Authors Note: This work is NOT FINISHED. As a matter of fact, I never intended anyone to see it. I just remember reading a fic along the premises of Kyoya getting sick, and decided to put my own twist on it. It needs some editing work, and the flow has a few issues, but I was curious as to whether or not it was a piece anyone would be interested in me finishing (I actually have a lot of ficlets like this that are in what I like to call the 'vault') , SO if you want to see this complete, read and review. If enough people want to see it finished I'll push myself to complete it! (: Happy readings!
Affliction
By BookyJuliet
af·flic·tion (n.)
1 - a state of pain, distress, or grief; misery.
2 - a cause of mental or bodily pain, as sickness, loss, calamity, or persecution.
Sure the day had started off regularly for Haruhi and her friends. Classes with the Hitachiin twins Kaoru and Hikaru fallowed by a short lunch with the rest of the club, Honey-senpai, Mori-senpai, Tamaki-senpai and the ever allusive Kyoya-senpai; or it'd seemed normal enough to her.
Maybe she was the problem.
Haruhi would be the first to admit that when it came to perception, especially when in regard to the male gender, she had a tendency to be frustrating clueless in all aspects. Of course, she never imagined this would be one of those things. But it seemed her lot in life to always be clueless about the opposite gender, which is what led to this current predicament she was now facing. The thought struck her suddenly as she entertained her usual fair, a junior class B member Aya Kuzako and her best friend Kaiako and a few girls whose names she didn't remember. New freshman mostly.
Kyoya-senpai is sick…does he know? It seemed to be a fact not lost on any of the club members. She shot Honey a look that shared her question, to which Mori shrugged a slight shake of his head. Tamaki for all his good graces didn't seem to notice.
Better that way, let the poor guy rest a bit.
It had actually been the noise, or rather lack there-of that had originally caught her attention. Usually at this time of day all you could hear was the soft clink of china, the soft murmurs and spread out excited squeals of the customers and Kyoya's ever present typing. The soft click of the key's something that'd once bothered her, but was now more of a weighting implement. The sound kept her grounded and focused without it, like now; her mind wandered freely.
"Haruhi-kun, are you listening to me?"
The brunette had the decency to blush as she laughed nervously. "Sorry, Aya-chan, I was just thinking." The ravenette seemed satisfied with the apology and continued what she was saying.
"Haruhi, don't you think it strange that Kyoya-senpai is sleeping during club hours? It's just not like him." The brunette nodded her head in agreement; give her best smile as she apologized on his behalf. "Don't worry about him Aya-chan! He's just tired. I think he works too much, but ne, what do I know?"
Her excuse was accepted and the subject was dropped. But she still kept an eye on her friend through the rest of the afternoon, making sure he didn't fall out of his seat or break anything.
"Good-bye Kaoru! Hikaru! Tamaki!" Haruhi waved laughing softly as they all chanted their good-bye's and left for the evening. Tamaki wanted to stay and chat, but was needed by his father for business.
"Mori-senpai, will do be favor and get some hot water on before you and Honey leave? I'm going to wake Kyoya-senpai, and I don't want him to murder me for doing it empty handed." She smiled sheepishly as she set her now packed back onto the chair in the third music room or Ouran High.
"Sure Haru-chan!" the honey blondes reply made her smile thankfully and guide her eyes upward to Mori. Thank you she mouthed and he flashed her a split second of a smile before disappearing to do asked before going home.
Alone at last.
Mentally, she frowned. Of all the host club members, Kyoya was the one member she just couldn't figure out. He was a nice guy, she knew that. He was fiercely ambitious, smart and; though it took her forever to figure it out, loyal. Above all things he was loyal. To his family name, to his father, to his friends, even to the Host Club; it didn't fit in with everything else, he was a puzzle. Silently, she mused that maybe she enjoyed that. Just maybe.
When the water was heated and she'd steeped the tea gently sat the cup in front of him. He was sleeping pretty heavily and she frowned.
Come on Haruhi. You have to do this, he can't just sleep her all night.
That was true at least, but she still felt guilty waking him. The poor guy was pale with dark circles under his eyes. If anyone needed a good nape, it was Ohtori Kyoya.
She laid a tentative hand on his shoulder giving a gentle shake to his form. "Kyoya-senpai, it's time to go home…" She frowned. He was warm, maybe too warm. And that thought panicked her. Placing the back of her hand to her own forehead and then to his her frown deepened. He was burning up. "Kyoya..Kyoya wake up." When he still didn't stir she did the only thing she could think to do; she called Honey-senpai.
It took three of them, Haruhi opened the doors, Honey carried both of their things and Mori lugging the still passed out Kyoya to get him into the limo and en route to her apartment. She didn't know who to call in this situation, but decided to deal with it later as she ducked into the sleek limo, allowing Kyoya's head to rest in her lap. His fever was high, too high.
"Takashi, keep your cell phone close tonight please? I'm not sure I can get his fever down without getting him to the hospital, and the train would take too long…" she spared a quick glance with worried eyes to her silent companion he affirmed her request with a grunt. Even Honey was quiet now.
There was a familiar panic in the pit of her stomach, an irrational fear she held for anyone who was ill. She believed firmly that everyone who was sick would die, like her mother. Maybe they weren't terribly close, but Kyoya was still her friend. Him dying wasn't part of the plan. But the panic was gripping tighter, making her feel sick with nerves as they reached her apartment and she ran ahead to unlock her door and make sure the path to her room was clear.
Mori laid the still unconscious Kyoya on her bed removing his shoe's and glasses before he turned to Haruhi. "Will you be alright?"
She spared a half smile, though she still looked worried, and nodded. "If I can't you'll be the first to know. His fever is pretty bad, and I don't know how long it's been this high. I'm hoping I can get it to break before nightfall if not…well…"
Nodding his understanding the tall male took his leave and Haruhi set to work, she tucked him under the covers of her own bed pressing a cold compress to his forehead, before helping him swallow some aspirin for the fever.
She scrolled the contacts on his cell phone, feeling like she was invading his personal space, the amount of contacts he had was incredible, even more so was how organized they were. Family, friends, business, associates; all organized into their own groups. On his sister's number, she paused but shook her head. She needed to focus, she'd make calls later.
It felt like hours before the fever even made the effort to lower, dropping a couple degrees but it stayed pretty solid, through it all Haruhi sat at his side, dutifully bathing his brow with cold water and mindlessly rambling at him.
Please Kyoya…you've got to make it through this.
Silently, she wished Mori and Honey had stayed, that her father was home or even that Kyoya was lucid enough to talk to her.
In the silence, caring for him, she felt the hopelessness set in.
How was she supposed to fix this? She wasn't a doctor? Why did she bring him here, a hospital would have been better. More qualified than her simple first aid knowledge and the few recopies her mother had left behind for home remedies.
She did however; in the silence notice more of his symptoms. Though the fever was most noticeable, on occasion, he would sneeze, sniffle, his lips parted open to allow him to breath and when that all failed, he'd cough until she worried he'd break a rib and fall silent again. That at least she knew she could fix.
Creating a special tea from a recipe that was left to her; she brewed it hot and waited for it to cool to be drinkable before she tossed a shot of whiskey in it from her father's cabinet.
She supported his weight, helping him lean forward before she poured the drink through his lips so he wouldn't choke. It wouldn't do to drown him when he was already so close to being in real trouble. She searched through the house until she found the hand labeled jar of salve, her mother had made it, and it was something her father used on her all the time when she was sick. Unbuttoning his shirt she blushed lightly before she smeared it across his chest, using a towel to protect his clothing from the staining paste.
More embarrassing yet, she stripped off his socks, finding a pair of her father's less expensive ones before she coated the soles feet with the salve and pulled the clean socks on to cover the bottoms of his now covered feet and then she tucked them back in.
Nothing left but to wait.
Days. That was probably mellow dramatic, but it felt like days passed before she coerced him to swallowing his second dose of aspirin and his fever slipped down, lower and lower until she no longer felt he was in danger. An alarm was set on her phone to alert her to when he needed aspirin next, and for once she was happy her father was working late.
She yawned, wiping the tears from her eyes as she tried to refocus on the book she'd started reading out loud, the sound of her own voice comforting in what had been unbroken silence all afternoon by her solitary companion.
It was a book she'd pulled from her nightstand, pleasure reading for her. It was by an American author, and though she felt bad, it probably wouldn't promote happy dreams, she couldn't stop reading, it was hedging towards one AM.
"And as…she…" her resolve faltered as another yawn gripped her, and she allowed her fingers to trace over his forehead lightly, he felt so much cooler to the touch than before. For that she was grateful. Letting the book hit the ground she shifted in the chair she'd moved from the living so she could sit with him, and smiled softly.
"Kyoya, you have to get better, alright? Too many people need you. Tamaki needs you, the whole club does. I need you." She allowed her eyes to drop to her lap as she sighed heavily. "You can pull through this. It's just a cold or the flu! Don't let…this…win."
I'm so tired. Mom, is it okay to sleep now?
As she slipped into a restless sleep, she curled into a ball in the chair, clutching Kyoya's blazer for dear life.
And there was a famous heir…
Kyoya's first real thought, was that his head felt like it would split in two. Everything slow measured breath caused it to pound painfully. His second thought was that he couldn't see, not that it was black or something was covering his eyes, but that his glasses were missing.
Groaning softly he pushed himself up a bit, his body feeling drained and heavy. He wasn't sure where he was, the room was plane and unfamiliar with soft white walls, wood floors and the comforter he was so carefully tucked under was soft sky blue with white flowers and green leafs. It was obviously a girl's room. He tried to remember what he'd last done. Faintly, though the memory felt like it was hours ago. He remembered, though only partially, walking to host club, sitting down…and than nothing.
The sound of movement caught his attention and he peered into the darkness next to him in an attempt to see who or what had made the noise.
He made out the shape, small, rounded in on itself, shivering lightly and ruffled hair. He frowned and reached out a hand shaking the figure gently. He was curious as to who it would be. Tamaki? No, the figure was much too small. Kaoru or Hikaru, Honey maybe? But he doubted that. This figure was actually too large for that. So who was left…Mori or maybe…just maybe…
His fingers lightly fumbled to find his glasses, they were on the nightstand. Slipping them into place, he looked around the room. His mind was still going slowly, having a hard time keeping up.
As a general reminder, I own nothing. It's not mine. Truthfully, I only wish I could be this creative, I'm making no money and am simply a fan, doing a labor of love. So don't sue me. Thanks!