AN: A Pest Ban is a public declaration that someone has been infected with the plague.
This short story continues some fanon I made in GO WILD about Shalnark being able to use his phone and antenna to do health checks on his fellow spiders.
I had a hoot writing this piece! We all could go for some more of the Phantom Troupe acting like a big, adorable, dysfunctional family, am I right?
In the Phantom Troupe, without a doubt, the most meticulous about watching their health was Phinks.
When exercising, he always warmed up and cooled down with proper form. He was (usually) good with his diet, and always maintained good hydration. He always washed his hands for the full thirty seconds and carried a handkerchief in case he ever had to touch anything unsanitary.
He chided the others for their poor habits. ("Always keep your surroundings clean, if you get sick, it's your own damn fault!")
So it was divine irony that Phinks would be the one to fall so miserably sick.
Poor, poor Phinks. Whatever plagued him had struck him fast. It turned Phinks scarlet with fever and covered him with itchy blisters.
Phinks quarantined himself, fiercely adamant, threatening bearish mauling violence, that no one touch him or come near him, even to help. Whatever he had must have been contagious and it would be their fault if someone got sick after coming near him. He would endure the disease by himself, no help necessary!
This continued for four grueling days, and there was no improvement in Phinks' condition (from his incessant scratching, he now had more spots on him than a disgraced leopard). Concerned, Shalnark sought to help his stubborn comrade.
Lethargic, delirious, and sprawled in the musty corner of his dorm was how Shalnark found him.
Phinks rolled his weak beady eyes under distended lids, too weak to even threaten Shalnark's life.
Poor, poor Phinks.
Batphone in one hand, and magenta antenna in the other, Shalnark gladly offered to perform one of his Nen specialties.
"Here Phinks, I can help you. In no time at all we can figure out what's ailing you. Just give me your arm so I can perform the Health Check—"
The precise moment the bedridden spider saw the sharp tip of the antenna aimed for his arm, he bolted. Bolted so fast Shalnark's hair whipped across his face.
Shalnark ran after him ("It's easy Phinks! All you have to do is hold still!") but failed to capture him. Even lurid, trying to catch Phinks was like trying to catch a slippery eel.
So Shalnark enlisted the help of the speediest member of the Troupe.
Phinks was admittedly fast, but trying to outrun Feitan was like trying to outrun your own shadow.
Restrained by Feitan and Shalnark, Phinks tried to thrash and bat them away as the shiny needle point of the antenna approached closer and closer.
"Not that! Anything but that stupid Health Check."
"He's delirious. Spewing nonsense. We might already be too late..." said Feitan.
"Sorry, Phinks. I know you hate it, but this is for your own good," Shalnark apologized before stabbing the antenna in the crook of his elbow.
Shalnark remembered Phinks once describing the invading sensation of Manipulator Nen as being scored by bullets while your brain was being scooped out with a spoon.
The compromised Phinks wobbled drunkenly, about to land face first on the stone floor.
Feitan and Shalnark caught him and lay him gently on his back. Shalnark thumbed some buttons and fiddled with phone settings. "...there you go Phinks. I'll give you 8% self-awareness so you can watch what's going on."
Shalnark's phone beeped and the tapered eyes glowed video-game yellow. The synthetic female voice spoke. "Patient detected! Health Check initiating!"
"Thirty seconds, and then we'll know exactly what disease you have, Phinks."
"Then we can tell you how much time you have left," said Feitan.
"Now, now," Shalnark snickered. "I doubt it's anything that serious. It lists one of the detected symptoms is Rash—well that much is clear—"
"They don't pop when I press them," Feitan said, playfully poking one of the crusted sores on Phinks' exposed collar. "I was expecting gushing mini-volcanoes. Or zits with exploding pus."
Phinks lacked the ability to speak with Shalnark's antenna still perched in his elbow, so he poured every ounce of his self-awareness into a seething grimace aimed at Feitan.
"A rash could mean many things—"
"Bubonic plague? Or how about Smallpox?" Feitan's pupils swelled as big as gooseberries with horrific delight.
Shalnark massaged his throat, trying to clear a tickle in his vocal chords. "Hmm, what was the name of that red disease from that book you let me borrow? I think it was called Red Masque Of Death."
Cold perspiration exuded on Phinks' hairline.
Feitan sighed with regret. "I wish but there's no profuse bleeding from his pores." He ran a sharp fingernail in circles on the back of his hand, tending to a sudden itch.
Shalnark's phone beeped again and the robotic voice reported the check was done. "Good! Let's see what the diagnosis says. Phinks has—"
"Chickenpox," said a mellifluous voice behind them. Chrollo stood in the door frame, hands tucked into his coat pockets, taking in the scene after all the commotion.
"Ah, Danchou, we were just checking on Phinks," said Shalnark.
"I can see that," said Chrollo, bending down to palm Phinks' glistening forehead. "Might be from running away from you two, but it seems like his fever is broken so he's getting better."
Phinks finally relaxed his clenched jaw with undeniable relief.
Danchou glanced at the other two spiders. Shalnark now coughed to clear his tickled throat while Feitan continued to scratch the back of his hand.
Shalnark watched as Chrollo's face warmed. He didn't quite laugh, but he softly snorted with amusement. "Sah, I'll go to pick up some medicine."
"Isn't chickenpox a childhood ailment? How do you get it as an adult?" asked Feitan, a little deflated as if he had been robbed of more entertainment.
"Phinks was probably never vaccinated," said Chrollo. As he said this, Shalnark hacked a mucus saturated cough, and Feitan finally noticed the new rash on his hand. "Apparently, neither were the two of you."
Danchou returned that evening to three sick spiders.
The following day, Phinks had recovered enough to resume chiding his comrades for their unhealthy habits. ("This is what you get for jabbing me while I was contagious! Oh, by the way, do you want me to run a hot bath for you? It will help with the itching, which by the way is all your damn fault.")