Shiraishi insisted he was fine, just a little tired. It happened, that his job wore him out on some days, Yukimura knew that.

He really wasn't though. When Shiraishi practically collapsed in his arms, and when his forehead was burning up when checked for a fever, Yukimura knew he wasn't quite alright.

Which is how he ended up bridal carrying him to the bed.

"I'm sorry, Seiichi..."
"You idiot. You should've just told me you weren't feeling well."

He tucked Shiraishi in the covers.

"I thought I was..." Shiraishi laughed faintly, "but then my limbs got too heavy to move... "
"Don't sweat it. You can't help getting sick, you know?
Just stay where you are and get some rest. I'll come again in a few hours to check up on you. Call me if you need anything."
He smiled at Shiraishi.

"Not that I can really go anywhere though..." Shiraishi joked, but broke out in a coughing fit.
"Hush," Yukimura said, placing his hand on Shiraishi's cheek, "You should sleep."

"Mmh..." Shiraishi leaned in to his touch as Yukimura stroked his cheek with his thumb. "To be honest, there's nothing I'd rather do at the moment... Are you gonna sing me a lullaby...?"

Yukimura chuckled. "Of course."

Yukimura wished he could help.
Carefully, as to not wake Shiraishi, he put a damp towel on Shiraishi's forehead.

Shiraishi's sleep wasn't a very peaceful one. It pained Yukimura to see Shiraishi struggling this much in fighting off whatever disease caught hold of him.

Shiraishi almost never got sick, after all.

Suddenly, Yukimura's blood ran cold in his veins.

It couldn't be... serious, could it?

Yukimura looked over at Shiraishi's face, and swallowed.
No, it couldn't be...

The memories of his time in the hospital vividly played inside of Yukimura's head.

No, no, no, no, no.
That can't happen. That won't happen.
It's just something regular.

Yukimura let out a breath.

Calm down, Seiichi.
He's gonna be fine.

Shiraishi was vast asleep the next time he came, and he would have let him lie for another while, were it not that Shiraishi had to eat something.

"Kuranosuke, are you asleep?"

He put the pan on the counter and knelt down to softly shake Shiraishi awake, but he groaned before long.

"Good evening. Are you feeling a bit better?"

Shiraishi struggled a bit to sit upright. "Just a little. Seems it'll take a bit longer before I can do stuff again."

Yukimura sat himself on the edge of the bed.
"At least you're able to sit upright. And, you seem a lot sharper than earlier."
"Do I? I still feel awful..."
"You do. Ah, let me..."

He put his hand on Shiraishi's forehead.
"Your fever has lowered, too.
To be honest, I'm relieved you're doing better already."

Yukimura sighed and buried his face in his hand. "I wouldn't have known what to do if it had worsened... Thank god it's just a cold..."

"Were you worried?"
"Out of my mind. Just in case, I came every half an hour to check up, until I decided you should probably eat something."
"You cooked?"
"This smell...

He nodded and picked up the bowl from the counter.
"Do you think you can eat it on your own, or do I have to feed you?"
"You can feed me any time you want, Seiichi."
"Should I take that as a joke or should I get the spoon?"
"A joke, a joke."

Yukimura put the bowl in Shiraishi's lap, and Shiraishi took it in his hands. "It's warm."
"It's... not exactly perfect."
He took a spoonful, softly blew on it, and put it in his mouth.

"There were no carrots, so I had to substitute them with leek, but I wasn't sure whether they have the same cooking time..."
"And I think I accidentally put in too much salt, I mean, I didn't check but-"

Shiraishi smiled at him.
"It's delicious."

"You should stop worrying about things being perfect or not, Seiichi.
I know you don't usually cook, and stay with things you're used to doing, but...
It doesn't have to be perfect. You're not a chef cook, neither am I but that's beside the point, and you can't become one overnight.

It's delicious, Seiichi.

And maybe you did go overboard with the salt."
Shiraishi stuck his tongue out and smiled.

He gently elbowed him in the ribcage.
"Ow! Hey, hey, I'm sick, you know?"

He threw him a pout.

"You don't seem sick at all."