Komui's Cure

One dark and dreary day in the Black Order...


Note: This is my first D. Gray Man story. Truthfully, I have mixed feelings about this series, since it is new to me. There are a lot of things I really enjoy about it, and other things that I don't. But, if I write, it'll just be about the things that I like! So, feedback is -greatly- appreciated, since I haven't really gotten all of the characters' personalities down pat just yet. Thanks!

D. Gray Man and all of its characters © Hoshina Katsuro


Part I

This was hell, total hell. Komui groaned and buried his face in his hands, attempting to make himself smaller in the mound of papers on his desk. It was one thing to have all of these documents to sign, that was bad enough, but to have to do them while sick?


The science department supervisor coughed hoarsely and reached for another tissue. "Reever, I'm dying," he moaned.

The science head sighed, placing another thick stack of papers on the supervisor's desk. "It's just a cold, shachou. Stop complaining."

"But it's annoying!" Komui whined. "Why must I be afflicted with such a malady?"

"Maybe it's God's way of punishing you for building Komurin V," Reever snickered. His response was a loud sneeze, followed by two more. Reever ducked just in time.

"Although, shachou shouldn't overwork himself either," the scientist added hastily. He did not want the head passing his little ailment throughout the entire Order.

"Where is by coffee?" Komui asked nasally. "Lenalee said she was cobing with it sood."

Eager to put as much distance as possible from himself and the supervisor, Reever replied, "I'll go see where she is," and quickly made his exit.

Komui sniffled and shuffled through the first of his papers. These were requests from those council members. Hah, those bastards, Komui wished illness on them all. Those members didn't deserve anything better, anyways. Why, why oh why must this happen to him? He never got sick! Perhaps he had stayed up too late working on Komurin V…

The telephone rang on his desk suddenly, buried somewhere beneath the knolls of documents. Komui scrambled for the phone, papers and ink flying, managing to catch it on the sixth ring.

"Ah, if it isn't Bak-chan!"

"Komui? Is that really you?" asked the voice on the other end disbelievingly. "You don't sound very good (and don't call me 'chan')."

"Why thank you, Bak-chan—"

"—what did I say about the 'chan'—"

"I'm afraid I'm not doing too well," Komui sighed, fingering a lock of dark hair that flopped in front of his pale face. "Have you ever had a cold, Bak?"

He could almost hear the eyebrows rise on the other line. "Of course, you wet end."

"Doesn't it suck?"

"Well, we aren't heads of our departments for nothing," Bak replied. "Why don't you whip up something that'll cure you? It'll take your mind off being sick."

Komui brightened at once. "Bak-chan! You're a genius! That's precisely what I'll do!"

"Although I'm sure you have loads of paperwork that you're procrastinating."

"Maybe I can program Komurin V to do it for me…" Komui could practically hear Bak's groan all the way from China.

"Not those blasted Komurins again. Anyways, good luck. I just called to check up since there's been nothing else to do today," Bak said.

Komui drew in air to respond and coughed instead, unfortunately right into the mouthpiece of the telephone.

"Gaah, Komui!" Bak flinched on the other end. "You know how sensitive these lines are! Just go already!"

"I will, thank you, Bak-chan!"

"Don't call me 'chan!'"

Komui placed the phone back on its cradle, smiling despite his pounding headache, clogged sinuses, and runny nose.

"Well, off to the lab to concoct a remedy," he muttered to himself optimistically, leaving his office and gliding down the stone corridors of the castle, sniffling and coughing. "I'll be better in no time."

To be continued: And as we all know, when Komui gets an idea, nothing good usually comes out of it…