XXX
When Seimei woke up that morning, he knew something was wrong. Or really, he'd noticed the first signs of it yesterday evening, but he'd brushed them off. After all, he had better things to do than to worry about a slight scratch at the back of his throat or a small twinge in his stomach. He'd spent most of the day yesterday completing a task for the Emperor, and once he'd returned home, he wanted to relax with some sake as he stared out into his garden. Seimei had certainly tried to do so, at least, but he quickly found himself uncomfortable and the air a bit chillier than it usually was this time of year, so with a sigh, he'd altered his plan to heading to bed a little early.
After all, it was so much easier to ignore slowly-worsening symptoms while he was asleep.
.
.
Ignoring them, however, wasn't enough to stop him from being awoken by the need to vomit early in the morning.
And so, Abe no Seimei was left heaving whatever was left in his stomach into a pot, curled up tightly as if he'd been beaten. His stomach roiled, and his mouth tasted sour, and each lurch left him gasping for air between mouthfuls of acid. Even once his stomach was entirely empty, he continued to dry heave for a few more minutes before collapsing beside the now-defiled pot on the floor.
Breathing hard, Seimei's half-hazy mind attempted to take stock of his body. The vomiting and nausea were incredibly obvious, now. So was the fever that had apparently taken hold of him during the night. That slight scratch had gotten worse, and through his breaths, Seimei could feel a coughing fit coming on. Pretty much his entire body ached, and despite his fever, he felt as freezing as if it was winter.
Essentially, Seimei was sick.
Of course, it wasn't exactly the first time, but given who he was, Seimei didn't really get sick very often. The only real notable exception to that rule in years was when the sekisanko almost killed him, and really, that was magic more than illness.
But, well, perhaps it was bound to happen eventually.
It certainly wasn't going to be fun, but at the end of the day (or a few days), this illness would probably be gone without any particular need to do much about it.
"Mitsuyo. Mitsumushi. Bring me some water," he called out to his shiki as he dragged himself back to bed.
Well, he'd certainly gone through worse.
XXX
Hiromasa hadn't been planning to visit Seimei that day, but once again, someone asked him to go request the onmyoji's help on their behalf. So, there he stood in front of the gates to the man's residence as the doors creaked open. Usually, Seimei was lounging about on his veranda, sipping sake and staring at his garden, or perhaps reading a book or writing something. Really, no matter the weather, it was more likely than not for him to be outside if he was home.
Today, however, there wasn't any evidence of him on the veranda at all- no cups or writing implements or a book set down for a moment. It wasn't exactly concerning in itself, but it was something he took some note of.
"Seimei?" Hiromasa called out. "Are you home?"
He'd thought he would be. After all, hadn't he gone on some mission yesterday? Certainly, he'd want to rest afterward. Had the mission taken longer than expected?
Or…
Had the mission gone badly?
Now a little worried, especially with the lack of response, Hiromasa walked toward the house with slightly faster steps.
"Seimei!"
Upon reaching the patio, he was first met with a moment of continued silence, but it was soon broken by a noise coming from inside the house. He instantly recognized it as Seimei's voice, but it didn't sound like words. Instead, it was some kind of distressed noise.
Instantly, Hiromasa's slight worry flamed into concern as memories of Seimei's brushes with death flashed to the forefront of his mind.
"Pardon the intrusion!" he exclaimed as he entered the house.
Now inside, the noise was more clear, and he followed it to Seimei's bedroom. The sight he was met with made his blood run cold, so he entered the room without hesitation.
Because Seimei was lying in bed, with his face scrunched in pain and his limbs flailing about, all while he continued to let out pained grunts and gasps. A moment ago, he might've been able to push those memories away, especially if he had found Seimei alive and well, but he really couldn't now- not when he really did look so much like he did the day the sekisanko almost ended his life. Had someone attacked him again? Did it happen on his mission- because of his mission, or did someone take advantage of an opportunity to take out a previous grudge? Did he need to summon Princess Tsuyuko and Kuromaru?
Was Seimei going to die?
Suddenly, Seimei sat up in a coughing fit, just like he did when he coughed up Lord Atsumi's sekisanko, so Hiromasa quickly knelt at his side to help him. Hoping it wasn't an intrusion, he rubbed the man's back as he coughed violently, curled around himself in pain.
However, nothing came up, and the coughing fit eventually faded, leaving Hiromasa facing the onmyoji's exhausted, exasperated expression.
"As you can see, I'm not exactly in the mood for whatever you've been sent here to ask me," Seimei rasped.
He removed his hand and placed it in his lap, continuing to look his friend over.
"Of course not. How could anyone demand a favor when you're in this state?" Hiromasa agree, deciding that the issue would have to be either postponed or handled by someone else. "Are you alright? Did something happen?"
Seimei smirked at him, and for a fleeting moment, Hiromasa wondered if that was going to be the only response he got.
"I'm just sick," Seimei answered with a sigh. "It happens, even to people like me."
"How sick?" Hiromasa questioned, still not entirely able to get the memories to leave his mind.
"I'll be fine in a day-" he said but cut himself off with another string of coughs. "… Or maybe a few days. Either way, it's of no concern."
"How could I not be concerned…?" Hiromasa grumbled, more to himself than to Seimei, before speaking louder. "Do you want me to stay with you? I can help."
"I have Mitsuyo and Mitsumushi to bring me things."
"I know, but I…"
He didn't quite know how to say that he wanted to be there for emotional support, particularly how to say it without sending the other man into a fit of mocking laughter, which could then turn into more coughing. It wasn't as though it was bad for him to rely on his Shiki for help, and the two for them had certainly provided companionship to him for quite a while before Hiromasa came into the picture, but at the end of the day, they weren't human. The two of them didn't seem to be able to speak, and their ability to comfort seemed to end at being physically present. And that could be helpful itself, but it wasn't quite the same as someone nursing you back to health.
Again, though, it's not like he could say that.
"I'd be more at ease if I could make sure you were being taken care of," he ended up saying instead.
At this, Seimei blinked and then looked away a bit, the effect not quite as aloof as usual with his hair down and sleepwear on.
"… Do as you wish, then."
To further the difference in the man's usual image, he also seemed to deflate just a little after he said it.
"I'm going back to sleep, so don't make a lot of noise."
XXX
Of all days the court noble had to show up, it just had to be today. And instead of sending him away like he should have, Seimei had made the stupid decision to let the man stay if he wanted to. And of course, Hiromasa did stay, even though he was mostly watching him sleep.
Mostly.
Because currently, Hiromasa was actually watching him throw up. He knew that he'd missed the pot on the first heave this time, and he could feel his hair being brushed away from his face just as distinctly as he could feel the disgustingly-warm vomit soaking into his clothes. He could also feel Hiromasa's other hand rubbing circles on his back again, and he couldn't quite bring himself to be annoyed about it.
Eventually, the episode ended, and Seimei was left panting and feeling like he wanted to curse someone, even if he didn't really have anyone in particular to blame for his illness. Hiromasa handed him a cup of water, which he took and sipped half-begrudgingly.
"Uh- I'll get you some clean clothes," Hiromasa announced. "Where do you…?"
"Mitsuyo."
The shiki acquired his new clothes quickly, handing them to him in silence. He took the bundle in shaking hands.
"I'll take care of this, then," Hiromasa switched tasks as he stood with the pot. "I'll be right back."
Seimei knew he should get changed while Hiromasa was gone, but he found himself stalling out of pure exhaustion. Really, he felt even worse now than he did when he woke up, and it felt like even lifting his arms, let alone standing up and changing, was too difficult to be worth it. Except he couldn't just remain in his soiled clothes, and he wasn't going to ask anyone- Hiromasa included- to help him get changed. So, his only option was to force himself upright on unsteady legs and haphazardly rip his clothes off, replacing them with clean but quickly-ruffled clothes as he elected to not bother putting them on properly. Flopping back into bed felt like much more of a relief than it should have been.
He didn't know how long Hiromasa was gone, but his return woke him up from a slight doze he'd gone into. Instead of the cleaned pot, he was carrying a bowl on a tray.
"You were sleeping when I came back, so I thought I'd make something for you to eat when you woke up. It's rice porridge"
Even the smell of it as Hiromasa approached him was making the nausea rise up again, so without even noticing he was doing it, he began to shake his head. Hiromasa frowned.
"You haven't eaten at all today, though, have you? You need to build your strength."
"I need to not vomit again," Seimei retorted blankly, raising one eyebrow slightly.
"You'll probably vomit again anyway, and it'll come back up easier if you've eaten something. Instead, it'll just be acid."
His brain wasn't working well enough right then to come up with another response, so he just shook his head again.
"… Alright, I'll set it off to the side for later. But at least drink some more water so you don't get dehydrated."
XXX
Though he was relieved that Seimei's condition wasn't the result of a deadly attack, that didn't mean he wasn't worried. Because despite Seimei's insistence that he was fine and would soon be back to normal, it really did seem as though he was getting worse rather than better as the day went on. His fever had spiked even higher after nightfall, so Hiromasa had taken to wiping a rag soaked in cool water over his face as he slept, which he had been doing fitfully for a while now.
It was painful to see him like this, and not just because he was reminded of unpleasant memories. Seimei was his friend, so of course he hated seeing the man suffering.
Sighing, he re-soaked the rag again and continued his now-silent vigil. Mitsuyo and Mitsumushi both sat at the head of Seimei's bed, with Hiromasa sitting on the left side. The air was heavy, and every time Seimei so much as twitched, Hiromasa's heart stuttered. Was this how his mother felt when he'd fallen ill as a child? Had Seimei had anyone to take care of him when he was sick back when he himself was young? Despite seeing some of the man's memories, he only saw things that occurred after he'd started training as an onmyoji, and from what he'd seen, his master wasn't exactly cold, but he wasn't coddling, either. Most likely, illness would be something to either push through or sleep off to someone like him. He didn't seem the type to mother his disciples in such a way.
But then who would have mothered Seimei? Had his actual mother cared for him before then? Where was she now? What had happened for him to have to be taken in rather than staying with his family?
Of course, he'd heard the rumors about Seimei's parentage. It was more-or-less the second thing he'd learned about him, the first being his existence in the first place. And, well, it was rather easy to believe those rumors, even if Seimei himself never confirmed them. The man was mysterious in an often-mystical sort of way, and his magical prowess didn't quite seem coincidental. And then, there was his physical appearance. Seimei was striking, and he stood out in a crowd. Everything from his face to his strange hair suggested something otherworldly. And the rumors themselves had gone on for so long, so shouldn't there be at least a little bit of truth to them? Then again, Seimei probably wouldn't bother denying the rumors even if they weren't true, just as he wouldn't bother confirming them if they were.
If he really was half-fox, which half was it? Had it been his mother or his father? What circumstances led to his birth? What had his infancy and early childhood been like? Had he been well cared-for and loved? Had he been abandoned? Had something tragic happened?
Most likely, Hiromasa would never know. Or maybe he'd pick up bits and pieces as he went along, slowly building the narrative as their bond grew stronger.
Seimei's face twisted in his sleep, and Hiromasa dunked the rag yet another time.
If he didn't seem any better by morning, he'd go find a doctor to get medicine.
XXX
Seimei drifted in and out of awareness for a few days, vague recollections of bitter liquids and flavorless mush going down his throat between sips of cool water, as well as memories of those same things coming back up more often than not. He often felt comforting hands on his back, his forehead, and checking his pulse at his wrist. He was pretty sure he was never awake for very long during those few days.
As it was, he just jolted out of a fever-induced nightmare, a scream barely holding itself back behind his lips as much more terrifying memories of bloodied green robes and fears of failed rituals attacked his dreams. It was only because Hiromasa, alive even if asleep, was still at his bedside that he knew this was the reality and him dying forever was the nightmare. The reassurance made him relax a little, even if he could still feel his heartbeat pounding in his chest.
Part of him wished the two of them had never met. They both would have been spared a lot of heartbreak if they'd never known each other. Maybe Seimei would have found the demon residing in the palace before it had hurt anyone if he hadn't been attacked by the sekisanko meant for Hiromasa. Maybe Hiromasa would have died at Lord Atsumi's hand, anyway, and Seimei just wouldn't have known to be sad about it. Maybe Seimei would have been targeted by someone else and he would've died then. He certainly might've killed Kuromaru if Hiromasa hadn't scolded him for how he treated people. Maybe Seimei would have failed one of his missions that Hiromasa had joined him on, with any number of potential consequences. Maybe he would have continued to just listlessly wait on his veranda for someone or other to summon him for some task, never getting close to anyone, with only his Shiki as his companions until he died.
Maybe he would have been fine, and Hiromasa would have been fine, but they would both feel the absence of a bond they never knew they were supposed to have.
Seimei still felt sick. His body still ached, and his stomach still churned. His head was still too warm, and his lungs cried out in discomfort. But he didn't feel quite so bad as he did before Hiromasa arrived.
And perhaps, with a curse such as this one, that was okay.
XXX