re-watched my old DVDs of Slam Dunk, it was really hilarious. how i missed hanamichi and the gang. however, this is ryochin-centered. :) i hope you enjoy reading as much as i enjoyed writing this piece of (non)fluff kekeke..

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Miyagi Ryota had a cold, one that came from behind the court to bite him in the ass and make him miserable. He had a cold...and the most frightening bedside companion. Ever.

"Stop sniffling."

*sniff*

"Ryota," Ayako intoned patiently as she turned to glance at him. "Stop sulking at me."

"This is the most aggravating situation I have managed to land myself in," he declared weakly as he adjusted his covers. However, seeing the glint in her eyes that told otherwise, he amended hastily, "Micchy's birthday party doesn't count!"

Ayako arched her eyebrows in amusement. She briefly remembered drunken outbursts and insolent remarks and the inevitable fist fight. The Delinquent Army. "And why, pray tell, does it not?"

"Because I wasn't sober enough to remember it," came the grudging reply.

She shrugged and pressed the bowl of soup in front of him. "But I was, enough to deal with the mess..."

"Aya-chan!"

"...as per usual. You boys are just so full of it."

"Hey! It was Captain who did most of the heaving," he mumbled, aggrieved. "It's not like it's my fault idiot Rukawa and Hanamichi went at it again and started the whole thing—"

"I see you remember enough," Ayako cut in wryly, and Miyagi said no more. "Anyways, enjoy your soup. I'm going out for a while..."

"Eh, Aya-chan?"

He watched her leave and soon he had drifted into sleep. He had no sooner than closed his eyes, so it seemed, when a stack of paper dropped into his lap and startled him awake. He blinked owlishly, and tried to focus on the face of a serious-looking Ayako.

"What's this?"

"Aha, Miyagi Ryota, surely you haven't forgotten what homework looks like?"

"That's not—" he glared at her accusingly. "It's that—I'm sick! I'm not supposed to be doing anything now!"

"Really."

Damn her stupid flat tone.

"Yes! I'm dying here!" he waved his hands in the air, as if to demonstrate his point.

"Due all respect, Mr. Brilliant Point Guard, I'm not gonna let you ruin our chances of being declared champion with your rotten grades. How many times do I have to tell you lot? If you fail your subjects, Captain Akagi will murder you."

"But Aya-chan..."

She turned and gave him a vicious looking smile. A nasty one, too, one that warned him of a bop on the head with a folded newspaper if he proved too difficult to handle.

"But... but..." he was sick...and close to start whining.

"Your own fault, too, for not scheduling this." She waved a dismissing hand and turned back to the stack of papers even as she scowled a bit at herself.

Miyagi was incredulous. "Oh, so now I should have scheduled a cold?"

"Yes," she smiled condescendingly at him. "Hanamichi Sakuragi does."

Miyagi Ryota stared at her for a long moment before sighing in defeat. There were things, he had come to understand, that he would have to deal with, in sickness and in health.

He just wished homework was not one of them.

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