamu could not read his mind, and continued banging on his door. Akagi got up on unsteady feet, propped himself up against the wall by the door, and opened it just enough to let Osamu get a glimpse of him.
“Finally. I thought you were going to leave me out here all da-” Osamu cut himself off. “You…don’t look too good,” he said, pushing his way into the room.
Akagi closed his eyes and leaned the back of his head back against the wall. Suddenly he felt Osamu’s hand against his forehead, and quickly flinched away.
“So damn cold,” he mumbled.
“No, you’re just hot,” Osamu replied, leaning in to get a better feeling of his forehead. “Totally burning up,” he frowned. “Let’s just get you back in bed for now.”
Akagi was more thankful than he’d ever admit to have Osamu’s arm to hang onto as he made his way back to bed. Back to a warm comforter and soft pillow, this time with Osamu pulling them up carefully around him.
“Go back to your room,” Akagi mumbled. “You’re gonna get sick too. I don’t want to take care of you for the next week…”
“If you can barely make it to the door, you’re just going to have to put up with the help,” Osamu protested. “I’m going to get you some water. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Akagi decided not to protest the help any further. He wasn’t really in any shape to refuse, even if it bothered him. He still didn’t like it; at the end of the day, Osamu only cared about him getting better so they could move on to the next big gamble, right? Just like everyone else who hung around him.
Akagi sighed. It was something that had come to his mind frequently over the past few weeks. He hated the feeling of being used, and the way Osamu grinned every time he saw a stack of cash rubbed salt in that particular wound.
At the same time, Akagi wasn’t sure this was a totally fair assessment. After both worked that shit job with that shit pay, it wasn’t like he couldn’t understand why Osamu would be excited to see some real money. Plus, the way he interacted with Akagi seemed so…earnest?
Osamu did things Akagi found strange; one time he’d picked up a 100 yen coin off the ground and told Akagi to hold onto it, for luck. Did Osamu really think he needed luck from a dirty old coin? Other times, Osamu was honest about Akagi to the point of being insulting. He also whined and complained daily. He also smiled so, so brightly when their eyes met for just a moment too long.
Now Osamu was back and gently lifting Akagi’s head so he could drink water without spilling too much on himself. The water was cool, and calmed the sticky, slightly too dry feeling in his mouth. Osamu’s skin felt colder against his cheek than it had against his forehead, but it soothed him.
Part of him wanted to tell Osamu to back up, wash his hands, look out for himself a little more. Now, though, he didn’t have it in him. He didn’t want any more water for now, so he simply turned his head to hide against Osamu’s hand.
Too soon Osamu was pulling away, leaving Akagi resting on just his pillow once again. Akagi’s hair was all over his face, some strands sticking to his forehead with sweat, others falling loosely over his eyes. Osamu noticed this and brushed them away gently.
Akagi studied his face the whole time. Something in Osamu’s expression was strangely somber. Too much so for someone taking care of someone with a common illness.
“Osamu. Why are you looking at me like I’m dying?” Akagi asked. Osamu froze in front of him.
“I guess…I’ve never seen you look so vulnerable.”
Akagi raised an eyebrow at that. “Vulnerable?” He struggled out a laugh. “What are you going to do to me, Osamu? Steal my organs? Maybe skip the lungs.”
“It’s not funny,” Osamu responded. Now he’d gone from looking somewhat sad to genuinely upset. “I’m sure you’ve been through a lot of pretty awful things when I wasn’t around,” his eyes wandered over to Akagi’s shoulder and its large scar.
“But this is the first time I’ve seen you like this,” he continued. “I’ve seen you do so many amazing things, and come out without a scratch, but that’s not always true, right? Bad things do happen, even to you. And one day you might not win against them.”
Osamu was struggling to get out the last few words. He turned away, trying to hide his face. He didn’t want Akagi to see him cry, but the motion of rubbing at his eyes revealed it all anyway.
Akagi didn’t know what to say. He’d told Osamu plenty of times that staying with him could be a death sentence, but it clearly hadn’t sunk in until now. He wanted Osamu to understand that fully, to let that pain cut deep and really feel what he was risking.
But he still hated to watch him cry.
Stop crying, please. Stop crying and give me one of those silly looks you usually do. Stop crying, and look at me with that warmth you always do, and maybe just this once I’ll do the same.
His silent request went unanswered, and Osamu simply sat beside him, knees curled up to his chest, now hiding his face completely. Akagi didn’t have the energy to comfort him, or even any idea of what to say. So he settled for reaching out, grabbing at a loose edge of the outershirt Osamu was wearing.
I’m right here.