A/N: Not mine.
"Mm-mm?" Kotoko raised heavy lids to look around the dim room before her eyes popped wide open. "Naoki?"
"Ah, you're awake." He pressed a red button before bringing a cup with a straw near her face. "Would you like some water?"
"Sure." She sipped slowly. "Did something happen at the restaurant?"
"The restaurant, she says!" Mrs. Irie rose from the far corner. "What care we about a building when it is you, ma petite, who is the ailing one! You," she gestured at her son, "go fetch Ai-san. I hope your father has calmed him down by now."
"Yes, mother." Unusually meek, he bowed and left the room.
"Obasama?" she whispered.
"You fainted, my dear." Mrs. Irie smoothed her hair. "You were at your papa's restaurant, sitting at a table, and a young waiter plus désemparé found you unconscious. Luckily, Ai-san was but minutes away, and he brought you to the hospital in a taxi."
"I was wrapping Valentine gifts," she said slowly as the fog lifted from her mind.
"Yes, and those idiot men left them all scattered about. Luckily, my son is not an idiot, and when he arrived to meet you, gathered and brought them here."
"Meet me? But he wasn't supp–"
"Kotoko!" Mr. Aihara burst into the room, his coiffure mussed from pulling on it during the past few anxious hours. "My daughter, do not frighten me so."
"Now, now, Ai-kun, that was never her intention." Mr. Irie shrugged at his wife. "I did my best, but she is his only child."
"Yes, yes, Otosan, I will try to remain healthy. But," she winced as she shifted herself onto her elbows, "will someone please tell me why I am in a hospital?"
"You arrived unconscious with low grade fever and abdominal sensitivity. After a number of tests, it was determined that you were suffering from appendicitis. As it is a fairly mild case, you were able to be treated with drugs." He indicated the IV pole which held a bag, still dripping fluid into her vein, and turned to the nurse taking Kotoko's pulse. "Is that correct, ma'am?"
"The doctor himself couldn't have described it better, provided he was speaking in plain Japanese and not medical terminology." She nodded after tucking the sheet in firmly. "I will let them know you are awake, and they will most likely release you shortly. This bed can then be used by someone more in need."
"More in need!" Mrs. Irie's expostulation fell upon inattentive ears, as the nurse had already exited the room. "Papa," she turned to her husband, "let them know that my dear Kotoko-chan will be staying here as long as I deem it necessary."
"Ma, you're not a medical professional," Naoki cautioned her.
"And neither are you!" she spat back.
He rolled his eyes automatically before staring at the tableau in front of him. Mr. Aihara was on the floor, bowing, and his father was trying to use his bulk to pull him upright. "Aihara-san," he inquired as he assisted Mr. Irie, "what are you doing?"
"Naoki-kun," Kotoko's father wailed, "you have lost your chance for Todai due to my daughter!"
"How did you come to that conclusion?" he asked, incredulous. "She was already at the hospital by the time I returned."
"But my employees– They said that you were to meet her at Fugu-kichi. She caused you to abandon your future," he bemoaned and once more attempted to kneel.
"Aihara-san," Naoki spoke firmly, "Kotoko and I had no plans to meet. She left me at the train station, and I was the one who decided that Todai was not for me. I only knew to go to your place because she said that she was dropping in there after shopping."
"That's what I was trying to get through your thick head, Ai-kun," Mr. Irie stated, jabbing his friend's shoulder with a loose fist. "The only one responsible for Nao's decision is Nao himself. And even if it was a choice different from what I would have made, his mother and I accept that he has the right to plot his own path. Now stop trying to take responsibility for all of the world's problems."
"All right." He wiped his face with a sleeve. "I'll back off and only work on Japan's problems."
"Oh, you!"
Seeing her father and his old friend laugh and mock-wrestle brought forth a smile from Kotoko. Mrs. Irie, on the other hand, clicked her tongue and chided, "Garçons!" before turning to her son to hold out a peremptory hand. "Mon fils," she snapped her fingers, "dear Kotoko-chan's packages?"
"Of course." He handed the bag to her then asked, "Should I check on my brother?"
"Yuuki-kun!" Kotoko exclaimed. "Is he alone at home?"
"Nonsense, ma chérie," Mrs. Irie assured her. "Papa picked him up after school."
"Although with the way the nurse's aides were spoiling him, it will be an effort to make him leave. They were plying him with hot cocoa and snacks."
"A playboy in the making," she said, twinkling at him.
"Oui, oui," Mrs. Irie shooed him away, "tell him that he must come and greet his Onee-chan now that she is awake."
"Really, Obasama, if the doctors are going to send me home tonight, there was no need for everyone to come here."
"Ah, but we did not know that then. When he called me, poor Ai-san was too éperdu to make sense. I worried myself into a pother until I heard from Onii-chan and then immediately took a taxi."
Her head bobbed. "Thank you, then. If Otosan was that worried, he might have stressed himself into a collapse and ended up in the next room. Now, if Yuuki-kun shows up," she dug in the shopping bag, "this one is for him." She kept pulling boxes and placing them on the bed cover. "Satomi, Jinko," she named, "and here," she held out a rectangular shape, "this is for you and Irie-sama."
"Kotoko-chan!" she protested. "While most thoughtful of you, it is not necessary to include les vieux! Valentine's Day is for the youth."
"Nonsense. Besides, it is nothing much. I know that you are trying to eat healthier," she tilted her head significantly towards the men, still in conversation, "and this is a set of different sizes of melon ball spoons. If Irie-sama thinks the fruits look like sweets, maybe he'll eat more of them."
"Oh, my dear!" She embraced her gently, careful of the still connected IV tube, "you are très considerate. Much more than my dismal son deserves, although I hope you still have a gift for him in there," she hinted.
"Obasama, you know Naoki does not like overly sugary foods," she reminded her with a smile.
"That's right, Ma." The brothers had just re-entered the room. "You should know that, having been acquainted with me from birth."
She sniffed. "I wish that you would make an exception for the holiday of les amoureux–now that you actually have a girlfriend–but you remain so unemotional."
"Why change for just one day?" He shrugged. "Besides, I never ate any of that unwanted candy I received the past few years."
"Yeah," Yuuki looked up and grinned from where he was tearing the wrapping off his gift, "he always let me have them."
His mother gave him a gimlet eye. "Then it's no wonder that, like your father, your shape is beginning to resemble un ballon. Kotoko-chan, I do believe my gift will prove most beneficial to the men in my life."
"You're welcome, Obasama," she answered before facing Naoki. "I didn't have time to wrap yours, but I bought you some green tea cookies. I thought you might like those with your coffee in the evening."
"Matcha!" Yuuki snorted. "That's so bitter."
"All the more to their benefit," his brother shot back with a wink, "since they will not be a temptation for you. Thank you, Kotoko," he bowed. "Now you have put me on my mettle for White Day."
"Oh, Papa, Ai-san! Isn't it wonderful that the young people are honoring the traditions of Japan? Now," she pouted, "if only they would kiss."
"If we didn't entertain you with the mistletoe," Naoki retorted, "you should know that this made-up holiday would not tempt us."
T/N: Ma petite=my little one; plus désemparé=more helpless; Garçons!=Boys; mon fils=my son; ma chérie=my dear; oui=yes; éperdu=distraught; les vieux=the old ones; très=very; les amoureux=lovers; un ballon=a ball.