A random plot bunny unexpectedly hopped into my head and this is what it's given you...! A darker tone than previous chapters, hope you enjoy.
Dark Thoughts
Shinobu re-entered the darkened bedroom, a bowl sloshing with water under his right arm and a fresh towel clutched in his hand. Placing the bowl next to the bed, he tenderly brushed a few strands of damp hair from Miyagi's forehead before dipping the towel into the cool water, soaking it completely before wringing it out and pressing it gently to Miyagi's fevered forehead.
The unexpected sensation on his hot skin caused Miyagi to stir and he slowly opened his eyes, searching the room for a moment before focussing on Shinobu. A wave of guilt washed over him, making him feel even worse than he already did.
Shinobu, so young, so much future ahead of him, yet remaining so devotedly at his sickbed. It wasn't right.
"Shinobu," he croaked in a faint whisper.
Shinobu's grey eyes flew up to his face, examining him intently for any sign of pain or discomfort.
"Shinobu… you don't have to stay here… at my side."
"You're ill, old man. I'm looking after you."
Miyagi winced at Shinobu's usual epithet for him. Old man, that he certainly was becoming.
"You should… you should go… be having fun… not looking after me like this," he insisted, turning his head away.
Shinobu leaned forward. "Miyagi, I don't mind. What fun do you think I'm going to have without you? Besides, I'm your partner, it's my duty to care for you when you're ill."
"You'll spend half your life looking after me then," Miyagi grumbled.
"You've got a somewhat high temperature, Miyagi, and it's only been one day!" Shinobu exclaimed, rolling his eyes in exasperation.
"For now… But as you said, I'm an old man. This is only the start, it's all downhill from now on. You shouldn't be tied down to a sick old man, Shinobu-chin, I'm stealing your life from you…"
"Bloody hell, Miyagi, you've got a few more years in you yet! Stop being so damn morbid and stop pushing me away! I'm not leaving you, you'll be better in no time and you're not even forty yet, so I doubt I'll be tending you in your final days just yet. Just shut up now and rest so you feel better quickly."
Shinobu pressed closer on the bed, slipping his hand into Miyagi's to take away the bite of his words. Miyagi rarely got sick, maybe only once or twice a year, and yet he always became so melancholy, darkness clouding his eyes that Shinobu knew wasn't caused only by the physical pain of his illness. He thought he knew what it was; Miyagi had hit the same age as his sensei when she had passed away and, even though he certainly wasn't dying, seeing Shinobu sit ceaselessly at his side, remembering the pain he had felt all those years ago…it was suffering Miyagi would not wish on anyone, let alone his dearest Shinobu. He would rather tear himself away from the boy now than make him endure the loss and sorrow that he had had to live through, knowing that his sensei was dead and gone forever.
Miyagi closed his eyes and gripped Shinobu's hand in return. He was exuding heat, a trickle of sweat sliding down his neck, yet in his fever he shivered and pulled the bedcovers tighter around his body. Shinobu tenderly patted his flushed skin once more with the wet towel and sat and watched until Miyagi fell asleep, staying at his side until the fever finally broke and Miyagi's hand in his grew cooler and looser, slipping from his to rest peacefully at his side.