Chapter Text
She didn't live up to it. When the next morning came around and her alarm went off, Mirai couldn't find the will to get up. Her head was still pounding fiercely, making it hard for her to even open her eyes, less get up. The moment she'd tried, her legs seemed to turn into sand and she simply fell back into bed with a huff. She could call in later. Akihito couldn't be too mad at her, right? She was sick after all.
It took nearly twenty minutes just to find a state where she could keep her eyes open. Even then, it didn't really seem worth being awake. After a moments deliberation, she snuggled back into her blanket, the blond boy flashing though her head once more before sleep wrapped around her, pulling her away.
The next time she opened her eyes, it was to the sound of a voice, or rather, someone clicking their tongue. She simply rolled over and let sleep take her once more. It wasn't so hard to ignore as it had stopped fairly quickly. It was nice, like the tick of a clock, maybe. Once more, she woke up and turned, sitting. Her mouth was dry and she let out a groan, her body stiff. Maybe the napping went a bit overboard, but at least her headache was finally going away. As she swung her legs to get off her bed, they connected with a fairly soft surface.
"I was wondering when you were going to get up, Kuriyama-san."
"S-se-senpai!" Jolting away, her back hit the wall and she kicked her pillows at him. What was he doing in her house? More importantly, why was here without permission. Didn't he have a class to be in or something? After several deep breaths, she glanced at the clock and whined.
"I could hear you stirring," he continued, standing and looking down at her. "I made tea. It's supposed to help with fevers." She hissed through grinding teeth and briefly touched her forehead once he'd stepped out, surprised at how warm she really was. Once she relaxed her jaw, vertigo hit her and she began to stand, gripping the bed frame with clammy fingers, making her way into the kitchen.
"I thought you said you'd be in today." Of course he was talking again. It was like him to go on without skirting the real issue here.
"Why are you here, Senpai?" Now she was beginning to get annoyed. All she wanted was an answer, after all.
"Huh? Oh, well I'm making sure you're still alive and well." Pause. Deliberation. "Well, I mean, of course I assumed you're not well. After all you did miss sch-" Another pause. This time, his voice hung in the air and he seemed a bit troubled.
"What is it?" She asked, almost snapping like she'd wanted to.
"Where are your glasses, Kuriyama-san?"
"Tch, pervert. I don't sleep with them on." He seemed surprised for a moment before disappearing the way she'd come, and after a moment, he came out, red spectacles in tow.
"Put them on. After all, you'll want to be able to see just how hard I've been working for you." He flashed a cheesy smile as she slipped the glasses over her nose, wiggling them into place. He nodded, clearly pleased with himself and set back to the stove, making tea in the kettle she kept above the refrigerator. He'd gone through her things as well? She almost stepped forward, objections on her lips, but noticed a small canister of tea next to him and two mugs she didn't recognize. He'd... He'd brought them? Something else passed over her and she reluctantly took a seat.
"I don't need you taking care of me, you know? I'm perfectly capable." Though she spoke firmly, a cough wracked her slender frame and Akihito laughed.
"How? Sleeping all day?" Without even turning, she knew there was a skeptical look plastered on his face. It was so typical that he'd doubt her, no matter how nice he seemed. She could only hope he'd put a bit of faith into her once day. Wouldn't it just be great? The fog on her glasses came as a bit of a surprise and she looked down, a mug of deep brown tea near her hands. Her thoughts had been spinning so quickly she hadn't even noticed him approaching. Though she wouldn't ever admit it, she appreciated the tea, or at least the thought behind it. She'd have to test the tea to make sure it was alright, though. After all, he was a pervert.
Their eyes met for a moment as she brought the mug to her lips, eyes circling the rim and then finding his gaze once more. There is was, that stupid smile once more before he was jabbering again, like a broken record.
"Drink up. It's good for you!"
Hm, if only to shut him up. Slowly, she let her lips fall apart, taking a long drink of the scalding tea, trying not to cringe as it burned her tongue. Instead, she used her amusement from watching his eyes widen as a sort of distraction. He knew it should burn her, too. Oh what having a high pain tolerance could achieve.
"There, I drank," she said, jerking her chin at him. "Now answer this: how did you get in?" Usually the front door was locked. He laughed and looked at her, eyes shining with incredulity.
"Well, I knocked for a while, then I tried the door. It was unlocked, so I figured you were up and about. Once I was inside, though, I couldn't help but notice how warm you keep it in here." The way he spoke made it all seemed so casual, breaking and entering into her house, hovering over her like she was some object, using her things. He laughed once more and she seemed to forget everything. She was under his curse, drawn from her troubles in the moment and she wished, so desperately, that she could break free from it, if only just for a moment. She didn't want to feel like she owed him. Not for taking care of her, not for anything.
"Try to call me next time. Or just don't waltz in. Either would be good alternatives." Her eyes narrowed slightly and she dropped her head, taking a slightly dejected sip of tea. Her head had begun to throb again as well as grow tight with the fever that was eating away at her. Supporting her head with her fist, she leaned closer to the table. Too tired to fight properly, so she might as well give up for now.
"Try to let me know if you're sick. Text me."
"It's not your business."
You're my bu-" His voice cut off and the silence weighed the two of them down uncomfortably.
"I'm your what?" She asked, eyes narrowing and she leaned forward. She didn't like the way that the sentence was going, not at all.
"Nothing. You're my nothing." He stood, cheeks hinting pink with shame, embarrassment, and collected his canister, dumping the full mug of tea down the sink. "Feel better. Let me know if you still don't feel better."
She simply scoffed, watching him leave, but her fingers were curled tightly around the mug. She hadn't expected it to sting. She was absolutely nothing to him? Why should she have hoped otherwise? They were just friends. Finally, she muttered something toward the cup.
"Thanks for the tea."