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How could he get himself into this situation? What are the chances the fates decided he would end up trapped here, in his own personal hell.
"Achoo!"
"Shut uP," Natsume snaps, not turning from the window. From the view of his freedom. Where the air is clean and the sun shines and people mill about.
"Ah yes, apologies for sneezing from the illness you gave me." Its weak, especially considering how much bite should be behind it. Trapped in here to ensure no other idols get sick, Natsume cannot even begin to detail every which way being stuck in a room with Eichi Tenshouin is horrendous.
"You should be, EmperOR." He sniffles indignantly and snatches a tissue. None of his or his unit mate's spells worked at all, only the potions helped ease his aching throat. Sipping at the hot honey tea, he nuzzles deeper into the blanket ball.
"You have no right to be mad at me..."
"Oh trusT me, I have every riGHT." He turns to offer a scathing glare, red nose and all, only to find that he looks... pathetic. As if on the verge of tears. What the hell?
"...I know. You're right." Eyes widening, on impulse he scans the medical devices to check on various vital signs. Everything is scattered well above normal, but the spiking fever and struggle to catch his breath are particularly worrisome. His scowl returns. Eichi could die and it would make the world a better place. So why is he so concerned?
"Hmph," Natsume turns away again and glares at the seam in the window. If Eichi dies here no one would believe it was an accident or mere illness. He would be taken down as an accomplice to this virus. Groaning, he nabs the kettle and begins fixing another cup.
"Sakasaki..."
"I said shuT UP." He doesn't have the will to argue and just watches quietly, breath laboring even in stasis. He mixes it with a little more than honey, throwing in some ginger and a dash of cinnamon in an effort to combat some of the rampaging symptoms. While he may be uncomfortably ill, this could technically take the Emperor down. The witch sighs as he stares as the honey homogenizes within the liquid. Of course it's at the worst possible time.
Sulkily, he places the tea cup nearby. Pale eyes open once more to meet his, face flush from fever and that usually crystalline gaze quite unfocused. He’s almost unrecognizable. “Drink iT,” Natsume demands and shoves the cup closer, “It might heLP.”
Yet he doesn’t look away. It's as if a thousand years of regret live behind those sad red rimmed eyes and not the ruthless warlord he is accustomed to. It's pathetic.
“I’m sorry…” Natsume flinches and Eichi takes the hesitation and rambles, “You… you deserve it. To win. To take it all. You were all more talented but-” hacking and nearly retching, the witch finally begins to panic.
“Look I said to shUT up okaY?! Just-” He grabs the bucket and pulls it closer, then stumbles to the freezer. The monitor flashes red as his temperature spikes to 104 as he returns and practically drops the ice pack onto his forehead. Eichi whimpers in agony as the chill seeps through the fever.
“I stole it all- the book, the fire… we took it and ran. But you know that of course you know that.” Delirious and obviously tipping towards danger, Natsume calls out for help.
“Hasumi? MastER?! Hello?!”
“You’re brilliant Natsume-” hands grip at his shirt desperately, “-don’t you realize that?” coughing all over him, he sneers and tries to pull away but the bastard holds on. Lifting slightly out of the bed, Eichi shakes violently before he has to physically hold him down with the ice.
“Stop iT! You are useless likE thIS and you know iT. Just drink the tea anD-”
Crystalline tears tumble down his face and Natsume actually goes slack jawed.
“No, please, don’t…” yanking him weakly, “Don’t… go wait…” he stumbles over his words as sweat and ice water trickle down the side of his face. “It was rigged from the start.”
“Stop actiNG as if I am some fOOL-!”
“I made Tsumugi do it.” Desperation is written all over his face, “I used him. Played him-” cough, “-played him like a violin.” Dread sits low in his stomach as the Emperor rambles. “There needed to be change… the school was shutting down, we were losing sponsorships… the idols, the idols they all would be eradicated in one fell swoop…” his arms finally give out and he collapses onto the bed. The sheets have rumpled entirely, sweat clings to every inch of his body, reminding him just how fragile this once seemingly immortal being is.
“...what did you caRE? You had everythinG.” Natsume rises to Eichi’s despair, but simply rotates out for another ice pack.
“Not anything… nothing… but the idols… but the music…” Chilling him to his core, he places the ice pack back on his head and holds it there. Bliss radiates from his being, “And now you! The idols, they’ll always save me, I’m certain.” The coughing fit doesn’t pass as quickly so Natsume turns him to his side unceremoniously, holding him there while he tries to recover.
Breathless, “It's why I did it… to kill you, to take you out as a martyr, as a hero…” Fingers loosen their hold and Natsume wishes so deeply to just drop him. “...it was you after all, wasn’t it? That saved us.” Popping crackles sound instead of a laugh, making his teeth sting.
“You’re delusioNAL, TenshouiN. Per the usual.” Natsume is so tired of this game, things were going well for everyone and they were ignoring each other fine.
“You are everything I want to be…” trembling fingers touch his arm, watching them trail. “Everything I can’t have…” He’s still so warm, but at least he’s not getting worse. Scoffing weakly, Natsume shakes his head. Nails dig into his arm and his eyes shoot back up, “You are.”
He swallows nervously, “EnouGH of this foolishneSS, Emperor. You cannoT manipulate mE anymoRE.” The ache in his body is returning and his throat hurts so badly, all Natsume wants to do is sleep. “ResT noW, alloW yourseLF to hEAL…” he puts as much charm and power into the words that he can but he feels so miserable.
“Talent, skill, friends, willpower and your body…” Eichi pulls himself up with great effort, heart monitor off the charts, “So much health and time… so much luck and good fortune.” Natsume pushes him back as the ice pack falls out of his hand, tea falling and shattering brilliantly. “Everything I don’t have.” There is anger now, the pathetic whimpering replaced with… pathetic rage.
Natsume shoves him, his frail body easily collapsing back to the bed. Leaning over him Natsume grumbles, “You tooK it all from mE. Thief and liaR.” His fingers clench into the silk pajamas, baby blue of course. He hates Eichi so much…! “People diED because of YOU!” The anger deflates, that regret blossoming so clearly on his face.
“Yes…” he slumps in Natsume’s grip, but he holds firm, “Which is why… I will welcome my place in hell…” The bastard has the audacity to nuzzle against his arm?! What the hell?? As if burned, Natsume releases him and stumbles back. Weepy once more, “Don’t go Natsume, come back…! Please..!” How pitiful. Natsume shivers as a lower grade fever courses through him. How dare he call him so casually…
“YoU are foul, emperOR. A monster.” He cleans the tea up, what a waste, and returns with ice and more medicine.
“Then finish it.”
Whipping around, nearly dropping everything, he stares at the Emperor, not a single comedic line on his face. “You’d be doing us all a favor…”
Natsume simply shakes his head, “You don’t gET off that easilY.” He looks at the syringe cautiously, ensuring he can do this without fucking it up. Then simply fills the line, “Not yET.”
Snagging the hem of his shirt, Eichi tugs him close again, “Please…” his voice is so quiet now as fatigue threatens him. It's slowing down his heart rate but the fever remains solid. Natsume grimaces and leans down to him. “Please… don’t ever quit…” Slowly meeting his eyes, Eichi smiles up. It's the realest smile he has ever seen from the man. “Share your magic…” as if in a final effort to make things weirder, Eichi tugs just hard enough to get some leverage, barely brushing a kiss onto his cheek before collapsing in a crumpled heap. His breath is shallow but steady. Fever down to 102 and hopefully sinking. Natsume stumbles away from his bed and into his own.
No one comes for a few more hours, Natsume laying there on his side, studying the emperor with growing curiosity, replaying each word in his head. Perhaps delirium was finally starting to set in for him as well as inspiration sparks to life in his chest once more. Face warm and head spinning, the witch closes his eyes and tries to sort out the new tangle in his brain.