Work Text:
The morning frost clung to the gates of Kimetsu Academy like broken glass in the late November chill. Giyuu stood in his heavy charcoal faculty coat, hands tucked into his pockets, watching the unruly stream of students arriving.
Usually, this miserable half-hour of disciplinary duty was made bearable—or at least much more interesting—by the petite woman beside him. Kohco Shinobu took great pleasure in teasing him before the morning bell; she usually gave him sweet smiles while pointing out students with improper uniform skirts, or casually asked why his expression looked like a gargoyle that had swallowed a wasp.
Today, however, the cobblestones to his right were empty. There was no floral perfume in the cold air, or a lilac-ribboned coat brushing against his sleeve in an attempt to steal his warmth.
The silence around him was so heavy that it bothered him more than he wanted to admit.
"Tomioka-sensei!"
Giyuu blinked, pulling his attention from the empty walkway to Kocho Kanae, the senior biology department head and Shinobu’s older sister, who was hurrying toward the courtyard wrapped in a soft pink shawl. The woman always had this warm, cheerful presence, but this morning her brow was drawn tight together.
"Good morning, Kocho-sensei," Giyuu said, giving a small nod. "Is... your sister running late?"
Kanae sighed. "I'm afraid she won't be coming in today. Or tomorrow, most likely. The silly girl worked through the weekend in the laboratory with the windows cracked, and she woke up this morning with a fever over thirty-nine degrees. She could barely stand without shaking."
Something dropped into the pit of Giyuu’s stomach. "Is she alone?"
"I had to leave her to supervise the prefectural examinations, and Aoi is overwhelmed in the lower school dispensary," Kanae admitted.
Her eyes crinkled with affection, despite her worry. "She was absolutely furious about having to cancel her lectures. You know how stubborn she is. She insisted she was 'merely a little warm' before nearly passing out into the laundry hamper."
For the rest of the day, Giyuu Tomioka was like a ghost haunting his own classes. His third-period track students were confused when their famously strict instructor failed to punish Inosuke Hashibira for running the hurdles barefoot.
"Tomioka! You look so terrible!!"
Rengoku’s loud voice broke through his thoughts in the staff room between periods. The history teacher slapped a huge, rough hand onto Giyuu’s shoulder, grinning brightly.
"If your mind is wandering toward the chemistry wing, you are looking in the wrong direction! Kocho is sick! It is only natural for a gentleman of your acquaintance to be concerned!"
"I am not wandering," Giyuu murmured, staring down at an untouched attendance roster.
"Ha! Your whistle has been hanging backward around your neck since lunch!" Rengoku leaned closer and lowered his voice. "Take the evening off, Tomioka. Pick up some pears from the market street. An idle heart makes poor company for an athletic coach!"
The moment the final dismissal bell rang, Giyuu didn't stay behind to finish his lesson plans. He slipped past the departing teachers and walked quickly through the cold twilight into the commercial district. He bought sweet Asian pears, fresh ginger root, and soothing throat lozenges.
Ten minutes later, he stood outside the door of apartment 304 in the faculty complex.
He didn't knock; he had an emergency key that Shinobu had given him six months earlier under the strict condition that he never use it unless she was "literally dying." From Kanae's description, this counted.
The lock turned with a soft click.
Inside, the apartment was dim, filled with the strong smell of menthol and dry heat. The hallway was dark, except for the pale strip of light coming from the half-open bedroom door.
After slipping off his boots, Giyuu placed the groceries on the kitchen counter and walked across the tatami.
Shinobu was curled up in the middle of the room, buried beneath a huge pile of down duvets. She looked so small without her usual straight posture and perfectly arranged butterfly hair. Her dark hair lay across the pillow in damp, tangled strands. Her cheeks were bright red with fever, standing out against her pale skin.
Even when being very sick, her brow was furrowed in stubbornness.
"I told you, Kanae... I'm not hungry," she rasped toward the wall. "Leave the water... on the stand..."
"I am not Kocho-sensei," Giyuu said.
With a slow, painful effort, Shinobu turned her head over her shoulder. Her violet eyes, cloudy with fever, widened in surprise, then narrowed into a sulky glare that held no real anger.
"Tomioka-san?" Her voice cracked. She tried to sit up, but her elbows were shaking under her weight, and she fell back against the pillows with a quiet groan. "What on earth... are you doing here? Did I... hallucinate you?"
"You're burning up," he ignored her question.
He crossed the room and knelt beside the futon. The heat coming from her body was easy to feel. Giyuu reached out and placed his broad palm against her burning forehead, his fingers brushing the damp bangs stuck to her temples.
Shinobu let out a small sigh. His hand was cool from the late autumn air, and the relief from his touch made her eyes fall shut. For three wonderful seconds, she leaned into his palm; her soft skin burning against his rough hands.
Then, as if remembering herself, she weakly slapped at his wrist. "Don't... don't touch me. You'll catch it. You're an athletic instructor, you can't afford to be sick."
"I have a strong immune system," Giyuu refused to move his hand. Instead, his thumb brushed along the soft, burning curve of her cheek. "And you are terrible at taking care of yourself."
"I am a medical professional," she tried to give him her usual sharp glare, failing badly. "I know exactly... how to deal with a rhinovirus infection."
"By freezing yourself in a lab and refusing to drink anything?"
"You are so rude, Tomioka-san."
"Drink this."
He picked up the ceramic glass of electrolyte water from her bedside table and slipped his other arm beneath her shoulders, lifting her upright. The movement brought her close against his chest. Through the thin cotton of her oversized sleep yukata, her bones felt light as a bird's, her breath coming in shallow, shaky gasps against his throat.
She didn't resist as he held the cup to her dry lips and let her drink the water in thirsty, desperate gulps. When a drop ran down her chin, Giyuu wiped it away with the soft pad of his thumb.
"I brought pears," he murmured near her temple, his chest moving against her back. "And ginger. I can grate them for you."
Shinobu didn't answer, but only let her head fall against his chest and tuck her flushed face into the space between his collarbone and neck.
For all her usual sharpness, for all the cruel little comments she threw at the world to hide how fragile she felt beneath, she was completely defenseless right now.
"You scared me today," he said to the dim room. "You weren't at the gate."
Shinobu was quiet, then her slender fingers emerged from the folds of her blanket and slowly moved up his chest until they curled around the lapel of his shirt. Her grip was weak, but stubborn.
"I hated it," she whispered. "Knowing I couldn't walk to the courtyard. I kept waiting for you to knock on the infirmary door to complain about your schedule."
"I don't complain about my schedule."
"You do. In your head. You scowl at it every time." She gave a small laugh that ended in a cough.
Giyuu tightened his arms around her, and he slowly rubbed his large hand over her back, soothing her until her breathing became steady again. His fingers moved up to untangle the knots in her dark hair, then gently massaged the back of her head.
"Shinobu."
She tilted her head back to look at him. In the soft amber light of the bedside lamp, their lips were less than an inch apart.
"You really shouldn't be this close," she murmured, again. "You'll be bedridden by the weekend."
"I don't care," Giyuu said. He leaned down and kissed her. "I'm not leaving."
Giyuu gently lowered her back onto the futon, then pulled the heavy duvet over her, tucking the edges tightly around her shaking body. Beneath the blankets, his hand found hers, and their fingers slipped together naturally. Within minutes, all the tension left her body; her breathing became slower and deeper as she finally fell into a peaceful sleep.
*
The following Monday was crisp and bright.
Shinobu walked through the faculty building, her butterfly hairpin sitting perfectly in her neatly styled hair, and her smile was bright enough to blind the incoming freshmen.
She slid open the door to the faculty lounge.
"Good morning, everyone!" she chirped.
"Ah! Kocho! You look great!!" Rengoku called from his desk, beaming. "Wonderful recovery!"
"Thank you, Rengoku-san. Modern medicine works wonders when used properly," she said, walking toward her desk.
As usual, her eyes moved across the aisle to the physical education desk.
Giyuu was slumped forward, his forehead resting on a messy stack of track rubrics. His dark hair was a mess, sticking out in every direction. Even from five paces away, Shinobu could almost see the heat coming off him like steam. Beside him, an untouched carton of milk sat sweating on the wooden desk.
Shinobu stopped in her tracks; her eyes widened as they moved from his flushed neck to his limp hands lying uselessly over the paperwork.
A slow, wicked smile spread across her lips. She took out her medical thermometer and a packet of cooling gel sheets from her leather satchel, then walked quickly over to his desk.
She leaned down until her lips brushed against his burning ear.
"My, my, Tomioka-san," she purred, her musical voice full of sweet amusement. "Whatever happened to that 'strong immune system' of yours?"
Giyuu let out a low, miserable groan, opening one tired blue eye.
"Come along, darling." Her voice softened into something meant only for the two of them. "Let's get you to the infirmary. It appears it's my turn to take care of you."