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Fuyumi lay curled on her futon, a fluffy purple blanket tucked up to her chin. Outside, the sky was in turmoil, thunder and wind battling fiercely for control. Rain lashed against the windows, slamming with enough force to strip tree branches bare and plaster their leaves across the soaked glass.
Sighing, Fuyumi rolled over and snuggled a little deeper into her blankets. She wasn’t sure what had woken her, but the thunderous battle outside seemed the most probable culprit. If it was one of her brothers, she surely would have heard yelling by now. At least this way she could go back to sleep.
Curling up a little tighter, she closed her eyes and relaxed into the warm covers. It was nice being inside while it rained. Everything felt extra warm and safe with the wind howling just beyond the glass.
She was just beginning to drift off again when a sudden tap came from her half-closed door. Immediately she was fully awake.
“Natsu, you better not’ve broken the microwave again…” she grumbled, sitting up and pushing mottled hair away from her face. When no reply came, she glanced suspiciously over to the door. Silence usually indicated something was not right, and in this case, it probably meant Natsuo had done far worse than damage the microwave.
She straightened with a huff and made her way across the room, bare feet silent against the woven flooring. Pulling the door open, she opened her mouth to scold Natsuo, but was instead met with a pair of tearful, heterochromatic eyes.
“Yumi?”
Fuyumi frowned, worry seeping into her tired brain. She leaned forward, trying to get a better look at her little brother’s face.
“Shoto? What’s going on? Did you have a bad dream?”
The kid sniffled and shook his head. His shoulders shook slightly, sending shivers travelling down his small frame. He stared up at Fuyumi with wide eyes, clutching a stuffed cat to his chest. “I don’t feel good.”
The words were so soft, Fuyumi barely caught them over the howl of the wind outside, but Shoto’s trembling frame was enough to hint that something wasn’t right.
She hummed in sympathy, stepping back a few paces and motioning for Shoto to come further into her room.
He took a few shuffling steps forward, eyes drifting to the floor.
Fuyumi bent down and brushed the back of her hand against Shoto’s forehead. It was warm, but that wasn’t unusual for someone with a fire quirk and Shoto’s quirk tended to go haywire when he was upset or scared. “What doesn’t feel good?” she prompted gently.
Shoto swallowed, eyes filling with fresh tears. He shook his head, gripping the stuffed cat up to his chin.
Fuyumi sighed. This wasn’t going to be as easy as she thought. Shoto had always been quiet about his feelings, especially when he was sick or scared.
“Does your head hurt?” she asked. When Shoto got overwhelmed, yes and no questions tended to work better. It was a little slow, but at least that way she could figure out what was bothering him.
Shoto hesitated, chewing nervously on his lip before giving a tentative nod.
“Okay, anything else? What about your stomach?”
Another nod, this time followed by a soft hiccup. A tear slid down Shoto’s cheek and he sniffled. “I th-threw up,” he whispered, voice breaking on a silent sob.
Fuyumi’s heart sank. A sick Shoto was bad enough, but if this was a stomach thing, they were in for a rough night, especially if a fever was involved.
“Aw, Sho, don’t cry. You’re gonna be okay,” she soothed. First order of business was to keep him calm, then she could worry about damage control. “Did you just wake up feeling sick?”
Shoto swallowed, hunching over slightly as he nodded. His cheeks had lost every hint of remaining colour and his eyes were wide and fearful.
Fuyumi watched as his body shuddered then went ridged. By the time she realised what was about to happen, Shoto was already vomiting all down his front.
He let out a half sob, half gag, staring down at himself in horror.
Without thinking, Fuyumi snatched one of the blankets from her bed and shoved it under Shoto’s face just in time to catch the next round of puke.
He was openly crying now, harsh sobs catching on each gag.
“Shh, shh you’re okay.” Fuyumi dumped the soiled blanket on the floor and pulled Shoto into her arms, hugging him gently. “Just breathe, Sho.” She lay a hand on his back, keeping him tilted over the quilt in case he had to be sick again. It wasn’t the best solution, but Shoto had never had much control when he was sick and she doubted they would have made it to the bathroom. Better to keep the mess contained to one room.
“There you go, just get it all up. You’re okay,” she soothed. In truth, she didn’t really know what to do. Shoto was sobbing violently and now that he was pressed against her, she could feel the heat radiating off his small frame. Still, she needed to stay calm for him, so she swallowed her fear and continued to rub his back and whisper what she hoped were gentle reassurances.
It was a while before Shoto finally stopped gagging, but after a time, his sobs started to taper off and he slumped against her side.
Fuyumi pulled him into a hug, brushing back his sweaty hair and kissing the top of his head. “You feeling a little better, Sho?”
He shrugged, letting out a quiet whimper. “Stomach still hur’s.”
She sighed sympathetically, combing her fingers through his hair. “Yeah, I bet it does.”
He turned wide, tear-filled eyes to her. “Can I sleep in your bed tonight?”
“Of course, Sho. Let’s get you cleaned up a bit first though.”
“Kay.” Shoto snuggled against her, allowing himself to be led down the hall into the bathroom.
Fuyumi helped her brother sit down on the closed toilet seat before moving to start running a bath. Shoto had somehow managed to get himself covered in vomit, so there was no way they could get away without at least a quick bath.
While the tub filled, Fuyumi hurried to her brother’s room to grab some clean pyjamas and a couple of towels. When she returned, Shoto was curled up on the bathmat, eyes closed. She couldn’t help but smile at the adorable sight, but as much as she hated to wake him up, there was no way she was letting him into her bed without a bath.
“Shoto,” she called softly, shaking him gently.
“Go ‘way,” he mumbled, swatting blindly at the offending hand.
“You need to get up and take a bath. Come on, you’ll feel much better once you’re clean. Promise.”
Shoto groaned, but sat up slowly, blinking groggily up at her. “But ‘m tired,” he whined, pouting.
“And you’re also covered in vomit,” she teased, but her words were gentle.
Ignoring his pouty expression, Fuyumi helped Shoto remove his clothes and lifted him into the bath. Once in the tub, he just sat there, staring down at the water sleepily.
Fuyumi grabbed some shampoo and quickly washed Shoto’s hair, careful not to get any suds in his eyes. She worked quickly to clean him up, and within ten minutes, he was sitting on the bath mat, wrapping in a fluffy towel and nodding off against the edge of the bathtub.
“No sleeping yet, Sho,” she teased, nudging him gently. “We gotta get you in bed. It’s much more comfortable than the bathroom floor.
“Your bed?” Shoto asked hopefully, giving her wide, puppy dog eyes.
“Of course.” She helped him into the clean pyjamas before scooping him into her arms and carrying him back to her bedroom.
She got Shoto tucked into the blankets, then turned her attention to the mess on her bedroom floor. This wasn’t her first time cleaning up vomit, so it didn’t take her long to take care of the mess. Both Touya and Natsuo shared their littlest brother’s inability to make it to the bathroom when sick, so she had gotten very efficient at cleanup. Endeavour wasn’t very welcoming when it came to sick kids, so her brothers always came to her when they were ill.
Once she had cleaned up and put the dirty sheets in the washing machine, Fuyumi was startled by a soft voice coming from the mound of blankets on her bed.
“Yumi?” Shoto called, peaking his little head over the covers to blink sadly at her. “Are you comin’ t’ bed?”
Fuyumi smiled, her heart warming at the hopeful expression on her brother’s face. “Yep, just let me turn off the light.” She flicked off the switch and crawled into bed.
Shoto sighed and cuddled up next to her, resting his head on her chest.
She smiled, carding her fingers through his hair. “Rest well, little Sho,” she whispered, and leaned over to kiss his forehead.