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Haruchiyo found himself in Mucho's flat more often than not, even if he made a little effort to avoid it. Maybe it was the shame that came with beginning to rely on him. Or the fear that no one could provide him with a secure haven. The maxim was, "The lower the expectations, the smaller the disappointment when finding out." Every time he stayed at his brother's house long enough, it would come back to haunt him with scrutiny and judgment. His brain stopped labelling it as the home he grew up in. It was just Takeomi’s home, now that their grandparents were touring overseas.
Haruchiyo barely spent any time there and he tended to run away to avoid any more silent treatment and yelling. Takeomi stopped searching for him after the fifth time, knowing Haruchiyo would feel bad to keep relying on the Sanos and return.
And he was right. The same sentiment now also was directed at his captain. Even if Haruchiyo tried to switch between spending time among friends to not appear desperate, it was difficult and people talked among one another.
But somehow, his captain always managed to get him to accept his help. Typically, he did it so casually or phrased it in another manner for Haruchiyo to catch on.
Whether it was a simple nap, or wordlessly tossing him a sandwich in his lap. However, Haruchiyo's insisting paranoid voice always yelled at him to not get used to that kindness.
Whether it was Mikey, Baji or his captain.
But since when did teenagers were known for making good decisions?
Now, the recklessness in lingering around in bad weather and cold streets caught up to Haruchiyo’s health. Another hurdle to deal with, another problem to hide. All it left him was a sore body and mucus in his lungs. No appetite and the wish for proper rest was impossible with the pain he felt. Not able to move properly, not able to sleep. It was an endless cycle with problems fed from one another.
He didn’t want to return home, now that he was sick. Haruchiyo can already remember the useless feeling stuck in bed until his younger sister would remind Takeomi if they even bought medicine. He would leave soup out for him and Haruchiyo wouldn’t notice until it got too cold. Then, he typically would scold him endlessly for spending far too long outside; he wouldn’t be sick if he didn’t run from his problems always.
That he let the soup get cold and he didn’t tell him.
And all the reminders of how Haruchiyo should read his mind and act accordingly brought an empty sensation in his chest.
A continued ringing in his ears because it was a routine at this point.
He didn’t know who to call or ask for help this time. Not wishing to be caught- Asking any friends would just alert their parents then they would call his brother. Let alone, he couldn’t help but feel too unfit to be able to ask for help from any of them. Mikey, especially. Haruchiyo had been relying on him a lot to have a place to crash in the past when he couldn’t stay at his family’s place anymore. Now, Mikey had his own hands full with familial problems where Haruchiyo found it best to not burden him.
Shinichiro often slipped up and called Takeomi after making Haruchiyo reconsider. They were close friends after all, so Shinichiro often gave his brother the benefit of the doubt that just one more talk would fix it.
It never did and even when Haruchiyo’s image of Shinichiro always was good, a brother he wished he had, envying Mikey, an underlying resentment harboured at the back of his mind because nothing improves for the long term and it returned to the same song and dance.
In the end, Haruchiyo was just a kid of many Shinichiro occasionally helped and his lack of expectation started to match it. He should be grateful that the Sanos even bothered to help and not expect more. Even if no one told him that, Haruchiyo fixated on it due to his lack of self-value and trust.
His temperament in being sick was terrible when he already disliked the feeling of being dirty, and Haruchiyo didn’t want anyone to deal with that.
All Haruchiyo could do was pretend to be okay and hope the sickness would just go away that no one would notice. Maybe snag a few naps here and there on the division hideout. But that was just wishful thinking.
He should have foreseen it, yet here he was surprised to be taken to the side after the division meeting. Most division members didn’t note any changes with him as his face was covered with his mask- but of course, Mucho immediately found out. His reaction was more sluggish in stepping back before he felt a gentle touch on his forehead. Looming over him, his captain’s gaze calmly regarded him before his eyebrows scrunched up for a moment as he sighed.
“You’ve got a fever. Why did you bother appearing when you should be resting?”
Haruchiyo had no answer to that. Because there was nothing else he could be doing. All he had was to hide in the abandoned factory where the fifth unit liked to linger. The place he lived was just a source of paranoia being caught sick. His eyes were glued to his white boots.
“I am not angry.”
Such an odd thing for his captain to always tell him. Like he could feel the whisper of doubts fogging Haruchiyo’s mind.
“But taking care of oneself is important. That’s a good quality of a man.”
“I understand,” Haruchiyo croaked, clearing his throat from the soreness. The pep talk of his captain always involved motivating the guys to be healthy in the guise of manliness. Strangely, it worked with most of them, even Haruchiyo fell for it at times to feel strong enough to stand up for himself. But today his brain wasn’t accepting it, wanting to brush through the speech. His mouth twisted when Mucho proved himself rather perceptive.
“It’s not weak to ask for help for a while, you know?”
Mucho’s hand felt heavy on his head as he tousled his hair.
Too weak to usually struggle against the gesture or complain about his hair being ruined, the nicety. The body was more honest than his mind as he accepted, slacking his shoulders and almost tumbling forward if Mucho hadn’t caught him.
His body was so warm, despite the cold weather.
“You are shaking. Did you eat anything today?” Haruchiyo could hear his captain say.
A pause before he leaned further against his captain.
His breathing was ragged and it sounded like a lot of phlegm stuck in his lungs.
“I am not hungry.”
Another sigh which felt disapproving in his paranoid mind.
For a moment, Haruchiyo dared to look at his captain. Trying to search for some form of emotions in his features. Something that would alert him on how he fucked up. But all it did was put him on edge with getting encountered by a worried look.
“That doesn’t answer my question, Sanzu. If you need anything, you can tell me.”
His captain had his way of never forcing his help on him. He put the ball in the court for Haruchiyo to decide whether to kick the ball or not. Sometimes, Haruchiyo wished he could command it, so he didn’t have to think. Not forced to choose for himself. He gave a slight nod before he rested on the creaky couch.
“I will be fine with sleeping it off…”
There was the sound of shuffling and Haruchiyo could almost hear the gears turning in Mucho’s head.
When it clicked, Mucho noted the obvious
“It’s cold here. That’s not a place to sleep.”
The fog was even thick when looking out of the missing glass windows. Today was particularly cold with autumn soon ending. The younger teen merely hummed in acknowledgement.
“Do you have a proper place to stay? That’s not… here.”
Define proper, was something Haruchiyo wanted to ask, but decided not to. It was clear to his captain that he was retreating from trying to seek help.
He blinked when he watched Mucho crouch in front of the couch to look at him properly.
“My place is open to crash, you know that. I rather sleep peacefully at night knowing you aren't in a ditch and freezing.”
He knew. He always knew. But how long will that safe roof stay? How long until Mucho would be sick of him? Should he indulge it in until it was no more? His eyes shut at the sensation of feeling Mucho’s hand weigh on his scalp.
“Do you want me to tell you to stay with me?”
Haruchiyo didn’t answer, too busy leaning into the touch. The answer was, yes. Yes, he should.
A defeated sigh.
“How come you can shamelessly ask me to buy you ice cream, but when it is actually something important, you become quiet. I don’t get you sometimes.”
This wasn’t a question directed at him with the way his captain was muttering to himself.
“Do you feel good enough to walk to the car?”
The question lingered as Haruchiyo lay on his back to stare at the ceiling. Squinting like he was genuinely thinking and assessing if he could. Mucho didn’t wait to know. Since his fingers dug underneath the fellow teen to scoop him up. It appeared Haruchiyo had enough energy to cling to him immediately. Fingers digging into the other’s uniform. Afraid to fall, although his captain had him up in his arms very securely. He was too weak to yell, so only an indecipherable hissing came out of the vice-captain, making Mucho snort through his nose. “Sorry.”
The car ride didn’t have any conversation besides small tunes. His captain avoided putting any of his rock cassettes into the radio since he guessed it would worsen Haruchiyo’s throbbing headache. The familiar scent of pines that usually wafted inside couldn’t be picked up and the teen felt almost dejected that he was unable to due to his stuffy nose. It felt odd with how familiar Haruchiyo was when getting inside Mucho’s small apartment. Creaky stairs to get to the second floor of the complex. That annoying wind chime which belonged to a neighbour just two doors away from his captain’s home.
The living room of his captain was practically empty due to the stuff stored in the hidden wall wardrobes. Only a low kotatsu table had a newspaper, with the crossword puzzle at the front, lying around. Probably something his captain ditched when he had to leave.
With shoes off and the futon rolled out, Haruchiyo practically crawled in it quickly. He was letting the softness of the fabric claim his tired body.
“Better than an old couch, huh,” Mucho remarked as he stroked the loose stray hairs from the other’s face. His fingers rested on the warm forehead. Haruchiyo only answered in mutters with his eyelids too heavy to open.
“You should change. The uniform is uncomfortable to linger in. I still got some stuff-”
A bothered noise was clear enough to tell he didn’t want to.
“Maybe later…” Mucho settled.
Haruchiyo didn’t know how long he slept. But the comforting strokes on his head slowly beckoned him out of slumber. Before the soft wakening, it got interrupted by the strong smell of tiger balm. If it weren’t for the fact that Haruchiyo could breathe through his nose better, he would have complained about how it stung. His gaze squinted at the ceiling and his captain in plain clothes.
“Feeling a bit better?”
His deep, yet soothing tone brought a fluttering feeling in his chest. Not even the words were registered, just the sound.
The way Haruchiyo needed time to respond slowly; He wasn’t yet fully caught up from the sleep.
“But enough to stomach some porridge?”
Mucho continued as if Haruchiyo had answered him. It’s been a while since the last time he had porridge, remembering vaguely how his grandmother used to make it when he was sick. Porridge hit differently when one didn’t make it oneself.
He felt the warmth in his belly once he finished it. With that Mucho allowed him to take some over-the-counter flu medicine and half a painkiller. It was strange to see his captain pull it out of one of the drawers in the wall cabinet since Haruchiyo always thought he explored every inch of his apartment, but didn’t recognise this drawer. Maybe he did and he was being forgetful as his mind stopped thinking about the new information and focused on having food in his system.
Mucho didn’t have to suggest changing clothes with the way he brought out a T-shirt and some pants too big for the other.
Haruchiyo complied this time, feeling he would sweat through his uniform. A smart choice not to feel so icky anymore.
“Do you need help to walk to the bath?”
“I can crawl,” Haruchiyo answered, still feeling how his limbs felt like lead. It was his weak attempt to joke with him but with the way his captain looked, it didn’t hit well.
Grabbing the younger teen under his armpit, Mucho let Haruchiyo wobble alongside him.
Surprised, Haruchiyo saw the bathtub Mucho had in use for once.
Typically, the laundry hanger was put in Mucho’s bathtub to save space as he had no use for it because he was too tall. But with it being put out and the tub cleaned and filled, it made Sanzu feel odd; unable to pinpoint the sensation.
It was the amount of effort, Mucho put in for him with no regard for any rewards.
Once, he helped Haruchiyo sit down on the stool, he let him be.
“Call when you need anything, okay?”
The boy nodded.
He was envious of Mucho’s own space. His own retreat, not needing to rely on others constantly. But Haruchiyo wouldn’t admit it to him because he felt he would sound privileged. Technically, Haruchiyo had a home.
Technically, he could go back and sleep there, no matter the agonising mental torment he felt being in this house.
After rinsing himself, he dipped into the warm water in the tub. He wished the water was high enough to cover himself more. At least, the herbal soap and steam unclogged his nose, yet his voice still resembled that of a frog.
“What kinda bath salt is this?”
Haruchiyo spoke as loud as his throat allowed and surprisingly, his captain answered, likely still sitting in the living room.
“I dunno, got it as a bonus when buying shampoo.”
“The two-for-one shampoo?”
While sick, his captain was able to differentiate his judgement in his voice.
“It does its job, my skin isn’t dry and it smells nice.”
He had a point. The older teen was bald.
Hearing the knocking at the door, Mucho wondered if it was alright to step in and with Haruchiyo too tired to be swayed by his paranoia, accepted any assistance.
It was nice to let go of any worries.
“Have you ever done it before? Taking care of someone while bathing.”
Mucho didn’t respond to Haruchiyo’s hoarse voice as he contemplated for a few seconds, before handing him a large towel once the water was drained in the tub.
“My mother was an alcoholic, so I helped wash off accidents when I was much younger.”
Feeling the comfort of the towel and Mucho lifting him back to the tiled floor, Haruchiyo almost dozed off in his arms, despite the sensitive topics his captain muttered.
“Hey, hey, don’t sleep yet, or you get sick without clothes. Ah shit-”
The voice of his captain cursing under his breath.
Likely because Haruchiyo’s pale wet hair soaked his shirt.
Dazed by the flu, he closed his eyes, feeling his scalp massaged. Although his captain never cared for long hair on himself, he patiently detangled any knots in the teen’s hair and Haruchiyo finally understood why Mikey was so insistent Draken did his hair. Usually, he disliked the feeling of a hair dryer, but with his body craving for any sort of warmth, he welcomed it.
His captain practically pushed him back to bed once he noticed him shaking.
“Got the chills?”
A slight nod from the younger teen was enough of an answer.
“If you still feel bad, we can hit up the doctor tomorrow if you like.”
Wasn’t he bothered that he was taking up his futon potentially for the whole night?
“I am sorry, captain…” Haruchiyo croaked; an anxious feeling wrapping his gullet.
“For what?”
“For always causing so much inconvenience…”
There was a slight pause before he gently stroked the younger teen’s head. The weight on his forehead made him close his eye
“When someone is helping you, you say, thank you. Not ‘I am sorry.”
Haruchiyo breathed slowly as he listened.
“But I should have taken care of myself better.”
“Everyone gets sick. It’s not a big deal. It isn’t bad to rely on someone.”
“I’m-”
Before he could finish, Haruchiyo caught himself.
“Thank you-”
“You’re welcome.”
For what reason, Haruchiyo was tempted to ask. But that aspect of his captain was something he never understood.
Why did he care, although blood didn’t connect him? How come he cared more? Just because it was his responsibility given to him by Mikey?
Was that really everything?
He would never understand him. Although he didn’t mind it. His eyes closed slowly as he felt his captain’s hand on his scalp, brushing carefully through his hair. He got a small glimpse of him trying to read a book with his other hand.
“Will you still be next to me when I wake up…?”
Haruchiyo muttered. His eyes widened slightly at the realisation he spoke his thoughts out.
“Sure. Might be in the bathroom or in the kitchen, depending on when you wake up,” he cackled for once. That playful grin disappeared as it got replaced with something soft as he looked down. Captain rarely showed anyone that face. Tender. Caring.
“I am still there, tomorrow is off anyway.”
Warm… Haruchiyo felt so warm and harboured. He couldn’t help himself but slightly inch closer to his captain’s thigh. Hoping he wouldn’t notice the difference, although his thin hand grasping the pants’ fabric was telling. In Haruchiyo’s foggy mind, he felt very discreet.
Lulling him back to sleep, so tomorrow he may hopefully feel better.