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Rengoku is cooking in his kitchen. Humming out of tune to a song that Tengen can’t quite recognize.
It’s loud, but not unpleasantly so.
The kind of loud in the way that Rengoku is loud with everything he does, what with his hearing partially gone.
The sound of kindling crackling, the heavy sounds of footsteps, of something being whisked and poured into a pan. Comforting, if not a bit overwhelming when the sound pillar’s estate has been so quiet for the past days.
He should be out there.
He should be helping.
But Tengen’s legs are filled with lead, and moving from his spot on the couch feels like it would expel more energy than he could afford to waste.
It was all he could do to steady his breathing like Rengoku had said when he had first arrived to see his best friend regressed and panicking.
It was all Tengen could to do in the first place to get word out to the flame pillar that he could no longer be alone.
And wasn’t that just pathetic?
His wives have been gone for three and a half days now, gone to visit their families. It should be nothing for him to get this upset over. Yet it’s three days that Tengen can’t remember. Three sleepless nights, waking up to nightmares twice the first night before deciding it wasn’t worth trying to sleep anymore.
Going two days with zero sleep was better than one or two hours where he woke up drenched in sweat and was crying out for someone who wasn’t there.
His house, grand and usually so filled with the sounds of home, was so scary when it was just him. He felt lost. Trapped.
“Do you think you can eat something?”
Tengen flinches a little, not sure how long Rengoku’s been standing in front of him. The plate he holds is filled with something that smells good.
Tengen finds himself for the first time in three days wanting to eat. Shakily he reaches out for the chopsticks, and with them picks up a mouthful of the fried rice.
His stomach turns as he presses the food to his lips. For a scary moment he thinks the food will turn to ash the moment it touches his tongue.
He feels bad for all the times he teased the water hashira when he refused to eat.
He thinks he’s going to be sick.
Rengoku looks at him with a look of sadness as his hands shake enough that the rice falls from his chopsticks.
Rengoku doesn’t know how to help, and Tengen doesn’t know how to tell him.
It’s so stupid.
Rengoku wouldn’t poison the food. His best buddy who exclaimed every time he ate something good. Who valued food so highly.
Tengen knows he wouldn’t do that.
He knows this.
The regressor’s hands shake worsen when he realizes that despite the lengths Rengoku went to preparing him food; he cannot bring himself to eat anything that isn’t his wives cooking.
But his mind is hazy, lack of sleep catching up with him fully and in this moment it’s so hard to figure out what is distant memories, and what is actually happening around him.
He should have called sooner. Before it got this bad.
“Hey that’s alright, that’s my fault you’re just a little guy. I can feed you!”
Rengoku takes the utensils from his hands.
He doesn’t open his mouth.
“Just one bite?”
No. He doesn’t want to eat one bite. That’s all it has taken for him to be sick for hours.
The flame pillar tries, finally sighing when it is clear that, after five minutes of trying to persuade him, Tengen isn’t going to eat the food he’s prepared.
“Can’t let all this go to waste.” His caregiver says more to himself than to Tengen.
He takes a bite. Then another.
“Umai!” Tengen flinches back slightly at the sound.
Watches as Rengoku eats without a care in the world.
Rengoku’s finished about a quarter of the meal before Tengen tugs on his sleeve.
“Yes my boy?”
He just opens his mouth. “Ahh.”
“Oh. Of course!
He didn’t realize how hungry he was. His own fault for not eating for days.
“It’s yummy isn’t it?”
Tengen nods.
By the time he’s done there are only a couple bites left.
“Feeling better?”
Maybe a little.
He curls up, subconsciously protecting his stomach.
He wants to sleep. He so wants to sleep.
He hopes Rengoku will stay with him.
“Hey! What’s wrong?”
Rengoku brushes his eyes. There are tears there. When had that happened? When had he felt safe enough to cry?
“Wanna sleep.” He mumbles, sounding so miserable even to his own ears. He wonders distantly if Rengoku will tell the others just how uncharacteristically he is acting.
His only comfort is knowing that no one would believe him.
“Alright.” Rengoku says, clearly a bit confused and more than a little concerned.
“Also don’t wanna.”
“I don’t understand. You want to sleep but you don’t want to?”
Tengen nods. It makes sense to him.
“Alright then. Well umm, I’m a bit lost.”
Tengen whines.
“We could cuddle? Would that work? Just go and rest, you don’t have to sleep.”
That…That would be alright.
Rengoku opens his arms, discarding the dirty dish on the coffee table to Tengen’s dismay. He’ll clean it later. Probably. If he finds the energy to.
No wait he takes it back, it’s not alright. He stands up, tugging Rengoku up with him.
“Huh? Where are we going?” The regressor doesn’t say anything, too many words and Rengoku will figure it out soon enough.
Rengoku follows him to his bedroom. It doesn’t take long for Tengen to find what he’s looking for. A small stuffed mouse that he holds to his chest.
He would grab something from his wives but the fear of ruining something belonging to them outweighed his need for comfort.
“That all?” Rengoku asks and it sounds like a trick question.
Tengen nods slowly. It’s childish, but he’s already come this far he might as well indulge come what may.
“Hold on a second.” Rengoku grabs a pacifier from a box that the flame pillar has no business in knowing where it was hidden, holding it out towards the little.
“Hmm? What do you think?”
He shakes his head. The collection belongs mostly to Suma, with a couple spares, more times than not being used when they watch over other littles. There’s a silver one that sits at the bottom that he could grab. It feels wrong somehow.
Rengoku seems a bit disappointed, a look crossing his face briefly before it’s gone, replaced with the same cheeriness that is intoxicating.
“Well then, cuddles now? Couch or bed?”
Couch, he decides, before dragging Rengoku back to the living room. He doesn’t have the energy for this, all but crashing into Rengoku’s side once they make it back.
Rengoku runs warm. Comfortably so, or maybe he’s just cold.
He feels his friend’s cape being draped over his shoulder, encasing him a bit like a cocoon. It feels safe.
He can only hope to sleep and that by the time he wakes up his wives will be home and that everything will go back to being fine again.