Fushigi Yuugi Fan Fiction ❯ A Day for Mitsukake ❯ Towels ( Chapter 3 )

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“Taa-maa-hoo-mee~!” Miaka called down the sunny outdoor walkway before reaching his door.

“Over here, Miaka,” he called back. She came in and found him folding some towels.

‘Tamahome. You do laundry?” she asked.

“What? No. I mean yes. But these are for Mitsukake.”

“Oh really?” she leaned down closer to him. “Why?”

“I remember when I was very little, when my mom was alive, she’d take care of my fevers by rubbing my feet. She said that warming up your feet would suck the fever down there instead of your head.”

“How sweet,” Miaka felt a warm feeling in her chest as she pictured it. “Then you’re going to give Mitsukake a foot massage? Have fun.”

“I was kind of hoping you’d help me with that,” he set his eyes at half-mast. “I don’t want to rub a man’s feet, but it’s all I can think of. Please don’t abandon me.”

“Well,” she struggled, not all that fond of rubbing grown men’s feet either. “How bad could it be?”

Mitsukake’s throat was recovering from the spicy shock he had gotten earlier, but his fever was still making his pillow feel too hot to lean against. He turned to the other side, but the friction still felt warm against his cheek. In an effort to find a cold spot, he flipped the pillow over for some relief, which didn’t last very long. The trouble with sleeping in with a fever was actually having to sleep with the fever.

“Hey, Mitsukake?” Tamahome knocked as he opened the door slowly. “How’re you doing?”

“Fine,” he lied.

Miaka peaked out from behind him with a few towels. “How does a foot rub sound?”

A foot rub sounded great at the moment, but a little too embarrassing to accept from them. “No, thank you,” he smiled. “But thank you for offering.”

“Oh, come now, Mitsukake, don’t make us feel useless!” Miaka invited herself in front of his feet and rolled up her sleeves as if she were about to arm wrestle.

“Yeah,” Tamahome took a seat next to her at the end of the bed. “We don’t mind doing this at all,” he fudged and pulled the blanket up to Mitsukake’s ankles, to reveal some stentchy feet.

“You really don’t have to do this,” he reminded them. “I was just going to go to sleep now.”

“Then you can take the best nap you’ve ever had with your feet being rubbed. We‘re absolutely fine,” Miaka said in a concrete tone, although the disgusted look on her face said otherwise.

There was no way to convince them not to do it, so Mitsukake tried to avoid thinking of how stinky his feet must be, and closed his eyes. Within a few moments, they had started rubbing ointment onto his aching soles, and then started talking amongst each other. “Do you think he’s asleep now?” Miaka whispered to Tamahome as she started rubbing deeply.

“I hope so,” Tamahome whispered back. “That way we don’t have to stay here for very long.”

He heard everything they said perfectly, but decided it would be best to humor them and pretend to be asleep. After all, he told himself, it’s the thought that counts, and not the amount of willpower.

“That‘s really weird,” Miaka half giggled, half complained. “I feel like I’m rubbing a corn husk.” The husky-footed man felt a surge of blush hit his cheeks. “Are all men’s feet like this, Tamahome?”

“No, of course not. These are really rough. Maybe we should have gotten him new shoes instead,” he continued rubbing.

“What about your feet, Tamahome?”

“My feet?” he asked in surprise. He had never had a girl ask about that part of him before. “Well, they’re not perfect, but-- wait, why are you even asking this?”

“Oh, nothing,” she looked away. “It’s just that… I might be rubbing your feet someday. You know… like married couples do after a long day.”

“Miaka,” he stopped rubbing for a moment. Mitsukake felt the urge to kick him so he’d keep going, but refused to show that he was still awake, otherwise they’d all start feeling embarrassed. Tamahome continued, with a little smirk. “Well, if you care that much, I’ll start asking Nuriko if I can get pedicures with him.”

“It’s not a big deal, Tamahome!” she blushed and laughed. “Forget I asked!”

“No, not until I can ask about your feet,” he teased. “Any warts? Eew… like that one.”

“My feet?” she replied in her usual energetic tone. “They’re really soft! Well, a little dirty, but whose aren’t? Well, Hotohori’s, maybe…”

“I’m not surprised,” Tamahome said with a little chuckle. “You start off with a heart as soft as yours, and everything else will be soft, too.”

“Tamahome…”

Mitsukake had shared many moments like this with Shouka, but in private. He wasn’t very fond of listening to other couples fawn over each other in his presence, but it was even worse while they were at the foot of his bed playing with his toes. His fever started to get even higher as he blushed more.

“Wait, Tamahome, what do you mean, ‘everything else will be soft?’”

“Uuuhhh… not those.”

“Then… then you like them firm?”

“That’s not what I said, Miaka!”

The fever was up and rising, but he couldn’t think of any tactful way to chase the two lovebirds out of his room. Think, think, think, he told himself, but nothing good came to mind.

“Meeeow,” Tama-neko said, very pleased with having just licked the last of the broth off his fur. It was his little way of taking their attention away from his master’s feet.

“Well hi, Tama,” Miaka leaned away from the end of the bed to pick him up. “What have you been up to? You’re all wet.”

“Here, use one of the towels to dry him off,” Tamahome handed one to her. She did so, and the cat purred in thankfulness to be clean again (though most people wouldn’t consider being covered in one’s own saliva very clean). “Do you think we’re done here, Miaka?”

“Yeah, his feet should be relaxed by now,” she nodded. “We’ll just dry the ointment off and then go wash our hands.” Mitsukake heard this, and though he was thankful that they were leaving, silently pleaded with them not to use Tama’s towel. The feeling of little cat hairs against his skin sent a chill up his spine, but unfortunately, not up to his feverish head.

After rinsing their hands off (thankfully), Miaka returned and put her hand to the doctor’s forehead. “Oh no,” she said, full of concern.

“What’s the matter?” Tamahome asked. “Hasn’t his fever gone down?”

“Not at all. He seems hotter than he did this morning,” she replied. “I can’t imagine why.”

They finally left, and Mitsukake immediately sprang up to wipe off his cat-haired foot. Tama-neko smiled innocently.

Elsewhere, Nuriko was catching up with Miaka on his condition. “A higher fever, huh?” he put a finger to his lips as he commented, “Well, you can’t rely on feet for taking care of that.’

“No, I guess not,” she sighed.

“Don’t worry,” he sent her a sassy smile. “We’ll take care of it.”

“We?”

“Of course. His Majesty’s not just going to sit around and be idle while the rest of us help out,” he winked. “I’ll go let him know now how he’s doing.”