Namie was late.
This was something that surprised the informant. His secretary (maid, house-wife-thing, indentured-servant, and other words) was a person that was always on time when told for a duty. She had not called; she had not informed him of any sort of plans to be off. Nothing. Not a single word.
Considering humans, he assumed something had happened, a car wreck—another incident. So that she would be a little late because of the proceedings, but then nothing came back from a few peeks around…
Ten minutes pass by.
He finally decides to call her. It rang once, twice, and on the third time-contact. A hacking sound was first, sickly. "Y-yes?" A coughing spell follows. It didn't sound that good.
"W-who." Cough. "Is this?" The voice strains, it is tired. Obviously sick, it is so very sick. Not many could fake it this well, but he was rather sure that Namie would be able to if she honestly didn't want to be at work.
"Get well soon, then." And he hangs up, a smile on his face. If she is trying to ditch work, he will have to catch her in the act, wouldn't he?
Though, there is of course the off chance that it is a real illness, he also doubts that her brother was going to take care of her. He really does need her back as soon as possible so she can do all of the paperwork, the cleaning, and of course the cooking like a good maid that she is (what, that really is what she is—secretary, maid, and house-keeper in general).
Izaya decides he could afford an hour or so off to investigate this.
Walking his way down the streets and roads is simple, dodging the people, catching hints of conversation—and avoiding a certain Shizzy that may be around as he made his path. He pauses a moment, again with the thought that the illness is real, and ducks into a store. Her brother. No doubt abandoned the woman to her illness, even if she was dying of some diseases, to be with his faux-Celty of a love. That is the funniest part of the entire situation after all.
His strides take him to the medicine and other things one uses for a sick person, piling it all in his arms before purchase, then put in two bags (my, sick people do need a lot of things—rags, tea, medicines, sleep-aids, and certain herbal mixtures. He has no idea what she could have, it was better to be safe rather than sorry). He leaves without a word, the woman behind the counter remarking he was a very sweet young man to be taking care of someone. There is nothing given away that it is that for a reason, but he is more preoccupied about getting to see if his little secretary is honestly ill.
Her place is easy to find, and the door is even easier to break into. Though, the house is completely dark; quiet, too. So she has faked an illness to get away from him for a day—when she returns tomorrow he is going to—
The coughing alerts him to someone being there, a deep hack from the chest. He finds a light, turns it on, and he ventures in with the bags in hand. Curious because she had been fine the day before, and now this ill? How can she have become so sick in such a short amount of time? It confuses him a little, though he considers her personality and the likely possibility she is hiding it—or at least was hiding it until she is not capable of any longer. He did say she was a strong woman—and still does.
Making his way into the place, he looks around the complex, walking carefully to listen for the coughs of the sick person… of his secretary. A thought passes through his mind that he should be wearing a medical mask or something just in case she is contagious, but it doesn't seem likely.
Izaya opens the door, and he pokes his head inside to look at the very sickly woman. She looks to have a fever, hair plastered to her forehead, sweat drips down. She is very ill, with the redness that covers her facial features. She should be taken care of—no one is.
He doesn't 'care', exactly. It is not his nature to care at all. Even if he can survive on his own without her, he finds a need for her. It is human, he assumes, becoming comfortable with her being around after all of these months. It is perfectly human for him to want the extra workload taken off of his shoulders because of the deal she and he have. She is the one that needs him to survive, not the other way around.
Izaya treks carefully further into the room, looking at her opened eyes, and smiles as she can't even focus on him. There is some surprise she let herself become like this. She is weak, helpless, defenseless, and vulnerable before him. The guarded woman, letting her guard down. It is enough to cause him amusement.
A chair is brought to be beside her. He sits, looking over her. He prepares things like he knows how to, after having two little sisters, he does know how to take care of a bad fever and a cough. So he sets to work, cooling her down, getting her out of the sweaty clothing, and helps her take medicine that he brought. The informant is surprised that she doesn't struggle, and that she is not even responding to him at all. She is interesting, more interesting than usual.
It is possible she is not aware of him at all, that she is so deep in her fever that she does not realize he is there. She is probably lost in a sort of fever-dream, letting the world pass by as if nothing is going on. He finds it amusing, since he is getting away with doing things to her she would never allow is she was normal. His words to her still held true, she was beautiful.
"It's not fun if you're not reacting, Namie." He speaks casually to her, as if she was going to give him a glare, or a look, and then turn her gaze away. That is her usual response.
Her eyes are closed now, he assumes she is finally sleeping, instead of being in a state that is neither awake nor asleep, but is still aware in some way. It is nice to see her looking a bit better after his efforts. He does like results after all. Izaya muses to himself, watching her sleep. She is probably going to be sick for a few days. He is fine with that, she is just as amusing awake as she is asleep.
Time is not kept track of. She sometimes mutters in her dreams, saying words and phrases he does not quite understand. Namie was easily readable, but like all humans he wasn't completely manipulating, he is surprised at times by her actions. Like her becoming ill like this; that is a surprise to him. He thinks he might have over-estimated her limits with her health. Or maybe she had done something stupid to cause herself to become ill. Either way, it is cutting in the way of his productivity.
He makes sure she will be fine for a few hours, and leaves. Her brother will be home, and he will take care of her.
That is what he tells himself for a few hours, as he makes his rounds as an informant. It is when he stops at a point where he could turn to go home, or turn back to go take care of her that he stops.
Orihara Izaya realizes her brother would not bother taking care of her, since he has his make-believe Celty. He turns to go back, if she dies on him, he would be stuck with all of that paperwork.
And… and he does not want to admit that he is comfortable with his life now, his life where she is a part of it.
He ends up taking care of her, and doing all of her work for the next few days as she recovers. It is the third day where she wakes.
She is weak from her sickness, and is unguarded. He smiles at her from his make-shift work station. She looks confused, and tired.
"Ah, you know for making me take care of you, you're working late for a week to make up for it, Namie."
"…You…?" There is a light cough. She is not fully well yet, but she will be after a few more days of rest.
"Mhm! You should be very thankful I took so much time out of my busy schedule—but you can just say it's because I love humans~ Even if it's one as strange as you."
She gave him a weak look, if someone compares it to her usual 'glare'.
"You should sleep, Namie. I'll cook something for us later. The sooner you're better the sooner I have time to interact with all of the humans, right?"
She mumbles something to him, and is asleep in minutes.
It is when she feels better, she surprises him again.
"Thank you, Izaya."
He looks up from his laptop—she had never thanked him for anything before. His surprise is valid.
When she does not elaborate, he concludes it is because he cared for her when she was ill.
"I guess I love you more than your precious brother then, hm?" He mocks, to get a rise from her.
"Shut up." And she returns to her work, but he notices the change that has taken place.
It is the first crack in her 'perfect love'.
Charan-Amaya: I sort of want to continue this, but I really am not sure how. Any helpful tips? Any RP offers? Message! REVIEW.