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Fyodor sat curled up on his futon, leaning against a pillow with the blinds opened slightly as he attempted to read a book and not be sick again. At the café a few days ago, someone had come in who was sick; nothing too horrible, just sneezing and coughing, and he was wearing a mask; Fyodor had attempted to be careful—he hadn't even served the guy, however somehow he'd still caught an illness.
As an anemic person, sickness could be devastating for him. Best case scenario he was out of commission for a few weeks, however the worst case was hospitalisation or even death. He had at least managed to get somewhat cozy in his room—he was curled up in his futon covered in blankets reading or on his phone or on Ranpo's Nintendo he'd said Fyodor could borrow while he was sick, but if he broke it he'd have to pay for a replacement—all while listening to classical music.
He had a bucket next to his bed that he could throw up in then pour into the toilet when he felt well enough to get up; it managed to make him calm down a little in not having to run to the bathroom whenever he felt sick. This was one of the first times being sick wasn't a terrible experience for him, the others being when he'd gotten sick whilst hanging out with Dazai and the other had insisted to take care of him.
He sat up slightly, leaning against his pillows and covered in blankets while he drew on a shitty art game Ranpo had installed for him saying "you like painting, right? It's practically the same thing!'. He heard a knock on his door, however since his mind was slow currently with fever, it took him a minute to even register it.
"Fyodor, can I come it?" Fukuzawa asked from the other side of the door—Fyodor paused for a second before turning off his music and answering.
"Okay," he replied, however his voice was horse and quieter then he'd intended. Either way, Fukuzawa heard him and opened the door, although he did it gently as to not hurt Fyodor's head more. He hadn't made Fyodor take his appetite pills today, so Fyodor assumed he just wouldn't be getting food, however when Fukuzawa walked in, he was holding a tray which Fyodor could only guess had his lunch on it.
"How are you feeling?" Fukuzawa asked, although Fyodor assumed he already knew the answer. He had been throwing his guts up all morning, of course he would be feeling horrible.
"Not the best," Fyodor replied simply.
"Do you feel up for any food?" Fukuzawa probed gently and Fyodor thought for a second; he was bad at eating when he was sick, but he might as well give it a go.
"Sure, I could try, I guess," Fyodor muttered in reply and Fukuzawa placed the tray next to him on the floor.
"I'll come back in about an hour to check on you, call or message me if you need anything before then, alright?" Fukuzawa assured as he walked to the door.
"Okay..." And with that, Fukuzawa left. Fyodor turned the music back on and grabbed the tray from his side. On it, there was his iron medication, a bowl of soup, a few slices of bread, and a bowl of fruit. It was fine, he was sure if he tried he could finish it all by the time Fukuzawa came back.
Fukuzawa had left two spoons, and Fyodor grabbed one then began to make work on the soup; well, it was more of a broth now he had a better look at it. It was still relatively warm, and he couldn't quite make out the flavour. Something between bone broth and vegetables, he thought, and it tasted faintly nostalgic.
He managed it easily, and somehow it actually ended up easing his nausea a significant amount. He ended up eating all of it, using the bread to soak up the broth; it was pretty mild, not over seasoned or anything, and he decided he'd ask for more when Fukuzawa came back.
He took his iron tablet after that, although he regretted it as they taste of the broth was immediately covered by the sickly metallic taste. He sighed and took a sip of the tea—Fukuzawa had used normal sweetener in it— Fyodor didn't mind, however that wasn't the way he usually preferred it.
He made quick work of the fruit and berries as well, and after he'd gotten some food in his system he felt a lot better, as well as the fact he knew throwing up would hurt a lot less now. He placed the tray back onto the floor and decided to try to sleep again, closing his eyes with his music playing and drifting very quickly to sleep.
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Fukuzawa was staying off to take care of Fyodor. It wasn't even particularly because Fyodor wasn't allowed to be alone—Fukuzawa doubted he could run away with the state he was in—but it was to take care of him.
Sickness was extremely dangerous for Fyodor. Even if he were to make food for him and leave it in the kitchen, Fyodor would most likely stay in bed and not even consider going down to eat any of it. He needed to make sure Fyodor was comfortable and not passed out in his own vomit when he came back, so for that reason, he stayed home.
Fukuzawa was ironing his clothes when he felt a sharp pain at his ankle. He looked down furrowing his brow only to see that pesky little black kitten biting him, meowing as loud as it's little vocal cords could manage.
Fukuzawa sighed; about two weeks ago, he'd taken Fyodor to an animal adoption centre to find a new cat that could be his responsibility. There had been a lot of them, all of different ages, and Fukuzawa assumed Fyodor might decide to get a fully grown one so it'd be easier to take care of.
Well, his assumptions went out the window when he walked over to the cage Fyodor was staring at. Inside, a scruffy black kitten clawing at the glass — it was an ugly thing, fur in patches, face dirty, scabs from over grooming— and yet Fyodor seemed dead set on this kitten.
The workers warned him extensively that the cat he was getting was very anxious. She was terrified of a lot of things, and was sent back to them after only a week because she was too violent with the previous owners newborn and they just couldn't take care of her anymore. Fyodor had immediately agreed, and also picked out a good few cat toys from the shop for her.
He named her Koshka, which Fukuzawa had found to be pretty unoriginal as Fyodor explained it literally just meant female cat in Russian. Fukuzawa had worried at first, he didn't know how well Fyodor would take care of this cat after all, however he took his job very seriously.
Every morning and night, Fyodor prepared her food. Instead of using simple food, he picked out meat and such that would benefit her health; only in mid day would she eat store cat food, which was from the automatic feeder. Fukuzawa found his effort to take care of this kitten more than helpful, as it was also something he could use to show the government he was improving.
He didn't particularly worry the other cat's would be jealous of this new kitten's diet, because when they were both kittens, he had tried them on home-made cat food and they'd had none of it— his mistake had been trying it after already having them on store food before trying it. Fyodor's cat, however, seemed to be having the time of her life.
He bent down and picked the scruffy kitten up— she didn't particularly seem to mind— grabbed the thermometer off the table, and took them to Fyodor's room. It was about the time he should check back on him anyway, and he hoped that Fyodor had managed the food given, even without his appetite pills.
The only reason he hadn't given them to him was because he was sure it'd be cruel to forse Fyodor to be hungry if he was too sick to eat. He knew it'd benefit him too eat, however he wouldn't make him, he just decided he'd leave him food and see how it went.
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Fyodor heard another knock on his door— ah... Was it that time already? he thought to himself. He called for Fukuzawa to come in and the door opened. Fukuzawa was holding a thermometer, and also his cat, which he placed on Fyodor's chest after he came in.
Fyodor smiled, petting the kitten as it kneaded into his chest, "Fyodor, I need to take your temperature," Fukuzawa said as he handed Fyodor the thermometer, and Fyodor placed it under his tongue without comment.
He closed his eyes until it beeped. This obnoxious, high-pitched sound which just ate at his migraine more and made him groan as he handed it to Fukuzawa and turned his head away. Fukuzawa apologised for the noise and checked the temperature on it.
it was 41°C, well over what was safe for someone like Fyodor, "I really should take you to the hospital..." Fukuzawa muttered, looking at the thermometer with a furrowed brow.
"No..." Fyodor whined, but his voice was weak and thin, so he doubted Fukuzawa even heard it.
"Listen. If it gets worse, I'll have to take you, but for now you can stay home," Fukuzawa warned. He was aware of how much Fyodor disliked hospitals, however if he tried to make him go, Fyodor supposed he could fake trauma from the government checkups to get out of it.
He pet Koshka's scruffy black fur, smiling as she rubbed onto his hand — she purred loudly and began to curl up on top of his blankets. Fukuzawa stood for a few minutes observing before walking out, closing the door gently.
Fyodor closed his eyes again, trying to relax and rest some more; with his fevered state, it was comically easy to stop thinking, and he actually saw this as a pretty nice rest day. He felt his consciousness slipping away like sand, his brain melting and leaking out of him leaving nothing but content haziness.
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His dream lacked the same comfort.
He was in the bathroom of bar, washing his hands in the sink desperately. The noise from the main bar was loud; laughing, yelling; however it was all muffled by the ringing in his ears.
The blood wasn't coming off, no matter how hard he scrubbed, no matter how much pooled in the sink, his hands were still dirty. With every passing second, the noise from the bar grew louder, and he felt his heart racing as he sensed eyes drilling onto his back.
He turned away from his hands for a minute to look around him, and it seemed as though everyone from the main bar had all migrated to where he was. Now they were starting at him, judging him. Shadowed figures with no distinguished attributes except for eyes, staring at him and yelling at him and laughing.
"What's the point? Thousands of years for what?" A voice yelled at him and he flinched from the sudden noise.
"To cause suffering? kill the innocent? What's happened to you?" Said his late sister—the one who had died when he was three.
"You used to be such a sweet boy, what changed?" Said the pastor from his church, who always used to send him away from service with snacks and treats.
He couldn't keep track of the voices, the lights, the figures blocking him in so he couldn't run as they all took faces of those he used to love wh n he was young. He felt tears pool from in his eyes and he couldn't help but sob, he didn't know what was happening. He looked back to his hands but the blood was from somewhere else now, pooling from the skin now pealing off of his hands.
He fell to his knees, curling in on himself and crying loudly as the figures moved in close. He begged them to stop, however the noise continued and they started grabbing him. He was suffocating, unable to breathe as he called for someone to help. Why wouldn't anyone help—
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Everything disappeared. He disappeared. He was floating through an open void, he felt as though he was gas, and perhaps he was. He felt utterly at peace, no body, no thoughts, no skin or bones or muscles to weigh him down.
He had to have been there for years—decade— centuries. Floating through this dark void, becoming one with it as he lost sence of everything. He suddenly heard a voice shouting his name.
He floated towards the panicked, terrified voice and it grew more vivid.
"Fyodor... Fyodor..."
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"Fyodor! Wake up, hey!" His eyes opened wide as he heard Fukuzawa shouting his name, the lights and noise was too much for his brain, and another migraine quickly surfaced.
"Thank god... Fyodor, your pulse stopped for a few minutes... You need to go to the hospital," Fukuzawa explained, panic still lining his voice despite the calm persona he was playing.
"N-no... No hospital... I'm okay..." He muttered, pushing Fukuzawa away and curling in on himself.
"Fyodor. You're disoriented, you have a fever, and a second ago you just died. We need to go to the hospital now," Fukuzawa stated, standing up.
Ah, so he would have to manipulate. It'd be easy anyway, that dream had been horrible enough to make him upset so all he had to do was remember it and he could start crying. His only issue was trying to act upset without acting disoriented in the process; because as Fukuzawa had never seen him upset, he'd just take it as more of a sign to take him to the hospital.
Perhaps if he got angry Fukuzawa would leave it? It was to risky to try, however he knew he was not going to the hospital. Maybe he should try not faking anything yet, just maybe act a little more pitiful.
"I don't want to go to the hospital... Let me stay home.." he pleaded, curling further into the mess of blankets. Refering to Fukuzawa's house as 'home' was not even particularly something he did on purpose, however it surely made Fukuzawa feel more bad for him.
The older man let out a sigh and thought for a minute, "I'll come check on you in ten minutes. If nothing had improved, we're going," Fukuzawa compromised, clearly torn between Fyodor's comfort or health.
"Okay..." Fyodor muttered as he closed his eyes again, content that Fukuzawa hadn't forced him to go yet despite Fyodor having actually died a few minutes ago.
Fyodor turned the music back on— Fukuzawa must've turned it off when checking in on him — and just tried to rest more. He remembered he'd forgotten to ask for more broth and felt faint disappoint, it didn't linger particularly long, however. He was just about to fall back asleep when his phone rang.
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Dazai was somewhat annoyed with Fyodor. He knew the other was sick and all, but surely he'd answer at least one call out of the 27 missed ones. He was dialing one more time before he gave up for a while.
"Hello..?" Came a horse voice from the other line and Dazai startled from where he was sitting in the break room at just how sick the other sounded.
"Hiii Fyodor! You didn't answer my calls until now, how are you feeling?" He asked, obnoxious happy on purpose.
"Not particularly well. I died a few minutes ago according to Fukuzawa," Fyodor answered dryly.
"Oh shit... Wait, how??" Dazai questioned, very confused.
"I don't know... I feel horrible right now, I'm so unwell..." He rasped, and Dazai could hear the exhaustion in his voice.
Dazai stayed quiet for a few seconds. Surely Fukuzawa would've taken him to the hospital by now, however he couldn't hear much noise around him, "are you not at the hospital?"
"Nyet... No, I'm not going to the hospital..." Fyodor replied and Dazai was pretty surprised.
"Fukuzawa hasn't forced you yet? You said you're heart stopped a few minutes ago, did he not take you then?" Surely Fukuzawa would've made him go, even if he said no.
"He said if I've not improved at all later he'll take me, but I'll just say I'm scared because the government like, mistreated me or something and he'll probably take pity on me and let me stay home..." Fyodor murmured, seemingly not too sick to manipulate.
"Smart. Do you want me to come over later to hang out?" He asked, hoping Fyodor agreed. He'd only ever seen fyodor sick like twice, and both of those times he'd taken him home to make sure he didn't pass out in an alley and die or get taken advantage of.
"Okay..." Fyodor agreed simply, clearly dosing off already. Dazai could hear his phone thump onto his futon.
"Fyodor? Helloooo," dang, he must've fallen asleep. Well, Kunikida would probably have a go at him if he was on the phone any longer, so maybe it was for the best. He hung up the call and wandered back to his desk so he could "work".
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When Fyodor woke up again, his muscles were stiff. He checked the time on his phone— 4:45pm— and sighed. He looked next to him and saw a tray with more food as well as a note, 'I've gone to pick up Ranpo and Dazai, I should be back soon but call me if you need anything'.
Fyodor struggled to read it, his Japanese struggled to come through, but he managed in the end. He looked at the food and sighed remembering again how he'd forgotten to ask for more of that broth. Well, he had noodles now, mixed in with garlic, chicken and other vegetables Fyodor couldn't identify just from looking at.
Next to it on the tray was some ice-cream in a thermal tub, cookie dough flavoured. Fyodor smiled, knowing he'd enjoy it. He did actually feel a bit better now, and the thought that he might actually be fine in only a few days made him smile.
He put his hands together and prayed quickly. In his branch of Christianity, he was supposed to stand up in prayer, however because of his fragile state, he'd always sat down during it. He simply thanked God for providing him with the food then for the miracle of him not dying forever a few hours ago because he'd completely forgotten until now, that fever is really messing with my memory too, huh?
Fukuzawa had provided him with a spoon and a fork, knowing Fyodor would struggle too much with chopsticks in his current state. He began to eat the noodles and closed his eyes in bliss. He didn't feel sick right now and the flavour was really good, he had to admit, Fukuzawa's cooking was genuinely amazing. Perhaps the older man should ditch the agency and become a private chef, he surely wouldn't be out of business while Fyodor was around.
He ate it slowly as to savour the taste and not make himself sick— sitting propped against pillows as he tried to just relax. He could taste medicine in the food, meaning fukuzawa had crushed it up into it, and Fyodor thought that was extremely risky being as if Fyodor didn't finish it all, Fukuzawa wouldn't know how much he'd taken.
Lucky for Fukuzawa, he did eat it all, so there was no need to worry. He grabbed the ice cream and also ate that, although quicker then he'd eaten the noodles. He'd been wanting something sweet all day, and Fukuzawa's judgment on how ripe fruit was was a lot worse then his cooking, so he was overjoyed to finally get something that eased his craving.
He put the tray back and ley down, trying to get some sleep. He thought briefly, if my life were a book, people would surely skip this page. Who would want to read about me doing nothing all day? however then he realised just how obscured that thought was and chuckled to himself. Surely if he was in a book, the author would skip over a simple day where he was sick.
He closed his eyes and dissociated until he heard the front door open and people talking. The voices faded as two people walked up stairs. One of the sets of footsteps walk down the hall, and the other stopped outside of his door.
The door creeped open, and Dazai wandered in, "Hiii Fyodor~ You look horrible, damn," he commented as he walked up to him, crouching down to be more level with him.
"Ah, I couldn't tell. If you haven't already guessed, I feel horrible as well," Fyodor snapped back, although it sounded pathetic with his grainy sick voice.
"you're accent is so thick when you're unwell," Dazai said absentmindedly before making space on the futon to sit next to Fyodor, "oh yeah! Fukuzawa said to give you this," he exclaimed as he handed Fyodor his melatonin.
Fyodor ate it happily, the government had agreed to let him change from pills to gummies— although he didn't doubt Fukuzawa would let him change even if the the government said no— and they were pretty tasty. He wasn't even sure if he needed it, but he didn't particularly care, "you're so pathetic right now..." Dazai muttered absentmindedly as he brushed Fyodor's hair away from his face.
Fyodor closed his eyes, relaxing under the touch. In any other situation, he would've slapped Dazai's hand away in disgust, however he was sick, and Dazai playing with his hair was comforting more then anything else that could happen to him today.
He was almost back asleep when he felt Dazai's hand go to his face and suddenly clamp over his mouth, the other pinching his nose. His eyes snapped open however there was no point in trying to fight it, anemia and sickness made sure of that, so he just closed his eyes again, unable to breathe. Of course Dazai decided to be cruel right now, it was just in his nature.
Dazai pulled his hands back and sighed, "wow, you really are sick..." Ah, another great observation, Fyodor thought as he curled onto his side facing away from Dazai, "not in the mood for chess then?" Dazai asked, clearly planning it to be rhetorical because Fyodor was always up for chess, however Fyodor just shook his head.
"Shit... You know, I'm starting to think you should've gone to the hospital after all," Dazai said as he stood up, "well, I'm gonna go get something to eat. I'll be back in an hour," and with that, Dazai was gone again, and Fyodor passed out soon after.
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Fyodor woke up again not in his bed. He felt water sloshing around him following by the lack of clothing he had on. When he looked up, he saw Dazai looking down at him holding a bottle of shampoo which he the opened and lathered onto his hand.
Fyodor closed his eyes again as Dazai rubbed it into his hair, the sensation of it lulling him into a serine headspace. The change in position was extremely nice and helped elevate a lot of the discomfort he'd felt earlier from lying in his futon all day.
Dazai washed out the shampoo with the small shower head then proceeded to repeat the process with conditioner. Fyodor didn't know if Dazai had noticed he was awake, but if so he was pretending not too. Fyodor didn't mind either way, he wasn't particularly embarrassed or anything, he just wanted to rest.
After a little, Dazai picked him up and took him out of the bath, Fyodor was unable to stand even if he wanted to, however Dazai supported all of his weight as he dried him with a towel. He dressed him in his underwear and clean sleep shorts then picked him back up and carried him to his futon where his kitten was waiting.
Fyodor felt slightly uncomfortable at his still damp hair on the pillow, however it was quickly forgotten when Dazai climbed under the blankets with him. He pulled Fyodor's back to him, spooning him, the cat snuggled into his arms, and Fyodor felt the most comfort he had in years.
Dazai muttered something unintelligible as he dozed off, eventually ending up drooling into Fyodor's shoulder. Fyodor could feel his melatonin kicking in, and it put him in a hazy state of bliss that he wished to stay in, however sleep was pulling at him.
He suddenly felt a deep discomfort. He'd been to the bathroom only about 5 times today, and he now wished he'd gone before Dazai had came because now he had to go. He sighed as he dislodged himself from Dazai and Koshka, standing up and walking to the bathroom, trying to be as quiet as possible as to not elert Dazai.
He managed to stay silent until he had to flush the toilet, which was loud enough that when he stepped out, Dazai was sitting up staring at him. It looked creepy for a minute, however he just walked back and curled into bed.
"... Are you feeling better...?" Dazai asked, his voice heavy from sleeping. Fyodor thought for a minute; he didn't even feel sick anymore; he knew he never really rested when he was sick normally, however he was sure he'd recovered quicker then usual, he'd only been sick for a day and he already get better.
"I suppose so... Yes." He muttered in reply as Dazai pulled him back into his chest and the cat resumed her position. The other seemed content with that answer, humming to show he heard Fyodor.
"Night Fyodor..." Dazai said, already drifting off.
"Goodnight Dazai..." Fyodor replied as he too drifted into sleep. He knew in the morning, he would have to act annoyed that Dazai had cuddled him, however for now, he let himself enjoy it.
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Dazai woke up to Fyodor twitching in his sleep— he was whining under his breath and his facial expression was contorted in deep discomfort. Dazai was no stranger to Fyodor's night terrors; he knew how occasionally Fyodor didn't even want to fall asleep for fear of his dreams, however when Dazai said perhaps he should go to the doctor about it, the other immediately shut him down, saying it was simply a dream and that he’d get over it.
He sat up and watched Fyodor for a few seconds more. He couldn't help but smile at Fyodor's discomfort, even though Fyodor was apart of the ADA now, he still wished to see him in pain. He supposed it'd be cruel to keep him in his dream any longer, so instead he opted to slap him awake.
Fyodor flinched as he woke up, disoriented for a few seconds as he somewhat franticly spoke in Russian before noticing his surroundings and calming down exponentially. "Bad dream, huh?" Dazai asked, and Fyodor simply nodded, noticing the absence of the kitten which had most likely fled due to his discomforted twitching.
"I don't think I can fall back asleep..." Fyodor muttered as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, “I’ve slept far too much today.”
"We could go down to the living room and watch a movie if you want," Dazai offered, he was quite board himself to be fair.
Fyodor looked thoughtful for a moment before responding, "okay... Can I pick?"
"Sure, why not," he agreed as he stood and stretched. Fyodor following suit before they both went down. Fyodor made sure to bring a lot of blankets with him, he got cold to easily so he had to make sure he didn't freeze down there.
Once downstairs, they assumed position on the couch. Dazai leaned back against the arm rest while Fyodor lay on his side atop him, and Fyodor used the remote to put on one of his old Russian movies that Dazai had to admit were pretty interesting from what he'd caught on subtitles.
They stayed comfortable like that for a while, chatting idly as Fyodor fought sleep. At about the halfway mark on the film, they heard someone coming downstairs.
"Wow, finally out of hiding?" Came Ranpo's voice from the bottom of the stairs as he walked into the living room and made himself comfortable on the couch next to them, stretching his legs.
"Hi Ranpo-san," Dazai greeted as he looked over to the other.
"Are you two dating yet?" Ranpo asked suddenly and Dazai laughed out loud.
"Nah, I wouldn't say so," he answered, "Fyo's too religious anyway."
"Ah alright. Whatcha watching?"
"No clue, just something Fyodor put on. Are you still alive?" He asked, being as he hadn't heard Fyodor say anything in about an hour. There was no reply, "guess not," he muttered. Fyodor had probably fallen asleep already, “well, so much for having slept too much,” he muttered under his breath.
Conversation flowed for a few minutes before it drifted off into a comfortable silence. They both also fell asleep soon after, the background noise of the movie managing to lull them into rest.
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Fukuzawa went downstairs at 1:36 am to make sure all the windows were locked. He quietly creeped down the stairs, however stopped when he saw the scene on the couch.
Ranpo and Dazai were sitting on each side of the couch passed out whilst Fyodor lay between them both, his head in Dazai's lap as a movie played on in the background. He walked towards them and looked at the serine experience on each of their faces.
He tucked the blankets around all of them and stared for another few seconds, a small smile creeping in on him as he looked at his kids worker's all sleeping peacefully. And as he went off to bed himself, he found himself lingering on the thought that Fyodor truly was just a human.