Chapter Two:
Sick Day

Summary: Momoshiro does his duty, bringing Ryoma his homework. Then he sticks around.

"'Stay' is a charming word in a friend's vocabulary." - Amos Bronson Alcott

Perplexed, Ryoma looked at the handful of papers being offered to him. "You're not even in my class," he rasped. It was all he could think to say.

Momoshiro tossed the homework sheets down on the floor beside an embarrassingly large pile of used tissues. They had overflowed the wastebasket sometime in the night, but Ryoma felt too sick to deal with it. "Asking wasn't hard," Momo said, shrugging off his efforts. "Besides, somebody needed to check on you."

Ryoma drew the blankets closer, eyes narrowing with comprehension. It was that senpai thing again. As if being a year ahead of someone really made so much of a difference. "Thanks, I guess," he mustered, ignoring how guttural the congestion made him sound.

Momo tossed a tissue at him. "Don't stand on ceremony with me," he said, and then he thumped down on the bed, giving the blankets a kick. "Move your legs, Echizen. I know you're sick, but show some manners!"

Maybe it was the fever, but even as Ryoma drew up his knees, he was still struggling to understand. Momoshiro had done his duty, so why was he still here? With an effort, he asked, "Aren't you going to leave?"

"Nope! I'm gonna keep you company for awhile," Momo answered. He found a stuffed cat wedged between the mattress and held it up. "Really, Echizen?"

Ryoma snatched the old toy out of his hand. However, incredulity was still overpowering most of his senses, and the strongest rebuke his uncooperative mouth managed was a lame indictment. "You'll get sick, too."

Momo dismissed this concern with a wave of his hand. "Me? No way. Momoshiro Takeshi is too tough for germs."

Then he launched into a drawn out version of what had happened at practice that day. Apparently, Inui had designed some new training regimen that involved moving tire swings. "Kaidoh missed and fell flat on his face. He had to drink this disgusting purple stuff, and then he passed out afterward! Of course," Momo boasted. "I made it through unscathed."

"You couldn't hit the broad side of a barn, Senpai," Ryoma teased. Teased. Like they weren't just acquaintances who happened to play on the same team.

Of course, Momo responded with a bluster of protest and a long-winded dissertation on his many, many talents. It should have been annoying. Yet as Ryoma listened, his feet wedged against Momoshiro, he felt his headache slipping away. Before he knew it, he was half asleep. He didn't even notice when Momo tossed the stuffed cat into his arms, grabbed the full garbage can, and finally left the room.

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