FICLET 7: SICK MUSINGS

Before he'd joined the community of Senninso Academy, Yuè would have been proud to say he'd never been sick a day in his life. He'd suffered from injuries and fatigue, yes, and from horrible thirst and hunger, but illness had never plagued him. It had never had the chance, thanks to him having been raised in a sterile laboratory and kept on a strict potions regimen for years.

So when Yuè had started sniffling and sneezing, he'd been rather offended by having somehow caught the common cold. He'd eaten a dozen oranges to try to get rid of it, but they hadn't done their job. Much to his irritation, he'd had to take the day off from his rounds around the academy to rest up.

He blamed the students and their lack of hand sanitizers.

Now he was lying on the couch covered in no less than six blankets. The wastebasket next to him was near to overflowing with used tissues. He drank from his thermos and downed another pair of aspirin, which Natsume had assured him would help with the headache and the fever. She'd checked in on him earlier this morning before she'd gone to work. He'd been left alone to wonder why humans, with all of their scientific prowess, still hadn't cured this troublesome virus.

Between naps and cups of tea, he attempted to read one of the books Natsume had recommended to him. That only made his headache worse, though. Grumbling, he turned on the television and began flipping through the channels. He didn't often use this device; he mostly did so for the news and the occasional documentary. Nothing in particular caught his attention now, though there was an American action film playing. He decided that he could do worse.

There were subtitles for it. After a while, he gathered that the plot was about a war between vampires and werewolves. For the next two hours, he watched the two sides trade bullets and watched the heroine enter into an unconvincing romance with a human. Evidently, he was a very special human who could become a vampire-werewolf hybrid. As Yuè watched the story unfold, he began questioning its logic at points…but even so, he enjoyed it enough to watch the sequel that followed.

It made even less sense, but the additional gore and the love scene made it a much guiltier pleasure. He watched with some interest as the (oh-so-convincing) lovers drove a truck into an abandoned building in the first act. Sunlight had burned the vampire woman, so the hybrid covered all of the windows with drop sheets and gallons of splattered paint. Of course, the vampire healed quickly, so she only had a mild burn by the time the hybrid had finished with the windows. That was when the love scene happened (because apparently paint fumes were arousing and leather suits were easy to get out of).

His thoughts wandered while he watched. The way the vampire's eyes went bright blue reminded him of how psychics' eyes glowed when they used their abilities. Her pale skin and black hair also reminded him of Natsume a little. Didn't she wear a leather suit when she battled at her gym…? He pondered that rumor for a while and then found himself imagining Natsume in the vampire's place, responding to her lover's touch….

But thinking about her being with some strange man like that made him feel uncomfortable. After a moment, he decided to put himself in the lover's place instead. That felt better – more right somehow. Of course, if he were to ever make love to Natsume, he would have the sense to make love where he was supposed to. That actor seemed to be trying to make love to his partner's stomach. If it weren't for her conventional attractiveness, it would have been a laughably awkward scene.

With nothing better to think about during the fight scenes, he let himself fantasize about Natsume some more. Of course, she was a shrine maiden, so her engaging in such sensual acts was unlikely…but even so, the thought had its appeal. Perhaps too much so, given how he went hard thinking about it.

He sniffled and cursed with annoyance. Having external genitalia was such a nuisance. They were far too vulnerable and, in the rare instances when he did feel aroused, it was so ridiculously noticeable. And demanding. How did human men stand it?

He gritted his teeth and tried to ignore it. He'd done so after the awkward dreams he'd had in recent weeks and he would certainly do so now. But a tiny voice in the back of his head whispered that no one could look in at him with all the curtains drawn. No one was likely to visit him in the middle of the day either. Plus, sexual pleasure released endorphins, which could alleviate his headache. He also hadn't explored himself that way…and he'd read that there was no harm in learning more about his own body….

…But could he face Natsume if he masturbated to the thought of her?

He frowned at the ceiling, but huffed and slid a hand beneath his waistband-

There was a burst of psychic energy and Natsume called out, "Yuè? How are you doing?"

He whipped his hand out of his pants and thanked whatever higher powers there were for the six blankets covering him. He tried to keep his voice even as he said, "I – I am alright. Bored, but alright."

She stood behind the sofa and leaned over it. She held up a plastic bag and said, "I brought you something to make your ordeal a little easier." She pulled out another box of tissues – these ones had lotion in them – along with a few cans of grape soda. There was also a box of crackers and a couple books filled with crossword puzzles. Finally, there was a bottle of liquid medicine.

"It will dry up the mucus and help you fall asleep," she explained. "But be careful not to take too much of it. I did once and was so dehydrated afterwards that it hurt to breathe in the morning."

That sounded most unpleasant. "I will take that under advisement," he said, accepting the bottle. "Have you finished with classes already?"

She sat down on the arm of the sofa. "Over half of my students are sick. I decided it would be best to cancel their classes so they could rest."

"That was considerate of you."

She smiled slightly. "They will have to make up for it later. Now how about you? Have you eaten anything yet?"

"A bag of oranges and a gallon of tea," he replied. His bladder had not appreciated it.

She made a humming noise and said, "I suppose that's a start. You need soup, though. Chicken noodle soup with vegetables." She pressed the inside of her wrist to his forehead and said, "You're still running a fever…."

Or he could be flushed from sexual frustration. He wasn't about to mention that, though. "Shall I give you money to purchase some soup for me? I understand canned soups are cheap in bulk."

"Nonsense," she said. "Canned soups are well and good, but homemade soup is better."

"…You are going to make me soup?"

She nodded. "It will take a couple hours. I have some vegetable stock in my freezer and I'll need to gather some other ingredients, but – well, I hope it will make you feel better."

He wasn't certain what to say to that. She stared down at him, as if waiting for a response, but then she stood and said, "I will be back shortly." Over the next half an hour, he stared at the boxes of tissues and crackers, feeling uneasy at her kindness and wondering what she would ask for in return. When she reappeared in the kitchen, she set two paper bags on the table. She glanced over at him as he sat up to watch her, and then shook her head when he asked her if she needed help.

"I'll be fine. Making soup isn't difficult – just time-consuming. You rest."

He didn't, though. Instead he watched her as she went through the steps of making the soup. She took out a large pot and a few bowls and cutting boards, as well as a number of utensils he hadn't realized he possessed. She placed the chicken breasts in the fridge and unwrapped several vegetables: celery, carrots, onions, garlic, parsley, peppers, and potatoes. She washed each of these and then sat down at the table. She stared intently at the vegetables as the knives, seemingly by themselves, began chopping and slicing and dicing them on the cutting boards.

Her telekinetic guidance had to be extremely precise. After all, each of the vegetables had a different texture, so if the knives weren't handled deftly, the vegetables might be shredded, the knives might break, and the cutting boards might be scratched and gouged. Yet Natsume's control was deft, so she worked quickly and without the risk of her cutting her fingers.

He found himself admiring her skill. Psychic energy had always been his in abundance, so he'd struggled to learn how to harness it for smaller feats. Grand displays of power had come much more easily to him. As such, her precision impressed him. She seemed to sense that, because she glanced at him and smiled.

The onions she chopped last, and despite the distance between them and herself, she still teared up. Yuè shifted with discomfort. He didn't like seeing her cry, even if it was a normal response to the fumes. He levitated a box of tissues over to her. She took a few and dabbled at her eyes. "Thank you," she said.

He nodded. She went and splashed some water on her face, which seemed to help. By this time, the blocks of vegetable stock had melted and were boiling in the pot. She then added the vegetables to it. "For future reference, if you decide to make soup stock for yourself, make sure the water isn't boiling when you add your ingredients in. The boiling will break up the vegetables and make the stock murky. When you're making soup, though, that isn't a concern."

She took out the meat and sliced it, cutting out the cartilage and the extra fat. She then seared the chunks and tipped them into the soup. Herbs and salt were added next, with the noodles being added in last. "And now we let this all cook together," she said.

It took a while before the soup was ready, but eventually Natsume scooped up two bowlfuls of it and placed one in front of him. She crumbled some of the crackers on tops of hers and, after a second, he did the same.

As she ate a spoonful of chicken and carrots, she made a satisfied noise and said, "It turned out rather well, I think. Try it, Yuè."

He obediently scooped up a bite of noodles and chicken and celery, blew on the steaming broth, and tried it. The noodles weren't overdone, the chicken was tender, and the celery was soft and tasted slightly like the meat. The broth, which mixed all of their flavors together, was particularly tasty. Realizing then that he was actually quite hungry, he ate with gusto, ignoring how the soup seared his tongue and the roof of his mouth. Soon enough Natsume had taken his empty bowl and refilled it. "I'll find a container to put some of this in and freeze the rest for you. It will keep for a while that way."

As she did that, he gathered up his nerves and asked, "How can I repay you for this?"

She blinked. "Repay me?"

He nodded and she seemed to consider that for a moment. Nervousness knotted up his stomach, but then she smiled and shook her head. "I didn't make you soup to earn a favor, Yuè. When someone is sick, someone else should do what they can to take care of them. It's…comforting. There's nothing more miserable than being alone when you're sick." Sensing his agitation, though, she sighed and added, "But if you insist, then the next time I'm sick, you can repay me by taking care of me. How does that sound?"

He nodded. That sounded fair to him. Though he was, admittedly, a bit uncomfortable with having that obligation hanging over him. It would be easier if he could just do some task for her when he was feeling better….

In his experience, humans did things for each other and expected those gestures to be returned. He'd never considered that to be a bad thing: debts kept people connected, if nothing else. Eventually they might even lose track of their debts and simply do things for each other out of good will. That was compassion: to help one another without the expectation of repayment. It was rare that he'd seen that, though, so for Natsume to do so now seemed…intimate somehow. They had no history of exchanged favors or gift-giving, after all.

He wasn't certain if he was ready that kind of relationship, but maybe…just maybe…it would be a good thing in the future.

"Thank you," he said to her quietly.

"Of course." She walked over to him and brushed a hand though his bangs. "I hope you feel better soon. I'll come and check on you in the morning."

He closed his eyes at her touch. "I am certain I will. I will see you then."

He could almost feel her smile, warm like sunlight, when she teleported away….

He felt much better when he woke up the next morning. His fever had broken, his sniffles had all but ceased, and his appetite had returned with a roar. He told Natsume as much when she visited him. When he heated up the soup, he made enough for both of them, and Natsume accepted the bowl he handed her with a smile. They ate together, not speaking but comfortable sitting with one another in silence.

It was a new experience for Yuè, but a good one. He liked having her as his friend.