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Haruka is dying.
He’s sure of it. This is all the weight of his past sins, his selfishness and patheticness and general unlikeability all crashing down on him with the force of karmic debt. Everything is hot, like the pits of hell, and he can’t breathe, and he’s going to die and it’s all his own fault.
Fuuta rolls his eyes. “Stop being dramatic, it’s just a virus.”
Haruka whines. “I’m so miserable,” he moans, mostly talking into his pillow.
Fuuta shoves at his shoulder. “Don’t roll over like that, you’re going to suffocate worse.”
“It’s not a virus,” Haruka insists. “I’m dying for real.”
Another sigh. Fuuta leans down and presses his lips to Haruka’s forehead. “Nah, you’ve just got a fever.”
“Noooo,” Haruka says, his voice wavering in pitch. “What are you doing?”
“Checking your temperature?” Fuuta scoffs. “I’d be a shitty big brother if I didn’t check in on you. You’re not burning up in hell, don’t worry.”
Haruka sniffles. “You don’t know that,” he says, his voice muffled as he sinks into his blankets.
“I bet you’re not even running 39,” Fuuta tells him. He hands Haruka a tissue.
Haruka blows his nose with a pout.
Unfortunately, there’s no relief from his suffering even in hell. Muu brings him all his schoolwork.
“You look like shit,” she says fondly.
“I’m dying,” Haruka croaks.
“Dying won’t get you out of precalc homework.” She bops his nose with a pencil, and Haruka sneezes, getting snot and mucus on his blankets. “Gross.”
Haruka finally sits up, if only to ball up the blanket and throw it across the room. He holds out his arms. “Give it to me,” he sighs. Muu thunks a stack of papers into his arms, and he folds, his arms falling limp onto the bed. “Aaagh.”
“I’ll help you if you shut up and take your cough medicine,” Muu says in a lofty tone.
“No way,” Haruka grumbles. “It tastes horrible.”
Muu rolls her eyes. “You’re such a child. Do it for me?” She flutters her eyelashes at him.
Haruka squints at her. “Nuh-uh.”
Muu’s eyes start to water, and she pouts. “Not even for your best friend?”
Haruka grumbles under his breath, but downs the liquid medicine, making a face at the taste.
Muu kisses the palm of her hand and pats Haruka’s cheek with it. “There we go.”
“Huh? What was that?”
“I’m not going to get sick from kissing you directly on the cheek, that’d be gross,” Muu states. “Now are we going to get this homework done or not?”
Amane comes running into his room as soon as she’s home from school, about an hour after Muu visits. Or maybe it’s five hours. Haruka can’t be bothered to tell time when it feels like he’s in the seventh circle of hell.
Fuuta had suggested he take off any one of the four blankets piled on him, but Fuuta is weird that way. He slept over once on the couch and didn’t even use one blanket.
Amane has been staring at him for the past five minutes, though, so Haruka is debating whether or not she’s weirder than Fuuta.
“If you get Bunny sick, I’ll never forgive you,” she says bluntly.
Haruka turns and looks her in the eyes, sideways and blurry. “Okay.” He knows better than to argue with Amane.
“Give me your hand,” she demands.
Haruka slowly extracts his hand from the layers of blankets, the movement sending waves of heat through his body. He curses his immune system. “Okay,” he mumbles, holding out his hand.
Amane takes his hand in both her smaller ones and plants a loud kiss on the back of it. “Get better soon!” she shouts, like a magic chant.
Haruka smiles. “What’s that you’re doing?”
“Kissing you better,” Amane huffs. “Obviously.”
“Oh, okay.” Haruka nods into his pillow. “Obviously.”
Shidou takes the thermometer out of Haruka’s mouth, and the boy’s head lolls back on the sheets, already dozing off again. “Thirty-seven,” he reports quietly. “That’s better than this morning.”
Kazui sighs with relief. “That’s good.” He leans over the bed to kiss Haruka’s forehead, then gets up and leaves the room, Shidou trailing after him and closing the door as quietly as possible.
“Sorry for keeping you here,” Kazui apologizes. “He was making such a fuss last night, I got worried.”
Shidou smiles. “You really do have parental instincts,” he observes.
Kazui rubs the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. “That’s encouraging to hear.”
“I wouldn’t have recommended you adopt Amane if I thought you were bad with kids,” Shidou says, giving Kazui a wry look.
Kazui’s face lights up subtly. “She’s doing great, actually. She got an A on a quiz today, told me all about it on the way home from school. Thanks for holding down the fort here while I picked her up, by the way.”
“I told you, you don’t have to thank me.” Shidou smiles easily. “I’m happy to help out.”
“Let me make you tea,” Kazui offers. “It’s the least I can do to be a good host.”
It’s kind of obvious that this is a ploy to get him to sit down and stay a little longer, for the two of them to talk at the kitchen table while Haruka and Amane nap and Fuuta plays games on his phone in the living room and pretends not to hear them. But Shidou can’t bring himself to mind.
“I’d love a cup of tea,” he agrees.