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[flyingsolos]

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week 3 of sickness plot

[purrtagonist]

[the fever breaks, but things still don't get better]

[it's much nicer to be able to walk without being struck by sudden bouts of lightheaded dizziness, or without being winded within the first five steps. even his coughs are beginning to subside, which does so much for soothing the rawness in his throat. but Akira barely has time to enjoy any of that, because in the absence of normal flu symptoms?]

[he can't feel a goddamn thing]

[he chalks it up to being exhausted the first time he realizes that his fingers are numb to every single sensation. but as the days creep by and even a good night's rest doesn't bring his sense of touch back, as he starts to fumble with objects and knock his legs and shoulders against the corners of hallways, he definitely realizes this isn't normal]

[and that part is so, so frustrating]

[so! today, Akira can be found in the kitchen, attempting to serve himself up a bowl of simple soup. except. . .]

-- shit!

[at some point? he winds up dropping that bowl onto the ground, splashing warm soup everywhere. and, under the impression that he's completely alone and no one else is around to see him lose his cool just a little bit, he slams his fist down against the counter, shoulders hunched and shaking with frustration]

Damn it. . .

[he hates not being well]

[flyingsolos]

[ It's a relief the first time she takes a breath and she can breathe, and she can sit up without having to brace a palm on the mattress to keep herself from toppling over from the dizziness alone. It looks as though the worst has come to pass-- for her, at least, despite tiring out more easily.

It's fine, that too will pass, and she has a bigger concern. Because while Rion's okay, she's fast realizing that a lot of people are still... very much not. People running into walls, people who aren't answering when others call out to them... something's up.

And that feeling is made all the more stronger when she rounds the corner into the kitchen just in time to hear Akira vehemently curse and the aftermath.

Silently, she steps forward, kneels to pick up the bowl and straightens to place it on the counter beside his fist. She won't say anything just yet. ]

[purrtagonist]

[he doesn't see her until she's already in the kitchen, scooping up the bowl and placing it aside. he immediately jerks back, eyes widening in shock. . . which quickly melts into something akin to shame]

[he looks away, and rubs the back of his neck (or. . . what he thinks is the back of his neck, but is in reality closer to the back of his head), hand slipping into his pocket]

I could've. . . I was going to get that.

[flyingsolos]

I was working on getting my speed and stealth back up to par.

[ with a faint smile as she glances around for a rag. ]

It didn't burn you, did it?

[purrtagonist]

[he's already reaching for one, and then crouching down to mop up the mess instead of giving it to her]

Wouldn't know if it did.

[he sounds a bit. . . wry. but judging from the splatter and how it is concentrated on the floor and his shoes, he's probably okay]

[flyingsolos]

... So you really can't feel anything, huh?

[ This sickness has been especially rude to him, hasn't it?

Rion's going to busy herself with filling him a new bowl, in the meantime. ]

[purrtagonist]

[just makes a face in response to that, before he stands and dumps the soup-soaked towel into the sink]

[flyingsolos]

If it's anything like the rest of this sickness... there's a good chance you'll be able to feel things by next week.

... I know you've already had to deal with a lot.

1/2

[purrtagonist]

[deep breath in. . .]

[purrtagonist]

It's okay.

[slow breath out]

Everyone gets sick. It's annoying, but normal. I overreacted.

[flyingsolos]

You're frustrated. That's normal.

[ She would have probably cried by now. ]

[purrtagonist]

Yeah, because nobody likes being sick. But I haven't dealt with anything that everyone else here hasn't also experienced.

[tilts his head towards her]

. . . are you feeling better?

[flyingsolos]

And I'm sure they've been frustrated enough to punch things, too. You don't have to compare yourself to them.

[ But to that, she smiles reassuringly. ]

Yeah. I'm a little tired still, but I can actually move around without feeling like I need to sleep for a week to make up for it.

[purrtagonist]

[pulls up a small smile for her]

Good. I'm glad to hear that.

[flyingsolos]

And now it's my turn to fuss over you. You'd better be prepared, Akira.

[purrtagonist]

[not much to fuss over, he thinks. but he knows that'll just get him into an argument, so. . .]

After lunch, I think I'm just going to go nap again.

[flyingsolos]

Can I walk you back, then? When you're done, I mean.

[ She doesn't really want to get in the way of him resting and recovering, but it's been a good few days since she's seen him. The last phase of her fever had been bad enough to keep her firmly in bed. ]

[purrtagonist]

. . . of course. You can stay while I eat, too. Do you want some?

[he isn't about to send her away]

[flyingsolos]

Might as well. I kind of forgot what it was like to have an appetite.

[ Being sick is terrible, 0/10, do not recommend. ]

1/2

[purrtagonist]

[it comes highly not recommended by Akira too, to be quite honest]

It feels pretty awesome, I'll tell you that much.

[he reaches up to open a nearby cabinet and fetch her a bowl]

[purrtagonist]

[. . . and winds up opening the door and smacking himself in the face with the door]

[he jumps, but it's more out of surprise than pain]

[flyingsolos]

Akira?!

[ oh god what-- ]

Are you okay?? [ Is he bleeding? God, why is she even asking, he can't feel it-- ]

[purrtagonist]

[HE JUST]

[LOOKS]

[SO ANNOYED as he carefully, gently closes the cabinet door]





[. . . anyway yes he's bleeding, from a tiny cut over his eyebrow, but nothing serious]

[flyingsolos]

...

[ spare rag get. ]

Hold still for a minute.

[ And she's just going to pat at that cut. She hadn't thought about it before now, but... losing his touch is actually a worse thing than she realized. ]

[purrtagonist]

Huh? Am I--

[but before he can ask his question, Rion's hand touches the lines of his jaw, and the rag dabs at the cut on his forehead. he freezes in place, putting two and two together to think ah, I must've cut myself, before the belated realization sinks in]

[her hand is on his cheek. he can see it, in the corners of his vision. but he can't feel it. there's no brush of warmth, no gentle caress that makes him want to melt, or tilt his head into her palm for more. there's nothing but cold, empty numbness]

[something funny crosses his expression, his brow furrowing, eyes slipping shut. but he falls silent and doesn't move, which allows her to easily clean his new scrape. it clots fairly quickly, sooo no bandage necessary, really]