Drastic Measures (Fruits Basket, M)

[Spoo]

I had posted this over on tumblr, but I figured a cross-post onto the forum was a good idea as well (in case there are people on here who don't have a tumblr). @Winged and I have been eagerly watching the second season of the Fruits Basket remake; we decided to combine forces and produce some co-writing. I wrote for Shigure, and Winged wrote for Ayame. There are no major spoilers for the series, but it would probably help if you have some knowledge on the characters to a ) understand their personalities and behavior towards one another, and b ) get their references. 

No real warnings, but there will be contagion and someone intentionally trying to get sick. I know that isn't everyone's cup of tea (especially with what's going on in the world right now), so please go back if you'd rather not make yourself uncomfortable. That aside, we hope you enjoy! 

 

Drastic Measures

by Spoo & Winged

 

 

Head colds had never been particularly kind to Sōma Shigure. They weren’t unbearable, per se, but they often brought a great deal of annoyance and discomfort to him. Be it his Zodiac spirit’s canine characteristics (or just his own bad luck), the worst of the virus always targeted his nose. This meant he was no stranger to congestion, the inability to stop leaking, and the teasing, cloying tickle that constantly teetered him on the edge of a sneeze.

Mercifully, he wasn’t at the pinnacle of misery just yet (where the risk of transforming was almost guaranteed), but the novelist was still fairly under the weather. He’d slept in until noon, far beyond when the kids left for school, yet Tohru—sweet, thoughtful Tohru—had been kind enough to leave a wrapped plate of breakfast in the kitchen for him. He made a mental note to whine at the teenagers upon their return later that day, but for now he had no one but himself to complain to. 

Shigure supposed he could have called up Mit-chan if he really wanted to, to say that his newest manuscript would be woefully delayed due to the positively dreadful cold he’d come down with. He fiendishly envisioned her wailing shrieks in his head, considering he was already late in delivering what she needed from him, and snickered softly.  

Before he could contemplate tormenting his editor further, his attention was abruptly redirected to the front door. Though his clogged ears impaired his excellent hearing, he was successfully able to make out the distinct sound of knocking. There was only one person who knocked in such a confident, regal manner (and really, the knocker in question would have surely let himself in had Shigure left the door unlocked), but why his cousin was dropping in on Shigure in the middle of the day seemed odd. 

Regardless, he drew himself up from the chabudai in the living room to answer the knock. The pressure in his tender sinuses shifted as he stood in full to walk to the entrance hall, urging Shigure to blink his watering eyes a few times. Prior to opening the door, he muffled a cough into the upraised sleeve of his yukata. Only then did he officially greet his unexpected visitor. 

“What a surprise,” he said, and then cleared his throat. The combined forces of being sick and recently waking up meant that Shigure’s voice wasn’t its usual playful lilt, but rather a deep drone that was thick around the edges.

“Darling!” 

With a flourish and a pirouette, Sōma Ayame swept in through the front door, his signature red coat swirling behind him like an eddy in a stream. He was bearing a container of something warm and delicious-smelling, which he all but dropped on a nearby table in his haste to return to Shigure’s side. He put his hands on Shigure’s shoulders and positioned him at arm’s length. 

“Let me take a look at you,” Ayame hummed, clucking his tongue thoughtfully. “You don’t look too ill, which I suppose is a small mercy. I was half-afraid I’d arrive to find you on death’s door.”

“And what a tragedy that would have been. Fortunately for the both of us, it’s just a cold,” Shigure reassured through another cough into his sleeve.

He had confessed to Ayame during a phone call the other night that he’d felt unwell, but Shigure didn’t think Ayame would insist on assessing Shigure’s condition in person. Not with how easily Ayame got sick, anyway. 

“Have you come to take care of me?” Shigure continued, glancing at what he assumed was soup Ayame had brought. “Truth be told, you’re risking a cold yourself by being around me.”

“Why, of course, my dearest! I know how melancholy you get when you’re ill.” Ayame brushed his thumb across Shigure’s cheekbone, first casually and then with a longer duration, checking for fever. “And while I do adore my younger brother, I knew he and the rest of your mismatched brood would surely be subpar company. So!” He gestured to the container. “I had Mine whip you up some soup. I believe she said it was chicken noodle? I haven’t tried it yet, but her cooking is generally to die for.” 

The thumb-brushing had been innocent enough, but coupled with Shigure’s heightened level of sensitivity, it could only produce one surefire result. Regardless, he tried to show gratitude for Mine and her thoughtfulness.

“You’ll hhhave to-to thank her for mhh...“ The urge to expel the pesky tickle became far too great to fend off. Luckily, Shigure was able to swiftly turn away and direct the outburst into the bend of his elbow. “IHSCHHhhih!—IH’DTSCHhhh!”

Quick as the sneezes had been, they still left Shigure in need of the tissue he’d stowed in his pocket. Reaching for it now, he pressed the crumpled ball below his nose and cleared his throat to try and speak again.

“‘Thank her for me’ is what I was trying to say,” he finished, looking back at Aya through misty gray eyes. “Before I interrupted myself, that is. Excuse me.”

“Bless you!” Ayame exclaimed, reaching out to brush some fringe from Shigure’s face. “You poor thing. You should be in bed, not galivanting about. I’m sure you must feel absolutely terrible.”

In all honesty, Shigure didn’t look as bad as Ayame had been expecting. He’d sounded miserable on the phone when they’d spoken the other day, all hoarse-voiced and sniffly, but he must have caught up on some sleep or taken some medication in the meantime.

“I actually don’t feel too terrible,” Shigure said, blinking owlishly at Ayame.

He’d felt worse, surely, but it appeared Ayame was determined to stick around and take care of him. Perhaps there was more at play here than Shigure had originally picked up on? Hmm...

“However, if you insist on staying despite my warning,” the writer continued, pocketing the tissue he no longer required, “then make yourself at home, honey.” In the meantime, Shigure collected the soup Ayame had brought him and headed back over to the main living area to eat. 

Ayame trailed after, peeking around the house as he did so. He knew Yuki and the others wouldn’t be home, but he was still curious to catch a glimpse into his younger brother’s daily life if he could. 

“Oh you know me, Gure. I’ll be fine. I have an iron constitution.” It was a blatant lie, of course, but if Ayame was good at anything, it was bravado.

He let Shigure fix the soup while he drifted around the table, hand trailing absently on the wall behind him. Ah, there. He snagged a spare piece of paper and penned out a quick, exuberant message to Yuki. He could at least let him know he was thinking of him.

“I can’t taste much of this, but what little I can is amazing,” Shigure stated, following a few spoonfuls of the soup. It was rare that he and Mine crossed paths, but he made a mental note to thank the woman in person the next time he visited Ayame at work. 

The steam wafting from the warm liquid wasn’t helping his running nose, but Shigure was hungry and determined to satisfy his stomach before he paid attention to anything else. He eyed Ayame briefly and couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“If you stay long enough, you’ll see him,” he pointed out. The thought of Yuki coming home and seeing Ayame, completely unannounced, played all of the right strings in Shigure’s impish heart. 

Ayame brightened like a flower given water. “Really? I hate to wear out my welcome, but if I happened to still be here later...well, we shall see.” He settled beside Shigure, arranging the trailing pieces of his clothing around him to minimize damage. “It all depends on how you’re feeling, of course.”

“Always the doting lover,” Shigure teased, batting his eyelashes at Ayame coquettishly. Even when the kids weren’t around it was fun to play their little game, which wasn’t so much a ‘game’, really, as it was just the nature of their close friendship. “Honestly, this cold has been fairly mild. It’s still enough to keep me home, but that shouldn’t be a problem considering I rarely venture anywhere nowadays.”

Akito was still seething over Shigure’s last visit, which meant that he was forbidden from going to the main estate until the Sōma head deemed it acceptable. How utterly tragic it would be to finally obtain permission again, only to tell Akito that he wasn’t well enough to drop in. Shigure smirked at the conniving thought as he spooned more soup into his mouth.

“I hope your editor is at least leaving you alone and letting you rest,” Ayame pouted. “It’s mild for now, but you know how you tend to exhaust yourself when you have a deadline at hand.”

Was Ayame being overdramatic? Absolutely. Shigure was one of the hardiest of his immediate circle, and even the worst head cold Ayame had seen him with had never felled him for more than a week. But Ayame, as he often did, had an ulterior motive for the visit (beyond checking on his dear Gure, which he wanted to do anyway), so he pressed on and snuggled closer.

“Speaking of my darling brother, do make sure you don’t pass this on to him. He’s still so delicate,” Ayame said, slotting his chin onto Shigure’s shoulder.

Shigure knew from previous experiences how poorly Yuki endured colds, and also how they had an unfortunate tendency to settle like wet cement in his chest; the last thing he wanted was a wheezy, asthmatic teenager suffering because he’d gotten sick from his cousin, which was why Shigure planned on keeping his distance from Yuki until he felt better.

Apparently, the prospect of contagion wasn’t something Ayame wanted to actively prevent between himself and Shigure. In fact, it was almost like the long-haired man was intentionally, purposely putting himself at risk for germ exposure, but that couldn’t have been true.

...Could it?

Shigure had always been very perceptive (a trait he prided himself on, honestly), so picking up on unspoken clues and cues weren’t difficult feats for him. The real mystery was why Ayame was willingly putting his good health at risk. No doubt Hatori wouldn’t appreciate the house call once Ayame managed to inevitably—ah. 

Resting his spoon in the soup container, Shigure leaned his temple into Ayame’s silvery head due to its convenient proximity. “Aya,” he started, as casually as his congested, nasally tone would allow. “Have you seen Ha’ri lately? I can’t help but think it’s been a while since the three of us spent time together.” 

“Alas, I have not,” Ayame sighed, his generous lips curving down in a frown. “He’s been busy. I’ve tried dropping by his home and his office, but he seems to always be elsewhere. It’s quite tragic. I’m sure he’s missing me dearly.” 

Shigure did feel slightly warm against him, and Ayame scratched his long nails gently along the other man’s scalp. “I presume you’ve seen him? It seems he only has time for his patients these days.”

That is it, Shigure thought, as Ayame confirmed his former suspicion. In a dramatic cry for Hatori’s attention, Ayame was trying to get sick on purpose, therefore forcing Hatori to see him in person. It was foolproof in its execution, due to Ayame’s uncanny ability to catch a cold whenever the opportunity presented itself, but the fact that the Snake had been desperate enough to resort to such measures… 

That was what made it pitiful. 

“Mmm, no. I haven’t seen the good doctor in a while myself,” Shigure replied, closing his eyes and leaning into Ayame’s affectionate contact. 

It might have been the Dog spirit within him, but Shigure could never quite resist having his hair stroked or played with. Far too many a time had he fallen asleep with Ayame’s nimble fingers combing over his head in soothing, rhythmic patterns. 

“...the drawbacks of being a responsible adult, I suppose.” 

“Hmm,” Ayame mused, letting his gaze drift. “I do hope he’s alright. He’s always been so masterful at playing the stoic, but it does make it rather hard to determine his general emotional state.” He shook his head. “It was so much easier when Kana was around to keep track of him.”

He glanced to Shigure, whose face was now much closer to his in their new arrangement. “Do you still see her around the estate, when you visit?”

In his relaxed, blissful state, Shigure had almost dozed off. He roused, however, upon hearing Ayame’s question. “From what Mayu’s told me, Kana no longer lives at the estate. She and her new husband moved a few hours away to be closer to his family.”

It was probably for the best, considering that any potential run-in Kana had with Hatori risked triggering her suppressed memories. After all the poor woman had been through, she didn’t deserve a relapse into manic depression. 

A slight readjustment of Shigure’s head coaxed an errant strand of Ayame’s long hair to brush against his face and, consequently, his nose. The response that followed wasn’t instantaneous, but it was clear by the way Shigure groaned and moved away that he wasn’t escaping the situation without repercussions.

Despite Ayame deliberately wanting to get sick, Shigure still turned away and drew his long sleeve upward, shielding his hitching profile. 

“IH’GSCHHHhh!—hh’IDSZCHHhhih!” Doubles were common for him, even when he wasn’t sick, but this time a second, harsher set followed: “—hh’IGHSCHHhuh!—IH’CHSCHhhuh!”

Drippy and tearing, Shigure kept his sleeve in place until he could produce his tissue again. “And here I thought I’d lucked out with a good nose,” he snuffled, poking fun at himself. “So sorry to ruin our tender moment.”

“Oh no, darling, it’s my fault for hassling you when you should be resting.” Ayame curled back into Shigure’s side as if nothing had happened, tilting his cheek onto his shoulder again. “Mine instructed me to drop off the soup and leave you in peace, but I just couldn’t help myself. I had to make sure you weren’t wasting away in solitude.”

In all honesty, Ayame was the most likely of the Mabudachi trio to sulk through illness and seek out attention and affection, but wasn’t that just Ayame any day of the week? Shigure toed the median between aloof Hatori and ostentatious Ayame, though he was often the only of the three to use his illness as leverage, usually against Akito.

Distracted, Ayame sighed. “And I’m quite fond of your poor nose. You mustn't be rude to it like that.”

“It does have its perks,” Shigure agreed, referring to his ability to pick up on faraway and otherwise unnoticeable scents. “But it also has its drawbacks. I could do without the sensitivity.” Those instances consisted of strong smells, spices, and in his current case, illness. 

With Ayame back at his side, Shigure resumed a comfortable lean against him as he’d done before. They were still shuffling around the elephant in the room, so perhaps it was best to finally broach the topic.

“You know... If you were to fall ill, which I have no doubt you will at this point,” Shigure started, sniffing. “I imagine Hatori would suddenly have time to see you.” 

Too bold, maybe? Whoops. 

Ayame pulled away slightly, eyeing Shigure. “That would be a silver lining, I suppose,” he said carefully. “Though I’m sure I could also track Tori down in a myriad of other ways if I was truly desperate.”

“Oh, of course,” Shigure agreed, feigning ignorance. “Thank goodness you haven’t reached that level of desperation yet.” It occurred to him that his soup was going cold, which was why he reached for the spoon to pick up where he left off. “It was silly of me to even suggest it.” 

Was Shigure teasing him? It was likely, but that didn’t mean he was being malicious. Ayame shrugged and settled in to play along.

“Well, even if I were that desperate, you could hardly blame me.” His eyes widened, golden and sympathetic. “You two are the most important people in my life, outside of my beloved Mine, and I suffer so greatly when I’m deprived of your company. Also,” he added, almost as an afterthought, “Hatori needs someone to remind him at times that life is not all doom and gloom, and I think I fit that bill quite well.”

Shigure hummed around the utensil in his mouth. “True,” he agreed, once he’d swallowed and freed his tongue. “You’ve always been the perfect ray of sunshine for him.” 

Though they were all close friends and cousins, they each had different relationships and dynamics with one another. While Shigure’s own interactions with Hatori were playful and coy, there was a level of darkness there that Shigure rarely let Ayame see. On the other hand, Shigure knew that Hatori wasn’t a fan of the shenanigans he and Ayame often partook in. Ayame’s connection to Hatori was one of deep admiration and fawning over, and while the Dragon didn’t return the open affection, Shigure knew Hatori cared for Ayame in his own way. 

“I suppose we simply have to accept that he’s got his own agenda nowadays,” Shigure said and, unable to not stir the pot, he added nonchalantly: “Though he does have time for his girlfriend...” 

Ayame’s gaze narrowed. “His girlfriend?” he murmured, voice dropping low with excitement. “Gure, I hope you’re messing with me, elsewise dear Hatori has much explaining to do.”

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Shigure gasped, tilting his head to the side in a way that befitted his Zodiac animal. He ladled some soup into his spoon and then let it fall back into the container slowly. “He and Mayu have been going on little outings together from time to time. It’s not surprising, given how she’s held onto her feelings for him all this time.”

He paused for a moment to direct a cough into his shoulder, and once he surfaced from it he tacked on: “It would certainly explain why he’s suddenly become so unavailable.” 

In truth, it probably wasn’t the reason at all. Shigure didn’t know for sure if Hatori and Mayu were going on dates regularly, but he saw no harm in playing it up for the sake of his own personal amusement. That and he couldn’t resist teasing Ayame a bit more.

“He’s dating Mayu?” Ayame asked, stunned. “That’s...rather unexpected.”

But good, Ayame realized, as he continued to mull over the information. Mayuko had known their family for years, and she was one of the rare few that knew and understood the full devastating impacts of the situation with Kana. She was able to meet Hatori at a place that few others were. There was a twinge of jealousy, of course, because that meant Ayame would have one more person to compete with for Hatori’s time, but overall it was a feeling of warmth that filled his chest.

He glanced back to Shigure. “Are you alright with this? You did date Mayu for a while, after all.”

Shigure abandoned the soup for the time being, having finished most of it anyway, and turned his full attention on the man seated beside him. “Of course I am. Mayu and I were never serious, as you know. It was just a way to pass the time. She needed the company, and I was bored.” 

It was a cold and cruel thing to say, but it was the truth. Shigure was nothing if not brutally honest when it came to his interactions with others. 

“As far as I’m concerned, Hatori is better suited for her than I ever was. And besides…” A smirk upturned his lips, though it seemed more devious than amused. “I have other, far more important interests to pursue.” 

Ayame knew there was more to those words than met the eye, but he left it alone and shrugged. “Naturally.”

“In the end,” Shigure continued, easily transitioning back into his carefree demeanor. “You’re the only one for me, Aya. No one else could ever hope to compare.” He cupped Ayame’s cheek and then broke character for a moment to ask: “By the way, are you hungry? Tohru saved me breakfast, but I’m filling up on soup.” 

Ayame pressed his lips to the inside of Shigure’s wrist and winked, then pushed the other man away. “Tea please, if you’re offering.”

“More like tea-se,” Shigure lamented, referring to Ayame being flirty with him and then pushing him away (though he wasn’t really heartbroken over it at all). He smiled. “Be back shortly.”

The Dog stood to his feet and stepped into the kitchen behind them. It wasn’t often that he prepared tea anymore, since it was usually already prepared for him by Tohru, but it was easy enough to put some together on his own. As the water boiled, Shigure leaned back against the counter and waited.

Be it the physical shift from sitting to standing, or the sunlight streaming in through the kitchen window, something was getting to his nose again. Without trying to fight it off—why bother?—Shigure turned into an upraised shoulder just as his hitching breath gave way. 

“Hhh’ITSCHHhhuh!” His flooding eyes squinted open for a second before immediately closing against a second sneeze. This one bent him forward slightly. “IH’TZSCHHhh!” 

A tissue still remained in his pocket, but he’d had it since waking up, and it was probably two swipes short of breaking apart. Thankfully, there was an entire box on the kitchen table, which saved Shigure the effort of seeking tissues elsewhere. Sniffling, he secured a few sheets and made sure his leaky nose wouldn’t be a problem once he served them tea. 

Ayame huffed a laugh from the living room. “Bless you!” he called. 

It didn’t seem to be a particularly unpleasant cold - Shigure’s nose always troubled him when he was ill, so this wasn’t out of the ordinary - and if his normal patterns held true, then Ayame would be down with it within a few days. 

“Thank you, dear!” Shigure called back, once he’d thrown away the used tissues and washed his hands. The tea was ready by the time he returned to the task and, being careful not to spill any of the hot liquid, he carried them back into the living room. “Here we are.”

Ayame took the offered cup with a smile and then lifted it to Shigure in a toast. “To your health, my love.” 

After a while of sipping tea, Shigure was beginning to feel slightly warm. Ayame pressed the back of his hand to Shigure’s forehead to check his temperature; he clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“Why don’t you lie down, darling? You need to rest.”

Shigure had attributed feeling warm to the tea that was settling in his belly, but he supposed an increase in temperature wasn’t too unexpected given his illness. 

“Just like old times, hm?” he asked, readjusting. 

The ‘old times’ he referred to consisted of their adolescence, when Shigure utilized lunchtime and free periods for naps. It was nostalgic to remember the three of them seated on the rooftop of their high school, Shigure with his head resting on Ayame’s thighs, while Ayame enthusiastically declared his student council plans to a half-listening Hatori. Ah, youth. 

With his head now settled on his cousin’s lap just as it had been all those years before, Shigure found that he was less inclined to stay awake.

“Of course,” Ayame soothed, his piano fingers already beginning to work their way through Shigure’s soft, graying hair. “I do miss those days at times. Everything seemed so much simpler then.”

Ayame could feel Shigure slipping further towards sleep. He took a moment to reach for Shigure’s cup of tea and sip from it. He had no doubt that at this point he was bound to catch Shigure’s cold, but it couldn’t hurt to make sure. After all...he had to get Hatori’s attention somehow.

He wasn’t sure how long they rested like that for, but soon Shigure’s breathing grew deeper and more even, and Ayame allowed his hand to still. Shigure wouldn’t nap long, and Ayame could help him relocate to the couch or his bed if he was still drowsy upon waking. Then Ayame could return to Mine and his shop, and hopefully within the next few days he’d awake to a scratchy throat and tickly nose.

Ayame leaned down to press a gentle kiss to Shigure’s forehead. For now, at least, he could just enjoy the moment.

[Zane]

This was really well written! Thanks so much for posting this. Fruits Basket is my favorite anime series and even though Hatori is my favorite it’s fun to read fics about Shigure and Ayame.  I so hope there’s more. ☺️