Sick Days, a Princess, and a Swan Yummy
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Something more comedic than romantic, I guess.
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“Bathroom's free.” Ankh didn't respond, but his breath came a little too quick for someone asleep. Eiji frowned. “Come on, Ankh. All Chiyoko expects you to do is come downstairs.”
“Mm.” Ankh curled up tighter and sighed. “Shut up and give me a minute. You're so noisy.”
“You know, maybe you'd have more energy if you ate more and slept on a real bed,” Eiji said as he rifled through his clothes for a fresh shirt.
“Didn't I just tell you to shut up?” Ankh slid off the couch in such a fluid, boneless way that Eiji found himself bracing to step over and catch him. He made it to the door and lurched down the hall, muttering to himself the whole way.
Downstairs, Chiyoko had their breakfast set out amid boxes of decorations for the day's theme. It was the usual breakfast for days when there was last minute preparation to be done: A slice of toast, a slice of ham, and a hastily poached egg stacked on a plate and eaten carefully while unwinding garlands or spreading tablecloths. Eiji made his portion disappear in four wolfing bites and set to work unpacking hollow prop books bound in faux leather and rolls of blue rose garland. Chiyoko took each item from him and whisked it off to its proper place.
“Are we doing Alice in Wonderland today?” Eiji asked, studying an imitation potted rose destined for centerpiece duty. Chiyoko plucked it out of his hands and chortled.
“No, no. But that would be fun, wouldn't it?” She set the plant down and fussed with it for a second. It looked the same from every angle to Eiji, but there was a reason he mostly unpacked things. “This theme was a request from the party that's coming this afternoon. We're trying for the romantic atmosphere of an old European school.”
“Ah.” Eiji glanced down at his characteristically loud shirt and cargo pants. “I guess I don't really fit in right now, do I?”
Chiyoko waved a hand and smiled. “Oh, no worries, a friend of mine is letting me borrow some appropriate... things.” Her gaze wandered across the room, to the foot of the stairs. “Ankh, honey, are you all right?”
Leaning heavy on the wall as he was, Ankh did not look all right. He shook his head, walked with marked effort into the dining room, and slumped into the chair opposite his breakfast. He eyed the plate with what Eiji could only assume was disdain.
“I'm fine.” The reply came a a half a minute too late.
“Are you sure?” Chiyoko hovered nearer to him, just out of reach of his arms. When he didn't bristle at her, she leaned in closer. “You're so pale!”
Now, finally noticing, Eiji felt the first sharp pang of concern. For the detective's body, of course. He peered very seriously over the box between them, studying Ankh's face. Had he lost any medals recently?
Ankh hunched up and folded his arms on the table. “I told you I'm fine. Back off and quit staring at me, both of you!”
A beat passed before Ankh's eyes popped wide and his body jerked in a full-body lurch that brought Chiyoko straight into his personal space. Before Eiji could so much as process the situation, she'd whisked him into the guest bathroom with a muttered, “Oh dear,” and shut the door.
The sound that followed, muffled though it was by the door, was unmistakable. Eiji grimaced. When the racket died down, he cracked the door open to see Ankh hunkered over the sink – oddly enough – with Chiyoko holding his hair in a tight fistful behind his head.
“There, there,” she was saying as she rubbed wide circles over Ankh's back with her spare hand. She didn't even look up when the door opened. “Eiji, could you pour a cup of water and bring Ankh's toothbrush from upstairs, please?”
“I- Sure.” He hurried away, eager to forget the sight of Ankh looking so haggard and human. As he rushed to the kitchen, he could hear Chiyoko fussing over Ankh.
“Goodness, you're burning up! Here, take this off so you don't smother. Just the jacket, I promise. It's all right, you're safe here.”
“What are you talking about, woman?” Ankh's voice was syrupy and ragged. “Get off me!”
“I could have Eiji do it.”
“No way!”
.oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo.
Ankh threw up twice more in the space of an hour before Chiyoko decided he'd emptied his stomach so thoroughly that he could be trusted to rest upstairs. He was too weak by that point to do anything more than mumble and slink back to the bathroom when Chiyoko pushed a set of white pajamas on him. Eiji stood by in his costume, a stuffy school uniform that to him seemed more like a suit with a thin ribbon in place of a tie.
“Morning, everyone!”
The front door swung open the instant Ankh slunk into view. He looked distinctly washed out and pitiful, but Hina didn't comment on that. She just looked between the two of them, then at Chiyoko.
“I forgot we were doing that today. How did you get him to dress up?”
Ankh sneered, a gesture undercut perfectly by his blanched face and Chiyoko's motherly hovering. Eiji let himself be privately amused at the contrast.
“Ankh is sick today, so he's just wearing something comfy for a change,” Chiyoko said, herding him by the shoulders toward Eiji. If he resisted, it didn't show. “Eiji, could you make sure he gets up the stairs all right?”
Ankh wrenched his arm out of Chiyoko's grasp and tottered on his feet. He managed to catch himself on the edge of the bar. “I told you I'm fine, woman, now quit coddling me!”
“Of course, of course.” Chiyoko nodded sagely and pushed him on Eiji again. “Just humor me, all right? Because I worry. It breaks my heart to think you might hurt yourself, so do it as a favor to me.”
“I don't do favors for-” Ankh's snotty remark was cut short by a flinch when Hina advanced on him. He slipped behind Eiji, who stood as an unimpressed human shield. “Fine. It's too hot down here anyway.”
It wasn't any cooler upstairs, of course, but that didn't stop Eiji from seizing the opportunity to whisk Ankh up the stairs by his arm. Ankh followed with all the enthusiasm of a cinder block on a rope, slippered feet falling hard on the steps. He slid off Eiji's shoulder and onto the bed the instant he could.
“If you can help it, don't throw up in my bed,” Eiji said, nudging the wastebasket closer to the bed as a precaution. “I understand if you can't help it but... try not to.”
Ankh groaned and pulled the pillow down over his face. “I'm fine. I was just too hot. That's all.”
“You're still too hot.” Eiji lifted the pillow out of Ankh's loosely closed hands and touched his forehead. A deep frown pulled the corners of his mouth downward. If the medicine Chiyoko gave him didn't take it might pay to skip out of work and take him to the hospital. “You must have been steaming in those heavy clothes, though. I don't know how you can stand sleeping like that.”
Ankh offered no verbal reply. Instead, he mumbled nonsense and rolled over to face the wall while Eiji retrieved his phone from the couch and set it on the bedside table. The window rattled. It would probably storm before long.
“Text me or Hina if you need anything, all right?” Eiji said. Ankh huffed in reply. There was something disconcerting about the way his skinny body puffed up and promptly contracted again. He really did look pitiful. Eiji sighed. “Jeez. Do you want an ice pop?”
Another pathetic huff. “Yes.”
Down in the restaurant, Chiyoko was happily preoccupied with getting Gotou into costume. His stone-faced expression worked rather well with the stuffy uniform, but Eiji suspected he wouldn't want to hear that.
“Where's the freeloader today?” Gotou asked as Eiji emerged from the kitchen with a fruit pop and a bowl of ice water in hand. He flinched when Chiyoko gave him a light slap on the back of the head.
“Ankh isn't feeling well.” She shoved one of the big prop books into his hands and stepped back. “Try to be compassionate if he comes downstairs, all right? He's never had anybody to take care of him before.”
A knowing look passed between Eiji and Gotou, but Chiyoko remained oblivious to it. She was too busy setting up her camera to take the first of what Eiji suspected would be far too many pictures of the staff in costume.
“What, so Hino has to babysit him while I do this?”
As Eiji made his way up the stairs, he heard three sharp taps on the table. “You know, Gotou, this cane isn't just a prop.”
Ankh had propped himself up in bed, sort of. He'd wedged the pillow mostly under his shoulders and scooted up against the headboard to give himself the illusion of alertness. Eiji set the water down and pulled Ankh back into a proper horizontal position by his ankles. Ankh kicked at him, but there was more malice than force behind it.
“Come on, don't be a brat,” Eiji said, holding the ice pop out like an offering. Ankh snapped it up and popped it in his mouth, which Eiji knew was the closest he'd get to gratitude. He wrung out the tea towel he'd swiped from the kitchen and pressed it to Ankh's forehead. “How's your stomach?”
“I keep telling you it's fine, don't I?”
Eiji shrugged. “You don't look fine, is all.” He gingerly touched the back of his hand to Ankh's cheek and neck. It was a marvel he didn't try to take a bite out of him. Still warm, but not burning like before. “You look really bad, actually.”
Ankh scrutinized him through hazy, half open eyes. “I do, or this body does?”
“Huh?” Eiji blinked. “Both, I guess? What kind of question is that?”
“One you're too stupid to answer, obviously,” Ankh mumbled, settling deeper into the pillow and shutting his eyes. “Get downstairs. I'll let you know when you can be of use to me again.”
Eiji forced an unflappable smile. “Got it.”
The barrage of needy texts Eiji expected never came. Somehow, something worse happened. Just as the party reached its peak and Eiji's eyes started to sting from the constant flash of Chiyoko's camera, he felt the first telltale buzz from his phone stashed in the breast pocket of his uniform. With drink and dessert orders piling up and every other guest hauling him – and usually Gotou – over for photos at every opportunity, he let himself forget about the message for nearly a half hour. After all, if it were something dire surely Ankh could be bothered to raise his voice or drag himself out of bed. Eiji let himself believe that until he had a moment to slip away and check his phone.
>Yummy. His, too.
.oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo..oOo.
Everything hurt, which for Ankh was an unfortunate novelty. Lying still for too long hurt, sitting up to alleviate that hurt, rolling over hurt, stretching his legs hurt. Even blinking hurt, somehow. To make matters worse, that idiot seemed to be ignoring his repeated messages. He lifted his phone over his face with great effort and reviewed the one-sided conversation. Weird. The timestamps were awfully widely spaced.
A soft knock at the door ripped his attention away from the mysteries of technology. He flipped his phone face down on the bed beside him and gave a small grunt of acknowledgment.
“Ankh, sweetie, are you awake?”
He bristled and pricked up his ears, straining to somehow detect the presence of other humans in the hall outside his door. He didn't have the strength to repel an entire audience of morons at the moment.
“Do you think I can sleep like this?” he called, grimacing at the sticky rasp in his voice. He even sounded pathetic in this state.
“Are you decent?”
“As much as I can be in this getup.”
The door swung open and Chiyoko slipped in with a tray under one arm. She was still wearing the long skirt and blazer he'd last seen her pulling on for the party, though she'd taken the pins out of her hair. She smiled in her sweet, aggravating way and set the tray down. Ankh didn't have the energy to sit up and inspect its contents.
“Don't you have work you could be doing?” he asked, eying her.
“Oh, the party is winding down by now,” Chiyoko said. She picked the tea towel up off the floor and shook it out. It must have fallen off his face at some point. “Gotou can handle it, at least for the few minutes I'm up here. Are you hungry?”
Ankh closed his eyes. It was the most defiant thing he could summon up the energy to do. “No.”
“You need to eat.” Without any preamble, she thrust her hands under his arms and hoisted him into a sitting position against the headboard. The dull ache that shot through his joints must have shown on his face, because that fawning smile greeted him when he opened his eyes again. “I'm sorry, honey, I just don't want you to choke. Are you all right?”
“I'm fine, just shut up already,” Ankh mumbled. He would take off out the window in an instant if he thought his convenient body could survive even a momentary separation in its weakened state. By the look on Chiyoko's face, Ankh could tell he was only skirting a lecture on manners by virtue of being sick. He let himself feel a little smug about that.
“Well, I made you a little lunch I want you to at least try before I go.” She picked a little bowl off the tray and set it in his lap. The contents resembled freshly mixed concrete. “I know you like sweet things and don't like hot things, so I made a soup that's cold and sweet. Try some.”
Ankh wrinkled his nose and said nothing. The sight of it didn't make his stomach lurch like the smell of breakfast had, but he wasn't prepared to take any chances. Worse, she was wasting his time with this soup business and tying Eiji up making him babysit her stupid customers.
Chiyoko pulled the chair over and plopped down in it, watching Ankh with narrowed eyes. “I'm not going anywhere until you at least try it.” Her expression softened when she reached out to brush his hair aside and lay a palm on his forehead. Her fingers were cool and soft, which Ankh had to admit pleased him. “You've been up here for hours without a bite to eat, and I took time to make that so you can get better faster. With that in mind, won't you at least try it?”
Ankh huffed and swirled the little spoon around in the glop a few times before reluctantly popping it into his mouth. It was cold and sweet, as promised, and smoother than its hideous appearance suggested. All things considered, it wasn't entirely awful. And he was hungry. And she would leave him alone if he ate it. So he did, faster than he'd intended, all the while trying to ignore Chiyoko's cooing and patting his hair.
“That's my good boy.” She cleared the bowl away and handed him a glass of something pink and watery, which he regarded with scrutiny. “Drink that and I'll get out of your hair. Hina thinks you caught the flu that's going around her school, so this will help if you're feeling sore.”
“Won't you catch it, hovering around me like that?” Ankh asked, raising the glass to his lips. It tasted of chemicals and nasty, fake sugar, but he downed it to get rid of her.
Chiyoko took the glass from him and let him lie back down. “I'm widely traveled and I work with the general public day in and day out. My immune system could withstand an assault by the Huns at this point.”
She leaned over to kiss his forehead before standing to go, and some subtle pull Ankh couldn't understand tugged a few words out of him.
“Why are you always doing this?”
“Oh.” She turned and studied his face. “If you don't want me to kiss you anymore, I won't. I'm sorry.”
“Hah?” Ankh blinked, slowly. His eyes wanted to stay shut. He had a full stomach and the steady hiss and crash of rain on the roof to lull him. Only the gnawing awareness of Yummy business afoot kept him conscious. “Idiot. I mean doing things for me.”
“Because I care about you.” She gave him one of those sweet, pitying smiles he hated. “I want you to be happy and healthy now because you couldn't before.”
Ankh scoffed. “Eiji needs to keep his mouth shut, filling your head with that garbage.”
To Ankh's chagrin, Chiyoko returned to the chair. “Eiji never tells me anything specific, don't you worry. We both understand that those things are for you to tell in your own time if you feel comfortable and safe.” She touched his forehead again and he didn't have the strength or the will to swat her hand away. “But he did tell me that someone you trusted hurt you very badly and took something from you.”
Ankh was quiet, his eyes shut. Something inside him wound tight until it hurt.
“I'm not asking you to tell me any more.” Her hand raked through his hair, chill and soft against skin that refused to cool. It was nice. “Just know I want you to feel like you can trust people again some day, all right? You deserve that.”
“Thanks.” He didn't mean it, or told himself so. He forced his eyes to open, just a little. “Speaking of Eiji, bring him up here. He's been ignoring me.”
Chiyoko pursed her lips. “You don't remember?” She hummed and gathered up the tray. “Of course not, you must have been half asleep already. Eiji and Hina both took off almost an hour ago to get some medicine for your head. They've taken so long now that I rummaged through the medicine cabinet for this.” She nodded to the empty glass. “It's a powder for children. Isn't that silly? I don't even remember why I had it!”
Ankh barely registered most of the words. His brain was too busy fighting infection and being livid. He sunk deep into the bed and sighed. “Ah. All right. Well. I'll wait. Thanks for lunch. Goodbye.”
“You're welcome.” She left with a self satisfied spring in her step, but not without taking a parting shot at him through the shut door. “Get plenty of rest and don't stay up playing on your phone, all right?”
“Yes! Go!” It hurt his throat to shout, but he didn't care. He'd already found the hidden reserves of energy needed to slink across the room and check his case to see which medals Eiji had filched while he slept.
Exactly zero. That didn't bode well.
He could hear Chiyoko, still on the stairs. He waited a long moment, blood pounding in his ears from rage and exertion, until she moved on and he could scoop up a handful of medals and make his way to the window. Wind and rain blasted his face and soaked him through to the skin even before he landed with one quarter his usual grace and lightness on the sodden ground. That is to say, he landed safely but tipped over onto his back the instant he touched the earth.
He took a deep breath and drew himself up on his feet, sensing, seething.
“Eiji, if I get you out of this I'm going to kill you.”
