Humor lieth where the expected and unexpected intersect. Gods play dice with men, and when they roll a double-six, they laugh and cheer and clap, even if the poor soul whose fate is tied to the outcomes of their great game is too busy getting his liver pecked out to cheer along with them. Today, they had seen fit to play with me, and yet the only irony in this one joke – among many in my life thus far – was the fact that I had been caught so blissfully unaware, even though all the signs had been there for me to take ample note of.
In other words, I should have seen this coming.
"Onii-chan, are you okay?" Komachi's slender features swam into view, a worried look creasing her otherwise smooth and unblemished brow. "You've been mumbling something for a few minutes now."
"Let me be," I groaned, turning away from my sister and towards the window, where the blistering sunlight was cascading into my room, poking incessantly at my eyelids. Evidently the weather wasn't hungover one bit, despite the drunken deluge it had regurgitated all over the wide and wonderful world just the day before. "Stop playing around with me."
"That's rude. Komachi's doing her best to take care of you," Komachi huffed as I realized what I had just uttered in my half-asleep reverie. She was no god, but she was mighty well close enough in the circumstances, and I would do well to show a little more gratitude. "How did you get sick, anyway? Komachi thought stupid people didn't catch colds. Where was your umbrella?"
"The umbrella was useless," I muttered. "Did you see the storm? It was-" My words abruptly caught in my throat, and I began to cough and hack violently, as though I were expelling the internal contents of my body along with the phlegm in my windpipe. Komachi tugged at my shoulder and handed me a drink, from which I gratefully took a deep swig after I had propped myself upright. "Thanks."
Komachi sighed and lifted up a thermometer, beckoning for me to open my mouth. "You could've just waited it out," she said as she stuck the thermometer unceremoniously underneath my tongue, causing me to yelp in pain. "That's what Komachi did."
"Waiting something out is a lot easier if you have people to do it with," I mumbled.
"You have your clubmates, don't you? You don't have to force yourself to be alone all the time, you know." Komachi yanked the thermometer away, eliciting another yelp from me, and let out a concerned breath through her nose as she glanced at the number on the display. "Yikes, look at that. Any hotter and Komachi could fry an egg on your forehead. Just stay home for today, okay? Mom already called the school."
"Will do," I replied weakly, slumping back into a supine position. "Thanks, Komachi. You're the best."
"Save that talk for when you get better. Komachi's heading out." She slapped a cold towel onto my temple and, without further ado, marched towards the door, swiveling around as she placed her hand on the doorknob. "Don't get up until you're actually well, okay?" she warned, pointing at me sternly. "Promise Komachi."
I waved her out of the room. "You worry too much. I'm not that stupid."
"That's exactly the kinda thing that makes Komachi worried. Stupid Onii-chan." She slipped through the open doorway and snapped the door shut, leaving me to my own devices, and to my own feverish thoughts.
My already tenuous hold on consciousness was relinquished, and I quietly sank into the depths of slumber, any last semblances of reality trailing away into the soothing breeze that edged through the gap above the windowsill. The world of the dream claimed my senses, all while the battle to prevent my body from being desecrated further by pathogenic intruders raged on. Godspeed, my dutiful white blood cells. May you find that mine is a body worth fighting for.
The hours dragged on, and all the while I slept – fitfully, as I found myself waking up once every so often due to the throbbing hum of pain in my head, though I managed to return to sleep each time. When my eyes opened again, I discovered that the sun had shifted a considerable distance across the sky, and the afternoon was making ready to bid its goodbyes for the day.
But as I soon found out, the greatest surprise was yet to come. A sudden knock on the door shook away the haze clouding my mind.
"Yes?" I called.
The door opened, and two people stood at the entrance. I squinted, trying to make out the identities of the figures – my vision was still blurred and bleary, and the copious amount of sleep I had engaged in made me far groggier than usual. Nevertheless, I could tell that the one opening the door was my sister, dressed in her mint-colored hoodie and gray sweatpants. The other silhouette was clad in our school uniform, and judging by their uncovered legs, they were most likely wearing a skirt.
Which, I surmised, could mean only one of three things.
"Komachi has to do groceries, so she'll leave the two of you alone for now," said my little sister, whose mischievous snicker I could recognize even in my zombified state. "Just tell Komachi if you need anything."
"Alright, thanks," replied the only other person left in the room.
I recognized the voice. It would be hard not to. Yet I refused to believe it until the truth was staring me in the face, clear as the cloudless sky outside the windows, a faint hint of concern tinging the otherwise insouciant façade.
"Hikigaya-kun?"
I blinked as hard as I could and instinctively drew away, as if the person sitting at my bedside had abruptly morphed into a Lovecraftian monster – though perhaps even that would be less terrifying than my current predicament. "W-what?" I stammered as I sat up, without noticing that the towel had fallen off my forehead and into the crack between my bed and the wall next to it.
"You don't have to be that scared." It was hard to believe that Yukinoshita had it in her to feel offended, but she did a pretty good job of acting like she was. "I'm not going to eat you."
"Why… are you here?"
The Ice Queen sighed, and the temperature in my bedroom plummeted for just the briefest of moments. "You're a bona fide idiot, aren't you? A member of my club is ill. The least I can do is make sure they're okay. You didn't come yesterday, and, well… I feel at least a little bit responsible for that. But that's it. Don't get any ridiculous ideas."
"I… see."
"Also, just so you know," Yukinoshita added, jabbing a finger towards my face, "I wouldn't have come here if Yuigahama-san hadn't asked me to."
"Where is she now?"
"She had something to do today, so she asked me to come in her place. You should remember to thank her when you next see her. She cares for you far more than anyone of your ilk deserves."
So much for taking pity on the infirm. I couldn't remember the last time I had anyone visit me when I was ill, chiefly because it had never actually happened to me before. Yet here she was in all her glory, hands on her lap, taking care not to sit too close to me lest – at least from her perspective – she somehow contracted my stupidity. It seemed there was to be no peace for the wicked, even if they were on the brink of death.
I saw no purpose in allowing my mood to drop any further, so I decided the best course of action would be to end proceedings as prematurely as possible. "As you can see, I am very much alive," I remarked. "So, if you don't really want to be here, then I won't keep you."
The erstwhile look of presumed offence returned to her face. "Who said I didn't want to be here?"
"Didn't you just say-"
"There are many different types of wants, Hikigaya-kun. My personal preferences and my sense of disgust would not have allowed me within a ten-meter radius of a sick person, especially considering who that person is. But my sense of duty and responsibility tell me that it is the right thing to do. When reason and emotion do battle, I know whose side I'm picking. Unlike certain other people I know, when I commit to something, I see it through until the end."
I bit my lip. That last statement was an opportune reminder that I still had yet to apologize to her for snatching something she had worked so tirelessly for from underneath her nose. Yet Yuigahama's warning rang clear in my head – I had to know what it was that I ought to be sorry about. But what did she really mean by that?
"Relationships aren't just about interactions between two people, Onii-chan," said a voice in my head.
And then it clicked.
"Yukinoshita."
A bemused tilt of the head in response to her name. "Yes?"
"I… I'm sorry. For helping with Isshiki's bid for the student council presidency… but not just that." I took a deep breath and blurted out the words that, in any other moment, I would likely never have even dreamt of saying. Perhaps the fever had finally succeeded in addling my judgment. "I didn't tell you because I thought – I knew – you would be hurt by it. Because even if you don't like me that much, you at least care about what I do… so I should have known better than to hide that from you. But, like I've told you and Yuigahama, I want to find something genuine for myself, and I can't do that if I'm not honest with the two of you. So… that's what I've decided to do from now on." I shook my head and stared down at my knuckles, now white with the force of my clenched fists. "If you want to hate me for it, you are free to do so. I just wanted to apologize."
I dared not look up for fear of seeing what I anticipated: a look of revulsion and distaste at the sniveling, backstabbing human garbage that she saw me to be. Yet as my curiosity got the better of me and my head was raised against my will, I found something totally unexpected, and hence totally inexplicable.
"You didn't have to tell me all that. I didn't want to be president that much, anyway." The corners of Yukinoshita's lips twitched, as though she were attempting something approaching a forgiving smile. "Honestly, I would say you saved me a lot of trouble. When Isshiki-san won the election, I was expecting to feel bitter and disappointed, but all I really felt was a strange sense of relief. Like I said, there are many different types of wants, and I think my emotional wants won out that time – I just didn't know it yet. So, maybe I should be thanking you instead." There was no denying her good cheer now, and Yukinoshita's features gleamed as the waning sunlight pooled around her, bathing her in an incandescent ochre glow. "Perhaps you are useful for something, after all."
"There was no need for that last part," I grumbled. "You ruined the good mood we had going."
"You're one to talk. Anyway…" Yukinoshita rose to her feet and lifted a plastic bag up from the floor. "At Yuigahama-san's behest, I brought you a sports drink and a snack." She placed the bag on the bedside table. "That should keep you until your sister returns, in case you're hungry."
As if on cue, the doorbell chimed faintly from the living room.
"Geez, couldn't have picked a worse time," I grunted as I yanked the blanket away and lifted myself unsteadily off the bed, leaning against my desk to steady my wobbling knees. Yukinoshita flapped her arms weakly at me, as if unsure whether she ought to help prop me up, but I waved her away. "I'll be fine. Just give me a sec."
I trundled out of the room, rubbing my eyes as I approached the front door. No one ever came by at this time of day, so I suspected Komachi had left her keys at home by accident. She wasn't absent-minded by any stretch, but nobody was perfect, not even her – though I had to say she came pretty close. In any case, she was prone to the occasional blunder, despite the fact that I had yet to really figure out how many of those mistakes were actually by design.
"C'mon, Komachi," I said as I tugged the door open, "you do know I'm sick, right?"
"Of course I knew that, Senpai. Why else would I be here?"
My blood froze in its veins. I staggered backwards slightly, a numb sensation spreading across my forehead. One surprise visitor was bad enough for my presently delicate health; two was enough to send me spiraling into a nigh comatose state.
"What are you doing here?" I breathed. "More importantly, how did you find my place?"
"Same way she did." Isshiki, her beaming smile never wavering, gestured at something behind me.
Oh, no.
"I wasn't expecting you to come, Isshiki-san." Yukinoshita, standing at the end of the hallway, radiated her usual composure in the face of this new development. Yet her arms were folded tightly across her chest, and even from my vantage point I could see that her eyes were narrowed and twitching, as though she were a hawk staring keenly at a prey mouse in a grassy field. "But I appreciate you looking out for Hikigaya-kun."
"Of course I would, Yukinoshita-senpai. He's helped me out a lot these past couple of weeks. As you know." Isshiki's eyes, normally so full of the kind of superficial warmth one reserved for people they weren't particularly fond of, were now like a pair of topazes in the backdrop of the late afternoon sun – beautiful, glittering, and undeniably hypnotic.
But nonetheless still icy to the touch.
"Well, I was about to depart, so I will leave the two of you to it." In the blink of an eye, Yukinoshita closed the distance between us, and before I knew it she had slipped her shoes on, slung her school bag over her shoulder, and passed me a frosty parting glare as she stepped through the front door. "Don't do anything strange to Isshiki-san, you hear?" she muttered.
"Who do you think I am?" I retorted, anticipating one of Yukinoshita's usually biting assessments of me. However, this time, there was to be no response – only a flick of her hair and a spin of the heel before she trotted briskly down the street, turned the corner, and vanished out of sight. I wasn't quite sure what she made of Isshiki's interruption, in the same way that I wasn't quite sure what she made of my apology. What I did know, unfortunately, was that heading to the clubroom tomorrow was going to be no easier a task than it had been before her visit.
"Now that that's out of the way…" Isshiki cheerily held up a plastic bag. "Here."
I took the bag – something I was now very much used to doing around Isshiki – and peered inside. The exact same brand of sports drink, with a similar snack. Remarkable how two people with such different approaches to life could be so in tune during moments like these. "Thanks," I said as I willed my beating heart to be still. Now that we were alone – at my house, no less – I could not afford to let my guard down at any cost. "But how did you find out I was sick?"
The impish expression I had become accustomed to seeing was swiftly restored, and Isshiki twirled her finger gleefully, as though she were wrapping the world around it.
"I have my ways," she replied. "Now, are you gonna let me in, or am I gonna have to catch a cold too? Se-n-pa-i?"
