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Past the Limit

Summary:

"I won't take care of you if you end up getting sick from staying up too late."

Akira gets sick, and true to form doesn't expect to get help- or for people to care, really. Well, his teammates aren't so surprising. But no one else will. Besides, it's no big deal. It'll pass.

Notes:

Day 29 - Reluctant Bedrest

Sickfic! I haven’t written one of these before, but I’ve definitely thought about it.

Largely because of Sojiro’s line at the beginning of the game about not taking care of Akira if he gets sick. Along with everything else he said. I did not take it well and neither did my Akira because the tough-love approach has never worked with me, and it doesn’t work with him either. Instead he just internalizes it and assumes it means he can never go to Sojiro about anything ever.

Which, of course, means that pushing himself to collapse is something he can and will do, and he still won’t say anything.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Akira didn’t get sick.

Well, not often enough to be notable, at least. A few sniffles and a headache, a bit of tiredness- nothing worth being called sick.

So when he caught a lingering headache and an unsettled stomach partway through June, he brushed it off. It was probably a side effect of too many sodas in the Metaverse- Kaneshiro’s Palace was giving them hell, and trying to maintain SP while keeping up with the enemies meant lots of items, even with Takemi’s bandages.

Besides, it was June. No one got sick in June from anything besides pollen. Or heat stroke maybe. Definitely not a cold, or worse.

That attitude lasted three increasingly difficult days, until he woke up with a roiling stomach and a pounding headache, clothes clinging stickily to his skin from more than just the weather. He had to close his eyes and breathe slowly as he sat up and his stomach lurched.

“Akira?”

He peeked an eye open to find Morgana watching him with concern. “I’m fine, just not feeling well. It’ll pass.”

The not-cat flicked his tail doubtfully. “Looks like more than not feeling well to me. Your face is really pale.”

Akira grimaced and pushed himself out of bed, ignoring the ache of his body as he did so. “It’s fine, I’ll survive. It’s not like I can miss school anyway.” There was no way the school would accept it, even with a doctor’s note that he could probably get from Takemi. And Sojiro wouldn’t allow it anyway.

It would pass. It was fine.

Getting dressed was a slow and painstaking affair, and Morgana watched him with building concern as he fumbled with his uniform, nearly dropping his glasses at one point.

“What, no snappy comment?” He asked weakly as he held open the bag for his friend to jump in.

Morgana snorted. “Looking distinctly not-cool there, Joker.”

A tired quirk tugged at Akira’s mouth, though he didn’t have the energy for a full smile. “I’m aware. It’s good that we have time before the deadline, because we’re not going to Mementos or the Palace for a few days.”

“Good.” Morgana sent him a pointed look before ducking into the bag.

Meaning the not-cat was going to become even bossier the next few days. Great.

Sighing, Akira swung the bag up his arm- immediately cringing at the heavy weight on his protesting shoulder.

“I think someone needs to go on a diet,” he mumbled to himself as he focused on not stumbling on his way to the stairs.

“Hey, I heard that!” Morgana protested from within the bag. “And I do not ! It’s not my fault you’re weak from being sick!”

Maybe so, but it was annoying nonetheless.

The next problem arose when he reached the bottom of the stairs and was nearly overwhelmed by the scent of fresh coffee and curry that always lingered. Normally, it was comforting. But right now it was nauseating, and he had to squeeze his eyes shut and hiss out a breath to avoid gagging and potentially throwing up.

“Hey, you’re up- are you alright?”

Squinting his eyes open, he nodded to Sojiro. “I’m fine.”

“You sure don’t look it.” The man arched a brow, concern tinging his expression. “You’re pretty pale.”

Akira waved him off, moving towards the door. He was definitely skipping breakfast this morning. “It’s fine, just ate something that didn’t agree with me, I think. It’ll be gone by tomorrow.”

“Hmm…” Sojiro eyed him skeptically, but didn’t contest him as he slipped out the door. Which was a relief, because he didn’t have the energy to argue.

If he’d hoped that it would fade as the day passed, he was sorely disappointed.

He passed through his morning classes in a daze, extremely grateful that none of the teachers felt like calling him out today, but was still exhausted by lunch. The moment the bell rang and the teacher was out of the room, he rested his head on the desk- the cool surface a blessing on the raging inferno that was his skin, even though the rest of him was freezing.

“Hey, are you alright?” He tilted his head and peeked an eye open to find Ann turned to his desk, arms crossed on top of it. “You don’t look so good.”

“He’s sick,” Morgana piped up in response, poking his head above the desk as their classmates pretended not to see him (though whether it was because they were scared of Akira or because they liked having a cat in the classroom, he didn’t know).

“I’m fine,” Akira muttered.

Ann narrowed her eyes at him. “Well you definitely look sick.”

“I’m not sick. It’s June. No one gets sick in June.”

“That is definitely not true.” She reached out and pressed her hand to his forehead, immediately recoiling with a hiss. “You’re burning up! That is definitely a fever. Shouldn’t you go to the nurse?”

“No,” he mumbled defensively.

“Why not?”

Akira sighed and sat up, pulling off his glasses to rub at his eyes. God he was tired. And cold. “Ann, it’s Shujin. It won’t do any good. I could probably come in with a doctor’s note for some fatal disease and they’d still either brush it off or somehow twist it so it was my fault. It won’t help because they don’t care, and I can’t really afford to miss considering how the school would react- not to mention Sojiro.”

Her lips tugged down in a frown, and he regretted his slip for a moment. He was definitely being more vocal and honest about his opinions on the school, which was an annoying side-effect of being sick.

He was not normally this emotional.

“I get what you’re saying,” Ann sighed, eyebrows pulled together in concern. “Ugh… seriously, this sucks though. I know how awful it is when I get sick; you should be resting.”

Akira shrugged tiredly. “I’ll just go to bed early the next few days. It’ll pass.”

“Hmm,” she eyed him doubtfully. “I guess so, but still. So no Palace runs the next few days?”

He shook his head, and she nodded decisively.

“Alright, I’ll let the group know.” She winked. “You just focus on resting up.”

He softened and smiled weakly at her, trying to ignore the way his stomach was twisting. “Thanks, Ann.”

“No problem!”

When Ryuji and Makoto both accosted him outside his classroom after class, he was a bit less grateful. He hadn’t meant for her to make it sound worse than it was.

“Guys, I’ll be fine. It’s just something minor, it’ll pass.”

“Still dude, you should be in bed, not here!” Ryuji protested, all but pressed against his arm like he expected Akira to suddenly collapse. It was sweet, but unnecessary, though his body warmth was appreciated.

Makoto crossed her arms with a severe look. “Ryuji’s right, you should have stayed home and rested.”

Akira sent them a tired look. “Have you met Shujin’s administration?”

The frown on Ryuji’s face contorted into a grimace and he nodded understandingly. “Oh yeah, good point. They gave me hell last year when I had to take time off surgery for my leg.”

Makoto’s expression had been one of protest when Akira had finished speaking, but it had morphed into one of pain as Ryuji did, and she closed her mouth as though changing her mind. Akira sent her a sympathetic look. It wasn’t easy to change your whole viewpoint, but at least she was trying.

“At least try to go to bed early and get some rest,” she settled on. “If it comes to it, I’ll see what I can do to help cover for you.”

“Whoa, for real?” Ryuji’s eyes widened.

She flashed him an offended scowl. “Of course! Your health is important you know, and it’s something you should take care of.”

Akira smiled back, attempting to defuse the situation. “Thanks, Makoto. Hopefully it won’t come to that. Anyway, I’m heading home now.”

“I’ll walk you to the station!” Ryuji immediately volunteered, slinging an arm over Akira’s shoulders with a slight jerk that made his stomach lurch, and he tensed.

“Ryuji, please don’t do that.”

“Huh?”

“You’re gonna make him throw up if you jerk him around like that!” Morgana hissed. “Be careful!”

“Oh shit,” Ryuji immediately let him go. “My bad, man.”

Akira shook his head, breathing carefully. “It’s fine.” Not really. There was nothing in his stomach to throw up, but it didn’t seem to care. “Let’s just go. Hopefully sleeping for twelve hours will miracle cure me.”

“Pfft, yeah right.”

“Make sure you eat something,” Makoto reminded him firmly. “Even if it’s tough to keep down, you definitely won’t get better if you don’t.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Ryuji looked reluctant to leave him when they reached the station, but Akira waved him off with a reassurance. He’d be fine. He would.

And he was.

Until he actually reached Leblanc. It was empty when he walked in, just Sojiro working on a crossword behind the counter, and he glanced up with a raised brow when Akira stepped inside and the door rang shut.

He’d just opened his mouth to say something, likely a comment on Akira’s pitiful demeanor, when the smell of coffee and curry hit Akira full force and he gagged.

It was too much, and he dropped his bag and sprinted to the bathroom.

Not that it really mattered- he hadn’t eaten since lunch yesterday, so there was nothing to come up but stomach acid, which burned his throat and mouth as he doubled over on his knees coughing and gagging on nothing.

When it finally settled and he could breathe again, he leaned back against the wall and removed his glasses to wipe at his teary eyes. His breath was still hitching and unsteady, and he was freezing cold, and everything hurt. Not to mention the frustration of being sick and in this position in the first place, and general misery of everything-

He closed his eyes and grit his teeth and tried not to break into sobs. This was so stupid. And he’d have to somehow manage to get through tomorrow, maybe the next couple of days, and Sojiro would likely be annoyed at having to deal with his general presence of sickness-

Breathe. Breathebreathebreathe do not start crying-

“Akira?” Morgana settled a hesitant paw on his leg.

“I’m fine,” he answered immediately, ignoring how his voice was thick with tears and raspy from the gagging.

“Like hell you are,” Sojiro spoked from the door, making Akira stiffen. “Honestly, you look like death warmed over. Why on earth did you think it was a good idea to go to school today?”

Akira felt his shoulders curling with instinctive shame at the beration. “I couldn’t afford to miss.”

Sojiro snorted with a raised brow. “It’s not like it’d be hard to get a doctor’s note.”

Akira couldn’t bite back his bitter scoff fast enough to keep it from escaping, and Sojiro sent him a narrow look. He winced and looked away. “It wouldn’t do any good.”

“Are you serious? You really think the school wouldn’t accept a legitimate-”

“The school purposefully ignored the fact that the volleyball coach was beating and sexually assaulting his students for years because his victories made them look good. They don’t care .” Akira stared down at the ground, unwilling to look up and see Sojiro’s expression, and picked at a loose thread on his pants. Morgana seemed to recognize his distress and pressed close.

Joker felt pretty far away right now.

It was quiet for a moment before Sojiro let out a sigh. “Alright, I’ll give you that. I’ve seen enough self-serving administrations following their own bias to recognize it. But if it’s bad enough that you’re throwing up on an empty stomach, it’s bad enough you shouldn’t be at school.” Akira’s head whipped up- making his stomach churn as nausea spiked- but Sojiro continued before he could protest. “Think you can make it upstairs?”

Part of him wanted to argue, the rest of him was just… too tired. He just wanted to curl up under his blankets and sleep and hope everything stopped hurting when he woke up. So he just nodded mutely and pulled Morgana into his arms, wincing at the way his sleeves grated against his sensitive nerves at the motion even as Morgana’s body warmth soothed the chill of his limbs. Sojiro nodded to him and moved away towards the kitchen.

Akira debated for a moment asking him what he was planning, but he couldn’t muster the energy. He could barely force himself to pick up the bag that had been set by the stairs, or to drag himself up the stairs.

He all but collapsed onto the bed- the only reason he didn’t was because he still had Morgana in his arms. He dropped the bag onto the floor by the bed dropped his head into his hands as Morgana leapt onto the bed beside him. His head was pounding, a building pressure behind his eyes that made it hard to think as shivers wracked his body.

“You should probably change out of your school uniform,” Morgana prodded.

Yeah, he should. But that would mean getting up again. Not to mention getting undressed, then redressed. He closed his eyes with a soft groan.

I hate this, he thought miserably.

“Akira,” Morgana prodded him again, kneading a paw on his leg. He flinched as the nerves in his leg lit up in discomfort. “Come on, you’ll have to do it eventually anyway. You can’t sleep in that.”

“Ugh.” Akira nudged his paw off and had to force himself to push off the bed, swaying for a moment until he caught his balance.

Changing his clothes without falling over was a challenge in and of itself, and by the time he was done his whole body was trembling and he felt like he’d just crawled out from a Mementos run. He collapsed on the bed and tried to breathe around the nausea.

Morgana settled next to him, eyeing him with open concern. “Jeez you look awful.”

Akira didn’t respond, burying his face in his pillow. The coolness of it felt good, but the rest of him was still freezing and he tried to drag the energy together to pull himself beneath the blankets. Morgana once again took initiative and nudged at his arm until he acquiesced and fumbled with the blanket until he got it out from under himself and overtop of him.

He curled up into a ball with every intention of going to sleep and not waking up until his alarm the next morning, but that was foiled by Sojiro emerging at the top of the stairs with a mug and bowl of something steaming. Akira blinked, confused.

“Here,” the man said, setting the bowl on the shelf by the bed and holding out the mug.

Akira shakily levered himself up and took the mug with both hands, careful not to lose his grip. His hands were still noticeably trembling, but he at least didn’t spill anything. The mug was warm in his grasp, chasing away the chill, and the scent of ginger coated his mouth. “Ginger tea?”

“It’ll help with the nausea, keep you from throwing up everywhere.” He gestured to the bowl. “And I made some miso. It’s light enough that you should be able to keep it down, and it’ll help replace the salt from you sweating out the fever.”

“I…” Akira curled his arms close, uncertainty resting heavy in his chest. What was the catch? There had to be one. “Thank you…? Why…?”

Sojiro crossed his arms, brow rising incredulously. “What do you mean ‘why’? You don’t seriously expect to just ignore the fact that you’re sick, do you?”

He fidgeted with the cup, a sense of dread he couldn’t quite place seeping through the back of his mind. “You said you wouldn’t take care of me if I got sick,” he mumbled. “I’m just… confused.” He wasn’t sure why he was pointing this out, it was just asking for trouble.

Then again, maybe that was just the lessons ingrained by his parents talking. Accept what you’re given gratefully and don’t ask questions.

If there was a catch, he’d rather know about it now rather than later .

His grip tightened on the mug as Sojiro frowned at him, and he could see a concerned tilt to Morgana’s ears from the corner of his eye. “What, you remember that? I didn’t expect you to take it seriously.” A startled expression flickered across his face. “Wait, so you were taking everything I said seriously?”

What?

Akira glanced up, uncertainty bubbling into familiar nerves at the thought that he’d screwed up. He tried to ignore it- that wasn’t accurate to the situation but- “Was I not supposed to?”

“I kind of assumed it’d just pass right by you.” The man’s frown deepened. “Most kids your age brush that stuff off, and don’t take it seriously. Figured you assumed I was bluffing.”

He felt his shoulders curl instinctively, hand rising to tug unhappily at his bangs. “Do they? I… didn’t. My parents don’t make threats they don’t follow through on, so I just assumed…”

Sojiro blew out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “I see. I… dammit. I was trying to keep you out of trouble, but I guess I went overboard.” He shook his head. “Well, I’m not just gonna leave you to your misery. Drink the tea and eat your soup, see how you feel tomorrow. If need be, I’ll handle the school and a doctor.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Akira protested, tightening his grip on the mug to keep from spilling it. “It’s not bad enough for a doctor.”

Sojiro leveled him an unimpressed look. “Wait until you see how you feel tomorrow morning before you make that claim. If it gets better then sure. But if the fever goes up and you can’t get out of bed tomorrow morning, then you need a doctor.”

He couldn’t really argue with that.

“Alright,” he sighed. He didn’t like it, but he also needed to be back on his feet as soon as possible. They had time, but not that much time. They couldn’t afford to lose a week, not when they were only halfway through the Palace. “I’ll… let you know.”

“Good. Drink your tea and eat the soup then get some sleep.”

“Yes, Boss.”

Sojiro sent him a flat look at his tone, but turned and headed downstairs rather than calling him on it.

The poised feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop hadn’t entirely left, but it wasn’t as poignant as it had been, at least.

“Did Boss really say that?” Morgana asked, tail flicking restlessly.

“Yeah.” Akira carefully sipped the tea, though it had cooled off enough not to burn him. “He pretty much spent the first few days making constant threats that he’d kick me out if I caused trouble. His comment about not taking care of me if I got sick doing something I shouldn’t was included in that. I thought he was being serious, but I guess…” The idea that Sojiro had been bluffing probably shouldn’t be as strange as it was, but if it had been his parents, it would have been entirely serious. They’d gotten annoyed at him before when he got sick and they had to take time off work to deal with it. Once he’d become a teenager, they’d told him he was old enough to handle it himself.

The idea that someone was willingly going out of their way to help take care of him, especially after saying they wouldn’t-

-why the hell was he crying?!

He closed his eyes to fight back the tears, trying to breathe through the knot in his throat.

“Akira?!”

“I’m fine,” he forced out, wiping at his eyes. “Ugh. I hate being sick. This always happens.”

The not-cat crouched down, watching him worriedly. “You get upset more easily?”

“When you get sick your body goes into overdrive to fight it, so any sort of hormone regulation is completely thrown off. Which means your control over emotions disappears.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair- only to grimace and wipe his hand on his pants at the sweat. “And since being sick makes your body feel bad already, those emotions are mostly on the negative side.”

“So it’s not so much that you’re upset as it is that your body is overloaded,” Morgana reasoned, relaxing as he straightened.

“Pretty much,” Akira agreed easily, relieved that Boss couldn’t understand him, and hoping he didn’t ask the others for more details later. It wouldn’t take much to realize that Akira was at least partially bluffing.

Another shiver wracked his frame, and he pulled the blanket back up around him as he finished his tea and reached for the soup. He was a bit wary of trying to finish them both so quickly- his stomach was okay for the moment, but he wasn’t willing to push his luck. But at the very least the bowl was warm.

He blinked, and then had to quickly pry his eyes back open as exhaustion abruptly struck. The world was hazy again, the pressure building, and he sighed again before sipping at his soup. He just wanted to sleep, but he wasn’t going to let the soup go to waste. Especially not after Sojiro had gone out of his way to make it.

So he fought off the tiredness until he managed to stomach the rest of the soup, before finally lying down and pulling the blanket to his chin and closing his eyes.

He was out in seconds.

Morgana watched over him, concern hardly abated. Akira’s reaction while talking to Sojiro had been… unusual. He’d never seen the boy so hesitant. Though judging from what he’d said, and the way Sojiro had reacted, maybe it shouldn’t be surprising. But it was still concerning. And he’d said that his reaction had been because he was sick, and Morgana didn’t disbelieve him because it made sense, but… he wasn’t sure. Boss had seemed worried too, once he realized that Akira had been believing what were apparently bluffs, and Morgana didn’t know how to feel about that either.

Sometimes it felt like he really didn’t understand anything.

“Out like a light, huh?”

He glanced up to find Boss had returned, eying Akira with a frown.

“Well at least he’s sleeping.” He cast a glance to the empty dishes. “And he managed to drink everything, which is good. Now we’ll just have to see if he keeps it down.” He leaned over and pressed a hand to Akira’s forehead, pulling back with a deepening frown. “He’s definitely running way too hot… I know I said in the morning, but maybe… no, he’s already asleep.” The man sighed. “Well, he’ll be fine until then. And I’m just a call away, so it should be alright. … assuming he does call.” He groaned and ran a hand through his hair. “Dammit, thought I was getting a pain-in-the-ass troublemaker who’d breaking the rules constantly, but I guess not, huh? I wonder if I… Well, doesn’t matter now. I’ll just have to keep an eye on him.” He glanced to Morgana. “And I guess he has you looking after him too, huh?”

“Of course!” Morgana puffed up. “I’ll make sure he’s alright!”

Boss chuckled and reached out to scratch his ears. “Just because the kid likes to act like he understands you doesn’t mean I do. I left your food on the table over there, and I’ll leave you to keep an eye on him. Hopefully he’ll sleep through the night. But if not, make sure he calls me. You’re good at getting him to do the things he’s supposed to, and there’s a note downstairs for him if he does need it.”

“You got it, Boss!” Morgana purred and bumped his head into the man’s hand.

He chuckled and shook his head. “Alright, alright, I leave it to you.”

Morgana ate quickly after he left and hurried back to the bed, leaping up to keep watch over the sleeping boy. “Geez… you better rest up so you can get better soon. We need our leader, and Boss is worried too, y’know?” He reached out to touch Akira’s messy hair. “I’ll be here to keep an eye out until then, though. Sleep well, Akira.”

Notes:

Something less terrifying and more fluff/sad after last time.

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