-1Disclaimer: You know the usual; I don't own Saint Seiya, wish I did, or at the very least guys that cute existed, yadda yadda. Wait, did I type that last part? Hee.
CHICKEN POX
BY Niteskye
Camus, the Gold Saint of Aquarius, stretched. Another day, another training session. He hopped out of bed and put on his standard sleeveless tee, black pants, and leg warmers. He listened for the murmurings of his two students who usually were up before him doing their morning chores. The cabin was silent. The he heard a loud thunk and Issac's admonishing voice. "Hyoga! Stop scratching and help me get this wood!"
"But Issac! I can't help it! I itch every where!" Hyoga whined.
Camus opened the door to his room. Both of the young trainees looked up. Camus grimaced. Both of them were covered in red spots. They also had a flush of fever. "Oh boys." he said. They waited to see if he would reprimand them.
He put the back of his hand to Hyoga's forehead. Hyoga's skin was hot to the touch, and Issac looked just as bad. He sighed. "You two get back to bed. You have the chicken pox."
Issac wrinkled up his nose. "But we have to train! A little itching shouldn't stop us!" Behind him, Hyoga looked like he thought differently.
Camus shook his head. "But it's more then a little itching. You two have fevers as well, and any of us Gold Saints will tell you that it is unwise to fight with a fever. The best you can do is get well. Right Hyoga?"
"Um, right Master Camus." Hyoga said with a grin. Camus gave them a paternal smile and shoved them off toward the room they shared.
"You two hop back into bed. I'm going out to get some supplies." He watched them as the door to their room closed. He sighed and tried to see if he could remember what was needed to treat chicken pox. His memory wasn't forthcoming, but he knew that one of the matrons in the nearest town would know.
He walked into the freezing cold of Siberia. It was one of those rare sunny days and would have been perfect for training or just letting them run around. Or at least trying to get them to run around; Issac was forever making Hyoga spar with him even when Camus told them to just play for a little while. Nothing wrong with it, it was just that Camus didn't think either of them really need to train every single moment. Saint trainees didn't get much down time, but they did get it.
When in town he visited the general store. He decided to ask the lady at the counter, who apparently knew him, about chicken pox treatment. "Chicken pox Mr. Camus? Why yours too hunh? It's been going around; my little Jacob had it last week. All you need is some calamine for the itching and aspirin for the fever. Just don't let them scratch their skin off and they'll be fine in no time!" She walked over to the shelves and gave him several bottles of children's aspirin and tubes of calamine lotion.
Camus read the instructions on the pack, and then nodded. "Thank you."
"And tell your sons I said hello!"
Camus did a double take. "Sons?"
The lady looked surprised. "Yes, aren't Issac and little Hyoga your sons? They look a lot like you."
Camus stood there and stared at the woman. "Who said they're my sons?" he asked slowly and deliberately.
"Oh, no one, but the resemblance tipped me off."
Camus decided not to try and straighten it out since he had already been gone a half hour, and who knew what those two hellions would get into while he was gone. He paid for the purchase and began the journey back to his cabin. He spent the entire trip thinking about what the woman had said. Did Issac and Hyoga really look like him? Well Issac sort of did, and Hyoga did have similar eyes . . .
He entered the completely silent cabin. A little unwanted spark of fear went through him. Camus set down the bag he had and tried not to rush to the boys' room. Several of the trainees he'd had before had fallen ill, and most died of the illness. Once he had gone into town to fetch some medicine, and had returned to a scene similar to this. The trainee had died in the hour it had taken him to make the round trip.
The trainee was new, so Camus had only felt a small twinge of remorse. It had been like the death of a distant relative he didn't know he had. These two were special because they not only survived their first year with him; they had the courage to face the harsh training. He didn't want to walk in to find them dead in their beds.
Camus opened the door. The small squeak made Hyoga and Issac lift their heads from under the covers. Camus inwardly sighed with relief. They'd only been dozing. Hyoga gave Camus a soulful look with his big, blue eyes. "Master Camus, could you get me a cold drink of water?"
Camus went and fetched the water. He gave it to Hyoga along with the prescribed dose of medicine. Little did he know, that would become the pattern of the next few days.
"Master Camus!"
"Master Camus!"
"Maaster Caamus!"
By the end of the third day, he was ready to shoot himself. They were driving him insane! All they did was whine! Finally, the Saint of Aquarius got fed up with them. "HUSH!" he yelled. Both boys immediately ducked under their blankets as if to hide from his wrath.
He sighed. The boys were just miserable and swimming in calamine lotion. He had threatened to tie Hyoga up if he didn't stop scratching. The poor little blond had used his puppy dog eyes to get Camus into a better mood, but the threat still stood. "You two wait here."
Camus sprinted up to his room. He threw open the trunk at the end of his bed and began to dig through the treasure trove of books it held. "Hum . . . Deathmask's cookbook . . . Milo's copy of Jurassic Park . . . Aphrodite's Valdemar books . . . Mu's tome on herbal medicine . . . That book on meditation Shaka gave me for my last birthday . . . Ah ha! Here's that old fairy tale book!" He took another look at all of the other books. "And I have to remember to give back all these books."
He returned to the boys' room and sat down on Issac's bed. Hyoga climbed up and sat next to him. Issac crowded his other side. Camus opened up the book to one of his favorite stories. It was "The Ugly Duckling". He read it to them and as the story progressed, he felt their breathing slow down. He also felt tired as well. None of them had gotten much sleep the last couple of nights. He was almost finished with the rather short story when he realized that both we deeply asleep. He finished the story anyway, and looked down at his two charges.
They were peaceful in sleep. They were little hellions that had run him ragged when they were awake, but they were like little angels when they were asleep. Camus smiled at them fondly. He brushed a strand of hair out of Issac's face. Both of them had grown on him. He realized that the woman in the store was partly right, these two were his family. They were his students, but they also felt like his little siblings or maybe even his own sons. He would do anything for them, right down to dying for them. A small chill of foreboding went down his spine, but he ignored it. Camus smiled even as his eyelids drooped.
Mu shivered. Tibet had nothing on this cold, even high up in the Himalayas. The Pope had asked him to come check on Camus since the Saint had missed his deadline for reporting in. Mu knocked on the door of the cabin, but there was no answer. He opened the door slowly. "Camus? Camus, it's me, Mu." He heard no answer.
Mu looked around. The cabin was small and homey. There was evidence that something akin to a family lived here. Mu had the fanciful thought that he could almost feel the love that the little dwelling imparted. He saw a door cracked open, and went to investigate. The sight on the other side of the door would have warmed any heart.
Camus, Issac, and Hyoga were all asleep together on one of the beds. Camus' head was leaning back against the headboard, and both of the boys' heads were on his thighs. One of Camus' hands was on Issac's head, the other was on Hyoga's back. A book lay across the Aquarius Saint's lap.
Mu smiled even bigger when he saw that Issac and Hyoga were both covered in little read spots. The Aries Saint shook his head. Chicken pox.
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I got inspired to write this after reading Naotoki's "The Week". I sort of imagined what I would act like if I had to care for my little nieces and nephew if they were sick. As for the choice of stories, it was the first that came to mind for obvious reasons. Hee.
And look for more fluffy stuff. When I write one one-shot, I find that cannot stop, so I'm going to go ahead and make this one story since I already have an idea for a little Mu and Kiki fluff. It starts out as a one-shot, then becomes a story because I'm too lazy to start a new story for every new one-shot I write. Hee. Please review!
