Work Text:
Shoko was woken by her phone ringing.
She blearily pawed at her bedside table until she found it, the bright screen making her squint in the darkness. She had two missed calls, and as soon as she processed this, the phone started ringing a third time.
She picked up with a sigh. “Satoru, it is three o’clock in the morning.”
Satoru’s voice came through rushed and unclear. “I know, I’m sorry Shoko, but I need help.”
Shoko sat up immediately. Satoru never apologized. “What happened? Are you hurt?”
“No, it’s not me, it’s Megumi, he’s really sick and I thought he was getting better but his forehead feels a lot hotter and the stuff from the corner store isn’t helping and I don’t know what to do. Please can you take a look at him if I bring him to the school?” He spoke so fast she could barely process what he was saying.
Megumi? “The Fushiguro kid?”
“Yes, him, I’m at the kids’ apartment, he hasn’t eaten all day except for a little rice, I’m barely able to get water into him, I thought he would improve but I should have called earlier–”
“Satoru. Calm down and bring him in. I’ll meet you in the infirmary.”
Satoru let out a large breath that crackled through the phone. “Thank you, Shoko, we’ll be right there.” Then, more softly and directed at someone else, “Miki, I’m taking Megumi to a doctor, she’s a good friend of mine and she’ll make sure he gets better. I’ll be back soon, try to go back to bed.”
He hung up before Shoko could hear the response.
Satoru was already there by the time she reached the infirmary. He was still dressed in his uniform, glasses missing and hair askew, and he was holding a child.
“I know, Gumi, I’m sorry, I know it makes you dizzy.”
“You must be Megumi,” Shoko said. Satoru’s head snapped up and he turned so that she could properly see the bundle of blankets he was holding, a shock of spiky black hair sticking out of the top.
The kid couldn’t have been more than seven, and he looked miserable. His face was flushed with fever, his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, and he glared in a way that wasn’t exactly directed at her but more at the world in general.
So this is Toji’s son, she thought, and wondered how Satoru could hold him with such gentleness.
“My name is Shoko,” she said in the best talking-to-a-kid voice she could manage. “Let’s take a look at you, huh? Put him on the bed,” she told Satoru, rummaging through the cabinets for a thermometer and towels.
Satoru did, murmuring reassurances and settling the blankets around him.
Shoko returned with the thermometer and placed it carefully in his mouth.
“Give me the rundown. When did this start, and what have you already given him?” She set about wetting a washcloth for Megumi’s forehead and pretended not to notice Satoru’s hands shaking while he rattled off everything he could think of. The poor kid had been having a miserable time for days, it seemed, and Satoru had done his best, but he clearly had no idea how to take care of a sick child.
“Haven’t you had missions to take care of?” she asked. Surely she would have heard about it if Yaga had been searching for people to cover them.
“I finished them as fast as I could. I’ve been at the kids’ apartment the rest of the time.” He rubbed at his eyes as if they hurt. He looked just as bad as Megumi did, minus the fever.
Satoru had told her that he’d found Toji Fushiguro’s son, but not that he had apparently ordained himself the boy’s sole caretaker.
Shoko gave the kid a quick examination then told Satoru, “There’s nothing I can do with reverse cursed technique; it’s viral and he’ll have to work through it himself.”
Shoko could feel his cursed energy spike, and his anxiety was obvious on his face. “Nothing? Shoko, he’s so sick–”
“Viruses spread like wildfire through schools this time of year. I know he feels bad, but it’s not too serious. I’ll give him some stronger meds to manage the symptoms a bit, but he’ll be fine.”
Megumi was already half asleep, and Shoko coaxed him into taking some medicine before he nodded off.
She headed into her adjacent office, and Satoru followed her with waves of tension rolling off of him.
“Shoko, this is serious. He’s barely eaten since Tuesday.”
She rounded on him and crossed her arms. “And when did you last eat?”
He blinked. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Have you slept in the past few days? Or had anything to drink?”
He was already shaking his head. “I’m fine.”
“Your cursed energy is all over the place. If you were fine, you wouldn’t be having so much trouble controlling it. I know you think you can reverse cursed technique yourself out of all of your problems now, but you’re dehydrated and your eyes are obviously killing you. You’re overexerting your technique and your body.”
Shoko grabbed a water bottle from a shelf and shoved it at his chest. He flinched but reflexively grabbed it.
“I know you’ve been taking on more missions, and apparently when you’re not fighting curses you’re trying to raise a kid by yourself.”
“Two kids,” he interrupted without looking at her.
She huffed exasperatedly. “Two kids. Even better. Satoru, you’re running yourself into the ground.”
“What else am I supposed to do?” he demanded, and suddenly his voice was thick and unsteady. Shoko stilled. Since the day Suguru left, Satoru had become a wall of ice. He would be there when she needed to cry or yell, overcome by frustration, but his face always remained unsettlingly blank.
Now, his cursed energy writhed like a dying thing. He wouldn’t meet her eyes.
She reached out to touch his wrist – his hands were still shaking – but the cool pressure of Infinity stopped her hand an inch from his skin.
“Don’t,” he whispered, and his blue eyes were brighter than usual.
“Satoru,” she said gently, “are you okay?”
He sucked in a shaking breath and his face crumpled, and suddenly he was crying. Infinity dropped and she tugged him to her by the wrist, his chin settling on her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him.
“I can’t – do this,” he gasped, his words broken by sobs. “I’m not meant to – to take care of people, I don’t know what I’m doing. He’s been so sick, and I had no idea what to do. What if they die, Shoko? I’m all they have and I’m not enough.”
“Megumi’s going to be fine, Satoru. You’re clearly doing your best for these kids.”
“I’m doing terribly,” he sobbed. His chest heaved with stuttering breaths. “Gumi h-hates me, and Miki’s so sweet but I can’t do anything right for them. I burned noodles last week, Shoko. I’m pathetic, and I barely have time to be there outside of missions, and I’m so – I’m so tired.”
The admission seemed to pain him, and he only cried harder.
Shoko rubbed circles on his back as her shoulder slowly became soaked with tears. Her own eyes smarted as Satoru cried. He’d held everything in for so long.
Gradually the sobs melted into sniffling, and the shaking died down until Satoru was leaning his full weight on her in exhaustion.
Very quietly, his voice wrecked, Satoru said, “I don’t know how to do this without him.”
“I know.”
“I miss him.”
Shoko gripped him tighter. “I know.”
After a few more moments, Satoru pulled away. His eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, the blue startlingly bright.
Shoko gently brushed his bangs out of his eyes. “Go home to your other kid,” she said. “Both of you get some sleep. I’ll watch Megumi and call you in the morning. He’ll be fine.”
Satoru glanced through the door at the sleeping boy in the other room, and a bit of the remaining tension leeched out of his shoulders.
He met her eyes again. “Thank you, Shoko,” he said with none of his usual levity, and then he was gone.
Shoko sighed and pulled up a chair beside Megumi’s bed. The kid was frowning even in his sleep, but at least he seemed to be getting some rest.
I hope you know what you’ve gotten into, kid, she thought. He’s a real idiot. But I think you’re lucky to have him.