Fushigi Yuugi Fan Fiction ❯ A Day for Mitsukake ❯ Soup ( Chapter 2 )

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“So what should we do first?” Nuriko queried. He wasn’t all that fond of being a nurse, but helping another warrior where it was due wasn’t a big problem for him.

“Well, he’s still gotta be hungry no da,” Chichiri replied, nursing the pangs in his own empty, bun-deprived stomach.

“You’re right. Get a tray and we’ll take some food to him,” said Hotohori to no one in particular. “What foods are good for chasing away a cold?”

“Something with herbs?” Chiriko offered. He wasn’t an expect, but he still knew a few that might help.

“Herbs… that should work,” Tasuki agreed. “Hotohori, where’s your spice cabinet?”

“When’s the last time you think I’ve been in a kitchen?”

Considering herself the expert on food, Miaka was already piling up a tray. “There we go. Some hot stuff, some cold stuff, and everything in between. I’ll go take this to him now--”

“No, no, no da! I’ll do that,” Chichiri dove for the tray. He knew Miaka meant well, but she could never realize when she was taking someone else’s food. “It’s probably pretty heavy, so I’ll take it.”

“If that’s so, then shouldn’t Nuriko take it?”

“Shut up and go grab some herbs to throw in there, Tasuki.”

“Well,” Miaka handed it over to him, “if you want. I’ll do something else for him later.”

Chichiri sighed contently. Mitsukake obviously wouldn’t eat all the Miaka-sized portions on the tray, so he might get a little something himself.

Mitsukake, meanwhile, swallowed hard. His throat felt like a dry rock in his neck, and his nose was too stuffy for him to sleep without his mouth wide open. Sleep… what a comforting thought. He was about to drift back to it when the door swung back open.

“Room service na no da!”

He wanted to throw another pillow at the new visitor, but that would be impolite of him, so he resisted. “Good morning, Chichiri. How can I… snnff… help you?”

“No, how can I help you?” the monk smiled, and Mitsukake noticed the tray he was carrying. “Does soup sound good to you no da?”

“Mmm, actually, it does,” he answered. Though reluctant to sit up, he did so in hopes that some hot broth would soothe his throat. Chichiri set the tray down on his lap and handed him a spoon. “Um, Chichiri?”

“Da?”

“Where’s the soup?”

“Um… under the fruit?” Chichiri poked at a few pieces. The food was stacked almost up to Mitsukake’s chin, and they were both afraid to take items off, for fear that it would all come crashing down. “Miaka loaded it up, no da.”

“I see,” he sniffled, and caught the fainted whiff of the broth. “You start on that side, and I’ll start on this side.” The both carefully removed food items in search of a hot bowl, which was most likely at the bottom. The oranges rolling across the floor caught a certain cat’s attention.

Tama-neko felt the need to chase one or two of them across the floor, until another one dropped on his head. He meowed in annoyance, then looked up on the bed to see where it all this heavy balls were coming from. Hoping up lightly enough for neither of the warriors to notice him, he spotted an even bigger, funner looking ball- a cantaloupe.

Slowly and surely, he aimed at his target. Without giving it any warning, he pounced , and found that the large ball moved easily. The other food items gave way and toppled off of either side of the tray, and the cat-covered cantaloupe plunged into the soup Mitsukake had been seeking, splashing it in every direction. Tama-neko’s white fur was now a wet shade of brown, and he hissed and ran off the bed. The cantaloupe had won.

Mitsukake and Chichiri didn’t escape the splash, either. “Uh… do you still want the soup, no da?”

“No, I think I’ll pass.”

“Well, at least have some juice no da,” Chichiri handed him the cup that was at the corner of the tray, and unharmed by Tama-neko’s antics.

“Thank you,” Mitsukake closed his eyes, and took a few big gulps. When he opened his eyes back up, though, they were filled with tears, and his previously swollen throat was now burning even more as he started coughing.

“Mitsukake!” the monk yelled and patted his back. He took a peak inside the cup and noticed a few leaves floating in it. “Nuriko and Tasuki put the herbs in the juice??”

He choked out between coughs, “what’s in that?!”

“They must have thought it was tea…” Chichiri smelled it. “Did they use lemongrass in this?”

“Lemongrass!?!” he squeaked, while holding his throat.

“I’m sorry, no da,” he replied. “I seem to remember you mentioning that you don’t like spicy food a while back… and least it‘s clearing out your nose, no da.”

The sick doctor continued to cough and hack as the sensation filled his neck, mouth, and nose. Chichiri fumbled around for some water, which he took graciously, but it only made the burning worse. Without anything else he could do to help, the monk wiped the soup off things as much as he could and picked up the fruit that had rolled in every which direction. “Is there anything else you want right now, no da?”

“N-No,” he whimpered. “I’ll just get some rest now.”

“Sorry, no da,” he returned the whimper and backed out of the door with the messy tray in toe. He had lost his appetite in embarrassment, and proceeded to leave the tray in the kitchen.

“Wow,” Miaka sweat beaded as she looked at it. “Did you two have a party in there or what?”

“Or what, na no da.”

“Okay then,” she forced a smile, and ran off to find Tamahome to brainstorm about what they could do to care for their sick friend.