Chapter Text
Fukuhara Tamon has fallen ill, collapsed on the tiny apartment sofa like a wet noodle, blankets twisted around him in some unholy nest, and his face red enough to make tomatoes jealous.
Utage crouched next to him, gently holding his shoulder and muttering, “Why are you like this… seriously…” while poking at the thermometer.
Tamon hiccupped violently and buried his face in Utage’s sleeve, sobbing like someone had canceled his favorite dessert forever. “I… I feel… terrible… everything… hurts…”
Utage rolled her eyes, brushing his hair back. “Calm down… you’re dramatic, yes, but not dead.”
Ori barreled in through the door like a storm cloud with legs, waving a crumpled plastic bag. “Tch! Sick? Of course he’s sick. Pharmacies are scams. Who do they think they are?!” He dumped a wrong bottle on the counter like it personally offended him.
“This is… wrong… all wrong…” Tamon whimpered louder into the sleeve he was clinging to.
Keito appeared next, phone in one hand, notebook in the other, eyes darting around the room like someone had dropped the stock market on the floor. “Medicine… status? Temperature… high. Potential rehearsal disruption… alarming.” He muttered numbers under his breath while pacing.
Utage whispered, “Just… breathe… it’s okay for now.”
Rintaro tiptoed in like a quiet storm, then tripped over a blanket.
Utage pinched the bridge of her nose. “Please… just… focus.”
Natsuki strolled in last, dragging exhaustion behind him like it had a suitcase. “Sick again. Expected.” He dropped onto the floor near Tamon, lit a cigarette, and just stared. “Some survive. Some burn out. Messy humans all around.”
Utage snorted quietly. “Facts… but still… ouch.”
Ori flung the perhaps correct medicine onto the counter. “Finally! The right one! Took forever! The world hates me!”
Tamon hiccupped again, clutching Utage’s sleeve tighter. “Don’t… leave…”
Utage sighed. “I got you… just breathe.”
Natsuki just smoked, exhaled slowly, and said flatly, “The world is a horrible place… Only two people exist, ones who steal, and those who get stolen from…”
“What?”
Tamon hiccupped again, still clutching her sleeve, Ori flailed, Keito barked numbers, and Rintaro rambled about Kanpyo-chan.
Utage sighed, brushing Tamon’s hair gently from his face. “I’m here… you’re safe… breathe… everyone’s fine… just crazy as hell.” Tamon hiccupped once more, eyes fluttering shut, face smooshed against her arm, and the apartment collectively exhaled.
Rintaro was crouched in front of his laptop, eyes wide, fingers flying over the keys. “OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! KANPYO-CHAN MERCH DROPPED! NO WAY! I GOTTA BUY IT! I CAN’T BELIEVE IT!” He squealed, nearly knocking over a cup of water, waving his arms like someone had just announced the second coming of side-character justice.
Ori stormed out the door again, muttering about the injustice of the world, the cruelty of pharmacies, and how he could not possibly leave Tamon like this while also running errands. “I’m going to the pharmacy! AGAIN! If they mess this up one more time, I FUCKING SWEAR!” he trailed off, glaring at the air like it was personally responsible.
Natsuki flicked open a cigarette and was about to light it, dragging it lazily from the pack, when Utage slowly stood up. She straightened, eyes narrowing, her shadow stretching across the room like a demon from a nightmare. Her face twisted into a horrifying, demonic glare as she pointed directly at him. “NO. SMOKING. NOT HERE.”
Natsuki just looked up at her, those tired, apathetic eyes meeting the full fury of Utage’s glare. He blinked slowly, lips pursed, then sighed. Without a word, he closed his eyes and drifted out the door to sit outside, lighting his cigarette in silence. Utage’s shoulders relaxed slightly, but her eyes were still blazing. “Good.”
Tamon hiccupped into Utage’s shoulder, small and miserable, completely oblivious to the chaos around him. Utage crouched back down and cooed softly, “That’s it… my baby… all safe… just you and me…” Her hands stroked his hair gently, humming a lullaby she made up on the spot while Rintaro squealed in the background and Ori fumed about the pharmacy again.
Rintaro bounced slightly in place, still staring at his laptop like he had just witnessed a miracle. “I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS! LIMITED EDITION! KANPYO-CHAN! NO ONE UNDERSTANDS HER BUT ME!” He squealed again.
Utage shushed him gently without taking her eyes off Tamon. “Shhh… my baby… sleep…”
Natsuki sat outside, smoke curling around him, staring blankly at the sky. “Humans are ridiculous…” He exhaled slowly, letting the chaos inside drift away, at least for a moment.
Inside, Utage hummed quietly, Tamon nestled in her arms, Rintaro squealing about Kanpyo, and Ori muttering curses under his breath.
Ori returned a few minutes later, bags in both hands, looking like he’d fought an entire pharmacy single-handedly. “I GOT IT! CORRECT MEDICINE! I FIGHTED FOR IT! THIS PLACE OWES ME BLOOD!”
Tamon hiccupped at the sight of him, his little face lighting up slightly, and Utage whispered, “Good… yes… my baby’s medicine…”
Natsuki had curled up on the floor, smoking quietly, eyes half-closed, looking like he was trying to melt into the carpet. Keito watched him for a moment, sighed audibly, and muttered, “Fine… I’ll go check on him.” He stepped outside, crouching beside Natsuki and gently nudging him.
Natsuki just blinked slowly and exhaled, letting the smoke drift lazily into the night.
Rintaro, meanwhile, had already clicked “buy” on all the Kanpyo merch he could afford. Laptop open, he was diving headfirst into the fandom chat, fingers flying. “KANPYO MERCH DROPPED! LIMITED EDITION! I’M #1 KANPYO WORSHIPPER AND NO ONE CAN STOP ME!”
Ori stomped his foot angrily beside Tamon, medicine clutched like a weapon. “Why won’t you just TAKE IT?!”
Tamon wailed, curling tighter into Utage’s arms. “I don’t WANT IT!”
Ori’s eyes were wild. “THIS IS LIFE OR DEATH! I SWEAR!”
Utage, meanwhile, calmly stirred a pot of honey tea, humming softly, completely ignoring his chaos. “Shhh… it’s okay… sip later… my baby…”
Tamon hiccupped into Utage’s shoulder, little hands clutching her sleeve like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. “I… I don’t… want it…” His voice was soft and broken.
Utage pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.
Keito returned from outside, muttering under his breath. “Humans crazy, messy ridiculous, whatever he’s on about Natsuki actually slept… okay… calm… breathe…” He crouched next to the floor, gently nudging Natsuki’s shoulder. “Don’t go falling asleep in a puddle of your own misery…”
Natsuki exhaled slowly, letting his cigarette smoke curl up like a tiny ghost, barely acknowledging him.
Rintaro was now fully lost in the fandom chat, bouncing slightly in his chair, squealing at every post. “I DECLARE MY LOYALTY TO KANPYO-CHAN! ALL HAIL LIMITED MERCH!” His keyboard was clicking like a drumline, and Utage could hear the chaos echoing through the room, but she didn’t stop humming.
Ori stomped again, huffing, shaking the medicine in his hands like he wanted to shove it down Tamon’s throat himself. “I CAN’T TAKE THIS! HE’S DYING! TAKE IT, TAKE IT, TAKE IT!”
Tamon whimpered, scrunching into Utage’s chest, and Utage just sighed.
The apartment was a perfect mess: Tamon hiccupping softly against Utage, Ori stomping and muttering, Rintaro squealing about Kanpyo, Natsuki quietly smoking on the floor, Keito crouched beside him trying to offer comfort, and Utage humming.
Ori’s eyes were wild, chest heaving, fists clenching. “I CAN’T… I CAN’T… HE WON’T TAKE IT! THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE!” He shouted, voice bouncing off the walls like a gorilla on caffeine. Before anyone could stop him, he swung a punch at the wall, and the plaster cracked with a satisfying snap.
Utage’s head snapped up, eyes blazing with something fierce and terrifying, her entire aura shifting. She pointed a finger at Ori, voice low, dangerous, shaking with controlled fury. “Did you just?”
Ori froze mid-breath, mouth open, as if the air had suddenly turned solid.
For the first time in his life, Ori was completely, utterly silenced. His chest heaved, his fists still trembling at his sides, and he realized… he had met a woman who was crazier than him. And somehow… somehow more terrifying than anything he had ever imagined.
Tamon hiccupped into Utage’s shoulder, oblivious to the tension crackling across the room. Utage gently rubbed his back, humming softly to calm him while keeping her glare locked on Ori. “Shhh… it’s okay… my baby… all safe…”
Tamon made a tiny contented noise and nuzzled closer, totally unaware of the storm brewing around him.
Ori, still frozen in fear, muttered under his breath, “She… she’s… insane…”
Keito, who had been quietly pacing in a corner, peeked over and whispered, “Normal obsessed fans.”
Natsuki puffed on his cigarette, leaning against the doorframe like he owned the world. “I’m gonna go gamble,” he said flatly, exhaling smoke like a fog machine in a haunted arcade.
Keito’s head snapped up so fast it was a small miracle his neck didn’t break. “HELL. NO.” His voice cracked somewhere between a screech and a wail, echoing through the apartment.
Everyone froze mid-motion. Ori stopped stomping. Rintaro’s fingers paused over his laptop. Even Utage’s humming faltered for a second.
The screech was apparently loud enough that some nearby glasses vibrated dangerously. Keito stared at his phone like it personally betrayed him as he saw a stock percentage drop by one measly percent. His lips curled, and he muttered, “ONE PERCENT? ONE PERCENT? WHY! UNACCEPTABLE!” The veins in his forehead were auditioning for their own anime.
Rintaro, oblivious to the chaos surrounding him, flopped backward in his chair and started yapping excitedly. “And then she’s… you know… the businesswoman from that isekai anime! The one who’s super smart and… manages… everything… Slimes, goblins! Oh yes! And she’s amazing!” His arms flailed wildly, spilling a small puddle of water from his cup onto the desk.
Ori stomped his foot again, muttering through clenched teeth, “I just want him to TAKE THE MEDICINE! WHY IS THIS HELL?! WHY IS EVERYTHING SO COMPLICATED?!”
Natsuki flicked his cigarette, muttering under his breath as he headed out the door, “Humans are ridiculous…”
Keito groaned and muttered numbers under his breath while racing after him. “Absolutely not… gambling. Risks… Unpredictable losses… UNACCEPTABLE.”
Ori stormed up, face red, veins popping, and shoved the medicine into Utage’s arms like it was a live grenade. “I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE! HE WON’T DO WHAT I SAY! WHY DOES HE EXIST?!” He grabbed a nearby pillow and screamed into it, muffled fury vibrating through the room.
Utage sighed, looking at him like he’d just presented her with the apocalypse in human form. She crouched down, tilting her head, eyes sharp. “Alright… you little… this is what you need.” Her voice shifted from calm to fierce. “Listen to me, Ori! You can’t just fling things and scream and think that’s helping!”
Ori froze for a second, then continued to mutter angrily, but Utage grabbed him gently but firmly, pinching his cheek. “You did good, you got the medicine… yes, that’s right. You’re a good boy for doing that…” Her voice softened slightly, a single motherly note cutting through the chaos, and for the first time that day, Ori blinked, muttering a tiny “thank… you…”
Meanwhile, Natsuki had lit a new cigarette and was about to complain, but Utage’s hand shot out and yanked him by the ear. “No. Behave. You’re coming with me.” Natsuki groaned, dragging his feet, and she plopped him in front of the TV with Rintaro and Keito. “Watch anime with him, so he can just yap to you, go bond with humans.”
Keito, meanwhile, had been put into the “white room,” pacing slowly like a panicked stockbroker in purgatory. Numbers, percentages, disaster simulations ran across his brain at 300 mph.
Tamon had finally passed out in Utage’s arms, soft little snores muffled against her shoulder.
Utage let out a quiet sigh, carefully adjusting the blanket over him. “Finally… my baby’s asleep,” she murmured, smiling a little as she set him down gently on the sofa.
She stretched and headed for the kitchen, humming softly to herself while pulling out ingredients. “Alright… fried chicken it is… can’t let my baby go hungry…” The smell of honey tea lingered in the air, mixing with the faint scent of blankets and Tamon’s little sleepy warmth.
Ori hovered near the kitchen entrance, arms crossed, looking like he’d swallowed a cactus. “I… I can help. Not that you need it or anything… I just… can.” His jaw was tight, but his eyes flicked to the counter like he was calculating how to be useful without looking like he wanted credit.
Utage didn’t even glance at him, moving like a pro. “Sure… you can help. Just… don’t break anything.” She started cutting chicken pieces while humming a soft tune, totally ignoring his grumbling protests.
Ori muttered under his breath, “I wouldn’t break anything… not that you care…” and shuffled over to help, trying to do something useful while maintaining maximum scowly dignity.
He picked up a bowl of flour and spilled a little, muttering, “It’s not my fault… it’s the bowl… Not me.”
Utage glanced over, one eyebrow raised, then smirked. “Just… shake it off and keep going, gorilla. You’re fine.”
Ori grunted and shuffled closer, still pretending he didn’t care, while secretly watching Utage like she might vanish if he blinked.
The apartment smelled like honey tea and soon would smell like frying chicken, and for the first time in hours, there was a little calm. Tamon slept peacefully on the sofa, soft little limbs tucked under the blanket, completely unaware of the domestic chaos unfolding around him. Ori muttered about how he “didn’t need to help, but clearly should” while carefully trying not to ruin anything Utage was doing.
Utage hummed, tilting her head slightly as she stirred the frying pan. “You’re doing fine, you know… careful, don’t touch the hot stuff.”
Ori grunted, muttering, “I don’t need praise… I just… don’t want it to burn.”
Utage smiled a little to herself, watching him flail just enough to still be helpful.
Natsuki came back inside, eyes narrowing, holding an empty cigarette pack. “Out of cigs. Great.” He flopped onto the couch, glaring at the ceiling like the universe personally betrayed him.
Keito suddenly popped out of the white room, looking like he’d just won a jackpot. “YES! YES! PERCENTAGE WENT UP! FIVE PERCENT! I KNEW IT! I CAN’T BELIEVE IT!” He did a little happy dance, eyes sparkling, completely ignoring the fact that fried chicken was sizzling in the kitchen and Tamon was asleep on the sofa.
Ori’s head snapped toward Keito, scowling, and then back at the frying pan like it might explode. “Seriously? You’re celebrating now?!” he muttered, arms crossed.
Utage just hummed softly, gently flipping a chicken piece. “Let him be… he’s allowed one victory.”
The fried chicken was finally done, golden and crispy, and Utage set it on the table alongside steaming bowls of miso soup and perfectly cooked rice. The smell made the apartment feel a little warmer, cozier, even with chaos buzzing around the edges.
Ori hovered nearby, arms crossed, still muttering under his breath, “I didn’t need to help… but I did… and it looks fine…” He picked up a piece of chicken and jabbed it at the plate like it was a test.
Utage just hummed, “It’s fine, gorilla. You did fine.”
Natsuki grabbed a piece of chicken without saying a word, muttering, “Finally… food…” and started eating, still sprawled across the couch.
Utage spooned a little rice onto a side plate, carefully placing a piece of chicken next to it. “Here… for my baby… when he wakes up,” she murmured softly, tucking the plate gently to the side of the sofa where Tamon slept. She brushed a strand of hair from his forehead and hummed, a little lullaby-like tune drifting through the kitchen.
Tamon twitched softly in his sleep, letting out a tiny, sleepy hiccup. Ori leaned closer, grumbling, “Don’t wake him up… not my problem if he eats it all at once…”
Utage just smiled faintly, shaking her head. “He’ll eat when he wakes up… my baby always does.”
Keito leaned back in his chair, a small smile tugging at his lips as he watched Natsuki lazily nibble on some chicken.
“Hey… you don’t have to be so… miserable all the time,” Keito said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.
Natsuki raised an eyebrow, smoke curling lazily from a new cigarette he had hidden in his sleeve. “I’m not miserable… I’m just… realistic,” he replied flatly, but the faint twitch of a smile betrayed him.
Keito leaned forward, careful, gently nudging Natsuki’s shoulder. “Still… it’s nice, having you here. Just… sitting. Eating. Not smoking, gambling or doing anything you usually do.”
Natsuki blinked slowly, exhaled a thin stream of smoke, and muttered, “I guess… it’s not terrible.” His voice was low, almost grudgingly soft, and Keito’s chest warmed a little.
.
Keito picked up his cup of tea and held it near Natsuki. “Here… drink. Don’t make it complicated.”
Natsuki accepted it with a small huff, resting the cup in both hands for a moment. He didn’t say anything, just let the warmth of the tea seep into his hands. Keito smiled faintly, feeling like he’d accomplished something small but meaningful.
Utage wiped her hands on a towel and strolled over to Rintaro, who was practically bouncing in his chair, laptop open, squealing at top volume. “AND THEN SHE’S GOT THE LIMITED EDITION FIGURE AND THE SPECIAL EDITION POSTERS AND I BOUGHT THEM ALL AND…”
Blah blah blah…
Utage leaned against the desk, arms crossed, nodding slowly. “…uh-huh… mm-hmm…” She had no idea what half of it meant, but the speed and intensity of Rintaro’s speech made her feel like she understood. Kind of.
Rintaro’s hands were waving everywhere, almost knocking over a cup of tea. “AND THE MERCH DROPPED RIGHT AFTER THE ANIME EVENT AND I POSTED ON THE FAN CHAT AND EVERYONE AGREED THAT KANPYO-CHAN IS THE BEST CHARACTER AND…”
Utage tilted her head, humming thoughtfully. “Right… okay… got it…” she said, keeping up with nods and soft ‘uh-huhs,’ though she had no clue how someone could be that obsessed with… whatever it was.
Rintaro glanced at her, eyes sparkling. “You get it, right? You understand how amazing this is?!” He leaned forward, nearly falling out of his chair.
Utage smiled faintly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I get that it’s… very important.”
Rintaro squealed again, nearly vibrating in place. “YES! EXACTLY! YOU GET IT! FINALLY! SOMEONE UNDERSTANDS!” Utage chuckled softly, hiding her grin. She didn’t understand all the details, but the sheer passion in Rintaro’s voice was… entertaining.
Meanwhile, in the background, Ori was grumbling and pacing near the kitchen like a confused gorilla, Tamon snoozed peacefully, and Keito and Natsuki were quietly enjoying their soft moment of calm. Honey tea still sat on the counter, fried chicken cooling slightly.
Utage leaned back, letting Rintaro yap as fast as he wanted, humming softly and pretending she fully understood while secretly just enjoying the mess.
Tamon twitched on the sofa, still fast asleep, blanket bunched around him.
Ori leaned over, poking him lightly with a finger, muttering under his breath, “Stupid… always gloom, gloom, gloomy gloom, can’t even take medicine without making it complicated…”
Tamon stirred in his sleep, little brows furrowing, hiccups slowing. Then his eyes popped open, glowing faintly feverish, and something shifted. He blinked, muttering softly, “Utage…”
He blinked toward the kitchen and saw Utage leaning over Rintaro, nodding absently as Rintaro yelled, gesturing wildly at his laptop. “What… what’s happening…?” Tamon muttered, chest tightening.
His little mind went kaboom: Utage… with Rintaro… was she ignoring me now? Did she… not like me anymore?
Tamon bolted upright, hiccuping slightly, muttering, “No… Utage…” His little hands clenched the blanket around him. He stumbled toward the kitchen.
Utage looked up and froze, seeing Tamon wobble toward her. Her brow arched. “…Tamon?” she said, completely calm but internally blinking. She didn’t expect his little storm to erupt just yet. Rintaro, meanwhile, didn’t even notice, squealing about Kanpyo-chan’s special edition figure while flailing his arms.
Tamon’s little face scrunched, hiccups spilling over, and he grabbed Utage’s sleeve, tugging her toward him. “Don’t… talk to him… not… not like that…”
Utage tilted her head, genuinely confused, but she didn’t panic. She crouched slightly to meet his gaze. “Tamon… I’m just… talking to him. Nothing to worry about,” she said, voice calm and casual, like explaining that clouds were just clouds.
Tamon blinked rapidly, trying to measure whether to scream, cry, or attack, still clinging desperately.
Ori, hovering nearby, muttered curses under his breath, poking the air like he might prod Tamon awake enough to yell at him. “This is… ridiculous… he’s insane already…”
Utage ignored him, still calmly crouched, letting Tamon cling while Rintaro yapped in the background, Natsuki smoked quietly, and Keito muttered numbers in the corner.
Utage finally glanced at the medicine box Ori had brought back, squinting at it like it personally offended her. She turned it over once. Then twice. Then she read the label properly, very slowly, very deliberately, like the universe was daring her to explode.
“…Ori,” she said, voice calm in the way that meant it absolutely was not calm.
Ori froze mid-sulk, arms crossed, jaw tight. “What.”
“This,” Utage said, holding the box up between two fingers, “is not cold medicine.”
Ori’s eye twitched. “It said ‘helps with pain.’”
“It helps with joint inflammation,” Utage replied flatly. “Tamon does not have arthritis.”
There was a long silence. Even Rintaro stopped yapping mid-sentence, finger frozen in the air, Kanpyo merch page glowing on his screen. Natsuki paused his cigarette halfway to his mouth. Keito slowly looked up like a predator sensing blood in the water.
Ori stared at the box. Then at Utage. Then at the box again. “…The pharmacist nodded.”
Utage turned her head fully toward him now. Her smile was gone. Not angry exactly. Worse. Disappointed but controlled. “Ori,” she said, still calm, “did you tell the pharmacist what Tamon’s symptoms were.”
Ori hesitated. “…I said ‘he’s dying.’”
Keito made a strangled noise.
Rintaro whispered, “Holy shit,” under his breath.
Utage closed her eyes. Took one breath. Then another. When she opened them, she looked directly at Ori, expression unreadable. Ori straightened instinctively like he was about to get scolded by something far more dangerous than a hippo.
“You’re going back,” Utage said.
Ori bristled. “I already went twice.”
“And now you will go a third time,” she replied, handing him the wrong medicine and pointing at the door. “You will say ‘fever, sore throat, flu symptoms,’ and you will not say the word dying.”
Ori opened his mouth to argue. Utage didn’t raise her voice. She just looked at him.
“…Tch,” Ori muttered, snatching the box. “Whatever.”
As he stomped toward the door, Tamon whimpered softly from the futon, half-asleep, murmuring Utage’s name again like he was afraid she’d vanish if he didn’t say it out loud.
Utage immediately turned away from Ori and crouched beside Tamon, smoothing his hair back. “Hey,” she murmured, gentle again, like the switch flipped instantly. “I’m right here. Sleep.”
Ori paused at the door, glanced back, jaw tightening at the sight, then yanked it open and stormed out without another word.
Behind him, Rintaro quietly resumed talking, whisper-yelling about how Kanpyo-chan would “totally understand medical incompetence as a character flaw,” while Keito rubbed his temples.
Natsuki exhaled smoke toward the ceiling, muttering, “This apartment is insane.”
Utage didn’t even look up from Tamon when she spoke. “Natsuki. Go with him.”
Natsuki blinked, cigarette halfway to his lips. “…Huh?”
She finally glanced over, deadpan. “So he doesn’t say something stupid again.”
Ori scoffed immediately. “I don’t say stupid…”
Where the hell did you come from? Didn’t you just leave?
“Go,” Utage repeated, pointing at the door like it was nonnegotiable corporate policy.
Natsuki sighed, flicked his cigarette into the sink, and dragged himself upright. “Wow. Babysitting a gorilla. Living the dream life…”
Ori shot him a glare. “Say that again and I’ll throw you.”
“See,” Utage said calmly. “This is why.”
Keito didn’t even look up from his phone. “Take the company card. Do not buy lottery tickets. Do not gamble. Do not fight civilians.”
Natsuki paused mid-step. “…Can I fight Ori.”
“No,” Keito said instantly.
Rintaro waved without looking away from his laptop. “If you see Kanpyo-chan themed candy, please buy it.”
“WHY WOULD THERE BE…” Ori yelled as Natsuki physically shoved him out the door.
The door slammed. The apartment fell quiet again, save for Tamon’s soft breathing and Rintaro’s whispered chanting of “Kanpyo merch… Kanpyo merch…”
Utage exhaled slowly and leaned back toward Tamon, brushing his hair again. “Okay,” she murmured. “Now we wait.”
From outside, faint yelling echoed down the hallway, followed by Natsuki’s tired voice going, “Stop threatening
people. Just say ‘fever.’ Just say the word fever.”
Utage closed her eyes for a second. Yeah. Sending Natsuki was the right call.
Ori stomped down the sidewalk, hands shoved in his pockets, jaw tight, while Natsuki walked beside him sipping a Coke like this was the most normal errand in the world.
“You told the pharmacist he was dying,” Natsuki said flatly.
“I was being accurate,” Ori snapped.
“He had a fever.”
“Exactly.”
“That’s not dying.”
“People die from fevers.”
“In the 1800s.”
Ori clicked his tongue. “You don’t know that.”
Natsuki took another sip, eyes half-lidded. “You also bought joint medication.”
“It said pain relief.”
“For knees.”
“Tamon has legs.”
Natsuki stopped walking and looked at him. “…Do you hear yourself.”
Ori kept walking. “You’re not even helping.”
“I am helping,” Natsuki said, resuming his pace. “I’m stopping you from committing pharmaceutical crimes.”
“Tch.”
“You also didn’t ask about dosage.”
“I eyeballed it.”
“That explains a lot.”
Ori glared. “Say that again.”
Natsuki didn’t even look at him. “You panic like a raccoon in a convenience store.”
Ori’s face went red. “I do not panic.”
“You punched a wall.”
“It deserved it.”
Natsuki sighed, taking another slow drink. “You know you can just say you were worried.”
Ori nearly tripped. “I was not worried.”
“You ran back twice.”
“I forgot things.”
“You didn’t forget your phone.”
“That’s different.”
“How.”
Ori opened his mouth, then shut it hard. “Shut up.”
Natsuki hummed, clearly unconvinced. “You’re loud when you care.”
“I’m loud all the time.”
“Yeah,” Natsuki said tiredly. “I know.”
They walked in silence for a moment.
“…So,” Ori muttered. “What do I say this time.”
Natsuki raised the Coke slightly. “Fever. Sore throat. Flu symptoms. No dying. No dramatics.”
“And if they ask questions.”
“You answer them.”
Ori frowned. “I don’t like that.”
“I know.”
They reached the pharmacy. Ori stopped, staring at the door like it might attack him first.
Natsuki sighed and took one last sip. “You go in. I’ll stand here…”
Ori marched into the pharmacy like he was entering enemy territory, shoulders squared, scowl locked in place, and zero intention of behaving.
“I NEED MEDICINE,” he barked immediately, voice echoing way too loud. “REAL MEDICINE. NOT OLD MAN KNEE JUICE.”
From outside, through the glass, Natsuki froze mid-sip of his Coke. “…Oh no.”
The pharmacist smiled. Politely. Dangerously politely. “Sir, if you could lower your voice…”
“DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO,” Ori snapped. “LAST TIME YOU NODDED LIKE YOU KNEW SOMETHING AND YOU KNEW NOTHING.”
The pharmacist’s smile twitched. “I assure you…”
“YOU ASSURED ME WRONG,” Ori continued, jabbing a finger at the counter. “I GOT A DUMBASS THAT IS SICK. SICK. AND YOU GAVE ME MEDICINE FOR GRANDMAS.”
Natsuki slowly lowered his Coke. “…He’s dead.”
“Sir,” the pharmacist said, still smiling but now with a vein threatening violence, “please stop shouting.”
“MAKE ME.”
There was a pause. A long one. The pharmacist’s smile vanished entirely.
“That’s it,” the pharmacist said flatly. “You are no longer welcome here.”
Ori blinked. “What.”
“You are banned from this pharmacy.”
“You can’t ban me.”
“I absolutely can.”
“I NEED MEDICINE.”
“Not from here.”
The pharmacist pointed at the door with the calm authority of someone who had finally snapped. “Leave. Now.”
Ori stood there for half a second, disbelief written all over his face, before yelling, “THIS PLACE SUCKS ANYWAY,” and getting physically escorted out.
The door slammed open. Ori stumbled onto the sidewalk, furious, hair messy, soul shattered.
Natsuki stared at him. “…So.”
“They’re idiots,” Ori said immediately.
“You’re banned.”
“They deserved it.”
“You insulted their entire profession.”
“They started it.”
Natsuki sighed, rubbing his face. “We are so screwed.”
Ori crossed his arms, fuming. “…There are other pharmacies.”
“Yeah,” Natsuki said tiredly. “And now we’re walking to all of them.”
Ori kicked the ground. “…Tch.”
Natsuki took another sip of Coke, staring at the sky. “Next one,” he said calmly, “I’m talking.”
Ori glared. “No.”
Natsuki looked back at him. “…Do you want Tamon to live.”
Ori hesitated. “…Fine.”
They started walking again. Somewhere back at the apartment, Utage was probably calmly losing her mind, Tamon was asleep and clinging to blankets, and none of them knew they had just been blacklisted from the nearest pharmacy.
By the time they reached the second pharmacy, the doors were already locked.
Ori stared at the sign. “…They’re closed?”
Natsuki checked his phone. “It’s 3 p.m.”
Ori knocked anyway. Loud. Aggressive. Personal.
The pharmacist inside looked up, made eye contact, and very deliberately flipped the sign to CLOSED.
Ori’s eye twitched. “Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.”
Natsuki’s phone buzzed. He glanced down, then paused. “…Huh.”
“What.”
“I just got a notification from the pharmacy app.”
Ori frowned. “Why do you have a pharmacy app.”
“Coupons,” Natsuki said. “Also,” he scrolled “…” apparently there’s a notice.”
Ori leaned over his shoulder.
NOTICE: Individual matching your description has been flagged for aggressive behavior. Service may be refused.
Ori went still. “…They can’t do that.”
“They did,” Natsuki said calmly. “And wow. They were fast.”
Ori spun around, pointing back the way they came. “That pharmacist totally snitched.”
“Yeah,” Natsuki said. “To everyone.”
They tried a third pharmacy.
The door opened just enough for the pharmacist to peer out, take one look at Ori, and immediately shut it again.
A muffled voice from inside said, “Nope.”
Ori stared at the door in disbelief. “…I didn’t even say anything yet.”
Natsuki sighed. “Your vibe is doing the talking.”
Ori dragged his hands down his face. “This is sabotage.”
“This is consequences.”
They stood there in silence for a moment.
“…So,” Ori muttered. “What now.”
Natsuki took out his Coke, realized it was empty, and crushed the can thoughtfully. “Now,” he said, “we call Utage and explain that you are banned from modern medicine.”
Ori’s soul visibly left his body. “No.”
“Yep.”
“She’s going to kill me.”
“Duh.”
Natsuki already had his phone out. “On the bright side,” he added, dialing, “you’ve united the pharmaceutical community.”
Ori groaned, crouching on the sidewalk. “…I was just trying to help.”
From the phone, Utage picked up. “Did you get the medicine.”
Natsuki looked at Ori. Then at the closed pharmacy. Then at the app notification.
“…Define ‘get.’”
Far away, Tamon sneezed.
They were absolutely doomed.
Ori burst through the apartment door like a hurricane, fists clenched, face red, and the scariest combination of fury and despair anyone had ever seen. “I’M BANNED FROM EVERY PHARMACIST!” he yelled at the top of his lungs, voice reverberating off the walls. Papers on the counter fluttered.
Natsuki trailed behind, hands shoved in his pockets, cigarette long since extinguished. He sighed, calm but tired. “…You couldn’t have phrased that quieter?”
Rintaro, perched cross-legged on a chair with his laptop still open to a Kanpyo merch page, gave a long, slow side-eye. “…Wow.”
Keito’s head snapped up from where he was hunched over his phone, muttering numbers to himself. His eyes went wide, pupils practically threatening to explode. “WHY?! WHY ARE YOU BANNED?! WHAT DID YOU DO?!”
Utage, standing near the kitchen with a spoon of miso soup halfway to her mouth, froze completely. Her jaw literally dropped, mid-bite. “You… WHAT?”
Ori threw his arms out, practically vibrating with fury. “I WAS HELPING! I WAS GETTING MEDICINE! I TOLD THEM THE SYMPTOMS! I DID EVERYTHING RIGHT AND THEY BLACKLISTED ME! EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM!”
Natsuki leaned against the doorframe, flat expression, cigarette absent but still radiating exhaustion. “…You really did make it personal this time.”
Utage just folded her arms, brow furrowed, eyes narrowing. “…Ori,” she said slowly, calm but deadly. “Explain.”
Ori flailed, gesturing wildly, pacing in place. “I DON’T KNOW WHERE TO START! THEY ALL HATE ME! I TRIED TO HELP! I WENT TO TWO PHARMACIES! I GOT BLACKLISTED! NOW I’M THE WORST PERSON IN THE WORLD!”
Natsuki sighed again, slowly shaking his head. “…You might actually be right this time.”
Keito buried his face in his hands, screaming muffled numbers at the ceiling, calculating the potential disaster this caused for their schedules, for Tamon’s recovery, for literally everything.
Keito leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples like he was personally responsible for the collapse of modern medicine. “Fine,” he muttered, voice low but firm. “I’ll… I’ll make the medicine myself. If we’re doomed, we’re doomed with style.”
Natsuki raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the counter. “You? Make medicine? You can barely make toast without burning it.”
Keito shot him a look, one eyebrow twitching. “That’s different. I can follow instructions. Carefully. Mostly.”
Ori, still fuming and pacing, stopped mid-step. “…You can do it?”
“I… probably can,” Keito said, shrugging, already moving toward the small medicine cabinet and pulling out ingredients with meticulous precision. “Worst case, I poison myself. Best case, Tamon survives and I look like a hero.”
Natsuki sighed, clearly unimpressed but secretly relieved. “Yeah… okay. Let’s go with that plan. I’m not touching this disaster show, I just watch.”
Rintaro peeked over his laptop, squinting. “So… we just… let him do it?”
Utage folded her arms, eyes calm but sharp. “No. We trust Keito. He’s careful. And if he screws up, at least it won’t be catastrophic… probably.”
Ori muttered, hands in his pockets, scowling. “I’m not watching. I’ll leave if he burns it down.”
Keito waved a hand. “Relax. I’ve got this. Perhaps some smoke…”
Natsuki snorted and took a long sip of Coke. “That’s encouraging.”
Keito set to work anyway, carefully measuring powders, liquids, and tiny herbs, muttering numbers to himself. “Okay, okay… a pinch of this, a drop of that, stir clockwise three times… no, counterclockwise… counterclockwise is better…”
Rintaro leaned over, whispering, “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
Keito shot him a glare. “Yes. I literally read the instructions. Twice. Don’t question me, fanboy.”
Ori huffed, muttering curses under his breath while pacing nearby. “If he kills him… I’m never forgiving…”
Natsuki just shrugged, sipping Coke. “Relax. Worst case, we call Utage for triage.”
Utage, standing quietly beside Tamon, hummed softly. “He’ll be fine. I trust Keito. Probably.”
Keito finally set the last vial down, wiping his hands on a towel like a proud scientist. “Done. It’s… definitely done.”
Ori hovered over the sofa, arms crossed, muttering curses under his breath. “If this kills him, I swear…”
Natsuki leaned back against the counter, eyes half-lidded. “Relax, gorilla. It’s medicine. He’ll survive. Probably.”
Utage picked up the vial carefully, walking over to where Tamon lay bundled in the blanket.
Tamon blinked up at her, still clinging to the blanket, his little voice trembling. “U… Utage…”
Utage gently pried his mouth open and tilted the vial. “Just a little… it’s strong, but it’ll help you feel better.”
Ori leaned closer, muttering, “…Don’t spit it out. Don’t spit it out…”
Tamon hesitated. He sniffed. He tasted. His face immediately contorted, tears welling in his eyes. “UUUUUGHHH!” He gagged, hiccupping, tiny fists balled, hiccuping between sobs. “…So… bitter… why…”
Natsuki raised an eyebrow, sipping his Coke. “…Yeah, that’s rough.”
Keito rubbed the back of his neck, grimacing. “I warned you… it’s effective. But yeah… tastewise… disaster.”
Tamon cried harder, tears streaming, hiccuping, hiccupping, refusing to swallow the rest. “…No more… I hate it…”
Utage crouched beside him, brushing hair from his wet cheeks. “I know… I know… it’s awful… but it’s working, Tamon… it’s helping. You’re being so brave.”
Ori muttered, teeth clenched. “…This is my fault. My fault.”
Keito sighed. “It’s okay… he’ll take it eventually. Probably. If he wants to survive, that is.”
Tamon hiccuped again, curling tighter into the blanket, glaring at the vial. “…Never… ever again…”
Ori stormed into the kitchen, fists clenched, muttering curses like a storm cloud. “Fine. I’ll do it myself. I’ll show them… I’ll show him…”
Natsuki followed lazily, hands in pockets, Coke in one hand. “…This is a terrible idea.”
“I do not care,” Ori snapped, already pulling out pans, stirring spoons, and powders with the intensity of a gorilla preparing for war.
Keito, watching from the corner, muttered, “Maybe this won’t end in a hospital visit…”
Ori ignored them all, tossing ingredients into a pan like a mad scientist. “Just watch. Watch me do it right!”
He turned the heat on high, muttering under his breath. “This time… no mistakes… no mistakes…”
Natsuki stepped closer, sighing. “That pan looks… really small for… whatever you’re doing.”
“I don’t need your commentary,” Ori snapped. “Just… step back.”
The mixture bubbled ominously, smoke curling up, blacker than expected. Ori’s eyes narrowed, muttering, “…Just a little more… just a pinch…”
Suddenly, BOOM! The pan exploded in a puff of smoke, flames licking the sides, black ash scattering across the counter and floor.
Ori staggered back, coughing violently, fists still clenched, ash coating his hair. “I- I um it’s… fine…”
Natsuki just sighed, leaning against the wall, Coke in hand. “…Yeah… that’s black ash. Congratulations. Science complete.”
Utage appeared behind Tamon, eyebrows raised, jaw tight. “Ori…” she said, voice calm but dangerous. “Explain.”
Ori coughed again, waving a hand vaguely at the mess. “…I… tried. Okay? I tried!”
Natsuki leaned down to pick up a chunk of ash. “…This would make a great decoration, I guess.”
For what?
Keito threw his head into his hands. “We are doomed. Absolutely doomed.”
Ori glared at the blackened pan, muttering curses, while everyone else stood around, trying to figure out whether to laugh, cry, or call a fire department preemptively.
Rintaro, having watched the pan explosion from the safety of the couch, straightened up, eyes bright with inspiration. “Alright,” he said, tapping his laptop like it held the secrets of the universe, “I’ve got this. Medicine attempt… number three. Totally safe.”
Ori groaned, arms crossed, ash still dusting his shoulders. “I don’t even want to know. Is it edible?”
“Yes,” Rintaro said cheerfully, “absolutely. Technically. I mean, it’s candy. But it’s got vitamins in it. Health candy. Totally effective.”
Natsuki leaned against the counter, taking a slow sip of his Coke. “You’re gonna feed candy to a sick person?”
Rintaro waved a hand dismissively. “Shh, just watch. Kanpyo-Chan remedy.”
Keito muttered from the corner, eyes narrowed. “…It’s just sugar. That’s not medicine.”
Utage crouched beside Tamon, brushing his hair back. “Well… he’ll probably like it more than bitter medicine,” she said softly, smiling. Tamon hiccupped in response, little nose scrunching, still half-asleep.
Rintaro grabbed a bowl and started mixing powders and sugar, humming to himself. “Just a pinch of vitamin C, a dash of iron… a sprinkle of sugar crystals. Mix gently, mix lovingly.”
Ori’s jaw twitched. “…This is ridiculous.”
Natsuki tilted his head. “…You’re ridiculous.”
Rintaro ignored both of them. “And now… a little heat… not too much… just enough to melt and bind the ingredients. Very careful, very precise.”
The mixture bubbled slightly, smelling faintly of caramel and fruit. “Perfect,” Rintaro said, eyes shining. “Looks delicious, smells delicious… taste testing imminent.”
Ori groaned. “He’s gonna eat it first?”
“Obviously,” Rintaro said, already popping a small candy into his mouth. “It’s safe, I promise.” He chewed thoughtfully. “…Delicious. Effective. Perfect.”
Keito pinched the bridge of his nose. “I swear… if this kills him, I’m moving out.”
Natsuki smirked, shrugging. “Better than black ash.”
Utage chuckled softly. “Alright… let’s try it on the patient.” She leaned over Tamon, holding the candy close. “Here… just a little…”
Tamon blinked, sniffed it suspiciously, then slowly took it into his mouth. His eyes went wide. “…Sweet…” His hiccups quieted, little hands gripping the blanket tighter. “…Not bitter… not gross…”
Natsuki shrugged, sipping his Coke. “Finally… a win. Sort of.”
The candy did absolutely nothing…
The apartment door creaked open slowly, and Mr. Fujita, looking completely frazzled as usual, stepped inside, muttering under his breath. His tie was crooked, hair sticking up in several directions, and his glasses had a faint crack along the right lens. “Alright,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I just need to fix the…”
Before he could finish, Ori, still red-faced and furious, slammed his fist into the door, muttering curses. “…I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS! BANNED FROM EVERY PHARMACY. EVERY SINGLE ONE…”
The door swung open mid-punch. Ori’s fist met… Mr. Fujita’s face. Full, square, unfortunate collision.
“OOF!” Mr. Fujita staggered back, glasses crooked even worse, a small bruise already forming. “…You what?”
“DAMN MAN IN THE WAY!”
Keito, mid-calculation of ingredient ratios for Tamon’s next dose, pinched the bridge of his nose. “…This is exactly why we can’t have nice things.”
Rintaro, wide-eyed, whispered excitedly, “…He just punched the manager… Oh my god, that’s epic.”
Utage appeared from the kitchen, spoon still in hand, eyes narrowing dangerously at Ori. “Explain yourself,” she said, calm but sharp. Ori visibly shrank.
Ori mumbled, “…I… didn’t see him… the door… it moved…”
Mr. Fujita groaned, staggering toward a chair, hand pressed against his face.
Natsuki leaned over, still unbothered, deadpan. “…You okay, old man?”
Ori glared at him. “…He’s not old!”
Tamon, half-asleep on the sofa, hiccupped and mumbled something like “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please forgive, forgive my sins, it was my fault…” before snuggling back into the blanket.
Mr. Fujita rubbed his face, while peering cautiously at Ori like the gorilla might strike again at any moment.
The apartment smelled vaguely of burnt sugar, overcooked herbs, and despair as Ori, Keito, and Rintaro huddled around the counter like mad scientists plotting their next experiment.
Mr. Fujita hovered nearby, toolbox in hand, clearly intending to fix the broken window, but every time he opened his mouth to suggest something rational, someone yelled, muttered, or threw a spoon in his direction. “…Excuse me,” he said cautiously, “…maybe we should???”
“No! No interruptions!” Ori snapped, jabbing a finger at the bubbling pot. “This time, it’s serious! Tamon’s health is on the line! We must succeed!”
Keito, meticulously stirring a small glass vial, muttered numbers under his breath. “If we increase the dosage of this component by 0.3 milliliters… and add exactly one drop of honey…”
Rintaro leaned over dramatically, waving a candy-coated spoon. “And don’t forget the flavor enhancer! I mean, it’s medicine but… it should taste nice, right?”
Mr. Fujita pinched the bridge of his nose. “…Maybe I should just call a real pharmacist… Or go to a Pharmacy.”
“We got banned by them…”
“Oh………..”
Ori stomped a foot, scattering a small pile of black ash from the previous attempt. “…No! You don’t get it! THIS is our only way! Real medicine? BORING. We make our own!”
“Excuses…”
“SHUT UP!”
Natsuki, lounging on the couch, watching all of this unfold with half-lidded eyes, sipped his Coke and muttered, “…You do realize every time you make it, Tamon just gets sicker, right?”
Ori froze mid-stir. “…He… what?”
Keito sighed, not looking up. “Yes. Every mixture has made him progressively worse. But it’s… technically improving something internally, so I’m not sure if it counts as failing.”
Mr. Fujita groaned audibly, curling his fingers around the handle of his toolbox. “…I don’t even exist here. I should just leave.”
Ori’s fists clenched, muttering curses, but ignored Mr. Fujita entirely. “He needs this. I will NOT be ignored. Keito, stir faster! Rintaro, flavor check! Natsuki, sit there and… I don’t care what you do!”
Natsuki took another sip of Coke, looking up lifelessly, then he lazily stretched on the couch, Coke in hand, eyes half-lidded, and muttered, “…Fine. If you idiots are going to slowly murder Tamon with your chemistry experiments, I might as well try my hand at it.”
He slid off the couch and grabbed a few random powders, jars, and herbs from the counter, completely ignoring the carefully measured ingredients that Keito and Ori were obsessing over. “…Screw precision,” he muttered. “We’re doing vibes.”
Ori’s eyes bulged. “…VIBES?! This is Tamon’s life, Natsuki! You can’t just ‘do vibes’!”
Keito pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering under his breath.
Mr. Fujita groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “…I’m going to regret asking… but can someone tell me what this is?!”
He pointed at the black ash…
No one answered him.
Mr. Fujita muttered under his breath, completely ignored, “…This is illegal, isn’t it? Definitely illegal…”
And Natsuki, sighed, shook the vial again. “…Eh. Let’s see how wild we can get before someone dies.”
Utage sniffed the small vial Natsuki was shaking like it was a maraca, nose wrinkling immediately. “…That… is definitely drugs,” she said, voice calm but deadly.
Everyone groaned simultaneously. Ori threw his hands up. “…SEE?! I told you we’re all doomed! Even the depressed guy messed it up!”
Natsuki leaned against the counter lazily, waving a hand. “…Oh come on. It’s not that bad. Technically, it’s medicine too… just… more fun.”
Keito groaned, dropping his head into his hands. “…This is why we can’t have anything nice. Or sane. Or edible.”
Rintaro was thinking about Kanpyo-chan.
Mr. Fujita, muttering to himself, crouched down, fixing the corner of the floor where Ori had stomped last week. “…If one more person destroys the floor, I swear, I’m gonna cry myself to sleep and…”
Ori, frustrated and pacing, somehow managed to step exactly in the spot Mr. Fujita was fixing, cracking the wood again. “…FUCK!”
Mr. Fujita groaned, dropping his tools, clutching his temples. “…I didn’t even finish! You… you’re impossible…”
Utage, calmly sipping honey tea, sighed. “…Ori, please… for once, don’t touch anything.”
Ori stomped again, muttering curses under his breath. “…Fine… I’m just… thinking… very hard!”
Natsuki just shook his head, popping the cap off his Coke. “…Yeah, keep thinking, genius. This floor is already broken again.”
They all slowly turned at the same time and looked at Mr. Fujita like he was the final boss they had been avoiding this whole time.
Mr. Fujita, still crouched on the floor with a screwdriver in his hand, froze. “…Why are you all looking at me like that.”
Utage clasped her hands politely. “Mr. Fujita, hypothetically speaking, if everyone here is deeply incompetent, would you perhaps be able to make medicine.”
Keito nodded immediately. “You’re statistically the most reliable adult in the room.”
Natsuki lifted his Coke in agreement. “Yeah. You’ve got dad energy. That usually works.”
Rintaro gasped. “WAIT! manager-san making secret pro-level medicine?! This is lore!”
Mr. Fujita sighed long and tired, already standing up. “…I manage idols, not alchemy.”
Ori shoved a broken pan into his arms. “JUST DO IT. EVERYONE ELSE FAILED.”
Before anyone could stop him, Ori kicked a chair out of the way, knocking over a cup, then smacked the counter dramatically. “FASTER. MOVE. TAMON’S DYING
Mr. Fujita flinched as Ori lightly but repeatedly smacked his back like a malfunctioning massage gun. “…Please stop hitting me. I am not a vending machine.”
“YOU’RE TOO SLOW,” Ori barked, grabbing another utensil and snapping it in half for emphasis.
Keito immediately snapped. “STOP BREAKING THINGS. THAT COSTS MONEY.”
Ori ignored him and smacked Mr. Fujita’s back again. “GO GO GO.”
Mr. Fujita sighed so deeply it sounded like his soul was leaving his body. “…In my youth, I thought managing idols would be glamorous.”
Utage shot Ori a sharp look. “Ori.”
Ori paused. “…What.”
“Hands off the elderly.”
Ori clicked his tongue and backed off half a step, still glaring.
Mr. Fujita rolled his shoulders slowly, adjusted his cracked glasses, and walked to the counter. “…Fine. I’ll make something…”
As Mr. Fujita began carefully measuring ingredients, Ori hovered behind him like a demon, muttering. “If this fails, I’m gonna bully you to death.”
Mr. Fujita didn’t even look back. “…I am so tired.”
From the couch, Tamon let out a tiny sneeze.
Everyone froze.
Mr. Fujita finished stirring, stepped back, and looked into the cup like it personally betrayed him. “Okay,” he said carefully, “medicinally speaking, this should work.”
Everyone leaned in.
The smell hit first. It was bitter. Then sharper. Then something vaguely like wet bark and regret.
Natsuki squinted. “Why does it smell like the fans that hate me.”
Rintaro gagged immediately.
Keito pinched the bridge of his nose. “What exactly did you put in there.”
Mr. Fujita adjusted his glasses. “Ginger. Licorice root. A traditional herb paste. And… something labeled ‘very effective.’”
Ori stared at the cup like it had personally wronged Tamon. “YOU’RE TRYING TO KILL HIM.”
“I am trying to save him,” Mr. Fujita snapped back, finally losing his polite tone, “and if you hit me again I will retire on the spot.”
Utage gently took the cup. “Okay. Okay. Let’s just… give him a sip.”
Tamon was half-awake, hair a mess, eyes unfocused, already whimpering like he sensed danger.
Utage smiled sweetly. “Tamon, just a little drink.”
Tamon sniffed it. His face crumpled instantly. “Why does it smell like the black plague…”
Ori gasped. “DON’T DRINK IT IF IT SMELLS LIKE THE FUCKING PLAGUE!”
Too late. Utage tipped the cup slightly and Tamon took one tragic sip.
There was a full second of silence.
Then Tamon burst into tears. He clutched Utage’s sleeve with both hands, shaking. “I’VE BEEN GOOD WHAT DID I DESERVE FOR THIS?”
Rintaro slapped a hand over his mouth. “Oh my god it’s working but at what cost.”
Keito grimaced. “Is it supposed to make him cry like that.”
Mr. Fujita nodded tiredly. “Yes. That means it’s effective?”
Tamon turned his watery eyes on Utage. “Please. No more.”
Utage hesitated, then sighed. “Okay, okay. We’ll stop.”
She set the cup down. Tamon immediately curled up, still sniffling, refusing to look at it like it might jump him???
Natsuki muttered, “Congrats. You made medicine so bad it emotionally damaged him.”
Mr. Fujita rubbed his temples. “…In my defense, he will feel much better in an hour.”
Ori crossed his arms, furious. “He is never drinking that again.”
Everyone nodded in unison.
Keito slowly turned his head toward Utage. Like, very slowly. The kind of turn that meant a decision had already been made and he just needed someone else to suffer for it.
Utage noticed immediately. “No.”
“We need a final solution,” Keito said calmly, already gesturing toward the counter like a corporate presentation. “You’re the only variable left.”
“I am not a variable,” Utage replied flatly. “I am a person.”
Ori pointed at her. “DO IT.”
Rintaro nodded. “Yeah. You’re kind of our last boss.”
Utage stared at all of them. Then she looked down at Tamon, who was curled up on the futon, red-eyed, sniffly, clutching her sleeve like a koala that had seen war.
“…You’re all terrible,” she muttered.
Keito clasped his hands together. “We believe in your synergy.”
She clicked her tongue, rolled her sleeves up, and marched to the kitchen. “Move. All of you. Out. You’re stressing the air.”
Ori hovered. “I can help…
“No.”
Rintaro leaned in. “What about Kanpy-“
“No.”
Mr. Fujita looked up from fixing something Ori had broken. “Do you need-“
“NO.”
Five minutes later, the kitchen was eerily quiet. Utage moved with terrifying focus. Washing. Measuring. Tasting a drop, grimacing, adjusting. No explosions. No screaming. No smoke.
Keito whispered, “She’s locked in.”
“Damn well she is.”
Finally, Utage poured the medicine into a cup. It didn’t steam ominously. It also seemed quite normal.
She carried it over and crouched beside Tamon.
“Tamon,” she said softly.
He cracked one eye open. “Is it gonna kill me?”
“No,” she said. “It’s chill.”
He sniffed it cautiously. “…Okay.”
Everyone held their breath as he took a sip.
Tamon blinked. Then another sip. Then he stopped crying.
“…It’s okay,” he said quietly.
Ori’s jaw dropped. “WHAT.”
Rintaro gasped. “She did it.”
“Why did we not make her do it from the start?”
Keito exhaled like he’d just watched stock numbers rebound. “Excellent execution.”
Tamon leaned into Utage, eyes drooping. “Thank you.”
Utage smiled, brushing his hair back. “Sleep.”
Within minutes, he was out cold. Peaceful. Breathing evenly.
The room relaxed all at once.
Ori stared at Utage, horrified. “…Why are you better than all of us.”
She looked at the wrecked apartment. The broken floor. The cracked wall. Mr. Fujita still fixing something in the background.
“Because,” she said simply, “none of you know when to shut up.”
Utage laid a cold rag over Tamon’s forehead and let out a long sigh, the kind that came from finally unclenching every muscle in her body. He shifted a little but didn’t wake, just hummed softly and settled back in, breathing steady now, face relaxed instead of scrunched up in misery.
“Okay,” Utage murmured, more to herself than anyone else. “He’s recovering.”
The word recovering hit the room like a blessing.
Keito straightened immediately, switching modes so fast it was scary. “Good. Then we pivot.”
Ori looked up. “Pivot to what.”
“A-side,” Keito said.
Natsuki groaned. “You’re kidding.”
Rintaro froze. “Wait, like- right now right now.”
Keito was already herding them. “Yes. Smiles on. You’re helping a sick member recover. This is goodwill. This is optics.”
Ori scowled. “I’m not smiling.”
“You will,” Keito replied calmly, “or I will make you.”
Ten seconds later, Ori was awkwardly holding Tamon’s hand, Rintaro was kneeling on the other side trying very hard not to info-dump, and Natsuki had an arm draped gently over the futon, expression soft in that way fans loved.
Utage stepped back, watching the sudden transformation with mild horror.
Keito lifted his phone. “Okay. Three, two-“
Ori hissed under his breath, “If he wakes up I’m blaming you.”
Click.
The photo was perfect. Warm. Caring. Like nothing had gone wrong at all.
Keito checked it and nodded in satisfaction. “Excellent. Post that.”
Rintaro immediately dropped the smile. “Can I go back to Kanpyo merch now.”
“Yes,” Keito said.
Natsuki stretched. “I’m gonna sit down before I pass out.”
Ori glared at Tamon’s sleeping face. “…He better appreciate this.”
Keito refreshed the page.
Then again.
The likes were pouring in so fast the numbers blurred, climbing, climbing, climbing like a heartbeat finally doing what it was supposed to do.
Keito licked his lips, eyes sharp, alive in a way that had nothing to do with concern and everything to do with momentum. “Good,” he said quietly. “Very good.”
Rintaro peeked over his shoulder. “Oh wow. They’re calling us ‘gentle.’”
Ori scoffed. “That’s a lie.”
Natsuki squinted at the screen. “Someone said I look like I care.”
Keito nodded, satisfied. “You do. For exactly twelve seconds.”
Utage crossed her arms. “You’re terrifying.”
Keito didn’t deny it. He refreshed again, watching the engagement spike, the comments rolling in about brotherhood and recovery and love.
“Crisis managed,” he said, voice smooth, already calculating the next step.
From the futon, Tamon shifted in his sleep, completely unaware that his recovery had just gone viral.
Keito smirked, then, without warning, did a tiny, contained little happy dance. It was barely a dance, more like two sharp steps and a fist pump, but it was enthusiastic enough to be deeply unsettling.
“We’re such a good idol group,” he said to himself, nodding, refreshing the screen again.
Silence.
Ori stared at him.
Rintaro stared at him.
Natsuki stared at him with that dead, exhausted look that meant he was filing this away forever.
Utage blinked. “Did you just???”
“I did,” Keito said proudly, still smiling.
Ori pointed. “Never do that again.”
“Rude.”
Rintaro whispered, “I feel like I saw something illegal.”
Natsuki sighed. “I want to go home.”
Keito straightened his shirt, unfazed. “Numbers don’t lie.”
Keito glanced back at his phone, grin returning as the likes ticked higher.
Tamon stirred. Just a little at first, fingers twitching, brows knitting together like he’d woken up from a dream he didn’t like.
“…Utage,” he mumbled, voice rough and small.
The room froze.
Utage was halfway through wiping her hands when she turned immediately. “Yeah? I’m here.”
Tamon’s eyes opened properly this time, dark and a little too focused as they locked onto her. Relief washed over his face, followed by something clingier, sharper, like he was scared she’d vanish if he blinked.
“You left,” he said quietly.
Ori stiffened. “She was literally two steps away.”
Tamon ignored him completely. His fingers curled into the blanket. “I woke up and you weren’t right there.”
Utage sighed softly and moved back to the futon, sitting beside him. “I just went to the kitchen.”
His grip snapped onto her sleeve instantly. Tight. Possessive.
“…Don’t. Ever. Leave. Me. Again~” Tamon murmured.
Rintaro leaned back slowly. “Oh that’s… uh.”
Natsuki muttered, “Yeah, that’s new.”
Keito watched with narrowed eyes. “Is this a side effect.”
Tamon shifted closer, forehead almost pressing into her arm, voice low and unsteady. “I thought you got tired of me.”
Utage blinked. “…What.”
“I saw you talking to them,” he continued, eyes flicking briefly toward Rintaro before returning to her like everyone else didn’t exist. “You looked busy. Happy.”
Ori snapped. “HEY! YOU WERE ASLEEP.”
Tamon finally glanced at him, eyes cold for half a second. “…Why are you so loud.”
Ori recoiled. “WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS.”
Utage gently but firmly pressed Tamon back down. “Okay. You’re still sick. No spiraling.”
He frowned but obeyed, still holding onto her sleeve like it was a lifeline. “Stay.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said.
That seemed to do it. His shoulders relaxed, lashes drooping again, expression softening now that she was back in his line of sight.
Keito exhaled. “We’re not posting that.”
“Definitely not.”
Keito crouched beside the futon and tapped Tamon lightly on the shoulder. “Alright,” he said, voice smooth and businesslike. “Recovery checkpoint. We’re doing A-side.”
Tamon blinked at him, still a little hazy. “Huh.”
“Cute,” Keito continued, counting on his fingers. “A little sexy. A little wild. Just enough to say you’re alive.”
Ori spluttered. “HE’S SICK.”
“He can be sick and marketable,” Keito replied without missing a beat.
Utage looked down at Tamon. “You okay with that.”
Tamon glanced up at her first, like he needed approval, then nodded slowly. “Okay.”
Something in him switched. His posture straightened a bit. His eyes softened, lashes lowering just enough. He gave a small, shy smile that somehow still had confidence tucked into it.
Rintaro gasped. “Oh he’s back.”
Natsuki muttered, “That’s unfair.”
Keito lifted his phone immediately. “Hold still.”
Utage adjusted the blanket so it looked intentional. Ori reluctantly fixed Tamon’s hair, grumbling the entire time.
“Smile,” Keito said.
Tamon did. Gentle. Warm. Just a hint of mischief, like he knew exactly what he was doing.
Click.
Keito checked the photo and hummed in approval. “Perfect. He’s getting better.”
Ori crossed his arms. “…He looks annoying.”
Rintaro nodded. “Fans are going to lose it.”
Natsuki leaned back. “Yeah, that’s Tamon for you.”
Tamon’s smile faded as the effort caught up to him, but before he drifted again, his fingers found Utage’s sleeve.
She stayed right there as the phone buzzed with notifications all over again.
Keito didn’t just send it.
He hovered over the post for half a second, lips curling, then hit upload with a soft little giggle that sounded deeply unhinged.
The menace energy was immediate.
Ori whipped his head around. “Did you just giggle.”
Keito refreshed the page, eyes sparkling. “Engagement velocity is insane.”
The likes jumped. Comments flooded in. Hearts. Prayers. ‘Get well soon’ messages stacking faster than anyone could read.
“See,” Keito said, pleased.
Tamon’s nose sniffled. Once. Twice. Then his face crumpled like the world had personally betrayed him.
“I can’t breathe,” he wailed, voice breaking as he lurched forward and buried his face straight into Utage’s arms.
Utage automatically wrapped her arms around him. “Okay, okay, I’ve got you.”
His shoulders shook dramatically, snotty and miserable, clinging to her like he’d been wronged by nature itself.
Utage stared at him. “You scare me.”
Ori stood there, hands sticky from who-knows-what, staring at Tamon clinging to Utage like a koala with a cold, and something in him just… deflated.
He looked down at his own fists. The same fists that punched walls. Doors. Managers. Pharmacists. His future, probably.
“…What am I doing with my life,” he muttered.
No one answered him.
Rintaro was busy whispering to Kanpyo merch listings on his phone.
Keito was refreshing stats like a man possessed.
Natsuki was half-asleep on the floor, empty coke can tipped over beside him.
Mr. Fujita sighed somewhere in the background, fixing something else Ori had broken without comment.
Tamon sniffled loudly and tightened his grip on Utage.
Ori watched Utage pat Tamon’s back, calm, steady, like this was just another Tuesday.
“…I skipped things for this,” Ori added quietly.
Keito didn’t even look up. “Character development.”
Ori scowled. “Shut up.”
Utage moved to the kitchen, humming softly as she chopped vegetables and stirred miso soup. The knife made a satisfying rhythm against the cutting board, and the scent of garlic and ginger started drifting through the apartment. “Dinner will be ready soon,” she called over her shoulder, not looking up.
Meanwhile, the rest of the group crowded around the low table, Uno cards in hand. Or at least, that’s what they were calling it. To Natsuki, it was gambling disguised as a game. “…I don’t even know why I agreed to this,” he muttered, shuffling the deck lazily.
Keito smirked, watching him carefully. “Because it’s fun. And because I said so,” he replied, tossing a card down with a confident flick. “Now draw four.”
Natsuki groaned, dramatically slumping in his chair. “…You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“I am enjoying it in a balanced, efficient way,” Keito said smoothly, leaning closer with that rare soft smile that wasn’t about business or numbers. “…Plus, it’s cute when you sulk.”
Natsuki blinked, almost choked on his card. “…Excuse me?”
Keito shrugged, still calm, eyes gentle as he added, “You’re a very convincing sulk. Very… endearing.”
Natsuki’s cheeks heated up, and for once he didn’t argue, just mumbled, “…You’re ridiculous.”
Rintaro, still holding four “wild” cards like they were treasure, whistled quietly, “Whoa! That’s so cute. I didn’t know you two were like this!”
Ori, muttering about losing every round, stomped his foot and nearly toppled the Uno tower.
Tamon, sniffling softly in the corner, peeked from his blanket at the laughter, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Utage peeked from the kitchen and shook her head, amused. “You all are ridiculous. But… it’s nice to see him smile.”
Keito leaned over slightly toward Natsuki, brushing a stray hair from his forehead. “Come on, just one more round. For me?”
Natsuki gave a small huff but didn’t refuse, and Keito’s smile softened just a little more, eyes crinkling as he handed him the deck. “…That’s my good boy,” he said quietly, and Natsuki’s ears burned, half-annoyed, half-melted.
Utage held the cup up to Tamon’s lips with practiced patience. “Alright. Medicine time.”
Tamon sighed but drank it anyway. Utage immediately followed it up with water and a gentle pat on his head.
“Good job,” she said.
He leaned into the praise instantly, eyes soft, and within the week, miraculously, he was completely fine. Fever gone. Voice back. Energy restored. One hundred percent physically healthy.
Emotionally.
Absolutely not.
A week later, the apartment felt… damp.
Ori opened the closet door to grab a jacket and froze.
Tamon was sitting inside, knees pulled to his chest, lights off, surrounded by an aura of despair so thick it might as well have been visible. The gloomshrooms were thriving.
“…He’s doing it again,” Ori said flatly.
Rintaro peeked over. “Oh… Closet Tamon.”
Natsuki groaned from the couch. “I knew it was too quiet.”
Keito pinched the bridge of his nose. “He is medically cleared.”
Tamon’s voice drifted out, hollow and dramatic. “I contribute nothing.”
Ori snapped, “YOU’RE AN IDOL.”
“I am replaceable,” Tamon replied softly.
Utage sighed, already rolling up her sleeves. “Alright. Out you come.”
She opened the door fully and crouched down. “Tamon.”
He looked up slowly, eyes damp, expression devastatingly gloomy. “What if everyone liked me better when I was sick.”
The room collectively groaned.
Keito muttered, “I’m logging this as post-illness emotional instability.”
Rintaro nodded seriously. “Very common in anime.”
Natsuki stood up. “I’ll make tea.”
Ori crossed his arms, scowling. “…You’re annoying.”
Tamon sniffed. “…You still came back.”
Ori clicked his tongue and looked away. “Shut up.”
Utage gently tugged Tamon out of the closet. “You’re not worthless. You’re just dramatic.”
Tamon leaned into her immediately, gloom aura cracking just a little, as the rest of them braced themselves for whatever phase this was going to be.