The walls were moving. Logically, Kaito knew they weren't actually moving. The world didn't work that way—or at least not unless he was in a trick house. Kaito's walls certainly weren't supposed to move, which is why he was blearily chalking it down to a side effect of being sick. Along with, well, the whole nausea, chills and aches.

Most of those symptoms were within the usual realm of being sick. Moving walls was a new one.

Kaito couldn't bring himself to be concerned about it. He couldn't bring himself to feel much of anything beyond the exhausted misery that went hand-in-hand with illness. Ugh. At least it was the weekend? He closed his eyes against the swimming room that only made the nausea that much worse. Maybe he could sleep it off?

But he was getting dehydrated. He should at least drink water first.

Kaito shakily pushed himself upright. The room spun and black spots danced at the edge of his vision. "Ugh," he groaned, waiting for it to settle. Like a carousel despite only sitting in one place. Lovely. It took a bit to get to his feet. His arms and legs felt like half-cooked noodles. Standing, he wondered if he could actually make it out of his bedroom, let alone to the kitchen or bathroom to access water.

He was Kaitou Kid. He did the near impossible. He could definitely cross a room and get down the hall even if things were wobbly. …The bathroom was closer.
Everything felt a bit far away. Dreamlike in the worst kind of way, like the floor and walls could collapse around you, but they didn't feel quite real either. The hallway felt like an age to cross and a blink at the same time, and Kaito found himself resting his forehead against the bathroom doorframe without quite remembering how he crossed the last bit of space to get there.

"Okay," Kaito mumbled to himself. "Maybe this is a worse fever than I thought."

Should he call Aoko? But no, the phone was in the other room and that was too far to go right then. Kaito sighed and let himself stagger into the bathroom.

Cabinet…door open…pills… The labels wavered and Kaito closed his eyes and steadied himself before trying again. Painkiller to reduce the fever and help with the aches.

It took four tries to get the cap off. It was childproof, but considering he could usually do it subconsciously and without looking, it was a bit embarrassing how long he fumbled with it before the cap finally came free. Pills, check, water…

The sink water felt like ice, all the hair on his arms standing on end and his shivers getting worse. Ugh. Kaito swallowed the pills and some water, and with that task accomplished, let himself settle down on the floor where the world felt stabler and the cold floor tile was both a blessing and a torture.

Kaito lived there now. Bedroom? Nah, just gonna pass out on the floor until he felt better.

He let go for a while, letting himself drift because it was simpler than trying to hold onto rational thought. The nausea lingered along with the swimming of the room, but he hadn't thrown up yet, and Kaito didn't think he was going to. No, it would just be a miserable time feeling sick and occasionally shivering so bad his teeth chattered.

Alright, perhaps the bathroom tiles were more torture than not. Being under a large blanket would be wonderful even if he knew that it wouldn't actually chase away the chills.

Kaito blinked and when he opened his eyes next, he was on the floor. The light from the bathroom window had shifted and he felt even worse, though the shivers were less. Instead he was clammy with sweat and his mouth was dry as sandpaper. Kaito whined softly as his entire body ached to move. One with the floor. Right. Shit. Maybe he was sicker than he thought. Maybe he should have been calling an ambulance instead of having the bright idea to trek to the bathroom for painkillers.

Somehow, he found the strength to reach the sink and drink more water. He had to be dehydrated. Between the cold sweat and the fact that he still didn't feel like he needed to pee, clearly he hadn't had enough liquids since…whenever the fever started. Kaito leaned against the sink while his body felt like the air itself was trying to press down on him and drag him back to the ground.

Could he make it back to his room?

The nausea was less, but the shivers were still there and everything was aching jelly limbs and noodle joints and too much for his head to process.

Walking was out. Crawling…

Humiliating, but maybe doable. Another drink of water, couldn't bring a cup on his hands and knees. Move, then rest. Move, then rest.

Kaito made it out of the bathroom. The hallway felt ten times as long to reach his bedroom. A caterpillar could move faster. Still, he made progress, at least until he went to crawl a bit past the middle and his arms gave out. His, Kaito's, arms, which were gymnast-strong. Kaito could cry. The carpet scrunched under his cheek. Uncomfortable, but softer than the bathroom tile.

Drifting again, it could have been minutes or hours when he heard something change around him. Footsteps. A gasp. Kaito blinked dazedly when hands turned him over.

"Kaito?" a wavering voice—Aoko, Aoko's voice—said, with a blissfully cool hand against his face. "Oh no. Oh fuck. Are you even conscious?"

"Mm," Kaito hummed tipping his head into her touch. His eyes had slipped shut again. Too much effort to keep them open. "M'sick," he mumbled.

"I can tell!" Aoko said with an edge of hysteria. "How long—have you taken anything to—Shit, I should call my dad." A pause. "Or an ambulance. How long have you been on the floor?"

"First time or now?"

"There's more than once?!" Aoko pulled him half into her lap, holding he like he was a child she wanted to protect. "Okay. Okay, Kaito, it's going to be okay. I'm going to call… someone… and they'll get something to get your fever down and…" She trailed off. Making a call would mean having to let go of her grip on Kaito. Kaito, reassured that he wasn't going to lay passed out on the floor until he got better or died, let everything fade to the arm around his shoulders and the smell of Aoko's deodorant.

Maybe he could just…

Drift…

In a very vague way, Kaito noticed when other people arrived, and being moved. He definitely noticed the prick of a needle in his arm, but when he tried to pull away from it, Aoko was there, hands gentle and firm as she stopped him from fighting it. If Aoko was there, Kaito would be okay.

Kaito held her hand the whole way to the hospital. When he finally fully came to, in a bed with an IV in his arm and feeling much less like he was dying, Aoko was still holding his hand even as she dozed in a hospital chair.

Her breath was even and slow, but her brow was creased like even in sleep she was worried. Kaito squeezed her hand lightly. She'd looked for him. Worried. Taken care of him…

The only one that ever did that was his mother, and not since he was very young. His parents had tried to encourage self-sufficiency, and for the most part, he'd become so at a young age. Add to it that getting more than a mild cold was rare for him… Kaito couldn't remember the last time he'd had such a bad fever.

Aoko's breathing shifted, faster for a moment before she twitched with a full-bodied gasp. Her hand went tight around his and her eyes snapped open and toward Kaito's face in an instant.

Kaito looked back at her, too tired to do more than stare as Aoko's face crumpled in relief and exhaustion.

"Kaito," Aoko said. "You scared the heck out of me. Don't ever do that again."

"You say that like I was trying to," Kaito said, voice raspy. He needed a drink of water. Even if the IV was keeping hydrated, it didn't really do much to wet a throat. "How bad was I?"

"You had a forty-degree fever, Kaito." Aoko smoothed his hair away from his face. It was stiff with dried sweat and probably disgusting, but she didn't seem to care about that. "You were dehydrated and kept passing out. Why didn't you call me?"

"Didn't think it was that bad," Kaito mumbled. He blinked slowly, exhausted. "Went to the bathroom and couldn't get back."

"Don't do that again," Aoko repeated. "I don't want to have to call an ambulance for you again."

"Really wasn't trying to," Kaito said. His eyes drifted shut as her hand kept petting. This was nice. Much nicer than the angry lecture he was probably going to get after he left the hospital. Aoko didn't let herself be soft like this often. Kaito wished he could catch that sort of mood and bottle it so that he could see it when he wasn't recovering from a brush with death-by-fever.

"My dad is here somewhere," Aoko said after a few moments. "He was supposed to get a snack and something to drink. He might have gotten called away by work though."

"Mm." It was nice to know he bothered coming.

Aoko's fingers tugged lightly on a lock of his hair. "…He called your mom. I know he's your emergency contact, but he thought she should know."

That was both a relief and a headache. Kaito generally tried not to bother his mother and they kept their weekly calls light and insubstantial. At any rate, his mother was an ocean and a continent away. What was she going to do about Kaito being sick? Jump on a plane and get back by the time he left the hospital?

"She's probably going to call you sooner than later," Aoko said.

"Tomorrow is the usual call day anyway," Kaito said.

Aoko sighed and her hands went still. Kaito wished she'd keep petting his head. It wasn't like he'd ever get her to do that when he wasn't sick…

"You spend too much time alone," Aoko said after a long moment. "I almost didn't come over. What if I hadn't? Maybe… Maybe you could stay over more often, or… we could call each other in the morning or night, so we can check in. Because my dad is busy a lot and I'm alone a lot too, so then…"

"Less lonely if you're alone together?" Kaito joked.

"I'm serious," Aoko said, pouting. "Tou-san would have come home eventually if that was me sick, but you live alone."

"I'm used to it, Aoko. And there are a lot of people that live alone and get sick. Next time I'll be more careful. If I feel bad, I'll call someone."

She balled her hands in her lap, lips pressed tight. Mad. At what, Kaito's answer? He didn't have the energy to try and follow her thoughts.

"You shouldn't have to be used to it," Aoko said after a long moment.

"Maybe. It is what it is." He closed his eyes again, hoping she'd take the hint. Let him rest. She was quiet. The sort of quiet that meant she was thinking.

"…You should have someone there when you're discharged. I'll stay over until you're feeling better."

"You don't have to." He cracked one eye open to see her frowning down at him.

"I want to, Bakaito." Aoko poked him between his brows. "Now rest. Dummies aren't supposed to get sick, remember?"

Kaito huffed. "Fine." Kaito had spare rooms. It'd be fine. Though…he had the uncomfortable feeling he'd just given Aoko permission to move in. …Nakamori-keibu wouldn't let her do that, right? …Right?

Ugh. No use worrying. That would be a problem for future, healthy Kaito to deal with. Sick Kaito let Aoko take his hand in hers and drift off to the sound of her breathing, soft among the hospital noises.