Me, justifying my current obsession to my past self: "Look, I can explain."

Question.

Is it possible for zombies to get sick?

Hard to say. Ever since Sakura's been science'd/magic'd/revived back from the dead to live again, she's found out that her undying body is more or less indestructible. Sure there's the odd limb that falls off at inappropriate times or the unnaturally twisted neck that makes everyday unlife inconvenient, but nothing incapacitating, per se. Short of total and utter obliteration, she's pretty sure that nothing, nothing can bring this zombie idol down.

Nothing... except the common cold.

Who da thunk?

Sakura blinks blearily at the electronic thermometer in her hands. 0 C° reads the digital display. That's a little... well, that's a lot concerning actually. Do thermometers even work properly on the living dead? She pops it back in her mouth and waits for it to beep again. When she takes it out, the number's changed.

-7 C°

Well, that answers that. With a groan, Sakura tosses the thermometer onto her bed stand and rolls over, wincing as her back hits the cold, sweaty patch on her sheets. Urrghhh, groooooossssssss. Why do zombies need to sweat in the first place? It should be impossible by the undead definition of life, but here she is, lying in bed, sick, sweaty and very, very gross.

I fall asleep one time in the tub reading Sagazine Idol, she thinks, staring lifelessly up at the ceiling. One time! And now it feels like a four-wheeler ran me over. Again. And then backed up to make sure it finished the job. Because you know, zombie. Wow, do I get morbid when I'm sick. Or is that the cough syrup talking?

Out of the corner of her eye, she swears she sees a chibi Kotaro-san dressed as the Drive-in Tori mascot suddenly appear out of nowhere. He struts across the comforter, straight up to her face and smartly puts his hands (or is it wings?) on his hips (chickens do have hips...right?).

"And how are we feeling today Patient Zero?" he asks, and then snickers. "Get it? 'Cuz you're the first ever zombie dumb enough to get sick, eh, eh? God I'm funny." He wipes at the corner of his eyes, oblivious to the pained look Sakura shoots him.

Definitely the cough syrup.

"Anyway, this is your friendly neighborhood hallucination telling you to get better soon, or we're giving all your single spots to THE LEGENDARY TAE YAMADA™. And there's a fifty-fifty chance she either kills it or eats the audience or maybe even both soooooooo..." he trails off, letting the implications speak for themselves. He sidles up next to her ear, adopting a tone appropriate for a funeral goer wishing condolences to the bereaved. "It's the plague, isn't it?"

"It's -achoo!- s'not the plague."

"Which is exactly what someone with the plague would say, ha! Not today, maiden of disease, be cleansed, cleansed I say!" Drive-in Kotaro reaches into his chicken suit and begins pelting her with salt. Luckily, Drive-In Kotaro and his salt are only figments of her cold-induced imagination. Not so lucky is how faithfully he's represented, right down to the obnoxious laugh.

"Great, thanks," she mumbles. Maybe if she closes her eyes, her brain will stop supplying these horrifying visions. "Anything else?"

"Just one thing. Stop talking to yourself, you nut. Crazy people can't be idols, duh."

But zombies can? Sakura thinks to herself. Aloud, she says, "Thanks, I'll remember that."

"You better, ya dumb zombie. Necromanager out!"

Drive-in Kotaro pops out of existence, leaving her to blessed peace and quiet. Maybe now, she'll be able to catch some shut-eye. She pulls the covers over her head, ready to put the hallucination behind her and drift off.

Something hits her door.

That better be an actual person and not another hallucination, or I'm giving up fever medication forever.

"Yo, Egghead!" calls a familiar voice and Sakura rolls her eyes, even as her lips curl upwards in recognition. "Ya better not be naked in there 'cuz I'm coming in like, five seconds, 'kay, one, two, five!"

The door is kicked open with a loud bang! and Saki swaggers in, sans makeup and a toothy grin plastered on her face as her colorful ponytail bobs along with each forceful step. The grin falters when she sees Sakura lying despondently in bed, and for a brief instant, a look of concern flashes across her face before she hides it behind a familiar smirk.

"Well hell, ya can't be feeling that crap if your still wearin' everythin'."

A blatant remark like that would typically have Sakura a stammering, stuttering mess of a zombie, much to her girlfriend's amusement. But not today. Today all she can muster out is a weak huff. "That wasn't five seconds."

Saki scoffs and makes her way over to the desk. "What and miss everythin'?" she asks sarcastically, grabbing the chair at her desk. She swings it around and straddles it, propping her chin with a careless hand. "No thanks, Egghead."

"You're terrible."

"Nah. I'm Saki," she says, punctuating the statement with a grin so big and so cheesy that Sakura can't help but giggle because awful dad jokes will never, ever be funny, not in a million years, not unless it's Saki who's telling them.

A few seconds later and her giggles turn into another coughing fit that racks her entire body. Oof. Is this what they mean when they say coughing up a lung? She's pretty sure that she's coughing up a lung right about now, which would be bad. Those need to be inside of her, thank you very much.

When she finally catches her breath again, enough so that she can open her eyes, Saki is staring back at her, biting the inside of her cheek. The grin's wiped clean off her face.

Well, that won't do at all. Sure seeing the biker girl acting all worried and nervous is really sweet and adorable and some other words that Sakura'll never admit out loud because she doesn't have a death- er, undeath wish, but the expression that her girlfriend is making, well, it just squeezes a little too tightly at her heart.

" 'm'okay." Her voice catches on the last syllable, so she clears her throat and tries again. "I'm okay." She reaches out from under the covers, offering her hand and smiles slightly when the other zombie latches on instantly. "It's just a lil' cold is all. I'll be up for morning practice tomorrow."

Some of the tension in Saki's posture leaves. Wordlessly, she reaches over with her free hand and gently brushes the sweaty bangs out of her face. It's an uncharacteristically sweet gesture, but Sakura refrains from saying anything. Instead, she closes her eyes and lets her girlfriend have a rare moment of open affection. A soft whimper escapes her throat as blessedly cool fingers ghost across her cheeks, and she tries fruitlessly to lean further into the touch. Oooooh, but if that doesn't feel just heavenly.

"Ya look like crap," Saki remarks gruffly, as she continues to brush her forehead softly. Ah, there's the Saki she knows. Rough and rude and enough heart to share that'd it give Lilly's a run for its money.

"I feel like it," she grumbles and feels Saki squeeze her hand sympathetically. Being sick when she was alive was an inconvenience. Now that she's dead? Utter tragedy. "Ughhhh, how do we even get catch colds in the first place?"

Saki shrugs helplessly. "Hell if I know. But I brought'cha a lil' somethin' to make ya feel better though. Ta-da!"

Something light is placed on her blanket. Sakura cracks open an eye. It takes a good few seconds of squinting before the characters on the box solidify into familiar katakana. "Saganship... Z?" The blocky blue letters flash back at her, dredging up memories of their show in Ureshino... and other less pleasant memories of the ensuing chaos at the hot springs.

She glances disapprovingly back at her girlfriend, who has the actual gall to look away and begin innocently whistling off-key. "Where did you even get these?"

"Ah, we got a buncha left over from the show, plus, Shades put our address down on the mailing list, so we get like, a crapton of free samples every month." Saki picks up a packet with her thumb and index finger and wiggles it enticingly beneath her nose, enabler that she is. "I think they're tryna get rid of them 'cuz of bad press. Somethin' about 'em bein' highly addictive or some other shit."

"And you thought slapping a few of them on me when I'm sick would be okay?"

"Well yeah but... lemme put it like this, not like ya can get any deader, am I right?" At her exasperated sigh, Saki holds up her hands. "Just sayin'! 'Sides, you look like ya could use a pick me up. C'mon, just a couple!" she wheedles with a beseeching look that would've put puppies out of business. For being a self-proclaimed badass, she's got the hopeful pouty look down to an exact science. "Whaddya say?"

Sometimes, Sakura feels that she is the entire two brain cells plus restraint of their relationship and hoo boy, is she failing those two brain cells right now because the way her girlfriend is looking at her, she's actually considering it. For the sake of her health, she should say no, because who knows how her body will react to them when she has the undead cold? But on the other hand...

Well, technically, she is already dead.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmfine" she relents, and Saki lets out a triumphant whoop. "Just...try not to go overboard, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, ya got it, princess." The other zombie is already eagerly tearing open a packet with her teeth, a very unfortunate image considering her lack of makeup, canines and red pupils but Sakura lets it slide. "W'ere it sore tha' moft?"

"Um. Stomach. Forehead. Back." She thinks a bit longer before just gesturing helplessly to herself. "Everywhere."

Saki makes a sympathetic noise. "Yeesh, that's rough. Here. Lift your shirt."

Sakura splutters, the tip of her nose turning a pale turquoise color and the biker girl gives her a cheeky smirk. "So I can put one on your stomach, jeez, get'cher mind outta the gutter, girl."

"You don't even have the medical license to put those on me," she mumbles with a pout as Saki hops onto her bed. Still, she lifts her pajamas a fraction, trying not to shiver as cool the air of the room hits her exposed midriff.

"I got a bikers license. That sorta kinda counts."

"How?"

"Because I busted my ass off to pass that test, that's how." Saki grouses, sticking a patch onto her shoulder. "'Sides, why the hell do I need a doctor's note to slap on a hot-n-cold patch on my girl, a monkey could do- why are ya smiling like that?"

Sakura quickly schools her expression. "Am not," she says, a little too fast.

"Ya totally were! It's the same kinda smile ya make when Ai whispers somethin' all lovey-dovey inta Juunko's ear when she thinks no one's looking -oh." A grin oh so smug spreads across Saki cheeks. "Ohhhh, I get it."

Sakura groans, burying her face in her hands. Maybe she can pass off how warm her face feels because of the cold?

...Yeah, no, not happening.

"Can we pretend this conversation never happened ever?"

"Awww but why? It's cute as shit." At her mortified whimper, Saki relents, with just a hint of impishness. "Fine, fine, but all bets are off when you're better." She rips open another pack and gestures. "Turn over," she says, before adding cheekily, "my girl."

Sakura groans again as the sound of her girlfriend laughing fills up the room.

Despite the teasing, warm relief finally begins to seep into Sakura's bones as her girlfriend continues to add patches here and there. Her body still feels like lead, but it's bearable, what with Saki's careful attention. For the spots that are too small for the patches, Saki takes it on herself to lightly massage the areas with a surprising amount of tenderness, and it's- honestly, it's just the sweetest thing (that she'll never admit out loud since Saki'd rather die again than admit to being any type of cute.

But it is so, so, so, cute.)

Still, she could get used to this rare side of her girlfriend. Not that she doesn't appreciate brash and confident Saki, who takes her breath away with her confidence and devil may care attitude. But sweet and gentle Saki? That's the kind of girlfriend that makes Sakura want to dive into her pillow and make funny noises and kick her feet up and down as she tries to fight the butterflies back down.

Saki slips a patch right in the small of her back, and she lets out a particularly appreciative sigh as it makes contact. Oooooooh, that's the spot. At this rate, she might actually get addicted. Wouldn't that be a first, ha. A zombie addicted to fatigue patches.

The biker girl suddenly lets out an awkward cough, and Sakura notices that her hands have frozen in place. "Yeah, don't do that again, if ya can help it."

"Do what?"

"That noise just now," she says, and now Sakura can hear the odd strain in her voice. "It was, uhhh, kinda... kiiiiiiiinda hot."

… Aaaaaaaand on the very rare occasion that stupid, shameless Saki makes an appearance, she always, always makes Sakura feel like digging a hole and burying herself in it because Sakiiiiiiiii.

"Why do I even like you again?" Sakura mumbles, hiding her face in her pillow.

"Because I'm one hell of a girlfriend," her girlfriend says, without an ounce of shame, and Sakura tosses the pillow at her. "Awww, don't be a weenie! Here." She tugs her over, plopping Sakura's head into her lap and fixes her with a self-satisfied grin as if this makes up for all of the earlier mortifications. "There! Am I jus' the best or what?"

"Or what."

"Oi, you wanna die, punk?"

Sakura sticks her tongue out, dodging the flick aimed her way with a laugh, and buries her face into the folds of her girlfriend's skirt. Up close, she can make out a slight earthy scent clinging to the fabric, a side-effect of being undead, and a hint of what she's sure is a mix of motor oil and sweat.

Which frankly, should be kinda, a little gross. Except, it's not. It's...

Oh boy. When did she start finding the scent of motor oil and sweat to be comforting, of all things?

Just blame it all on the cough syrup.

A series of quiet clicks and electronic chirps fill in the silence as the biker girl begins playing with her Tamagotchi, cooing softly to it like a proud parent. Her other hand threads through Sakura's hair, idly playing with the strands and aaaaaaah, the way her nails brush at just the right spot on her scalp. Involuntarily, her body gives a little shiver.

Too bad her pillow's on the floor. She'd definitely be making the stupid noises right now if she had her way. She'll just have to settle for closing her eyes and letting the warmth wrap her up.

There's a sad electronic peep and Saki suddenly shifts, cursing softly, causing Sakura to crack open an eye.

"Crap, sorry. Didn't mean to wake you up." Saki's face appears in her vision, peering down. Her colorful hair falls in waves, the tips tickling her cheeks.

"S'okay." The Tamagotchi makes another sad peep, followed by more electronic chirping. "Did something happen to Princess Maskutchi?"

"Maskutchi Mk-II," Saki corrects absently, and Sakura has to resist rolling her eyes, but she lets the biker girl have this one because it's a losing battle for all sides. She pockets the device and shrugs. "Nah, just bein' a bit fussy s'all. Nothin' a lil tough lovin' won't fix."

Good enough reason for her. With a yawn, she turns over, reburying herself into the warmth. "Mmmm'kay. But don't let our egg child die of neglect, okay," she mumbles into Saki's skirt, completely missing the goofy grin that appears on her girlfriend's face. A thought occurs to her and she lifts her head again, blinking groggily at her desk clock. "How long have you been here? Don't you have to be in practice right now?"

Saki thinks about it for a second, then shrugs, devil may care. "Ah, they're all big girls, 'cept for shrimpy, and if they don't like it, well I'm the leader, so tough," she says in a brazen huff, before glancing down at her. "Unless ya want me to scram? I can go if ya need some quiet or-"

"No." The answer comes out instantly and instinctively. Any other day, she would've been the responsible girlfriend, but today, she is the sick girlfriend. And as the sick girlfriend, she wants to stay in bed, wrap herself in a blanket burrito and have Saki pamper her rotten because it's what the universe owes her for being dead and sick.

"Stay," she orders, rubbing her face into her girlfriend's skirt. Her pajamas are going to smell like an engine for the rest of the day but that's what washers and dryers are for. After a second, she adds, "Cuddle," because if Saki's going to skip practice to look after her, well then, she can at least make herself useful.

"O-oh." Even with her eyes closed, she can sense the faintly embarrassed, faintly pleased note in the biker girl's voice. If Sakura were more awake, she'd be having a little celebration for throwing the other zombie off her confident stride. Oh well. Another time then.

"Sure. I mean, yeah, we can-yeah, we can do that. Jus' lemme..."

A bit of shifting and shuffling happens. Saki shimmies under the covers before offering her arm as a pillow. Sakura ignores it, opting instead to nuzzle her way into the crook of Saki's neck, where it's even warmer. A satisfied sigh escapes her lips. Mm, home sweet home.

Saki let's out a soft chuckle. "Needy much?"

"Mmm, less talking, more cuddling."

"Sure, sure. Sweet dreams, egghead."

Eyes still closed, she reaches over and smacks Saki on the arm. A second later and she gives in to the smile as she feels laughter bubbles up from her girlfriend's chest.

"Sorry, sorry, couldn't help it," Saki says, brushing her lips against her forehead in the way of apology. "Love ya, girl," she adds, almost as an afterthought

There's a pause, and then her girlfriend suddenly stiffens. "I...uhhhh... craaaaaap." Something close to unadulterated terror creeps into her voice. "Crap crap crap crap. Listen, can ya, like, pretend ya didn' hear that last part?"

Sakura huffs. What part of less talking, more cuddling does she not understand? "No," she mumbles, a little petulantly, already feeling the soft folds of drowsiness sapping away the last of her consciousness. They can talk about this later when she's not a blanket burrito. "Don't wanna... wanna sleep now kaaaaay thanks."

"Listen, girl, I'll let'cha conk out for as long as ya like if ya promise not to remember this conversation when ya wake up, okay?"

Okay fine, guess we talk about this now. Sakura lifts her head to give her girlfriend a mulish squint. "But whyyyyyy?"

"Why?" The other zombie's jaw furiously works up and down but no words come out. Sakura can practically hear the gears turning in her girlfriend's brain. "Because... I... uhhh..."

"That's what I thought." Sakura nuzzles back into her neck. "Honestly... you freak out at the silliest things."

"Oh, and you're not freaking out? Like, at all?"

"No..." yawns Sakura. "'Cuz I love you too... you big dummy."

The moment of silence that ensues stretches on forever. Just as Sakura thinks she's finally going to drift off to sleep, Saki suddenly lets out the breath she'd been holding in and then breaks out into hushed, breathy laughter.

"Well shit," is all she says. There's a strange catch in her voice that Sakura can hear behind the chuckles. The biker girl draws her in even closer, hugging her with a gentle fierceness. Her whole body is trembling, and she only stills when Sakura hugs her back. "Now I just feel stupid."

"You're not stupid. You're..." Another yawn, this one even longer than the last.

"A dumbass? Amazing? Wait, nah, I got it, an amazing dumbass?"

"You're... just... Saki."

And somehow, she manages to fall asleep, even as her girlfriend laughs hard enough that she tears up.