Work Text:
ずっとこのまま変わらずに いられたらそれでいい
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Nakamori Aoko hurried past the shopfronts, lamenting her bad luck with the sudden summer storm.
After school, she and Keiko had been busy prepping posters for the Cultural Festival, losing track of time until it was already half past five. Without an umbrella, she stepped outside only to be met by the deluged streets of Tokyo.
With a heavy backpack weighing her down, and a precious poster clutched against her chest, Aoko desperately hoped the rain wouldn’t ruin their hard work.
What usually took just ten minutes to walk home now felt like an endless journey, each step stretching out under the relentless downpour. Finally, breathless and soaked to the bone, she stood at her doorstep, where the world outside had turned into a shimmering ocean.
She kicked off her soaked shoes in the entryway, droplets cascading from her hair and pooling at her feet. Aoko looked down, sighed, then turned the keys.
This unexpected rainstorm had plunged her spirits into the depths after a long day of school. She didn’t wait to rush to the bath, peeling herself out of those wet clothes, and turned on the shower, hoping the warm water would wash away her fatigue.
Yet, the persistent gnawing in her stomach just made it impossible to focus on anything. After a hasty attempt to dry her hair, she shuffled to the kitchen to prepare dinner, only to find the fridge nearly empty—just a box of strawberries, a few of which had already gone bad. On the dining table lay a note from her father: “Work dinner, won’t be home.”
With a heavy sigh, Aoko collapsed onto the sofa, burying her face in a fluffy pillow and letting out a deep breath.
“Guess it’s takeaway tonight,” she thought, watching the tiny raindrops race down the windowpane. Her father would surely return home drunk from his gathering, the laundry on the balcony was still out, drenched and in need of another wash…
Today had truly been a series of unfortunate events.
She thought she had everything under control, only to find her body rebelling in the middle of the night. Perhaps it was her fault for not drying her hair properly; her laziness had come back to haunt her. Sleepy and dazed, she stared at the 2:27am on her bedside digital clock, blinked once, twice, her mind still a fog.
A throbbing headache pulsed through her skull, as if struck by a massive hammer, Aoko felt the world around blurred and twisted under this sudden fever. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to escape the discomfort, but her consciousness felt ensnared in mist. Her forehead burned with heat, yet her limbs were icy. Lacking the strength to rise and boil water, she sank back into the pillows, striving to keep her nose clear.
She called out “Dad” a few times, but the silence only deepened her worry. It seemed her father was once again planning to pull an all-nighter with his colleagues at the police department.
So, who else could she trust or call?
In her haze, she didn’t think much; instinctively, Aoko unlocked her phone and dialled a number she knew by heart.
“Kaito?” After two rings, the call finally connected, jolting Kuroba Kaito from his sleepy state.
“…Hey? Aoko?”
He sounded startled. “What’s wrong?”
“I’ve got a fever,” Aoko managed to sit up, her voice thick with bitterness. “I feel awful.”
“I’ll be right over. Don’t try to do anything by yourself, ok?”
Kaito quickly hung up, slipping into his shoes and rushing out the door. Halfway there, he suddenly remembered something and dashed back to grab a few wires before continuing on his way. By the time he reached her house, the rain had stopped, and the air was filled with a fresh, brisk scent. Moonlight spilled through the clouds, casting a silver glow over everything, as if nature itself was holding its breath.
Luckily, they lived just a stone's throw apart—the perks of being childhood friends, he thought. It didn’t take long before Kaito stood at Aoko’s door, his movements swift and practiced as he picked the lock in mere seconds. Not bothering to change out of his shoes, he raced to her bedroom.
If she told him off in the morning for making the floor dirty, well, he’d deal with it later; right now, she needed him.
Kaito fumbled to turn on the bedroom light, but the sudden brightness made them both squint. He instantly switched it off, moved to her bedside, and flicked on the lamp instead.
Under the gentle glow, Aoko’s cheeks blushed an unnatural shade of pink. It made him worried. He carefully pressed the back of his hand to her forehead, alarmed by the heat radiating from her skin.
“Oh no, this must be a 39-degree fever,” he thought, rushing to grab a towel, soaking it in cold water, and gently placing it on her brow. He had sensed something was off when she hadn’t walked home with him after school; the changing seasons hadn’t helped, and getting caught in the rain must have led to her cold.
Thinking that fever medicine might help her recover faster, he rummaged through the small cabinet in the living room. Whether he was looking in the wrong place or just panicking, he couldn’t find any Tylenol.
And as he calmed himself, he noticed his hands were trembling slightly.
In truth, Aoko’s family had cared for him more than his own growing up. His parents weren’t present most of the time. Though Aoko was three months younger, she liked to call herself “Aoko-sama” in front of him, and their mutual friends would always joke about how he was the more immature one, the “kid”.
Yet, at this moment, Kaito was grateful they lived so close. Otherwise, her father might not return until the early hours of the morning.
He boiled some water and poured it into a mug before returning to her room. Just as he reached her bedside, Aoko suddenly grasped his wrist.
“Ouch, how can you be so strong with a fever…”
Kaito chuckled lightly, a mix of concern and amusement in his gaze. “I’m going to get you some medicine. You’ll feel better once you take it. And don’t think I’ve forgotten that you woke me up at this hour; you owe me!”
Aoko mumbled something he couldn’t quite catch, so he leaned closer.
There wasn’t much to decipher, really. One word. It was simple, yet in that moment, it pounded louder than his own heart beats.
She said, “Stay.”
The bright light from earlier had hurt Aoko’s eyes, and her head felt heavy. Knowing Kaito was there brought her a sense of comfort, and instinctively, she didn’t want him to leave or face the long night alone. She held his hand tightly, feeling his warmth, his familiar scent mixed with the night’s, gently rubbing her fingers over his knuckles as she clutched him even tighter.
Her lips mechanically repeated the same simple plea, though Kaito doubted whether Aoko herself was fully aware of what she was saying: “Kaito…please stay.”
Kaito stood by her bedside, studying her face as the soft shadows from the lamp highlighted her features—those he had come to know so well over the years.
Normally, Aoko wouldn’t permit him to stare at her like this; within moments, she’d shoot him that “I see right through you” look and call him a “pervert.”
But now, her eyes were half-closed. Though she looked a bit unwell from the fever, Aoko was still Aoko, her brows knitting together in a faint frown.
With a soft sigh, he pulled a chair closer from her desk and sat. As he gently wiped the sweat from her forehead with the cool towel, he took her wrist in his other hand.
“Alright, no medicine then. I’ll stay with you; I’m not going anywhere.”
Hearing his reassuring words, Aoko’s grip loosened a little. She turned her head, her eyelids growing heavier until she finally drifted off into a deep sleep.
Once he was sure Aoko was sound asleep, Kaito gently let go of Aoko’s hand. He promised himself he was only checking to see if her fever had gone down, slowly turning her face toward him. In her slumber, Aoko's brows had relaxed, and she didn’t seem to be suffering as much anymore.
He glanced out the window, coming to terms with the moon that tonight she would be a silent and friendly witness.
Then, almost without thinking, Kaito leaned in, moving the damp towel aside, brushing a few strands of hair from Aoko’s forehead, and pressed his lips against her skin.
Really, he was just checking to see if her fever had gone down.
…But it seemed the heat of her fever was too much. Now he was flushing, too.
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If we could stay unchanging like this forever, it would be okay.