Chapter Text
Kita is sick. Like really, really sick. The kind of sick that makes you want to just be able to drift off to sleep and not wake up.
Each movement she tried to make caused her head to spin, each breath she took caused her stomach to roll, and each time she swallowed, her saliva felt like lava in her throat.
She’s not quite sure where she picked it up from, but when she woke up this morning, it just felt like a minor cold. “I’ll be fine, so don’t worry about staying home.” She had told her parents before she went back to bed, but sleep never took her back into its warm embrace.
Instead, every minute that passed, her condition worsened. Her temperature, which when she woke up sat just above normal, skyrocketed. She found it odd, but took some medicine and tried to go back to bed.
But not even an hour later, she threw up the meagre breakfast she had scrambled together when she had woken up. After that incident, she decided to call the manager and tell her she probably wouldn’t make it to work today, much to her worry.
Kita read the worried message the manager had sent her with amusement despite the pounding headache that drilled itself through her skull. She scrolled through her phone in a futile attempt to distract herself from her ailment, having to turn it off after a couple minutes due to her headache growing worse.
She lay in her bed miserably for hours, tossing and turning in a pool of sweat as she tried to fall back to sleep. Occasionally, she would have to pull herself to her feet and scramble to her bathroom to dry heave; any solids in her stomach had long since been purged.
In her haze of delusion, Kita could faintly make out the sound of knocking coming from her door. She weakly groaned, the hum of her voice feeling like blades in her throat as she flopped over in her bed, praying that whoever it was would leave.
Unfortunately, whoever it was was persistent. She could hear more knocking as she let out a miserable sob and tried to get out of her bed.
The mere act of twisting her body to sit up felt impossible. Her palms dug into her sheets as she swung her legs over the side of her bed, and tried to stand, before immediately collapsing back onto her bed.
Her knees shook from the effort as she slumped back down, her back crying in joy as it no longer had to hold her up.
She reached for a pillow as the knocking continued again, her elbow aching from the strain of just having to reach out. She let it drop onto her face, not bothering to lift her head as she weakly pressed it against her ears in an attempt to muffle the knocking. It blocked her already limited airflow. Her head spun, a feeling of vertigo overcoming her as she wheezed under the pillowcase.
Knocking. But different this time. It was on a more hollow surface, thinner, maybe a weaker material—inside the house.
“K-Kita-chan, are you alright?” Was that Hitori? She leaned her head to the side to try to get more air from under the pillow.
“I-I’m coming in.” Kita tossed the pillow away from her with her shaky arms, her sickness inhibiting her already feeble strength, “K-Kita-chan?!”
Through her blurred vision, Kita could vaguely make out the pink form approaching her, a hand gently pressed against her forehead before being pulled away with a hiss.
“Y-You’re burning up…” She could hear Hitori mutter as she moaned, missing the cool fingers against her burning skin, “I-I’m sorry for breaking in b-but you told me t-t-t-to use the spare key whenever.”
Ah, that’s right, she told Hitori where her parents kept the spare key in case of emergencies.
“S’fine.” Kita slurred as she shifted on her bed, moving nowhere despite the amount of effort it felt like it took.
“O-Okay… Um– I’m going to move you– Is that okay?” Hitori stuttered as she gently wiped sweat away from Kita’s forehead. She gave a weak nod before feeling Hitori’s hands slide under her and lift with surprising strength, moving her back to a proper position on the bed.
Once Kita felt her pillow back under her head, she let out a pleased sigh, before a cough rattled her chest. It didn’t stop easily; she had to lean up as she coughed, each one painfully ripping through her throat as Hitori’s hand pressed against her back, rubbing gentle circles into it.
She subconsciously leaned against the introvert as her coughs subsided, her warm body melting away the chills that had been shooting through her body, but not overheating her like the blankets she had been covered in.
Kita’s arms wrapped around Hitori, her fingers digging into her tracksuit as her head leaned against Hitori’s shoulder. If she were more conscious, she’d be embarrassed. As a matter of fact, when she wakes up later, she would be mortified at using the introvert as a pillow in her delirium.
“Wh–y’re y’here?” Kita’s broken voice grated against her ears, eyes clenched tight as she shoved her head into the crook of Hitori’s neck in an attempt to keep the light from agitating her head anymore.
“I-I called in sick.” Hitori’s voice weakly rang out from above her, “W-When I heard you were sick, I came as s-soon as possible.”
That was just so Hitori. That unwavering kindness. It was what Kita loved about the girl, among many other things.
Kita whimpered as she cuddled against Hitori, “Y-Y’didn’t have to–” Her voice was cut off by a dry cough; her throat was killing her.
“B-Breathe, Kita-chan.” Hitori muttered against Kita’s hair as she coughed, “I-It’ll be okay.” She comforted, pressing a hand against Kita’s back again.
Once her coughing fit ended, Kita gasped as she tried to catch her breath. God, she feels terrible for burdening Hitori like this.
“M’sorry.” Kita whimpered, “I-I…”
“It’s okay.” Hitori all but whispered, “I’ll make you some tea? A-And soup?”
She hadn’t realized how thirsty she was until Hitori mentioned it; her lips felt cracked and dry, each movement she made pulled at them uncomfortably, and her mouth was disgustingly dry.
“P-Please.” She nodded against Hitori’s neck, forehead bumping against it in a way that had to be uncomfortable for the girl.
“U-Um– Kita-chan?” She hummed as she shifted her head to Hitori’s shoulder, “I– You n-need to let me go.”
She should be embarrassed, but the feeling was something she couldn’t feel in her current state as she let go of the girl, dropping back against her bed. Kita missed the warmth immediately; her hands shifted around nothing, subconsciously searching for the girl.
“S-Sorry.” Hitori muttered before stepping out of the room. Kita whimpered as she was left in silence once more, missing the introvert’s presence in the room.
Kita faded in and out of consciousness as Hitori cooked, the smell of soup finding its way into her nose as she suffered, and before she knew it, Hitori was back.
“K-Kita-chan?” She gave a gentle knock before opening the door, soup and tea in hand. “I-I brought soup.”
Typically, she’d thank the girl, but right now she just settled with a weak whimper as she shifted in bed, her vision cleared up enough for her to make out the features of the girl.
Hitori set the food down silently, before stepping over to Kita. She stared up at the girl in silence for a moment before realizing she was planning to help her sit up.
When Hitori’s hand snaked its way under her and pressed her damp shirt into her back, Kita realized how disgusting she must have looked.
“Hitori-chan?” Her voice caught Hitori’s attention despite how weak it was, “W-Why?”
Hitori let out a small hum as she helped Kita lie against the headboard, “W-When Futari was little sh-she got really sick a-and had to go to the hospital.” Kita hung onto every word despite the haze shrouding her thoughts, “I-It was bad. I g-guess it just stuck with me.”
Kita looked at Hitori’s faraway gaze, before settling with gently setting a hand on her wrist, a weak squeeze followed it, snapping Hitori from her mind.
“A-Ah, sorry.” Hitori apologized for no reason at all, “H-Here,” She handed Kita a cup of tea, which she drank immediately, its warmth soothing the wrath of her throat.
“S-Slow!” Hitori yelped as Kita tried to tilt the cup back, the instinct of quenching her thirst overtaking reason, “Y-You’ll get sick if you drink too fast.”
Kita didn’t bother trying to say anything before she continued sipping at her tea, but then an ache in her stomach made her remember the soup. Setting the cup down was a pain; her shaking hands made it nearly impossible not to spill anything before Hitori took the cup, setting it down herself.
“Thank you.” Kita croaked, her voice sounding closer to normal than earlier but still raspy. She gently picked up a spoon for her soup, and slowly took spoonful by spoonful under Hitori’s watchful gaze.
The girl was an amazing cook. Or she was biased, because she’s sure she recognized this as a canned soup that she’s had many times before. Probably biased, because this was the best soup she’s ever had, just because Hitori made it.
“I-I can’t eat anymore.” Kita sighed as she set her spoon down. She got about halfway through the bowl before her stomach decided to make its grievances known, but she wouldn’t throw up… probably.
“O-Okay, that’s fine.” Hitori said, gently taking the bowl back from her and setting it down, “You sh-should lie back down, um– only if you want to, though.”
“I’d like to lie back down.” Kita gave the girl an appreciative smile as she shifted in her bed, not fully relying on Hitori’s support anymore, the food she’d been given rejuvenating her. But she did like the way Hitori gently helped her lean back until her head hit the pillow.
Kita listened to Hitori’s hums as she stepped out of the room, probably to clean the dishes, before she stepped back in after a few minutes, with a new item in her hands. She watched as Hitori walked up to her and placed a cold washcloth on her head, much to her pleasure. The cool water it had been soaking in soothed her burning fever.
This was nice. Kita reached out for Hitori’s retreating hand and wrapped her fingers around it, pulling it back towards her and allowing her to interlock their fingers. She may have had her eyes closed, but she could hear the way Hitori scooted closer in an attempt to get more comfortable.
“Hitori-chan?” Kita asked, her cheeks were flushed, but now for another reason besides her fever.
“Y-Yes?” Hitori’s voice sounded a bit off; maybe she was flustered by the position they were in. She wouldn’t blame her, she was too, but her illness and exhaustion mostly shrouded it.
“I love you.” Kita stopped the words in her throat, but her lips still moved silently. She knew Hitori wouldn’t be ready to hear those words, nor would Kita want to be saying them now, while bedridden.
They still clawed at her throat, begging to be released, screaming at her to just spit them out already before they tore her apart from inside.
“Thank you.”
Her eyes fluttered shut, satisfied. Kita would be fine waiting, especially for Hitori Gotoh.