#may or may not be thinking of a companion piece ft. tsuzuru…

[athela-3]

laughter is (not) the best medicine

1.4k words; gen/comedy; it's 3 am, y'know what this means; fourth wall? what's a fourth wall?; no content warnings.

Kazunari can't talk, can't laugh, can't make a sound for the next few weeks. This is easier said than done, especially with friends as chaotic as his.

“Wait,” Sakuya blinks, ”you mean he can't say anything?”

The Director nods. “Only for a couple weeks. But yes, he can't talk until the doctor gives him the all-clear again.”

For a few seconds, the entire living room falls silent. Five pairs of eyes stare at the Director, then at Kazunari, shuffling his feet next to her, and back again.

“What?” Muku's eyes are round as bottlecaps. “Did—did the doctor find an alien spore nesting in his throat? Is it going to slowly take him over bit by bit until he turns into a green winged monster and take us back to his home planet to—”

No, no, Kazunari shakes his head with what he hopes is a reassuring smile. He steps forward and places his hands on Muku's shoulders. I'm fine, he mouths. It's OK, Mukkun! I'll be all right!

Muku blinks, the panic washing off his features gradually replaced with confusion. “Um, Kazu, I don't know what you're saying…”

I'm fine, he mouths again, moving his mouth a bit more exaggeratedly this time. I'm (points at chest) fine (thumbs up), piko (wink)!

“You're… fine?” Muku repeats uncertainly. Kazunari nods, and his roommate sighs in relief. “I'm glad to hear that! Or… not hear. I'm… glad to see that?”

“So there's something wrong with your throat, and the cure is just to shut up for a couple weeks?” Banri, leaning against the far wall, chimes in. “You don't need medicine or anythin'?

Well, this is complex. Just as Kazunari ponders whether he should just answer him over LIME, the Director speaks up for him. “The nodule on his vocal cord doesn't seem to be very severe, so total rest for a few weeks should be enough. Then, when the doctor thinks it's safe, he'll start speech therapy.”

“Speech therapy?” Sakuya echoes.

“He might have to change the way he speaks,” she explains. “The nodule could have been caused by overuse of his voice, or by using it the wrong way. Speech therapy can help identify and fix any bad habits, to prevent something like this from happening again.”

“Oh. I see.” Sakuya turns to Kazunari. “I'm sure you'll do great! We're all rooting for you!”

Tasuku exhales a long, slow breath. “Vocal nodules are always a risk in acting. The God Troupe once put on a play that had a lot of screaming lines. One of the main cast got nodules halfway into the play's run and had to be replaced.”

“How terrible!” Citron exclaims. “It must be very disjointing for them!”

Disjointing? Kazunari almost laughs, but manages to stifle it in time and turns it into a silent grin instead. You mean disappointing, he mouths. Right?

“It must be… what?” Sakuya frowns, puzzled.

“What do joints have to do with anything?” Banri shakes his head.

“Beats me,” mutters Tasuku.

Guys! Kazunari waves his arms in the air, causing the others to face him. He means disappointing! Not joints! Disappointing!

“Elbow?” Muku hazards a guess. “Sad? Sad face? Elb—not elbow? Angry?”

“Oh, he is doing pantomime!” Citron's voice positively drips with excitement. “I want to try as well!” And with that, he starts gesturing wildly, holding an imaginary bowl in his hand and imaginary chopsticks in the other, slurping it, and grabbing at his neck.

It takes all of Kazunari's self-control not to burst out laughing out loud at that very moment. Not that he knows what Citron is trying to act out, but that's unnecessary when the sheer magnitude of the gestures are hilarious enough on their own. Ronron! Stop! You're too funny! I can't laugh right now!

“Soba?” Banri blinks, but Citron waves his hands no.

“Is it udon then?” Muku tries. “Are you choking on udon?”

Well, Citron does seem to be eating some kind of imaginary noodles, which then get stuck in his throst as he swallows—no. Kazunari's eyes widen. What? No way! He grabs Citron's wrist, shaking his head. Ronron, it's a nodule in my throat, not noodles!

“Huh. Whatever it is, it seems like Miyoshi's got the answer,” Tasuku observes.

“If only he can tell us what it is,” bemoans Banri.

But he can! Kazunari slides his hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone, thumbs flicking rapidly over the keyboard as he types. Next to him, the Director peers over his shoulder before suddenly emitting a low groan.

“Throat nodule,” she tells the others. “He thinks Citron is referring to his throat ‘noodle’.”

“That is correct! Kazunari, your interpretation skills are almost as good as Tsuzuru's!”

Banri throws his hands in the air, frustrated. “That ain't even the right word! How're we supposed to do charades if ya don't even have the right word?”

“I don't think we could have guessed even if he had,” Sakuya grins sheepishly.

“Pfft. It ain't that hard. Sakuya, you guess.” Banri detaches from the wall, stepping forward to a relatively clear spot in the room. Then, he starts flapping his arms and… making zipping gestures at his mouth? Is that what he's doing? Kazunari isn't sure, but that seems the likeliest interpretation.

“Um… Oh! Are you a chicken?” Sakuya calls out. “A… chicken with a zipped beak?”

“Yes!” Banri points at him, triumphant. “See? He got that first try! I told you, charades ain't hard, you just didn't know what you were doing!”

“Why are we doing charades in the first place?” Tasuku grumbles.

The Director laughs. “Ssh, let the kids have their fun,” she stage-whispers to him, which of course means everyone in the room can hear her completely clearly.

Excuse you! Kazunari's hand flies to his chest in overdramatic affront. We're all adults here! Except for Mukkun, that is. But most of us aren't kids any more!

“Miyoshi.” Neither Tasuku's face nor his voice could get any more deadpan if he tried. “Just type it down. We can't read your lips.”

“I–I'd like to try, though!” Muku raises his hand like a student with a question. “Reading lips sounds fun!”

“I'll try with you!” volunteers Sakuya. “What should I say? Hm… Oh! I know!”

Tasuku sighs, and the Director catches his eye. Ah, what's that? Are Kazunari's eyes tricking him, or did she just mouth something at him?

“Sakuya! Please stop moving your head! I can't read your lips!”

“Oh, I'm sorry! Let me try again!”

“Pfft. He's obviously sayin'—”

“No, no! Banri, you must not tell him! It will behoove the element of challenge!”

“…you mean ‘remove’?”

“Sakuya! Please stop moving your head!”

“Miyoshi? Are you all right?”

Kazunari opens his eyes to find everyone else staring at him with varying looks of concern and immediately slams his eyes shut again. No, no, he waves a dismissive hand at them, I can't look at you or I'll laugh! This is way worse than the hardest “If you laugh, you lose”-type videos he'd ever watched! How is he supposed to stay silent for several weeks if every day is gonna be like this?

He whips out his phone again. This time, instead of typing, he quickly picks out one of his favourite stickers and sends it to the groupchat. There's a brief moment of collective buzzing as it reaches everyone's phones simultaneously.

The Director pulls out her phone and opens the message. Kazunari watches as the corners of her eyes soften, a smile growing on her mouth. Then she steps forward and throws her arm around his shoulders in a side hug, smile breaking out into a grin.

“We love you too, Kazunari,” she tells him softly.