Fushigi Yuugi Fan Fiction ❯ A Day for Mitsukake ❯ Steam ( Chapter 4 )

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“His fever is worse?” Hotohori rose from his seat. “And they tried rubbing his feet to calm it down?”

“Erm, yes,” Nuriko answered. “Now would be a good time to go tend to him.”

“I do not ‘tend’, Nuriko. I ‘assist’,” he corrected him.

Mitsukake rubbed his temples and sniffled. Fortunately no one had been bothering him for a couple hours, but sleep seemed out of his reach now. He eyed Tama-neko, who was curled up in a little sleeping ball at the foot of his bed. Lucky cat, he thought.

“Mitsukake? We’re coming in,” the emperor said from the door before he opened it. Immediately, the healer sat straight up in his company. “Come now, relax. While in the presence of your emperor, you’re still in the presence of a friend.”

“Very well, then,” he plopped back down. He noticed Nuriko enter behind him, carrying a large basin of hot water. “More soup?”

“No, no,” Hotohori smiled and pulled out a small cloth to dip into the water. “We’re here to bring your fever down.”

“Your Highness!” he addressed him. “You don’t--”

“Lay back down,” he ordered. “You’re sick.” He did as he was told, and the royal fingers pressed the damp cloth to his forehead. While it did feel relaxing, he couldn’t accept that his emperor was being his nurse.

“Please don’t, Your Highness,” he protested again. “It’s not necessary for you to--”

“Are you telling me I’m not able to help?” Hotohori replied in a firm tone. “Just because I’ve lived in a palace all my life doesn’t mean I’ve never gotten a cold myself. I’m quite capable of pulling my weight and taking care of someone else.”

“Of course,” Nuriko added. “It would be disrespectful of you to refuse His Majesty’s help.”

“If that’s what you wish,” Mitsukake sighed, and tried to relax. Hotohori was very pleased with the answer, and proceeded to dip the cloth back into the basin, but stopped to take a look at it.

“Wh-what, may I ask, is on your forehead?” he examined the cloth.

“Is that… soup broth?” Nuriko took a look at it.

“No wonder I was still feeling so sticky.”

Hotohori wasn’t sure what to reply to that, so he wrang the cloth out and returned a nice one to his forehead. While his touch did feel very calming, Mitsukake couldn’t help but think that this was something people very fond of each of each other would do. A parent and child, a sister and brother, or lovers… perhaps it was an illusion brought on by his high fever, but he pictured Shouka standing behind Hotohori, shaking her fist with jealousy. How silly, he thought, to be envious of the emperor.

His stomach churned as he was reminded that Shouka’s fever was far worse than his own. He should have been the one patting a cloth against her head.

“Hey, Mitsukake?” Nuriko said. “I don’t think you’re going to relax very much with your face furrowed up like that.”

“Are you implying that I’m not doing this right, Nuriko?”

“Of course not, Your Highness!” he struggled in defense. “But your royal hands are out of practice. And, if you don’t mind, it does require a woman’s touch.”

“A woman’s touch?” Hotohori and Mitsukake both looked blankly at him. He certainly was daring to critique the emperor, but even more daring to still refer to himself as a woman.

“So you’re saying you can do better at bringing his fever down?”

“I’m only saying that I’m good at the bed side,” he tilted his head to one side. “Among other things, of course.”

“Very well,” the emperor raised an eyebrow and handed the cloth to Nuriko. “You show me how good you are at this.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” Nuriko smiled widely and made sure to put a dainty pinky up in the air as he took the cloth. This was an excellent opportunity for him to show Hotohori what a wonderful wife he’d make. After dabbing it back in the steamy water, he returned it to Mistukake’s broad forehead, as lightly as he could. “See? Nice and gentle, nice and gentle.”

“AAOOOWEHH!!” Mitsukake yelled out in pain as his hands rushed to hold his head. “Not that hard!!”

“Not that hard?” Nuriko pursed his lips. “I’m barely touching you.”

Mitsukake sat up to cradle his head, and Hotohori peaked behind him. “Nuriko, look at the dent in his pillow you made!”

“I-I didn’t put that there!” he protested. “It’s his headprint, so he put it there.”

“Not just in his pillow… in the whole mattress!

“Oowww!”

“Mitsukake, are you alright?” Hotohori turned his attention back to the sick (and now injured) man. He received no answer, just continuous yelling. Tama-neko, of course, was awake by now, and started to lick his Master’s chin in concern.

“Jeez, I… I didn’t mean to!” Nuriko partially accepted his responsibility for the situation. “But it’s okay, because Mitsukake can just heal himself, right?”

“How tired out do you want him to get?” Hotohori continued raising his voice over the doctor’s moans. “We weren’t going to make him use his power at all today, remember?”

“Well then, quick, more hot water,” the cross dresser quickly dashed to soak the cloth again, but the combined force of his speed and his brute strength set the basin toppling over onto the bed, all over Mitsukake’s lap and the now very grumpy cat sitting in it.

The cat hissed in surprise, and lunged to attack the other two warriors for revenge. Whilst Nuriko run every which way in the room with the angry animal on his arm, screaming about his own pain, Hotohori turned back to his patient. “I’m… very sorry about all of this, Mitsukake. Deeply sorry.”

“Don’t trouble yourself,” he forced a weak smile, which twitched in little spurts of pain. “I feel very… refreshed, now. Just… wet.”

“Get it off of me! Egyyaaahh!!” Nuriko’s scream filled the rest of the room.

“And Tama was due for a good bath, anyway.”

“If you insist,” Hotohori sweated a little. “I’ll sent for a change of sheets and clothes for you right away.”

“I would appreciate that, thank you,” he sighed. “And a towel. A clean one.”

The emperor raised an eyebrow curiously. “Of course it’d be clean… why would you expect… never mind. Take the basin and let’s go now, Nuriko.” He walked out with his nose high in the hair, and the rest of him following in a dignified manner.

Nuriko, thoroughly scratched up, followed with the loyalty of a dog and carried the empty basin out. “Yeees, Your Highness,” he wobbled as he carried it out, muttering something about how he ‘will not ask Mitsukake for healing power today, will not ask Mitsukake for healing power today’. The soaked Tama-Neko continued to hiss as he left.

Mitsukake wasn’t sure whether to chuckle or sigh. “Nuriko’s sure in for it when Hotohori notices that Tama scratched his face, too.” It didn’t take long for him to hear angry yelling from down the hall, followed by pleading whimpers for mercy.