Chapter Text
Mikey shouldn’t have been there.
Takemichi could tell the second he arrived at the Toman meeting. Mikey was perched on the edge of the shrine steps like always, but something was off. His shoulders were slumped instead of loose, his eyes half-lidded and glassy. And, even from a distance, Takemichi could see the faint flush high on his cheeks.
“Mikey…” Takemichi muttered under his breath, immediately worried but knowing better than to try and intervene at the moment.
Mikey smiled anyway even though it was clearly weak and forced no matter how much he tried to make it look natural. “Yo Takemitchy.” He greeted, clearly trying to be as casual as possible despite everything.
And briefly Takemichi wondered if he'd noticed his worried demeanor and was trying to put him at ease. Rather than actually easing his worry however, it had the opposite effect.
It had set off alarms in his head. Mikey usually grinned wide, carefree, like the world couldn’t touch him. Instead, he looked miserable. But evidently it wasn't that obvious to everyone. Or perhaps everyone else had noticed but also didn't want to point it out. He didn't know for sure.
The meeting went on as usual. Mikey spoke clearly, confidently, issuing orders and listening to reports. But Takemichi noticed the little things. Like the way Mikey paused between sentences, how he swallowed hard like he was fighting nausea, how his hand occasionally clenched in the fabric of his coat. It was subtle because he was clearly doing his best to seem like his usual self.
By the time the meeting ended, Mikey looked worse.
“Alright,” Mikey said, hopping down from the steps. He staggered, just a little, and he'd tried to act like it didn't even happen right after, immediately standing straight again. But Takemichi saw it. And Draken noticed too.
He frowned in response. “Oi. You good?”
“Yeah,” Mikey said instantly. Too instantly. “Just tired.” He was clearly just trying to get Draken off his case, and fast. He looked like he was gonna lose it any moment.
Takemichi opened his mouth to argue, to finally speak up. But Mikey turned away, already walking off. Not giving anyone time to say anything more. He'd tried to walk away casually like he was just simply taking his leave to head home. But he wasn't heading towards his bike. So obviously that wasn't actually the case.
It was plain to see that Mikey wasn't doing well. And, once again, it seemed like nobody else had noticed since they were just casually leaving. Well, except Draken who had paused for a brief second, probably debating on if he should go after him. But, in the end, he shrugged it off, sighing before also taking his leave after all.
Takemichi was no better, hesitating despite himself, wrestling with his indecisive mind on what he should do. One thing was for sure, he wanted to be there for the other
“Mikey…” He murmured to himself.
And, after a moment longer,Takemichi ran in the direction where Mikey had disappeared, fueled by his worry for his friend. He needed to make sure the other was ok. This was definitely no time to just stand around. Nor was he about to abandon him if he needed help, which he probably did no matter what he might say.
He found Mikey crouched in an alleyway, hands braced against the wall, shoulders shaking. His breath came out ragged and uneven, and before Takemichi could even say his name again to catch his attention, Mikey retched violently, a torrent of the vile liquid spilling past his lips and splattering to the ground before him.
It had looked like the action had physically pained him. He'd probably been holding back the urge to vomit with everything he'd had till he just couldn't anymore. And now his body was forcing it out whether he liked it or not.
“Oh-Mikey-!” Takemichi didn’t hesitate and dropped beside him instantly, panic flaring in his chest. Sure it was possible that he might get pushed away or told to leave, but he wanted to help anyway. He was stubborn like that. The very same stubbornness and determination that he displayed when getting into fights.
Mikey didn’t answer him however. Nor did he push him away. He just heaved again, more partially digested food and such joining the previous mess. He looked weak and miserable, his whole body trembling. Takemichi grabbed onto his hair instinctively, holding it back so none of the vomit would get on it, his free hand rubbing slow, soothing circles between his shoulder blades as Mikey vomited more and more till he had nothing left to give but bile and stomach acid.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Takemichi murmured, voice shaking. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.” He said these things, but in the moment he wasn't actually so sure he would be okay. He pushed down those unhelpful thoughts despite the fact that they were nagging at the back of his mind incessantly.
Mikey finally slumped back against the wall when it was over, breathing hard, face pale beneath the fever flush. His eyes looked unfocused and glassy just like earlier when he glanced up.
“…Don’t tell Ken-Chin,” he mumbled, clearly worried more about what his friend would think if he found out rather than himself and his own well being.
Takemichi’s heart broke a little at that.
“You idiot,” Takemichi chided him a little, his hand making to feel the other's forehead.. “You’re burning up.”
He hated seeing Mikey still trying to be so strong and keep up appearances when he was clearly unwell. In fact, he even seemed barely conscious. His eyes struggling to stay open.
Mikey huffed out a weak laugh that turned into a cough. “Couldn’t skip the meeting.”
Takemichi couldn't help thinking that wasn't entirely true. After all, sure he was the boss, but that didn't mean he couldn't have left it to someone else for once. Draken perhaps.
“I know,” Takemichi said instead of voicing his opinion, helping him sit in a more comfortable position. “But you don’t have to be strong all the time.”
Mikey didn’t argue. That alone said everything. Because he knew that in any other situation, he would have refuted that immediately.
Takemichi practically dragged Mikey home.
Well, actually, he had taken Mikey's Babu. He knew the other wouldn't want to abandon it at the shrine. Plus, even though he was far from a good driver, it was still the faster way to get him home. Mikey leaned heavily against his back, head buried in the back of Takemichi's Toman uniform. At one point, Mikey’s fingers curled into Takemichi’s sleeve like he was afraid of falling.
It wasn't the safest situation. He probably would fall if they hit a large bump or anything. So Takemichi tried to be as careful as possible, going as slow as he could without violating the traffic laws. The last thing they needed was to be pulled over by a cop.
“Sorry,” Mikey muttered. “Didn’t mean to-”
“Stop apologizing,” Takemichi said firmly over the sound of the engine, cutting him off mid sentence. “You’re sick.”
This seemed to make the other quiet again and he remained that way the rest of the ride.
Once inside the shed that served as Mikey's room, Takemichi took off his shoes and Mikey’s flip flops. Then he guided Mikey straight to the bed. The second he lay down, he then curled in on himself, shivering despite the warmth of the room.
They had somehow managed not to disturb Emma or Mikey's grandpa which was probably for the best. Emma especially would have surely panicked immediately if she saw the state he was in. And he was sure Mikey didn't want that.
Takemichi pressed a hand to his forehead in an effort to double check his temperature like he had before, and he hissed. “You’re really hot.” He knew this wasn't good. He shuddered to think just how high his temperature really was. It seemed like it had risen in the time it had taken to get the other home.
“Mm,” Mikey hummed weakly, eyes fluttering shut. He was almost tempted to make a joke in response to that but had thought better of it.
“Kinda feels like my head’s gonna float away.” he remarked instead.
Takemichi forced a small smile and went into full caretaker mode. He’d helped Mikey change into pajamas, taken down his hairdo, grabbed water, a cool cloth, medicine, everything he could think of. When he came back, Mikey was still curled up, breathing shallow, lips slightly parted.
Takemichi knelt beside him and gently wiped his forehead with the cool, damp cloth. Mikey sighed at the touch, leaning into it without even opening his eyes. It felt nice.
“…Feels good.” Mikey murmured.
Takemichi was glad to hear that. He hoped it might mean his fever would be lowered a bit. He left it resting on the other's forehead soon after with that in mind. Much like he did whenever he got sick with a fever. He often took care of himself in moments like that since his parents were hardly ever home. So he had lots of experience.
Mikey cracked one eye open, gaze soft and unfocused. He was clearly struggling to remain conscious.
“Stay.”
This was really sudden but the meaning was clear. He was scared of being alone. And he was too sick to realize just how vulnerable he was being. What he was doing.
Takemichi froze in response to it, having been taken off guard.
“…Okay,” he said quietly after a moment, knowing Mikey was expecting an answer.
He helped Mikey sit up just long enough to sip some water, holding the cup steady when Mikey’s hands shook. And moments later, when Mikey gagged again, Takemichi was already there, pulling him forward, handing him the bin that was by the bedside, and murmuring reassurances until it passed.
Unfortunately it seemed like he wasn't able to keep anything down for very long. His stomach was probably still too upset which made sense. It wasn't like it had been very long since he'd last thrown up.
After the ordeal, Mikey sagged against him completely.
Takemichi hesitated only a second before carefully easing them both down, Mikey’s head resting against his chest. Mikey didn’t protest. If anything, he relaxed, fingers clutching weakly at Takemichi’s shirt.
“You didn’t have to do any of this you know…” Mikey whispered, voice barely audible. His words somewhat contradicting his desire to have his Mitchy stay. Disguising the fact that he was glad.
Takemichi wrapped an arm around him, holding him close, protective and gentle. “Yeah,” he said softly, regardless of what the other had said. “I did.”
And he'd never sounded more sure of anything in his life.
Mikey’s breathing slowly evened out, the tension leaving his body as sleep finally pulled him under, clearly demanding the rest it needs.
Takemichi stayed awake long after, listening to Mikey breathe, stroking his hair whenever he shivered. A small reassurance that he would be okay. That he was still alive.
For once, Mikey wasn’t carrying everything alone.
And one thing was for sure, Takemichi wasn’t going anywhere.