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“I’m not sick.”
That was the first thing Nezumi said when Shion gave him that look. Shion wasn’t buying that lame excuse though. This rat was a liar when it came to this kind of thing, to many kinds of things. He could see a very slight redness to Nezumi’s face. It was a fever, wasn’t it?
“Nezumi.”
Shion tried to be firm in his tone but his voice wavered and Nezumi took the opportunity.
“I’m fine.”
He didn’t look fine.
“You’re not, though!” Shion argued.
Nezumi nearly scoffed.
“I am.”
Nezumi’s tone conveyed “I am right but also am clearly about to fall over.” He seemed so sure of himself yet looked like a leaf blowing about in the wind.
“Nezumi…” Shion tried again, his voice softer now.
“Shion?”
Nezumi sounded confused. He was confused. The room was spinning, swaying back and forth, the motion like a pendulum. Shion watched as it happened in something akin to slow motion.
That’s a funny word. Pen, due, lum. Huh. Everything’s really blurry.
With that, Nezumi was unconscious, sprawled on the floor like something from a movie.
“I told you that you had a fever… Even you can get sick,” Shion mumbled to himself.
The white-haired boy wasted no time collecting Nezumi from his spot on the floor and carrying him over to the singular bed that existed within the bunker they called home. Nezumi often said he should take it as he was a “prince” (Shion knew it was meant as a jab) but he thought that sick people should rank above princes, in this case at least.
The bed must be more comfortable than that couch anyway!
“Just rest for once,” Shion told Nezumi as though the other might hear him, “You need it.”
Nezumi’s usual cocky expressions were replaced with a serene look that Shion had only seen from him when he was on stage. It was kind of nice to see the calm look he had, but Shion knew it wouldn’t last. He had fainted from a fever. Such symptoms are hardly comfortable.
“Ah… I should get a towel for his forehead…”
Shion didn’t know who he was talking to. Maybe it really was Nezumi. It didn’t feel like everyone was home unless they were both in the bunker with Shion prattling on about some nonsense with Nezumi telling him it was stupid while listening as intently as a child would a bedtime story. Both were aware of it. They just preferred to let it remain unmentioned.
Shion rushed to the other side of their home to wet a towel for the sick rat, coming back with a bowl of water in hand as needed. He folded the towel neatly and placed it onto the burning hot forehead of one Nezumi (really, that can’t be comfortable).
“I hope you feel better…”
Nezumi stirred slightly, but he did not wake. He seemed to calm down as soon as the towel’s coolness aided his temperature.
Shion could only hope the fever would go down. He remembered when he had gotten sick before. Nezumi had taken care of him, gotten something for him from… somewhere. But Shion had to admit that he didn’t know this place well, nor where to go for medical assistance. Knowing how West Block was… he might just get jumped.
He didn’t want that. Not again.
That was… a lot. No thanks.
“Mn… Shion that’s… dogs… donut shop…”
Nezumi was talking in his sleep. This was unusual for the typically silent and mysterious man Shion had come to love. For all the times he had heard Nezumi make a strained sound from a nightmare, he had never heard him speak in his sleep, say actual words.
What was he dreaming about? He said Shion’s name. Dogs. Donut shop.
Shion laughed softly to himself. Perhaps it was a silly dream for once. That would be nice. He would rather Nezumi have a silly, funny dream than the nightmares he had heard about.
“Silly rat…”
As Nezumi slept, Shion sat by his side for a while before opting to tidy their home, leaving Nezumi to his dreams and, most importantly, his rest. He would be fine, Shion thought, he could overcome this. And I’ve done all I can without the supplies I might have back… in the city.
He wasn’t sure if seeing Nezumi sick made him miss home or if he was just worried. As he weighed each option in his mind, Nezumi made another sound in his sleep, something almost inaudible as the mice curled up with him in the bed as a means of comfort. Perhaps?
It was kind of… cute.
Shion pushed away his longing for something and decided he was probably just worried.
With that, he walked away to take care of other household tasks. Distractions are the best for a worried mind, something someone had said to him once. Maybe it was his mother. He didn’t remember anymore, but he thought it might be nice to attribute such advice to her.
It was only a couple of hours later when Nezumi sat up in the bed and held his head. At least he didn’t feel like the world was spinning and swaying like a ship this time. He looked around as his vision adjusted to being awake again. Since when was the bunker this clean?
“...”
He remained silent momentarily as he looked around the much cleaner environment, searching for the idiot he lived with. Said affectionately though it was rarely admitted.
“Shion,” Nezumi spoke after a moment.
Shion spawned, appearing out of thin air as far as Nezumi was concerned with his sickness.
“Oh, you’re awake! How are you? Do you need anything? You were really sick and-”
Nezumi felt his head spin again at the flurry of concepts hurled his way. He shot Shion a look as he shushed him.
“Too many words.”
Shion stopped mid-sentence (you could hear the tires screeching) and decided on a simpler question while Nezumi was hoping he would be able to process Shion’s sentence this time.
“Feel any better?”
“A little,” Nezumi said before he paused, “Why are you dressed like that? Did I own an apron?”
“I found it…” Shion trailed off.
Nezumi decided that was a question for later. He was too ill to think further on the subject.
“Okay. Why?” he chose to ask.
Shion grinned, letting out a soft laugh.
“I’m making you dinner!”
Food would be nice, Nezumi supposed.
“Huh, alright, thanks.”
Nezumi offered a smile at Shion, a rare genuine expression without the typical snark. He watched Shion walk back towards the kitchen for a moment before he turned his attention to the rats curled up with him.
Were they worried too?
He was going to pick them up for a moment, thinking they deserved some acknowledgment of their behavior. Ugh, Shion was rubbing off on him, but Shion startled him by appearing next to him again.
“Also, Nezumi?” Shion asked.
Nezumi tensed, thankful only for the fact that he didn’t jolt out of the bed or onto the rats. He turned to Shion with a deadpan.
“Tch. What now?”
“What was it about dogs and a donut shop?”
Nezumi’s face flushed slightly at the memory of his dream, now realizing Shion heard him talk about that nonsense in his sleep. How embarrassing, he wanted to erase that memory.
“...No reason.”
“Your face is all red? Do you have a worse fever?” Shion feigned worry.
“Now you’re just being annoying.”
“It’s my best quality!”
“It’s kind of endearing, I guess.”