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esp_dragonv2) wrote2022-10-29 09:05 am
esp_dragonv2) wrote2022-10-29 09:05 am
Sick
Fandom: Bungo Stray Dogs
Summary: Atsushi was sick.
Notes: Back in the fandom. :)
Rating: G
Genre: General
Word count: 877
Status: Complete
Atsushi was sick. He could feel it in his throat, how it itched and felt thicker than before, the fever making his skin prickle, and the headache that was creeping across his brain and beginning to dig in.
He still dragged himself out of bed and walked to the office. He made it in time, only a bit slower than usual. He'd felt worse, been injured worse at the orphanage and he'd still done his chores there. He would manage while his body fought off the illness.
...Would the tiger's ability get rid of the illness like it could regrow a limb?
If it did, it should have already, but maybe if he transformed...?
Atsushi sighed, screwing his eyes shut. It helped with both the headache and the lights being too bright for his eyes. He hadn't tried transforming when he was sick before. Would that make a difference? Would that even work? What if he tried to transform and it went wrong? Like, fangs instead of claws or - wait, wasn't that the same thing? Maybe something like, like... Atsushi's mind faltered, the headache pulsing, squeezing right behind his eyes.
Urgh. He shouldn't be thinking about this right now. He had to work instead. If things didn't get worse, he would be fine.
Atsushi opened his eyes -
"Ack!" He almost fell backwards, seeing Dazai's face right in front of his. The only reason why he didn't was because Dazai reached forward, leaning his hands on Atsushi's armrests, making sure the chair didn't tip over. "D-Dazai-san?" Had he been that distracted to not hear Dazai climbing onto his desk?
"Leave the brat alone, Dazai," Kunikida-san's voice drifted over the desk, the typing in the room still continuing on as normal.
"But Kunikida-kuuun," Dazai-san said, tilting his head to peer across the table, "aren't you also wondering what's wrong with Atsushi-kun?"
"Eh? I'm fine?" He'd been worse. He could still work.
Well. Not with Dazai-san crouching over his laptop...
Atsushi flinched, both at the unexpected touch at his forehead, and at how cool Dazai-san's palm was. Had he done something wrong? Was it because he'd lied and he'd been caught?
Dazai-san sucked in a breath, keeping his hand there. "You're burning up."
"I'm just a little sick," Atsushi admitted, his tongue almost not working in time. "It'll be over fast - I can still wo-"
"Both of you," Kunikida-san's voice cut over him, "out."
Oh.
* * *
Atsushi watched Dazai-san's back as they walked to the dorms. It was easier to follow him than try to remember what direction to go. The headache was getting worse, his brain rattling with every step he took, and he gritted his teeth, trying to keep his breathing even. Everything ached with illness, pulling at him, and he was worse than he thought.
It still didn't feel as bad as being thrown out of the office. He'd let everyone down. He should have been able to keep working, but he must have been too obvious that he was sick. Though, why didn't they tell him to keep working...?
Atsushi bumped into Dazai-san's arm, letting out a hiss as pain jolted through his entire body. Why had Dazai-san stopped?
"We're here, Atsushi-kun."
Oh. He peered around, seeing the familiar dorm building as he fumbled with his keys. He found them, but just as he was removing them from his pocket, Dazai-san plucked them from his fingers.
"H-hey!"
"I think it'll be faster if I do it, Atsushi-kun," Dazai said softly, already unlocking the door.
Atsushi stared at the open door, his headache pulsing with his heartbeat. "Why are you..." This was wrong. It didn't make sense. Nothing was making sense.
"Hm?"
"Why did Kunikida-san send us back here? I can still work like this. And - and you weren't doing much either." Nothing worse than Dazai-san's usual morning antics. But the headache and illness were stealing Atsushi's words, making it hard to speak, and he could feel he was wavering on his feet. He just couldn't do anything about it. Maybe he was still completely useless.
A sigh, and a steadying weight of Dazai-san's hand on on Atsushi's shoulder. "You're sick, Atsushi-kun," Dazai-san said, guiding him into the dorm. "You won't be at your best or think as clearly."
He could! ...Barely. Even now, Atsushi's thoughts were drifting, not forming completely. All he could see was his room now, Dazai-san's words sailing over his head, buzzing in his ears.
A pat on his shoulder, dragging Atsushi's attention back to Dazai-san. "Get some rest. I'll come back later to see how you're doing."
"I..." He wanted to apologise, to promise he could do better, that he wouldn't get sick again, but he couldn't get the words out, couldn't even think of what to say.
"Sleep, Atsushi-kun." More guidance towards his room, Atsushi more stumbling out of his shoes than deliberately taking them off.
He isn't sure what happened next, if he made his bed, or if Dazai-san did, but all Atsushi knew was he was staring up at his ceiling as it faded in and out of focus, the click of the door echoing out through the dorm.
Yeah. He'd just rest his eyes for five minutes. Then he would try going back to the office...
Summary: Atsushi was sick.
Notes: Back in the fandom. :)
Rating: G
Genre: General
Word count: 877
Status: Complete
Atsushi was sick. He could feel it in his throat, how it itched and felt thicker than before, the fever making his skin prickle, and the headache that was creeping across his brain and beginning to dig in.
He still dragged himself out of bed and walked to the office. He made it in time, only a bit slower than usual. He'd felt worse, been injured worse at the orphanage and he'd still done his chores there. He would manage while his body fought off the illness.
...Would the tiger's ability get rid of the illness like it could regrow a limb?
If it did, it should have already, but maybe if he transformed...?
Atsushi sighed, screwing his eyes shut. It helped with both the headache and the lights being too bright for his eyes. He hadn't tried transforming when he was sick before. Would that make a difference? Would that even work? What if he tried to transform and it went wrong? Like, fangs instead of claws or - wait, wasn't that the same thing? Maybe something like, like... Atsushi's mind faltered, the headache pulsing, squeezing right behind his eyes.
Urgh. He shouldn't be thinking about this right now. He had to work instead. If things didn't get worse, he would be fine.
Atsushi opened his eyes -
"Ack!" He almost fell backwards, seeing Dazai's face right in front of his. The only reason why he didn't was because Dazai reached forward, leaning his hands on Atsushi's armrests, making sure the chair didn't tip over. "D-Dazai-san?" Had he been that distracted to not hear Dazai climbing onto his desk?
"Leave the brat alone, Dazai," Kunikida-san's voice drifted over the desk, the typing in the room still continuing on as normal.
"But Kunikida-kuuun," Dazai-san said, tilting his head to peer across the table, "aren't you also wondering what's wrong with Atsushi-kun?"
"Eh? I'm fine?" He'd been worse. He could still work.
Well. Not with Dazai-san crouching over his laptop...
Atsushi flinched, both at the unexpected touch at his forehead, and at how cool Dazai-san's palm was. Had he done something wrong? Was it because he'd lied and he'd been caught?
Dazai-san sucked in a breath, keeping his hand there. "You're burning up."
"I'm just a little sick," Atsushi admitted, his tongue almost not working in time. "It'll be over fast - I can still wo-"
"Both of you," Kunikida-san's voice cut over him, "out."
Oh.
Atsushi watched Dazai-san's back as they walked to the dorms. It was easier to follow him than try to remember what direction to go. The headache was getting worse, his brain rattling with every step he took, and he gritted his teeth, trying to keep his breathing even. Everything ached with illness, pulling at him, and he was worse than he thought.
It still didn't feel as bad as being thrown out of the office. He'd let everyone down. He should have been able to keep working, but he must have been too obvious that he was sick. Though, why didn't they tell him to keep working...?
Atsushi bumped into Dazai-san's arm, letting out a hiss as pain jolted through his entire body. Why had Dazai-san stopped?
"We're here, Atsushi-kun."
Oh. He peered around, seeing the familiar dorm building as he fumbled with his keys. He found them, but just as he was removing them from his pocket, Dazai-san plucked them from his fingers.
"H-hey!"
"I think it'll be faster if I do it, Atsushi-kun," Dazai said softly, already unlocking the door.
Atsushi stared at the open door, his headache pulsing with his heartbeat. "Why are you..." This was wrong. It didn't make sense. Nothing was making sense.
"Hm?"
"Why did Kunikida-san send us back here? I can still work like this. And - and you weren't doing much either." Nothing worse than Dazai-san's usual morning antics. But the headache and illness were stealing Atsushi's words, making it hard to speak, and he could feel he was wavering on his feet. He just couldn't do anything about it. Maybe he was still completely useless.
A sigh, and a steadying weight of Dazai-san's hand on on Atsushi's shoulder. "You're sick, Atsushi-kun," Dazai-san said, guiding him into the dorm. "You won't be at your best or think as clearly."
He could! ...Barely. Even now, Atsushi's thoughts were drifting, not forming completely. All he could see was his room now, Dazai-san's words sailing over his head, buzzing in his ears.
A pat on his shoulder, dragging Atsushi's attention back to Dazai-san. "Get some rest. I'll come back later to see how you're doing."
"I..." He wanted to apologise, to promise he could do better, that he wouldn't get sick again, but he couldn't get the words out, couldn't even think of what to say.
"Sleep, Atsushi-kun." More guidance towards his room, Atsushi more stumbling out of his shoes than deliberately taking them off.
He isn't sure what happened next, if he made his bed, or if Dazai-san did, but all Atsushi knew was he was staring up at his ceiling as it faded in and out of focus, the click of the door echoing out through the dorm.
Yeah. He'd just rest his eyes for five minutes. Then he would try going back to the office...