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leechaocolate · 10 years ago

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5 times Yuuto claimed he’s fine and the 1 time he accepted help

“Alright,” Asuhi says, and then he’s climbing onto the bed and curling up beside Yuuto. “Get some more rest,” he whispers, and then he’s out. Yuuto’s still kind of in shock, barely feeling how soft and warm Asuhi is, all tucked up against him. Slowly, his eyes close, and the rest of his senses fade until everything is just him and Asuhi, and the warmth lulls him to sleep.

Wanted to write some nice Yuuasus so that yuutoakama would go to sleep. Ended up with this monster of a fic. Amazing.

Word Count: 3324

They’re having breakfast, Usamaru excitedly rambling about… something. (At some point, Yuuto learned to tune him out.) He’s loud, though, even with the piece of toast hanging out of his mouth, and it’s hurting Yuuto’s head. There’s a plate in front of him, a bagel with a few bites taken. The food here is wonderful as always, judging from the others scarfing down their own meals, but he just can’t seem to swallow down his own meal. Heck, swallowing in general is difficult. He should get a cough drop or something later. In any case, he doesn’t even feel that hungry, so it should be fine.

“Akama-daihyou? Are you alright?” He looks up to see Tonkyun’s eyes fixed on him. They’re unnerving, really, crimson and narrow and emotionless and- Wait.

“Huh?”

“Are you alright, sir?” The younger stands up, finished with his own meal, and Yuuto bristles at the height difference. Tonkyun most likely isn’t trying to intimidate him, most likely doesn’t even know how scary he seems, expressionless face and low, monotone voice and that height- “Sir?”

“Huh? Yea, I’m fine.” Yuuto smiles, hoping it’d throw him off. Those red eyes remain on him for a bit longer before finally turning away as Tonkyun nods.

“If you say so, sir. Please do not hesitate to ask for an early leave.” Ah, so he did notice. Darn.

“Thank you.” For the sentiments, and for not pushing it. He gets up as well, dumping the rest of his food into the trash and leaving with a wave at the others. Maybe he’ll take a nap before class starts.

II.

“Psst. Yuuto. The teacher’s calling on you.”

“H-huh?” Oh, great.

“I said, could you please read this page aloud for us.” His eyes are on Yuuto’s, as are the rest of the class’s. Shit, what page are they on? He eyes Kumano-san’s book for the page number, flipping his own book to the spot before shakily standing up. The room blurs for a moment, shakes for a bit before returning to normal.

He reads, his voice sounding to him like it’s a thousand miles away. After finishing, he sits, hoping the class didn’t notice the level of exhaustion in his voice. Thankfully, his head doesn’t feel as warm now that he’s back to sitting. As the next target is picked to read, a folded note slides under his book. Kumano-san is focused on her own textbook as he unfolds the message.

“Oy, Yuuto. You okay there? (rawr)” He smiles and does not comment on how un-bear-like it is for this all to be so neat. Instead, he picks up a pencil and scribbles back.

“Yea, of course.” Next to it, he doodles a bear, the best bear he can draw. Then, he refolds it and pushes it back.

“Uh-huh, sure,” says the reply.

“Really, I am.”

“You’re gonna say your face is bright red for some other reason too?”

“...shut up.”

“Whatever. Nyamirin-senpai’s gonna call you out on it later, anyways. Just don’t get yourself too badly hurt in the meantime.”

“... thanks.” There’s a cuter bear now, waving his thanks. He tried to make it cuter, anyways. Kumano-san pockets the note and turns the page of her textbook, cueing him to do so as well. The rest of the class period if uneventful as he tunes out the lesson in favor of staring at nothing.

III.

There’s rarely ever a moment where Yuuto can truly call Usamaru quiet. In all honesty, the atmosphere wouldn’t seem right without Usamaru’s loud, vibrant energy. The kid goes on and on about his admiration for youth and passion and whatnot without noticing the amount of light he gives off himself. It’s sad, really, and Yuuto can see hints of some kind of inferiority complex in there, a bit of something that Tonkyun is trying to fix.

Still, right now he’s quieter than he usually is, and Yuuto finds himself being thankful for it. He doesn’t think his head today could handle Usamaru’s normal levels of noise. The kid sends him a worried look every once in a while, and he sighs. It’s one thing for Kumano to notice, sharing the same class as all, and Tonkyun’s pretty observant. But for Usamaru to realize something’s wrong?

Then again, maybe Yuuto doesn’t give him enough credit. The rabbit’s certainly subtle when he wants to be. Yuuto might not have noticed if it weren’t for Tonkyun who, it seems, doesn’t care for subtle when he has his mask to cover for him. How nice.

The pig in question continues throughout the day to ask Usamaru if he’s alright, to which Usamaru replies with his usual enthusiasm. What goes unnoticed, however, is the extra cherry tomato when he takes his eyes off his food, that silent prayer to eat; the glass of juice Usamaru slides next to him after a rough practice with an uncooperative throat. He volunteers for Yuuto’s usual, along with a sheepish “Is that fine?”, knowing that Yuuto doesn’t have the strength to deliver that many lines.

It’s flattering, but what’s most flattering is that he never actually comes out and asks if Yuuto is alright. There’s the looks, of course, but the words never come. There’s “Let’s take a break!” when he feels that Yuuto’s growing tired, and there’s “I have something I need to do tonight! I’m sorry, but can we please end practice early?” but there’s never an “Are you okay?”

It’s as if the rabbit is scared of him (and Yuuto wouldn’t blame him). He’s noticed that Usamaru still hasn’t awakened an ability yet, so everyone with an ability must seem like a monster to him. Yuuto must then be doubly a monster, as he has more than twice their experience in combat and therefore has mastered his ability to a greater degree. How frightening must he seem, he muses.

That, of course, brings him back to Asuhi’s face when he first defeated him. Nope, go away. He takes a sip of his water bottle, coughing when his throat decides to continue being a little shit. He sees Usamaru perk up before suggesting that they end practice early. He knows whatever excuse Usamaru gave is a bullshit one, because Tonkyun’s giving him a look which means those two will be talking later.

Still, maybe Yuuto’s tuning out of Usamaru’s noise causes him to miss a thing or two. Like that so-called seriousness Usamaru claimed to sometimes possess, back during introductions, an idea that everyone laughed off. Right now, those mismatched eyes are sending him another look that suggests it to not be so laughable.

Maybe it’s the fever talking. He needs a nap.

IV.

Nyamirin noticed; Of course she had. She seems so sleepy and out of it, always, but there’s logic to her odd statements and method to every move she makes. He expressed the idea of a family type of club to her first, and she responded with animal hats, a motif to bring them closer together. He told her he wanted to be strong, to be trusted, and she taught him how to wield a scythe, taught him her ability. He bared his true, lonely self to her first, and she tried her best to love him, even when it wasn’t enough.

Sometimes, he thinks, she’s way too good for him.

Like now, when every flick of her wrist is telling him that she is displeased with his life choices, despite the sleepy look on her face.

“Mmmeow~” She purrs as she stretches before declaring, “Yea, I’m agreeing with Usamaru.” There’s a “for once” in there that no one bothers to point out, though Usamaru deflates once he feels it, a good couple seconds after the rest of them have. “It’s a nice night for a nap, ain’t it?” And now that’s the suggestion that he should go get some rest. “Don’t you think, Yuuto?”

“Mm… I suppose,” he murmurs. Kumano-san’s acting like she doesn’t quite care, while Usamaru sends him another worried look. Tonkyun and Nyamirin’s eyes both seem sterner when directed upon him. “Yea, let’s end it. Good work today, everyone. Please remember to clean the stage properly and put everything away.” As he gets up to help, Nyamirin pushes him back down, perching herself on his lap.

“I got this, so why don’t you make your leave first?” Ouch. She notices what her words could’ve meant and quickly amends it. “Your help is always appreciated, but we also all want you to feel better.” Ah, there’s the punch.

“You sure you don’t need my help today?” Don’t you need me? Her eyes soften.

“Your presence here is appreciated by all of us,” she repeats, “but I think we can make do for today. We all do love you, though. And you do need a break.”

He’s about to argue that last point when she makes a face and squeezes his shoulders and he knows he lost.

“Yuuuuto, come oooon. How about this, you rest for tonight, and then next club bonding event is entirely your choice.” And that gets his attention. Generally, Nyamirin comes up with the ideas and he deals with the execution. For her to give him full responsibility for an event…

“Can I?” he asks, and he knows the points of his teeth are showing; right now, he can’t quite care.

“Mhm. Now go take a nap,” he’s about to say something snarky about how that’s always her go-to advice for anything when she hops off his lap and strides away to deal with the others’ shenanigans.

And with that, the conversation is done. He smiles at her back, mature and responsible despite her ditzy appearance. It’s what he’s always admired about her. Even when lost in the woods, she still remained graceful. She’s firm about her decisions, each idea from her leading to a good turn for the club. He hopes, when she inevitably leaves, that he will continue to lead the club in a similar fashion. For now, she’s giving him another look that says his feverish mind is thinking too much and that he should leave.

So he does.

It’s bad luck that he meets up with Eruna and Asuhi on the way to his room. He can feel himself swaying, the air so cold against his skin. The floor seems even colder, and he’s tempted to take his nap right there.

“Akama-kun! Good work today!” Eruna’s as lively as ever, and he nearly winces at her volume.

“Y-yea, you too,” he says, and hopes that she’ll cut it short today. He’s not sure how long of a conversation he can handle.

He doesn’t mean to zone either of them out. He tries to listen to them, but they end up blurring in and out, a blob of pink and a blob of teal. He’s still wobbling despite standing still. The air’s cold, so cold, and everything sounds like static.

“...kun? Akama-kun, are you alright?” And he would nod, but he knows that she can see through his shit, every lie he makes. He tried to be extra careful around her at first, until he realized how futile it was. No matter how hard he tried, she pointed out every lie of his.

And, he supposes, that’s what’s so refreshing about her. Kumano-san’s tough act means that she can’t straight out say that she’s worried about him, while Nyamirin’s too mindful of his feelings to be blunt, even when he knows she can see through his lies. Usamaru seems to be leading down the same path as Nyamirin, although both he and Tonkyun are also too polite to say much.

It’s Eruna who’s entirely willing to call him out.

Even now, she’s giving him this disapproving look that looks copied from Nyamirin. There’s a few things off here and there, but it serves its purpose well enough.

“Just a little off. Gonna rest tonight and it’ll probably be gone by tomorrow,” he explains. Asuhi bites his lip (which is adorable) as Eruna frowns.

“Alright, then, if you say so…” She’s about to say something more when he blinks and the world spins.

There’s shouting, and he feels the spots above his eyes burn with intensifying heat despite his spot on the ground. Pounding footsteps don’t do any more help to his head. Then there’s cold fingers against his cheeks, lifting him off the floor. It’s cold, so cold, and he finds himself drifting off with this nice feeling lapping at him like a wave.

He dreams of his mother warping with the shadows. Her hands are claws as she leads his little brother away. He dreams of his brother’s face warping, that precious, innocent smiling turning into something grotesque as the skin melts and falls apart here and there. There is shifting, and there is fire, and then his little brother is gone, mutated face and all. His mother is also gone. Instead, it’s he with the melted, scarred face and the claws-for-hands and now he can feel the fire ripping through him.

He wakes to the stereotype of a cool cloth on his hand and Asuhi rambling at mach speed to someone, presumably over the phone. Yuuto can’t make out quite what the younger is saying, but he listens anyways, loving the musical sound of Asuhi’s voice. At last, the stream of words slows, with Asuhi instead making agreeing noises as he listens to the other side of the call. The boy apologizes a bit more before hanging up.

Yuuto groans to show that he’s awake. That brings Asuhi running to his side. That also causes his throat to start burning like Tonkyun’s Ad-lib Role.

“Akama-senpai! You’re awake!” The cool cloth moves, running across his face, before

disappearing and reappearing as a cooler cloth.

“Asuhi…” he mumbles.

“Good, you recognize me this time.” Wait. What. “Feeling better?”

“Recognize...you?” Asuhi continues to dab at his face with the towel.

“You kept waking up and calling me by some other name. Tonkyun said that it was probably because of your fever.” Oh. Oh no, then-

“What… what name?” Asuhi frowns.

“I’m really sorry, senpai, but please try not to talk too much while your throat is like this? I’ll get you something to drink in a second.” Then, Asuhi’s leaning in and his brain shuts down for the exact amount of time it takes Asuhi to say the name. It’s enough, though. He knows exactly what name he’d been calling Asuhi.

Dammit.

Then Asuhi returns holding a glass of what appears to be juice. He helps Yuuto sit up and take sips of it through a straw. His throat burns a little at first before the pain begins to calm a little. As Asuhi places the rest of the juice onto the nightstand, Yuuto realizes that he’s in a bed. Huh, maybe that’d explain the dreams. He did always dream more when in beds.

...This isn’t his bed.

Asuhi’s fingers press against his forehead, soft and cool and please just stay there, as Asuhi continues talking.

“...worried us all.” He’s back to rambling, it seems. “After you fainted, Nyamirin told us that we probably shouldn’t leave you alone for the rest of the night, so I volunteered to help take care of you. Ah, but Tonkyun had to help by carrying you to my room. I’m really sorry.”

Yuuto’s not quite sure what Asuhi’s apologizing for this time; he’s rarely ever when it comes to Asuhi’s apologies. Loves the boy dearly, but really wish he’d learn that he doesn’t quite have to do that so much. They all forgive him for whatever he thinks he did wrong. Will always forgive him, even if he says that he murdered someone or something equally bad, because Asuhi is an angel.

“...senpai. Akama-senpai.” Oh, oops. He zoned out again. He coughs.

“Ah, Yes?” Asuhi smiles at him, and Yuuto blesses his patience as well as the rest of the list of Asuhi’s good traits, rolling straight out the door. Asuhi truly has the patience of a saint to be dealing with this.

Um. Speaking of which, he… wasn’t exactly paying attention again, huh… Shit.

He apologizes, and Asuhi scrambles to tell him not to while apologizing another two times in the same sentence. Okay.

“I was saying that it’s good that your fever’s finally gone down,” Asuhi explains. Patience of a saint.

“How long was I out?” Asuhi gathers one of Yuuto’s hands into his own, and Yuuto tries not to blush like a teenage girl.

“Mm… It’s about noon the next day.”

At this, Yuuto starts, fumbling with the sheets and trying to get up, get out, because hell if he’ll allow himself to stay bedridden for that long. Asuhi struggles against him to get him back onto the bed, and this ends with Asuhi’s forearms with the majority of his bodyweight pressing against Yuuto’s own, pinning him down. Asuhi’s breathing is a little off from the scuffle, and Yuuto can feel his own becoming worse as he realized what they look like.

“...sorry, I’m really sorry,” Asuhi is saying, “but please don’t go until you’re feeling better. Akama-senpai, please.” And man, now Yuuto really feels like the bad guy.

Not trusting his throat, he nods and Asuhi climbs down from the bed, rubbing at where his forearms were holding Yuuto down.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. Yuuto doesn’t say anything, instead letting his own hand drift up and rub against Asuhi’s face. His knuckles brush against Asuhi’s cheek, and Asuhi says nothing, only smiles with faint bits of pink at the corners of his eyes and on his nose as he lets Yuuto do whatever.

And then Yuuto’s stomach rumble.

Yuuto is mortified, springing his hand back to his side. Asuhi doesn’t laugh, instead stating that he made soup for Yuuto and leaving to go ladle out a bowl of it.

What an angel.

He feeds the soup to Yuuto, spoon by spoon, pausing to wipe at Yuuto’s mouth with a napkin.

It’s as humiliating as it sounds. But also, it’s helpful. Because no matter how wonderful his brother was, he was still only a kid, and so usually Yuuto had to help take care of him when he was sick. This person caring for him therefore cannot be his brother. It’s Asuhi. The person standing before him is Asuhi.

“Akama-senpai? What’re you smiling about?” It’s then that Yuuto realizes the tug in each side of his cheeks.

“I-it’s nothing,” he tells Asuhi, who frowns, but says nothing, returning after cleaning the bowl and putting it away.

“It was a nice smile,” he says instead. Yuuto’s not sure how to reply to that.

“This is your bed, right?” Yuuto can feel the itch in his throat again as he struggles to get the words out. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

“A little,” Asuhi admits. Yuuto remembers from past conversations as well as their last sleepover that Asuhi is a bit of an insomniac. That doesn’t make him feel any better.

Lying back down, he gets himself comfortable with Asuhi’s help before suggesting, “You should join me in bed.” A beat later, he feels the blood rushing back to his cheeks. Smooth. “I, I mean. Like. Get some sleep. Actual sleep, not.” He fumbles a bit, waving his arms a little. Asuhi’s cheeks are red, too, though there’s a flattered expression on his face. He leaves again, and Yuuto hears the water running in what seems to be the bathroom, before the younger returns.

#yuuasu #yuuto akama #asuhi imizu #imizu asuhi #akama yuuto #lee writes #leechaogura

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