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The room was sinking into a suffocating heat. Gasping and taking deep breaths to breathe better, although this was only making it worse. There wasn’t much his weak and tired body could do to change rooms or put a cold cloth on that horrible temperature; no one was here to help him. The members of the Spiders were too busy for a "simple cold"—even if it weren’t just a cold and he was genuinely dying, he wouldn’t have told them anyway—which, although Shalnark didn’t want to admit, that "simple cold" was killing him.
He knew that this horrible suffering would end at some point; it had to. He had gotten sick many times throughout his life and knew that inevitably, at some point, he would regain his strength. The worst part of this horrible cold was his exhausting and overwhelming urge to vomit, but for some reason, the vomit always got stuck right in his throat, going down and leaving a horrible sensation in Shalnark's throat.
Meteor City had always been a home for all germs, as hygiene there was really poor. Generally, too many children died from it, and those who survived had a strong immune system, but bugs and bacteria evolved just like humans. To top it all off, Shalnark had recently used his 'autopilot', which weakened him significantly against the bacteria. He knew he would fare poorly if he used his 'autopilot'; even the members of the Spiders had warned him if he was feeling okay, but what else could he do when he was in trouble with an opponent? He had to do it.
With some annoyance, Shalnark got out of bed.
— I don’t have time for this. — And he really didn’t. Chrollo had recently asked him, before he got worse, to investigate a subject that might have an antiquity he was interested in.
They would soon have a meeting in a few days, and he couldn’t afford to show up empty-handed. He sat at the desk and, feeling guilty, forced himself to do what he had to do. His vision was becoming blurry; he was dizzy, so he leaned closer to the computer, making him feel worse since the small radiation emitted by the device was killing him.
He felt overwhelmed; his heart was beating irregularly, and he was running out of oxygen. His eyes started to water from straining to see the computer, but the latent guilt of not fulfilling his work was stronger than the lethal symptoms at that moment.
At one point, he decided to take a deep breath to try to do his job. The words had become blurry, and slowly his eyes were shedding tears. He felt like gum, as everything was sticking to him from sweat. His mind wasn’t thinking clearly due to the illness, so to be able to do his job, he decided to close his eyes for a moment and think clearly. To try not to fall asleep on the go, he did something where he closed his eyes for four seconds and then opened them again, over and over.
He eventually fell asleep.
Shalnark woke up; he had comfortably slept at his desk, as not allowing himself to sleep earlier and working had made his body cry out for rest. It didn’t matter if he slept on rocks. But the reason he woke up was not that he was feeling better; on the contrary, he felt anxious and twisted his feet to the point of writhing. And he knew it: he was going to vomit. He usually did that when he wanted to, and he wasn’t wrong, as a few seconds later he vomited.
Since he was in his room, he took only a few steps to throw himself onto his bed. He definitely wouldn’t submit his report, and he could even say that perhaps he wouldn’t go to the meeting. He couldn’t even go to another room for medicine—or even to the bathroom—he literally had a bucket to vomit in. Plus, he felt like his brain was frying and getting worse when he used any electronic device.
Without further ado, Shalnark decided that he would sleep until he felt a little better to go get medicine.
Two days passed where he limited himself to sleeping and trying to drink water and eat, but the result was the same: he simply vomited.
[...]
He felt the rays of the sun on his face. Sleeping had alleviated the feeling of his brain rotting, but he still felt tired, although with enough energy to go get medicine.
— How do you feel? —
Shalnark blinked, first with his right eye and then with his left. He knew that voice; even when he woke up, before laying his eyes on the figure, he already knew who it was just by their presence. But that didn’t stop him from being surprised by the individual’s appearance. He felt really embarrassed for not having woken up to their presence and instead appearing so vulnerable while still sleeping. Literally, someone could have taken advantage of him and killed him. He hated that thought.
— Bad, now I’m seeing hallucinations.
Shalnark continued — You know you’re bad when you hallucinate your boss in your room.
He tried to forget the "humiliation" he had put himself through by sleeping when he got sick with a bit of humor.
Chrollo simply sighed — You know that besides being your boss, I’m your boyfriend, right?
The blonde could keep up the sarcasm and all the banter, but he genuinely felt defeated against the germs. Of all the people in the world, Chrollo was definitely the last person he wanted to see him like this; sweaty and sticky, with a faint but perceptible smell of vomit, and the worst of all: in such a vulnerable state. Being vulnerable was totally strange for him; always hidden behind his buffoon mask, jokes to tell traumas, heavy jokes to push people away, and sarcasm to evade opening up to someone.
He was still working on that so that his relationship wouldn’t fall apart, but it was still difficult for him, even though there had been progress.
For a moment, Shalnark dropped the sarcasm, closed his eyes, and took a breath — Am I so bad that you had to come take care of me?
— Even if you weren’t so bad, I would have come.
— I don’t think I would have told you, — he murmured, but not enough, as he felt Chrollo’s clear displeasure at that genuine comment, making it worse — which leads me to ask: how did you know I was sick? I didn’t tell anyone.
He was the type of person who, when he got sick, wouldn’t tell anyone. On one hand, because he didn’t want to hear complaints about not taking care of himself for eating things he shouldn’t. And on the other hand, it felt strange to tell someone he was feeling bad, so his nature was not to tell anyone and act as if nothing was happening. For this, he had a phrase: "let’s see how long I can hold out until I can’t anymore." And Shalnark could neglect himself; it had already happened once where he was sick for a week trying to get better naturally.
He smiled slightly at the question — It’s because I’m keeping an eye on you; you usually send me messages about updates in your life.
Chrollo moved closer to the bed, placing a wet towel on the blonde’s forehead, then took his hand and kissed it, trying not to get sick while also doing something sweet for his lover.
— Besides, I sent you a few messages and you didn’t respond, which is unlike you, so I came to see you.
— If you ask me, it was a bit toxic of you to go to where I sleep because I didn’t respond to a few messages — Shalnark continued with his attitude. Again.
— You literally disappeared for two days, you didn’t respond to my messages, and that’s something unusual for you considering that of all the members, you’re the one who answers first. Besides, you’re always glued to your phone — Chrollo looked at him sternly; he was genuinely worried.
— No matter how much you want to convince me, to me that was very toxic of you — Shalnark shook his head while pretending to be indignant.
Chrollo sighed — Why don’t you let yourself be cared for? I’m not going to hurt you, Shalnark.
Maybe his words weren’t said with the weight that they felt. It was true that he didn’t let people take an important place in his life; he usually pushed them away or distanced himself. With Chrollo, he was supposed to be the exception and that everything would be different with him. Well, no, he was like a certain flower that hides in its bud at night. For Shalnark, venting meant that in a matter of seconds it would be night, as he vented and years would pass until he opened up again. For him, it was complicated to simply let someone see him sick, taking care of himself more than of people.
Shalnark looked away and simply said: — Do whatever you want — giving the green light for him to take care of him. Although the other would have done it anyway if he hadn’t allowed it.
[...]
During the rest of the day, Shalnark spent it sleeping except when he got up to vomit—at those moments he appreciated his beautiful short hair—and then drank water with baking soda, while Chrollo was in his apartment taking care of him, being in the living room, doing God knows what. He was too busy dying to worry about anything else. The blonde returned from the bathroom after vomiting again, walking unsteadily while supporting himself on various things until he reached the bedroom. Once back in bed, he closed his eyes.
— You should eat; you need to regain your strength — Chrollo held a tray with food.
The smell was making him dizzy.
He didn’t want to eat, just sleep. In an attempt to desperately do what he wanted, he ignored what he had said and stayed lying in bed, hoping he would think he was asleep and thus not have to eat to inevitably vomit.
— You’re not fooling me; I know you’re awake, Shal.
Frustrated, he simply grunted — Why eat if I’m just going to vomit it anyway? — he complained while covering his nose and sinking into the soft blankets.
— Even so, you have to eat. That’s why I brought you soft food.
He yelled in response — It’s easy for you because you’re not going to vomit it over and over! — he simply covered himself with the blanket — I’m not going to eat it. The food disgusts me.
Chrollo sighed, shaking his head, predicting this outcome — I knew this would happen — he grabbed the blanket and threw it on the floor.
The blonde looked at him determined — I don’t care; I wasn’t sleepy anyway — Lie. Shal grabbed a pillow and threw it at him, and it was in moments like these that he forgot for five microseconds that technically the other was his boss.
Setting aside his neutral face, it changed to a completely serious one but in an intimidating way. — You’re going to eat that food; it’s an order.
Shalnark ate his soup slowly; he never felt hungry when he was sick — This is corruption, a dictatorship.
— If this is a dictatorship, then keep eating.
[...]
By the next day, he felt much better, although he was still a bit sick. At least it was the first day since he got sick that he had the strength to eat in the dining room and not in his messy bed. He finally regained his appetite, so the act of eating was not a martyrdom as it had been in the last few days. Chrollo simply smiled for not having to convince a twenty-something adult—apparently a five-year-old as well—to eat his vegetable soup. Oh, and also because he enjoyed his company, but that was secondary.
Neither of them said anything during the meal, simply enjoying each other’s company and mutual silence. Chrollo, by nature, was somewhat quiet; while eating, he didn’t usually say anything. And Shalnark, despite being more lively and social, when eating was the only moment he fell silent, simply enjoying the food and getting annoyed when someone spoke to him while he was eating, so to respond to the person, he would pass the food without enjoying it.
— When can I eat ice cream again?
— In a week.
— A week!? But it’s like you hate me! — he raised an accusing finger. It might have been the most prudent considering how he had spent the last few days, but still, the news devastated him — please, Chrollo.
— No.
— But Chrollo! — he shouted. He would get what he wanted no matter what; he was good at that, and even though the dark-haired one was quite a challenge, he would achieve what he wanted whether he wanted to or not.
— Shal, please, it will only be a few days.
The blonde closed his eyes, sighed, resigned, and brought his breakfast to his mouth while internally crying over the lack of sugar. He liked sugar, yes, but when he was sick, he would literally kill for it. And one longs for what one cannot have. Luckily, his food was very tasty; added to the fact that everything had tasted disgusting to him for the last few days, his taste buds were giving him a bonus, making it easier for him to distract himself and not think about anything that contained excessive sugar. But still, he needed it.
Once he finished eating, he went to his room where, now better in health, he decided to finish his work, as well as catch up on certain games in which he had to do daily missions. Every second that passed, his mind cried out for sugar, but since he didn’t have it, he would do what he always did when he wanted something—specifically food or drink—imagine that he was eating it, imagining the taste, the texture, and the happiness of having it in his arms, making it worse to think about anything else when he thought about that all the time. A torture for himself.
Trying to distract himself, Shalnark stood up to go to the kitchen to encounter the worst scene in the world: Chrollo... The person he trusted and loved the most... Eating pudding. Meanwhile, he was mentally suffering to take care of himself and not eat anything that contained excessive sugar.
— The worst part of a betrayal is that it never comes from an enemy — Shalnark approached while clapping, shaking his head.
Chrollo tilted his head slightly and looked at the blonde with intrigue — Mm, interesting choice of words to start a conversation.
— I trusted you! I was even vulnerable with you! And the way you repay me is with this betrayal — at this point, Shalnark was getting dangerously close to Chrollo, or rather, to his pudding — if I can’t eat cookies, then you can’t eat pudding either!
Once this was declared, he headed towards the other’s dessert. He would take it and simply crush it because if he couldn’t have what he wanted, then neither could Chrollo. But the latter wouldn’t let such a splendid dessert go to waste, so without wasting time, he quickly created a good distance. At first, he might have shown curiosity at the scene Shalnark was creating, but the moment he put his pudding on the line, everything changed. He showed no kindness when it came to his favorite dessert, even with Shal.
Chrollo was already anticipating in his head the next moves the blonde would make. He could go serious and use one of his antennas on him; for that, he would have to take out his book—he wouldn’t hurt him, nor would he use violence, it would just be to protect the dessert—but maybe Shalnark would leap to take the pudding from him while accusing him of betrayal. He looked at him analytically, ready for any of those options; there were countless possibilities, so he didn’t have to get stuck on just one; anything could happen. When he saw Shalnark take out one of his antennas, he thought he would attack him with everything, but...
— What are you doing? — he frowned while looking with disgust at how things were unfolding, although still not lowering his guard, he approached Shalnark slowly.
Shalnark smiled, but not in a sweet or mocking way, but with a triumphant smile. His eyes mocked him as if they were playing chess and Chrollo had already lost before making a move — You love me, and you would never do anything bad to me — he changed his smile to one of pure false innocence.
He brought his hand, which held the antenna, dangerously close to his neck — I will use my autopilot mode; that will tire me out and weaken me enough to get sick again. But not only that, because the order I will give myself will not be to take your pudding, Chrollo, but to run, run without any specific place to go, making sure I never stop until, of course, my nen runs out and I collapse.
Shalnark was good at getting what he wanted. He didn’t care about the consequences to obtain what he so desired, and since he was equally good at manipulating, he could get everything on a silver platter. Chrollo could stop him, of course; he could take out his book to use a stolen ability to stop him, but the thing was that Shal would use his autopilot mode and get sick again. He could also use his authority as his boss to force him to stop everything, but before he could even speak, Shalnark would use his ability and then he wouldn’t be able to listen to him.
He left the pudding on the table; only then did the blonde relax a bit — I guess I shouldn’t have eaten desserts in your presence while you were sick.
— No, you shouldn’t have.
At the end of the day, the two ended up sitting in the living room of Shalnark’s apartment, side by side, while staring into nothing— their heads resting against each other— both of them, in the end, ended up eating fruit. Chrollo ate watermelon while Shalnark ate grapes. While the blonde was sick, Chrollo couldn’t eat anything that contained excessive sugars, so Shal would take care of himself. Even though it wasn’t the ending he originally wanted, Shalnark thought if he couldn’t have it, then Chrollo couldn’t either, and that was enough for him to feel satisfied.
In the end, letting someone take care of you doesn’t feel so bad.