Chapter Text
He figured he couldn’t get sick. Not in the traditional sense, at least. Not in the way Asako and Yoshiki, or Maki, or Hikaru’s mama could. Maybe in the freaky, supernatural way he was accustomed to being, but not with the symptoms so…human-like. A common cold shouldn’t have excited him the way it did. It was a nuisance to deal with, sure. What made him ecstatic to be bed prone, was the thought that his ailment had affected humans countless times before. In fact, this thing was considered ‘normal’. The Hikaru before him had vague memories of being bundled under layers of blankets, unable to move an inch with the ache in his bones. A dreadful heat had washed through his veins. Yet despite the terrible affliction, this ‘Hikaru’ remembered comfort.
The memories would never compare to the true experience. There was pure joy in being able to skip school, a feat usually accomplished by ‘sneaking out’. He didn’t need to feel guilty anymore. Mama’s hand had rested against his forehead for less than a second. She’d muttered a few words of concern, all muffled by his increasing disorientation, before phoning the teacher.
Popsicles were given in the hopes of curing his fever. The only downside to this new feeling was the inability to breathe. It wasn’t as though he needed to breathe, more so that it was uncomfortable when he couldn’t. His chest would begin to smart and he’d painfully gulp in a wheeze through his mouth. Plus, mouth breathing tasted funny.
He wondered, through the haze of reading a book, if humans were always susceptible to getting sick.
Perhaps it was his gift to Yoshiki…that allowed him to catch this virus.
Hikaru turned onto his side, tucking his feet back into the blanket. The manga volume was abandoned somewhere in sheets.
That was a silly thought. If Yoshiki was ever going to trust him, he needed to understand what it felt like to be mortal. He didn’t think he’d ever ‘fear’ death the way a person could, but he would try his best to understand why. If the sickness was part of that process, then so be it. For now, he was cozy and allowed to read comic books all day. Surely it wasn’t that bad?
He was busy plotting his next move, thinking about digging up the more popsicles from the back of the freezer, when he decided to rest his eyes for a moment. The peaceful oblivion took him quickly…
He could hear the muffled sounds of someone entering his bedroom. He felt their breath when they kneeled down in front of him, felt them set down an object on the floor.
“‘Hikaru’?”
He didn’t open his eyes. If he pretended to sleep, maybe they’d go away…
“I brought you some soup.”
He recognized that voice. Hikaru sat up, yawning. The cold weighed on his shoulders, and he had a tense pounding in his left temple. Yoshiki felt his forehead.
“What kind?” He asked, leaning his head on the other boy. Looking up, he saw a concerned expression plastered across Yoshiki's face. “What? I ain’t dyin’...” The black haired boy looked away, those bangs concealing his worried gaze.
“You’re burnin’ up…” Yoshiki mumbled. “All this heat can’t be good for ya’.” He really was scared for him. ‘Hikaru’ wasn’t sure how that made him feel. There was happiness in that emotion, true, but also a mix of another thing. It would be better if it was just one singular sensation he could pick out from his brain. Of course being human had to be complicated in that way. Words were just boxes used to label feelings even humans couldn’t understand. So,‘Hikaru’ chose the one that fit the best.
Vulnerable.
“Besides,” Yoshiki continued. ‘Hikaru’ noticed how much he’d slumped against the other boy’s shirt. “I thought you were immune to that type of stuff.”
“Me too, ‘till I woke up with the sniffles.” He sneezed, prompting Yoshiki to ruffle his head.
“Do that in your arm or you’ll give me a cold, too.” Once the dreadful punishment was over, ‘Hikaru’ flopped back onto his futon, reaching for the bowl that laid down beside him.
“S’really sweet how ya brought the soup an’ all.”
Yoshiki nodded, resting a hand on his chin.
“My mom used to make soup for Hikaru when he got sick…”
The statement conjured an image in his mind. There was a small, warm cup in his palms, drifting up steam while the noises of super smash bros played next to him.
“Oh yeah!” He exclaimed, delighted at the similarity. “You used to come over and we’d play video games.” He beamed, expecting Yoshiki to do the same. The other boy just shifted, his gaze lingering on the floor.
That’s right.
That had been the true Hikaru in those memories. A pang of guilt flashed through it. Should it feel nostalgia for a time where it was still a concept?
Though, what was the difference? Those memories now belonged to him.
“Sorry…” ‘Hikaru’ mumbled. It lifted the bowl to drink, barely flinching at the scorching heat on its tongue.
“You don’t gotta apologize…” Yoshiki wandered over to where he knew the video games were kept, slipping one off the shelf. ‘Hikaru’ wanted to sink in that validation forever. He let those words wrap around him, reassuring he’d done nothing wrong. “You don’t think,” Yoshiki started, “that because of what you gave me, you’re gonna be more sick..?” The boy put a hand to his head in distress. “Because if that’s true, then you can have it back.”
'Hikaru' shot up, pausing while the room oriented itself once more. Yoshiki’s outline was still slightly blurred, but dizziness was manageable.
“Nah,” He said after a while. “This is nothin’. I’ll recover in a few days..” Dammit, there Yoshiki went again with that sad look. ‘Hikaru’ grinned. “On second thoughts, I’m probably dying.”
Yoshiki plugged the game into ‘Hikaru’s’ switch.
“More like you’re a reanimated corpse.” He handed ‘Hikaru’ a controller, exchanging it for the now empty bowl of soup. “You look like a zombie…”
“Then why're you still around me if I’ll eat your brains?” ‘Hikaru’ desperately wanted to know the answer, to know why Yoshiki would willingly walk beside it, to talk to it, to bring it soup and treat it like the friend he once knew. And then, when that failed, befriend it anyway.
A faint noise of the game starting up reached ‘Hikaru's’ ears.
“Zombies can get lonely, too.”