Kiyoharu disliked getting sick.

Ever since he was little he's had to endure headaches and stuffy noses all on his own. His parents were far too inept in the area of childcare and his father insisted that a common cold did not need any form of painkillers. So from age nine and onwards, Kiyoharu made a childish promise to never get sick again, and surprisingly, he kept said promise. Ask anyone from his childhood years up until now when they have ever seen Kiyoharu sick and very few people will be able to say a sick Kiyoharu even exists. The pain that came with being sick when he was younger was enough to scare Kiyoharu into a healthy lifestyle.

So, when he awoke on Monday with his head feeling a little fuzzy and his bones slightly aching-and that bastard has been in Korea for days now, so there wasn't that excuse-he knew that it was possible he'd have to clear up his schedule for the upcoming week. With much groaning and silent protesting, Kiyoharu made sure all his league matches were rescheduled and that the Institute cancelled on the smaller events he had planned for that week. This time it meant turning down an opportunity to visit Korea on a friendly Go retreat on the same day he started calling to reschedule things.

It wasn't a huge deal and nobody was upset by his cancelling-that is, nobody but the supposedly drop-dead gorgeous, Korean Baduk player who was calling him at the most ungodly hour at night.

In all honesty, it wasn't like Kiyoharu didn't expect Ko to call; after all, they had acquiesced to seize every opportunity to travel between their countries. However, Kiyoharu's persistent headache and stuffy nose kept him from caring the slightest when his phone was ringing. So, he let it go to voicemail, hoping that whoever it was would just drop it. Unfortunately, Kiyoharu was met with another call on his obnoxiously loud cellphone, which wasn't that loud at all, but his headache would bet on the former. He merely glanced at the caller ID, realized his screen was too bright for his current state, and quickly answered in a rushed manner, rubbing his sore and tired eyes.

"Why are you calling so fucking late at night?" Kiyoharu didn't bother with pretty words, and groaned into the phone.

A silence lingered momentarily after he spoke and Kiyoharu could only assume the other was trying to translate his jumbled Japanese.

"It is only nine." Somehow, Ko's heavily accented Japanese still managed to sound sickeningly taunting.

"Why are you calling?" Kiyoharu chose to ignore the fact Ko was right and it was only nine and he had slept through his entire Tuesday without a care in the world. His head was so insanely hurting (more than the time of the epic hangover of the Christmas Go Party of 2007) and his nose was stuffed so badly that nine at night felt like four in the morning and Ko's quiet voice sounded cacophonous to his ears.

"I heard you cancelled on the retreat." Ko sounded uncaring, switching to Korean for convenience.

"And?" Kiyoharu asked. He was too tired to think of proper sentences (in Korean nonetheless), so he settled for half-assed Japanese that probably sounds horrendous through his stuffy nose and dry throat.

"…Nothing." Ko quickly adds, "I just assumed you chickened out because you were afraid of losing to me in front of your friends."

Kiyoharu has at least enough energy in his brain and in his lungs to let out a small laugh. "I would have kicked your ass. Now, stop calling."

Kiyoharu promptly hung up without waiting for Ko's reply and clutched his pounding head in a desperate attempt to regain his sleep.

It takes only a few painful minutes to fall asleep that night, and with no plans on his mind, Kiyoharu slept through the next day as well. He only bothered to wake up once to take painkillers and shut off his phone for fear of any more disturbances. Ko was manageable, but if Shindou decided to call at one point; well, Kiyoharu could only pray his headache wouldn't worsen.

His mind was much less cloudy and much less in pain by the time he finally awoke what seemed like decades later.

Kiyoharu tiredly checked the date on his phone (after turning it on and being bombarded by thousands of missed calls from Shindou and surprisingly none from Ko), and luckily he hadn't slept through the month like his dreams had told him, but merely another day and it was now bright and early on Thursday.

He swore that every bone in his body cracked when he finally moved out of bed and onto the cold floor. Stretching his arms up and down, Kiyoharu felt all the blood beginning to circulate once more throughout his body. Sleeping for days straight made him feel rejuvenated, but the cramped bones were an unfortunate side effect. He decided that he'd never sleep for more than a day ever again.

The floor was abnormally cold, and Kiyoharu realized that he didn't bother to readjust the conditioning during the nighttime. The cold air was constantly flooding his small apartment, making it feel like wintertime in the mid-spring. His toes wiggled underneath the coldness as Kiyoharu made his way into the kitchen to grab something to eat because, unfortunately, his hibernation did not include someone coming to feed him while he slept. Showers and pampering could wait until after the growling beast was satisfied.

As he approached the kitchen, he halted in the hallway leading to the dining room and squinted at the table. It was already nicely set with soup and tea that could only have been soaked in sugar. There was a nice vase in the middle of the table with balsam pouring from the top like a cascading waterfall of purple, white and pink. Knowing that he definitely did not have a sleepwalking problem, Kiyoharu didn't need to think twice as to who prepared this meal for him. Walking lethargically over to the table, he picked up the little card that was leaning against his teacup. There were blocky letters centered on the small card with eraser markings faintly outlining the words:

I would have definitely won. - Y

It was far too much like Ko to leave a card that was the opposite of what he wanted to say. However, Kiyoharu couldn't help but smile at the very elementary Japanese, grinning from ear-to-ear at the small sign of affection that Ko would later vehemently deny was affection at all. Despite everyone's (including his) initial perception of Ko, the guy was quite caring when he wanted to be. His sneakiness is what kept him from being a saint. That and Ko was far too into scandals and trouble that his kindness was often muffled.

One glance at the teacup and Kiyoharu knew that there was sugar, whipped cream and caramel sloshed together in a "gross, child-like drink that could kill off entire nations," as Ko kindly put it once. The soup was covered with plastic and still felt slightly hot, indicating that Ko couldn't have left long ago.

Kiyoharu's smile didn't falter; his heart was admittedly overflowing a little more than he'd ever like to admit. He glanced at the flowers and lightly ran his fingers over one of the purple petals. His thumb ran into the little information card that was hanging around one of the stalks. He carefully yanked it off the stalk, making sure the flowers didn't snap, and read the little tidbits on the flower.

Immediately, he was running down the hallway towards his room, diving onto his bed in search of his cellphone. Kiyoharu nearly tossed it out the window in his rush, but managed to regain his balance and composure before he had to explain why exactly his phone ended up being flung out of the fifth story window. He quickly pressed the second speed dial button (courtesy of Ko who thought it was stupid to go to his phonebook all the time) and waited for the other end to pick up.

He impatiently tapped his knee, mumbling for the Korean to hurry up and pick up the fucking phone. Usually Ko would pick up on the second ring, but for once, he was taking his sweet time. Typical, Kiyoharu thought.

"Hello, chi-"

"Ardent love?" Kiyoharu quickly cut Ko off before he could finish his irritating greeting.

"Ah. I see you're still alive then. How did you like the surprise?" Even through the phone Kiyoharu could see Ko's smirk.

"It was lovely; especially considering I haven't eaten anything in two days. But the flowers?"

"I thought it was very fitting. Don't you think?"

"You're fucking ridiculous." There was no bite in Kiyoharu's words and he began to laugh into the receiver.

"Well, at least you're sounding better." Ko murmured.

"Were you by any chance worried, Ko Yongha?" Kiyoharu sounded sly and teasing, utilizing Ko's entire name.

A perfectly expected scoff came from the other side and Ko said, "I was. This is why you need to stop getting yourself into unfavorable situations."

Now that was unexpected. Ko, no matter what circumstances, and no matter what mood, never ever admitted to being worried or emotionally attached to Kiyoharu. His policy was that during intimate moments, whatever flies out does, but otherwise, he controls his words with harsh precision. It took Ko ages before he even dared to call what they had going on a relationship. Yet, there he was, unmistakably saying he was worried about Kiyoharu. And the sly dig at the end was undoubtedly him telling Kiyoharu to take care of himself.

"K-Ko are you-"

"I have to go now. You interrupted me on my way to a match here in Tokyo. I'll be home later." Ko cut Kiyoharu off and hung up.

Kiyoharu shut his phone off, smiling softly at the number as the end call alert popped up. Before he got too sentimental over Ko's phone number, Kiyoharu sat down to enjoy his breakfast, wishing Ko a quiet, and probably needless, good luck.

He curiously wondered when it got to be their home and when did Ko start doing kind things for Kiyoharu, even if his words didn't always agree with the notions. Kiyoharu took a sip of his tea (perfectly sweetened to hell and back) and decided it was better not to think too deeply into the circumstances. He was happy, and that was probably good enough.