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The storm has been assaulting Yokohama for hours.
Rain slams against the apartment windows in relentless sheets, wind howling between the buildings hard enough to rattle the glass. Every few minutes, lighting flashes across the city, followed by thunder that echoes through the quiet apartment.
Jyuto stands by the window, phone in hand, staring out into the storm and the slick streets of Yokohama. There's barely any cars nor people, the majority of them staying in their homes, only essential personnel allowed to be out—first responders, search and rescue teams, medical staff, people who are vital to maintaining the safety of Yokohama's residents.
Riou is somewhere out there. Not as any of those personnel, but somewhere in the forest just outside in the city, Riou is still in his tent in the middle of a thunderstorm.
Normally, Riou's absurd survival living can be chalked up to one of his many charming eccentricities. But now, it's become an active concern.
Jyuto checks his phone again. No messages or calls from Riou personal line or in their group chat. The last message had been Samatoki cancelling rehearsals for the week until the storm passes. His thumb hovers over Riou's contact and he curses under his breath. Would Riou even have signal in his weather? Would he even answer?
The thunder cracks overhead. Jyuto curses another time and grabs his car keys.
He's half-way to the front door when someone knocks. His heart jumps. Jyuto hurries over and pulls the door open.
“Riou...” Relief hits him first, followed by concern.
Riou stands in the doorway, completely soaked. Water drips down from his clothes, pooling around his boots. His hair hands in dripping strands around his face. Even in the hallway light, he looks pale.
“Apologies for the sudden intrusion,” he says, polite as ever.
“Don't apologize! I was about to come and get you anyway.”
“I see. That's very thoughtful.” Riou tries to smile, but even that small action appears painful. “I apologize. I may have…”
His knees buckle.
“Riou!” Jyuto lunges forward and barely catches him before he hits the floor. Jyuto maneuvers them so that Riou's head is cradled in his lap. The second Jyuto touches him, alarm shoots through him.
Riou is burning up.
His eyes, half-lidded, look up at Jyuto. “I may have become ill?”
“You think?” Jyuto says, voice on the verge of hysterical. It earns him a slow blink.
Then, Riou closes his eyes and goes limp in his arms.
“Shit.” Riou is built like a tank. A very heavy tank that's apparently decided to stop functioning in Jyuto's doorway.
“Riou.” No response. “Riou.” A soft noise. But Riou still doesn't wake up. Wonderful.
Jyuto looks towards the hallway, then at the enormous man currently collapsed against him, then back towards the hallway.
Ten agonizing minutes later, Jyuto manages to drag and partially carry Riou into his bedroom, despite the ache in his back. He's never telling Samatoki this, he won't let him live it down.
Jyuto begins to strip away the soaked outer layers before they can freeze Riou. Every inch of exposed skin feels hot. Riou's breathing heavily. It's terrifying. Riou is the sturdiest man Jyuto knows, but now it feels like he's one wrong move away from shutting down completely.
Jyuto cradles his cheek. “Riou.” A faint hum, Riou leans closer to his hand which does weird things to Jyuto but that's something to unpack later. “Riou, when did this start?”
“...This afternoon.”
Jyuto stares. “The storm started a few hours ago. You walked around like this?”
“Correct.”
“You absolute idiot.”
Riou blinks slowly, eyes a little unfocused.
“I wanted to see you.” The sincerity in his voice derails Jyuto's lecture. He pinches the bridge of his nose, internally cursing doe-like blue eyes.
“That's really not helping your case.” Jyuto successfully gets Riou down to his red inner shirt and boxers. “Think you can get on the bed?”
Jyuto hovers over Riou as he pulls himself onto the bed. Immediately, he sinks into it with a soft sigh, burying his nose into Jyuto's pillows and closing his eyes. For a moment, all Jyuto can do is watch him. Riou looks truly exhausted, and while he knows Riou is only human, Jyuto has always thought of him as strong and unshakeable. To have him reduced to this is unnerving.
He's never taken care of someone ill before. Granted, when he used to fall ill he'd just push through it. There's been no one else to take care of him, not for a long time now. But he'll be damned if he lets his own inexperience fail Riou, not when he needs him to be the strong one now.
Only one thing left to do, he supposes.
Samatoki answers his call after two rings.
“What?” he asks gruffly. “Told ya we're not having meetings for a while so—"
“Samatoki,” Jyuto cuts in. Samatoki falls silent. “I need help.”
Samatoki's voice returns, sharper. “Are you hurt? Where are you?”
“I'm fine. It's…it's Riou.”
“Riou's hurt?” Jyuto hears movement from the other end.
“Not exactly. He collapsed.”
“The fuck you mean he collapsed?!”
“I mean he walked from his base camp to my apartment in a thunderstorm and collapsed in my doorway!”
“Is he breathing?”
“Of course he is!”
“Well excuse me for checking!”
“He has a fever.”
“How high?”
“I don't know!”
“You don't know?”
“I haven’t checked!”
“Then check!”
“I don't even have a thermometer! Or medicine! Or any food in my fridge because this fucking storm won't let me out! How the fuck am I supposed to care for Riou when I don't even know what the hell I'm doing?!”
There's a beat of silence. Jyuto fears that Samatoki hung up the phone, even though logically he knows Samatoki won't do that. When he talks again, his voice is calmer, like speaking to a wounded animal.
“Calm down, bunny. That's not going to help anyone.” Jyuto hears a door closing on the other side of the call. “Listen to me. First, stop acting like he's dying.”
Jyuto scoffs. “Easier said than done.”
“Next, check his breathing. Is he having a hard time?”
“No.”
“Good. Then, it's probably just fever and exhaustion. He's an idiot who walked through a storm.” Then, Jyuto hears the sound of an engine running. “I'm heading over there now.”
Relief hits Jyuto so quickly it almost embarrasses him. “It's still raining. You don't have to—”
“Like a little rain is going to stop me from getting to you two,” Samatoki says, cocky even during a storm. “Sit tight. I'll be there in ten. Give Riou some water if he'll drink.”
“Alright.”
“And Jyuto?” Jyuto looks at Riou still sprawled on the bed, watches the way his chest falls and rises with every breath. “He's gonna be okay, yeah? He's stronger than that.” The certainty in Samatoki's voice sounds suspiciously like he's reassuring himself too. Jyuto finds himself clinging to it as he waits.
The door bursts open twenty minutes later. Jyuto briefly regrets giving Samatoki a spare key as he meets him out in the living room.
“You said ten,” Jyuto says, almost accusingly. Samatoki rolls his eyes, shrugs off his black parka and leaves it on the floor.
“Bought a few things.” A grocery bag hangs from one arm, another is slung over his shoulder. Tucked between his arm and hip is a pharmacy bag.
“What things?”
Samatoki kicks the door shut behind him and starts unpacking. “Cold medicine, cooling patches, sports drinks, a thermometer because you're an idiot who doesn't own one, and some ingredients to make soup.”
“How do you even know how to get all this stuff?”
“Nemu,” Samatoki says simply. “She used to get sick all the time when she was little.” There's a strange gentleness in his voice as he says this, like those memories have been carefully preserved despite everything else. Then, the softness in his expression fades and he tosses the thermometer at Jyuto. “Go take his temperature. I'll start making soup."
By the time Jyuto returns, Samatoki has commandeered the kitchen. There's a pot of water on the stove, vegetables and chicken lined up on the cutting board.
“How is it?”
“Thirty eight point two.”
Samatoki winces. “That's pretty bad.”
“He was already burning up when he got here.”
“Man, we should have picked him up before this shitstorm started.”
“I know that,” Jyuto says, voice sharper than intended. Because that was his plan before. He's always gotten Riou before any major storms. It had been one of his and Samatoki's unspoken promises this time of year. He hates thinking how much worse things could have been if Riou didn't get the sense to start heading towards them.
Samatoki doesn't bite back at Jyuto's tone. Instead, he reaches over and ruffles Jyuto's hair, a gesture so unexpected Jyuto freezes.
“What do you think you're doing?”
“You look stressed.”
“Remove your hand.”
“Are you still stressed?”
“Yes.”
Another ruffle. Until Jyuto slaps his hand away.
Samatoki grins. “Come help me with the soup. You're on chopping duty.”
The apartment soon begins to smell of chicken broth and ginger. Jyuto shouldn't be surprised that Samatoki knows how to cook, having had dinner at his place before, but Samatoki whips up the soup with the ease of someone who's prepared it hundreds of times. He can't help but think that Aohitsugi Nemu is very loved indeed.
They load up a tray with soup and a sports drink. Samatoki had popped out one of the cold medicines and laid it on the side too. Outside, the room continues to rage but the thunder sounds more distant now.
As they approach the bedroom, Jyuto's unease returns. He can't shake the feeling of wrongness when they open the door to a silent room and dim lights. Samatoki seems to notice it too. He rushes over to Riou's side and turns on the bedside lamp. Jyuto feels his stomach drop.
The fever's gotten worse. Riou's face is flushed a deep red, sweat pooling on the pillow beneath his head. His breathing has gotten more labored, like each one took a bit of effort.
Samatoki sets the tray dawn and uses his free hands to cup Riou's cheeks. “Riou, hey.” He doesn't respond and Jyuto's heart lurches. Earlier, Riou had at least responded, now there's nothing, not even a stir.
The fear that's been quietly sitting on his chest all evening tightens its grip on him. Jyuto feels like he can’t breathe.
“Jyuto,” Samatoki says sharply, shaking him from his downward spiral. “Take his temperature.”
Jyuto picks up the thermometer Samatoki had gotten and moments later they're staring down at a number much higher than earlier.
“Why does it keep getting worse?” Jyuto asks.
“Shit happens,” Samatoki replies. He tries waking Riou again, lightly tapping at his cheek. “Hey, Riou. Come on, buddy.” Riou's eyes flutter, albeit weakly. Not quite open. “Can you hear me?” A soft grunt. Samatok lets out a breath. “We're gonna take care of you alright? Just sit tight.”
Jyuto already finds himself opening another cooling patch and pressing it against Riou's forehead. Samatoki picks up Riou's head and replaces the damp pillow with a cleaner one. With a little bit of maneuvering, they get Riou into a pair of sweatpants from Jyuto's closet to help him sweat out the fever. All the while, Riou continues to be sluggish and unresponsive, like a doll.
He sits down on the edge of the mattress and without really thinking about it, he reaches for Riou's hand. The skin is still frighteningly hot, but Riou's fingers weakly close around his. It lacks its usual strength, but at the very least, Jyuto knows Riou is still awake.
Samatoki taps a finger against the tray. “We gotta get something in him so he can take meds.” Jyuto nods, but his eyes don't leave Riou.
“You are not allowed to die from a cold,” he mutters. A faint crease appears between Riou's brows, as if offended by the suggestion. Samatoki huffs.
The night stretches on endlessly. The storm outside gradually loses some of its fury, but neither Jyuto nor Samatoki is paying much attention to it anymore. Their focus revolves entirely around Riou, still lying in bed. They'd manage to get some soup and medicine in him, but his temperature is still high, his skin still flushed. Jyuto has lost count on how many times he's nodded off, only to snap himself awake, check Riou's temperature only to see the number unchanging. Samatoki is no better—constantly checking Riou's breathing, wiping his face from sweat, talking to him in a soft tone, repeating the entire process hour after hour.
By two in the morning, the two of them are exhausted.
By four, they look terrible.
Samatoki sits on the edge of the bed, just inches away from Riou. He's squeezing one of the towels, hands itching for a cigarette but clearly holding himself back. The room is dark except for the bedside lamp. Jyuto finds himself staring at Samatoki's pendant and the way it's glinting in the dimness of everything else.
Eventually, Samatoki catches him.
“Shouldn't you be sleeping?”
“Can't sleep even if I wanted to.”
“Don't you have work tomorrow? Or fuck, later I guess?”
Jyuto sighs, tries pushing up his glasses only to remember he set it down on the nightstand ages ago. “I took a leave of absence.”
Samatoki looks surprised. “I didn't know you actually had leaves.”
“Of course I have them.”
“Could have fooled me. I rarely see you take vacations, you damn workaholic.”
Jyuto grunts. “Nothing wrong with caring about my career. It's important to me.”
Samatoki glances between him and Riou as if finding the answer to an unspoken question. He raises a hand to his mouth, as if looking for a cigarette that isn't there, ends up rubbing his chin.
“We should go on vacation, the three of us. It would be good, I think,” Samatoki says, tone so painfully wistful that it disarms Jyuto just a bit. “Go skiing in Hokkaido, maybe.”
A few years ago, Jyuto would have laughed it off. Convinced himself it was just a throwaway statement made in the heat of the moment. But now, Jyuto has learned Samatoki's tells as well as Samatoki has learned his. He's being sincere in his desire to spend more time with them.
“I'll check my schedule,” Jyuto says. Samatoki rolls his eyes, both of them aware that Jyuto would drop anything for their team. “But I would prefer finding an onsen in Hakone.”
“Mm…sounds nice.” Both of them immediately snap towards the bed.
Riou's awake.
Barely anyway. His eyes are opened halfway. A little unfocused, but looking at them with clarity. His gaze drifts between the two of them, before landing on Samatoki. His nose wrinkles.
“Samatoki, when did you get here? Did you walk in this storm?”
Samatoki barks out a laugh, the sound ringing through the entire room. “Coming from you, Riou?! Man, you're funny as fuck.”
Riou looks even more confused. “I was not making a joke.”
Samatoki just keeps laughing. Jyuto chalks it up to lack of sleep. He reaches for the thermometer and coaxes Riou to put it under his tongue. A minute later, it beeps.
He checks the number, blinks, looks again to make sure, before a small smile finally spreads across his face. “The fever's dropping.”
The relief that floods the room is almost tangible. Samatoki leans back against the headboard, sighing. Without thinking, he starts brushing a hand through Riou's damp hair. Riou makes a sleepy sound and leans into the touch. The sight engraves itself in Jyuto's mind, tucked away for safekeeping.
“‘Bout damn time you started fighting back,” Samatoki says. “Was beginning to think me and Jyuto were gonna drag your sorry ass to the hospital at 5 in the morning.”
“You do not have to do that for me.”
“Riou,” Jyuto says patiently. “With all the love in the world, please shut up.”
Samatoki laughs again. Riou looks deeply offended.
It's seven in the morning by the time the storm fades to a drizzle. The city beyond the apartment window begins to stir awake, pale morning light slowly replacing the darkness.
When Samatoki checks Riou's temperature again, he lets out a noise that snaps Jyuto from his catnap next to Riou.
“Fever's gone,” Samatoki says, triumphantly holding the thermometer between his fingers. Jyuto takes the thermometer from him and checks it for himself.
He lets out a long breath. “Thank fuck.” After an entire night watching the numbers climb and waiting for them to finally turn around, it's a relief to see normal readings. He turns to Riou, who's finally managed to stay awake for more than an hour. His gaze is noticeably clearer. His cheeks are still flushed, but his skin is no longer warm when Jyuto lays a hand on his cheek. For the first time since arriving at his apartment, Riou finally looks like himself again.
“How do you feel?”
Riou considers the question. “Still a bit tired.”
“Good.”
Riou blinks. “Good?”
“If you said you felt fine, I'd assume you had brain damage.” The fondness in Jyuto's tone is impossible to miss. Riou stares at him for a while, then he looks towards Samatoki and the way he's still sagging against the wall.
“Did you two stay the whole night?”
Samatoki rolls his eyes. “Obviously. Jyuto even used his vacation days.”
“Samatoki,” Jyuto says sharply.
Riou averts his eyes, looking down at his hands fisted on Jyuto's sheets, like he doesn't quite know what to do with this information except…
“Thank you. Both of you.” His lips tilt up in a small smile, like the clouds parting for the sun after a storm.
“What are you smiling about?” Samatoki asks.
Riou picks up his head and looks at both of them. “I just feel very fortunate. And loved.”
For once, Jyuto doesn't have a sarcastic comment ready, Samatoki doesn't brush it off like he normally does. They let the sentiment sink in, like they're trying to keep it in the air for a few more moments.
Until eventually, Riou's stomach starts to growl.
“Ah should I—” Samatoki reaches out and pushes him back down on the bed before Riou can even get out.
“I'll make breakfast,” he declares. He shoots a look at Jyuto. “Make sure he doesn't leave that bed until I'm done.”
“Aye, aye.”
The kitchen smells strongly of coffee by the time Samatoki says they can finally get out of the room. Despite Riou's assurances, Jyuto still finds himself hovering over him, ready to catch him at a moment's notice. Riou politely doesn't say anything about it.
Samatoki sets down bowls of the leftover soup, alongside a standard fare of rice and rolled eggs. “You barely have anything in your fridge, bunny.”
“I'll go grocery shopping this week,” Jyuto says.
“Yeah? Let me come with you. Gotta make sure you buy shit other than ramen and cigs.” Jyuto rolls his eyes, but doesn't really reject Samatoki's offer.
They clap their hands together and give their thanks before tucking in. Jyuto glances at Riou, watching the way he's slowly raising the food to his mouth and chewing. His movements are still a little sluggish, but he's glad to see his appetite is returning.
In the background, the morning news drones on about the recent weather. The storm is over for now, but heavy rains are expected in the next few days.
Which is precisely the moment Riou says: “I should be heading back to camp.”
Jyuto looks up from his coffee. “Excuse me?”
Riou gestures vaguely towards the window. “I need to check on my tent. It likely requires maintenance.”
Jyuto stares at him like he's grown a second head because surely he just misheard, right? But Riou continues to look out the window like it will somehow take him back to his camp.
Jyuto sets down his mug, a little too heavily. Enough to catch Riou's attention.
“No.”
“...No?”
“You're not leaving.” Samatoki looks up from his breakfast, watching both of them. “You spent the whole night running a fever high enough to render you immobile and now you want to hike back into a forest after a typhoon. Normally, I trust your instincts, Riou, but that's a stupid plan if I've ever heard one.”
Riou looks unsettled, because even if they never said it aloud, Samatoki and Jyuto have always been soft on him. But not this time. Jyuto's eyes have that narrowed look to them, the kind usually directed at particularly difficult opponents.
“My condition has improved—”
“A mere four hours ago. Not enough time for your immune system to properly recover.”
“I just wish to check on a few things—”
Jyuto raises a hand, not even bothering to let Riou finish. He puts his fingers up one by one. “The roads are probably closed, the trail to the forest would be slippery, there's likely fallen trees everywhere that you need to climb over, not to mention the winds are still likely to be strong and you don't even have proper clothes for the weather." Riou opens his mouth, but Jyuto continues to cut him off. “And before you say you can handle it, that's not the point.”
Riou still looks like he wants to argue, because all three of them have never been the type to back down from a fight, but Samatoki finally moves and lays a hand on Riou's arm.
“Hear him out, Riou,” Samatoki says, a commanding tone leaking into his voice. The kind that always has Riou snapping to attention out of reflex and, of course, devotion to these two. “Go ahead, Jyuto.”
Jyuto sighs deeply, pinching the bride of his nose.
“Riou.” Riou straightens slightly. “You arrived at my apartment with a high-grade fever because you walked through a storm. You collapsed in my hallway, because your body gave up. I had to carry you inside.
And now you want to take back into the forest immediately after a major storm.”
Riou stays quiet for a while, staring at Samatoki's hand on his arm and the dark circles under Jyuto's eyes. Then, he takes a deep breath. “Perhaps…some additional recovery time would be practical.”
Samatoki pats his arm, as if in approval. Unfortunately, Jyuto isn't finished.
“Stay here with me.” Jyuto glances at the window, at the bright sky beyond it and the city still drying after the storm. Then, back at Riou. “Just until the rainy season passes over. Then, you can go back to your camp. I'll drive you there myself.”
Riou looks down at his hands. Samatoki's lips are curled.
“I do not wish to impose on you.”
“It's not an imposition if I invited you, is it?”
Samatoki clears his throat, as if trying to hold himself back from laughing. The exchange is beginning to get sad. It's like Riou is talking to an immovable wall. “You should listen to Jyuto.”
Riou looks betrayed.
“Ack, don't give me that look. It's not gonna work this time. You nearly scared us to death.” The humor vanishes from his tone. The room grows quieter, save for the news in the background. “Just stay here for a bit. Please.” The word hangs in the air, rare enough from either of them that Riou, for all his stubbornness, finally waves the white flag.
A small, gentle smile fills his face. “Alright.”
He watches the way both his teammates finally relax. Riou watches their reactions and feels absurdly fond.
And outside, for the very first time in hours, the sun finally breaks through the clouds.