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Maki is surprised to learn that a body as strong as hers isn’t as invincible as she assumed.
Of course, she knows this in other facets, having taken her fair share of cuts, slashes, bruises, stabs, and whatnot.
No, what Maki was surprised to learn is that she’s still capable of falling ill like any other normal person.
Hunkered down, smothered under several blankets on her bed within her room, she shivers and coughs roughly, the fever she has leaving her incapable of doing much else besides stare blankly at her ceiling. It’s a different type of body ache than she’s grown accustomed to, the aches from physical exertion much more preferable to the painful, dull ones that have settled in her bones and leave her incapacitated. Her stuffed nose and sore throat tie everything together into one unfortunate, sickening knot.
Maki can’t even remember the last time she’s gotten sick, so could anyone blame her for assuming a mission in the pouring rain wouldn’t leave her like this? She figured a simple shower and bath would be enough after spending hours in her soaking wet uniform, but clearly she miscalculated. The storm outside hasn’t let up, either, the crash of thunder timing nicely with her coughs as if it’s mocking her.
She hates this. Her physicals were supposed to be the one thing that kept her on top. It almost feels like a betrayal that her immune system has faltered now, and leaves her a pitiful mess.
Another flurry of coughs wracks her body, and she whimpers feebly, helpless to do anything and feeling just a little more pathetic.
A damp, cold towel gently wipes away the sweat before being placed gently across her forehead. She sighs in relief, even if it accentuates that patheticness just a smidge more.
“…You don’t have to be here, you know.”
She means it, too, but her hoarse voice falls on deaf ears as Yuta happily fluffs her pillows and readjusts her blankets to make sure they cover her fully. She doesn’t have the energy to turn his way, but she can imagine that dopey, earnest smile of his hasn’t left his face.
“It’s better than being alone,” he says simply.
“I can manage just fine,” she replies weakly, knowing it’s a bold-faced lie. He chuckles softly at her bedside.
“Well… I was speaking more for myself.”
The mix of playfulness and sincerity in his tone is unfair, considering her current state. She can’t muster up the energy to not fall easily into the sweetness of it.
It’s Friday night, and the weekend at Tokyo Jujutsu High’s student dorm was set up perfectly. Through luck and coincidence, everyone besides her and Yuta had been called to other regions for assistance.
Yuji, Megumi, and Toge were stationed near Shibuya ground zero to assist with cursed spirit cleanup. Hakari, Kirara, and Nobara had been sent to Kyoto to assist in their fellow classmates’ affairs, and Panda tagged along.
On the other hand, she and Yuta were placed on standby in case some other urgent missions arose.
With the others not coming back until Sunday at the earliest, they had the entire dorm to themselves and a wealth of free time, an unprecedented first for either of them. And she had plenty of ideas of what they could do with that free time.
And then she got sick.
Her ideas dissipating into the stormy winds.
“It was barely a Grade 3,” Maki grumbles. “They couldn’t call anyone else?”
Not that she’s serious, of course, but forgive her if she’s irritated, considering Yuta is currently alone in her bedroom with no one to bother them for once, and she’s incapable of doing any of the things she wishes she could do.
She groans at her misfortune, a bad move considering it turns into another fit of coughs. There’s more chuckling at her bedside, though more concerned than the last. There are some shuffling movements to her right, Yuta scooting his seat closer to her until he’s right up against her bed.
She doesn’t need to turn her neck to see him now through her periphery. Every movement he makes is gentle and careful, his hands swiftly taking the towel atop her head again. He slowly dabs her face with it with the utmost care before he takes it away and somehow retrieves a different one to lay across her head. Throughout all of it, that peaceful smile remains, his expression and movements treating her like she’s the most precious thing on the grounds.
There’s a deep, burning throb reverberating within her chest. She decides it’s her illness acting up.
“I mean it about you leaving… I’m fine now.”
It’s contradictory to how she really feels, but she can’t help but say it. She despised appearing so weak and helpless, being watched and cared for. This isn’t what she wants to be, especially to him.
Still, the way his loving eyes and affectionate expression focus solely on her does a great job at letting her insecurities fall to the wayside.
“I’ll leave when you go to sleep,” he tries to soothe her. “Just let me make sure you get there, okay?”
Again, that tone in his voice.
Unfair.
She must be truly delirious from her sickness because Yuta retrieves a steaming bowl from her bedstand, and she genuinely cannot recall when he managed to get that. He mixes the steaming contents of it with the spoon before he scoops a portion of it. He holds it up and looks at her expectantly.
She rolls her eyes.
“You can’t be serious.”
“I don’t think you’ve eaten since you got back,” he says seriously.
“It’s… embarrassing,” she counters petulantly.
“Don’t be like that.” He wiggles the spoon. “Just one. It’ll warm you up. In a good way. Please?”
His brow furrows slightly, his mouth contorts into the tiniest of pouts, and Maki clenches her hands for a mere moment because she knows she doesn’t stand a chance like this.
She reluctantly opens her mouth, just the narrowest of openings, and Yuta thinks that’s permission enough. He offers a spoonful of rice gruel, and she accepts.
It’s hot enough and goes down easily, a blessing for her sore throat. She swallows with some effort and looks at him.
He smiles cheerfully.
A comforting warmth spreads throughout her body, the most relief she’s felt tonight. She can’t give all the credit to the food.
Whatever the case, it is the last push needed for her body to feel that sleepy weight. Her eyelids begin to droop, and some unintelligible mumble comes out of her before her eyes close.
There’s just the tiniest bit of movement beside her, the feeling of something sneaking under her covers, and she ponders for a moment what it could be in her drowsy daze until it tenderly wraps itself around her hand.
She peeks an eye open and looks to her side. He’s resting himself on her bed, his head on his arms and his hands snug comfortably underneath the blankets and around her own. His eyes don’t leave her, watching her with such serene intensity.
“…You’ll get sick.”
“Mm. It’s okay. I never get sick. I wash my hands.”
Sleep is quickly overtaking her, preventing her from scolding him about how silly that is.
“I’m serious…”
“Me too,” he whispers softly. "Don't worry. Get some rest. I’ll be here.”
“And you’ll leave when I sleep, like you said?”
“Mhm,” he lies.
Her eyes close again. Her body is burning up in more ways than one, and the exhaustion that comes with it can’t be stopped.
“…Thank you.”
It’s a ghost of a whisper that leaves her lips, and the last thing she feels is a wordless squeeze of her hands.
Yuta learns quickly and swiftly that his immune system is not as all-impervious as he thought it to be.
Holed up in his room, a coughing fit rattles him, each one firing off like a machine gun until it finally ends, allowing him to groan painfully as his eyes shut for a moment to quell the nausea. When he finds the strength to open them again, the ceiling spins slightly less than it did a moment ago.
His weekend was supposed to be more pleasant than this. His friends were sent off on some lower-stakes missions while he and Maki had been given the perfect opportunity to rest for a moment.
Did the thought that they would have the entire dorm to themselves alone cross his mind?
Yes. Several times.
Did he try not to act excited?
Also yes. Several times.
Did he expect Maki to be called in for some routine mission in the middle of a borderline typhoon that would leave her ill and have him catching it, too?
No. Not once.
He tries to breathe through his congested nose when a thunderclap outside shakes his windows and puts an end to that attempt.
Yuta didn’t really mind caring for Maki. It was the bare minimum he could do for her, even if she insisted otherwise. And why wouldn’t he? Sick or not, he didn’t find any reason not to spend their time together and the last thing he would do is leave her alone like that.
He really meant it, though, when he told her he never gets sick. Admittedly, he did fall asleep at her bedside with their hands still intertwined, but he didn’t think such a minor misstep would reduce him to this.
He shivers sickly, the small movements enough to flare his body aches.
A damp towel is placed across his head, and he sighs meekly with relief. He’s appreciative of his benefactor, but small pangs of guilt pair nicely with the real aching pains he’s suffering with.
“…I’m sorry,” he mumbles weakly, his scratchy voice just barely audible.
“Yeah, yeah,” Maki ignores him, opting to smooth out his blankets at the edges and make sure he’s more comfortable. There’s a sluggishness to her own movements, but it doesn’t deter her from powering through for him.
“…You should be resting, too.”
“Feel free to get up and stop me, then.”
The hints of humor in her voice make the headache feel slightly more bearable, at least.
She settles at his bedside, leaning forward on her chair. Yuta can feel the little smirk she aims his way.
“So, what happened to never getting sick?”
“I… thought I’d be fine.”
“Uh-huh. And do you feel fine?”
“…No.”
He hears a satisfied hum from her as if that’s all she wanted to hear. She goes back to tending to the towel on his head.
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes again.
“Don’t be,” she tells him straight. “I feel good enough.”
“You’re not well, either,” he urges her, taking note of her worn voice and still-stuffed nose.
“Much better than you,” she fires back. “Seriously, how did you end up worse than me?”
He chuckles, a mistake on his part as the worst coughing fit of the day leaves him a mess for several seconds. An embarrassing whine leaves him, until a comforting hand is placed against his shoulder. Her touch is enough to steady him, even if his body feels like it’ll implode.
“I got you,” he hears her say quietly.
It’s a mix of emotions that swell inside him, absolute gratitude and thankfulness clashing with that earlier embarrassment and weakness. He wanted everyone to lean on him, her most of all. This situation feels quite the opposite.
“I don’t know if you’re overthinking something or if the cold is that bad, but lighten up.”
She’s inspecting him, he notices, and he realizes his thoughts are manifesting on his face by the dour expression he feels on it. He does as he’s told and lets it go slack.
Another satisfied hum rings out of her, and she moves to replace the towel. She lifts it carefully before standing to lean over him.
It’s a peculiar sight to see her now, his vision filled with her face above his as she gently wipes the sweat from his brow. She slowly moves up and traces the scar across his crown before pulling away, leaving only him, her, and their eyes locked together.
Maybe it’s the mild delirium, but he thinks getting sick isn’t so bad.
He’s forced to look away to avoid coughing in her face, and he decides that he should think on it more.
He sees that soft smirk of hers again, and she pulls back.
When she comes close again, she’s holding a bowl and a spoon up to him, a glint of mischievousness in her eyes. Yuta smiles nervously.
“Oh, um… it’s okay—”
“So it is embarrassing.”
“No, no, not at all,” he says truthfully.
“Then what’s the problem?” she says as she inches the spoon closer to his mouth.
“I’m… not really a fan of the taste.”
“A damn shame,” she tells him, the spoon of gruel continuing unimpeded. “Eat up.”
“Wait—”
“It’s good for you.”
“Maki—”
He’s powerless to stop her, the spoon easily entering his stuttering mouth and depositing a healthy portion for him to consume.
Yuta is a big boy, even if the way he struggles to let it go down and the little “bleh” that leaves his mouth when he’s done says otherwise.
When he looks to his side, Maki’s watching him with an amused, charmed expression.
“Feel warm?”
In multiple ways, he keeps to himself.
For her, he simply nods.
“Good.”
She gets up from her seat, and Yuta thinks it’s time for her to leave. It’s unfortunate their Saturday has to end this way, but he’s grateful that he didn’t have to spend it sniveling alone. He closes his eyes, ready to say goodbye, until he feels the weight of someone climbing atop his bed.
Maki’s already made herself snug underneath his blankets before he can say anything, her head lying comfortably atop his chest.
He waits and waits for the other shoe to drop. Maki takes the time to fit herself more neatly beside him.
“Um… Maki?”
“Hm?”
“…I’m sick.”
“And so am I.”
“…Isn’t this bad?”
“What’s the worst that can happen? We get more sick?”
Perhaps it’s the way she feels sidled up against him or how quickly he feels sleep approaching, but he thinks her argument doesn't sound so bad right now.
Finding no reason to complain, Yuta heaves a heavy sigh and closes his eyes.
He lets the warmth of her take him the rest of the way.
Yuta and Maki both learn that they might need to treat illnesses more seriously going forward.
Yuta goes from sneezing to coughing before he groans painfully, his voice eliciting panicked yelps and shuffling around his room.
“Don’t die, senpai!”
“There’s so much life left to live, Yuta!”
“Salmon!”
Yuji awkwardly throws another blanket over him, unsure of what else to do, while Toge slaps a cooling patch across his head. Panda scampers around his bed trying to smooth out any uneven ripples in his sheets.
Their volume doesn’t serve well for his nausea, but he appreciates their effort.
“You should’ve called us the moment you two had gotten sick, senpai.”
Megumi’s voice calls out somewhere, the boy electing to take a feather duster and clean his room. He passes by his closed glass doors and opens the curtains, rays of sunlight flooding his room and burning his eyes. The others continue to fuss over him, all of them masked up and wearing gloves while they handle him like he’s radioactive.
Yuta’s whimpered chuckle comes out meekly.
“Ieiri said it wasn't serious," he manages to say. "And we didn’t want to bother you all.”
“Yeah, I dunno,” Yuji says. “We thought Maki-senpai was dead when we showed up. That was pretty bothersome.”
Yuta chuckles again, more painfully this time.
When the two of them had woken up, the first thing they realized was that, yes, they could get sicker.
The second thing they realized was the sounds of their friends arriving and stomping through the hallways, calling out for them.
Yuta was too debilitated to move, so he couldn’t even fathom how Maki managed to jump out of his bed and stumble out of his room. Apparently, she had collapsed somewhere in the hallways, if the crashing sounds and everyone’s frightened shrieks meant anything.
“Is Maki alright?” he has to ask.
Toge pulls out his phone and removes a glove to type up a message.
∭
Someone’s text tone rings throughout her room. Even that sound is much too loud for her and her splitting headache.
“How are you feeling, Maki?” Kirara asks underneath her mask.
“What do you think?” she croaks back.
There’s an acknowledging hum followed by typing.
“‘Still… feels… like… shit…,’” Maki can hear her senior recite quietly while shooting a message back.
In contrast to their upperclassman’s lax attitude, Nobara flies around Maki’s room, scrubbing every surface clean with a brush while frantically checking every second to make sure Maki is at her most comfortable. Nobara sprays some pleasantly scented disinfectant spray into the air, the mist falling all over Hakari lazing away at the foot of her bed, before sitting at Maki’s side.
“Are you too hot?”
“No.”
“Too cold?”
“No.”
“Do you need more pillows?”
“No.”
“Blankets?”
“No.”
“A little wouldn’t hurt.”
Maki is appreciative that Nobara is treating her with utmost care, truly, but another heaping of blankets dropped on her doesn’t really do much besides causing her to groan from the added pressure. She decides to let it go, though, when she sees the girl fret over her. It takes several seconds for Nobara to settle down before the worry on her face turns vindictive, her one eye narrowing.
“That Okkotsu leaving you in the hallway like that…” she grumbles angrily.
“He’s sick, too,” Maki defends him.
“He can be sick after he puts you back to bed,” Nobara clicks her tongue. “If he dies doing so, he can consider it an honor.”
“I’m the one who made him sick, you know that, right?”
Nobara doesn’t have much to say to that, but it still doesn’t stop her from mumbling some obscenities only she can hear.
“How’d that even happen, anyway?” Hakari asks absentmindedly. “What, were you and Okkotsu swapping spit or something?”
Unfortunately, Maki is bedridden, preventing her from smacking the man, so she takes solace in the fact that Nobara and Kirara do it for her.
After Hakari is reasonably disciplined, a resounding ring of text tones fills the air, their phones vibrating all at once. Maki leaves it to them to check, and Kirara snickers amusedly before holding a phone up for Maki to see.
It’s a message from Yuji to their group chat. A picture is attached with Yuji, Toge, Panda, and Megumi (looking much more reluctant than the rest) cheerily holding up peace signs to them, the smiles underneath their masks evident. The four of them are crowded around Yuta’s bed, the boy looking like a singular head sticking out of a cocoon of blankets.
Yuji [12:21 pm]: (image222.png)
Yuji [12:21 pm]: Senpai says he hopes you feel better soon!
The sight of him in contrast to the others draws a genuine chuckle out of her.
Before she knows it, Nobara and Hakari surround her in a similar fashion as Kirara snaps a selfie shot to send back before Maki can stop her.
“Anything you wanna say back?” Kirara coos.
Maki rolls her eyes with hints of a smile on her face.
“Tell him to wash his hands next time.”