Fandom: Detective Conan
Characters: Heiji/Kazuha (General series)
Word Count: 2740 words
Author's Notes: I do not own Detective Conan. It all belongs to Gosho Aoyama. I simply borrow the characters, tie them up, and dance them around like life-sized puppets. I do wish they’d stop complaining.
Summary: Kazuha woke up one morning to find that she could. Not. Move. Heiji/Kazuha
Kazuha’s infernal alarm went off a good while before the sun decided to grace the morning with its presence. She let out a little whimper and flailed around in search of the button to turn it off. Her eyes wouldn’t work, and her limbs felt unusually heavy, but she managed to find the beeping monster and get her fingers on the right button to make the damn thing shut up.
On most mornings, this was the point where she would sit up, rub her eyes, and mutter a few decidedly uncomplimentary things about evil mornings under her breath before getting up and getting dressed for work and starting her day. But on this particular morning, she couldn’t even get herself to sit upright. Her arms wouldn’t support her enough for her to push herself into a sitting position.
As she flopped bonelessly back to the bed, she noticed vaguely that the other side of the bed was empty. Heiji had mentioned getting up early to go to police headquarters for something. He was probably already awake and up and about. Good for him. With no further ado, Kazuha snuggled back into her pillow and went right back to sleep.
When she again opened her eyes, it was well after sunrise, and her cell phone was ringing on her nightstand. She instinctively tried to reach for it, and quickly found that she could not move her arms, not even enough to grab the phone. It took a great deal of struggling, but she managed to get ahold of her phone. Oh…it was work…why wasn’t she in yet?
She thought she mumbled something about not feeling well. Whatever she said, it seemed to work. Her co-worker cooed a bit on the other end of the line and said something about telling the manager for her before telling her to feel better and hanging up.
The phone fell from her hand and clattered to the floor, and Kazuha dropped back to the pillow. She was asleep almost instantly, her last swirling thoughts all involving her inability to move and why did her head hurt and her stomach and…and…
Kazuha’s sleep was not peaceful. She had dreams, the kind of strange dreams a person can only have while fevered. In Kazuha’s case, she dreamt that she was running up a giant spiral Christmas tree made out of metal, and there were strange little imp-like creatures on flying broomsticks chasing her while she tried to hang large donuts on the branches.
When she woke up again, it was for a mere moment…and then she dropped right back into the dream. Now she was on roller skates, which made it extremely difficult to get up the tree. But she had to light the big snowman on top, or else something bad would happen and would those damn imps stop throwing things at her?
Again she woke up. This time she sat up in bed, though her head was swimming violently. Her mouth felt like a desert, and her scalp itched. It was the kind of dirty, scratchy feeling that seems to accompany the other crummy feelings of being sick. After several minutes of intensely focused effort, she managed to form one coherent thought.
She more or less crawled across the floor to make it to the bathroom, and managed to get to her feet by clinging to the vanity and keeping one hand on the toilet for balance while she turned the water on and found a nice temperature. Stepping under the spray took a bit more effort, but she leaned against the wall and let the water run over her. She felt a bit more human already, and even managed to shampoo her hair and use a little body wash.
Then she closed her eyes to blink.
When she opened them again, she was sitting down in the tub, her head leaning against the wall as the water continued to shower down on her. She had no recollection of sitting—had she fallen or passed out? She didn’t think so. She didn’t seem to have any bruises or anything like that to suggest that she had taken a spill.
This was probably a bad, bad sign.
She turned off the water and wrapped up in a towel and stumbled back to Heiji’s room by simple virtue of the fact that it was closer. Without ceremony or pretense, she flopped down on top of the bed clad only in her towel, not caring if she got the comforter wet. She lay like that for a good while before she realized that she should probably get at least some sort of clothing on before Heiji came home. He might get the wrong idea, and she wasn’t in the frame of mind to deal with it.
A bit of fumbling with his dresser drawer and feeling around secured her an oversized T-shirt. There was then an epic battle of her trying to actually get the garment on. For a time, the victor was undecided, but she finally managed to get her head through the right opening and pull the shirt into place. It was huge, the hem ending almost at her knees. Perfect.
That was about all she had the energy to accomplish. She crawled back under the blankets and snuggled into bed…and only then realized that the curtains were open and the sunlight was pouring in. Right onto her face. She moaned and pulled the blankets up over her head to block out the light that got in her eyes and made her head throb.
…and she dropped right back into the dream. Why was everything on fire now?
When Heiji came in and called out the fact, he glanced around and was a bit surprised to realize that Kazuha was nowhere to be found. She would usually call back to him or bounce out to say hello. Instead, he was met with silence and empty rooms. But her shoes were still by the door, and when he opened the closet to hang up his jacket, he saw that her jacket was still hanging on its hook. So she hadn’t gone out. Perhaps she was asleep?
Slipping off his shoes, he tiptoed over and peeked into her bedroom. No sign of her. The bed was still neatly made. The bathroom door was open and the light in there was off. She wasn’t in the living room or the kitchen. So that left only one other room in the apartment.
He crept to the doorway of his own bedroom and glanced in. Sure enough, the bed was unmade, and there was a definite person-sized lump buried underneath the blankets. He could see a few locks of dark brown hair and one hand protruding from under the bedding, and that was it, but it was enough to tell him that his suspicion was correct.
Chuckling to himself, Heiji entered the room and moved around to her side of the bed. How should he wake her up? So many options, so little time. This could be a great deal of fun. Grinning, he reached out and tugged the blanket away from her face. He was a bit surprised, though, to see that she was wearing a T-shirt (when she usually dressed up a bit for work), and she looked a bit pale.
He was reaching for her forehead to check her temperature when he winced at the invasion of the light into her dark little nest of blankets and rolled over with a soft moan. “Heiji…” she mumbled, not fully awake. “No sex now. M’sick…” She tugged at the blankets, whimpering as she tried to pull them back up again to shield her from the mean sunlight.
And Heiji was torn between feeling bad for disturbing her, wondering what he could do to make things better for her, and laughing his head off at the ‘no sex’ comment. Even when she was half-asleep, she could see right through him!
He resigned himself to chuckling a little and closing the curtains to ward off a bit more of the sunlight that was causing her so many problems. She relaxed as the room grew darker, and actually smiled a little when he straightened the blankets around her a bit. As he snuck out of the room and closed the door behind him, he couldn’t help but think that the ahou was turning him into a softie.
Oh well. There were certainly worse things in the world.
When Kazuha next opened her eyes, the sky beyond the curtains was dark. When had it gotten dark? And hadn’t the curtains been open before? Yes, they had—the sunlight was bothering her, but she couldn’t move enough to go take care of it. So she had hidden under the blankets as her only real alternative course of action.
…had someone come into the room? She couldn’t really remember clearly, but she thought she recalled the feeling of someone entering and standing over her. But the only person that could have been was Heiji. If it was dark out, he was probably home.
Her head was slowly clearing, and the world was gradually coming back into focus. All right, it was time to find out if she could sit up…and yes, she could! Her mind still felt like it was wrapped in a cloud of fog, but overall she did feel a bit better. And she could move. That was a definite improvement over how she had felt earlier that morning.
She cautiously swung her feet over the edge of the bed and tentatively pushed herself off the bed to stand. She wobbled a little bit, but her legs would support her. But she was cold…her hand grappled on the bed for the throw blanket she’d tossed over herself the previous night, and she managed to get it wrapped haphazardly around herself before she began shuffling towards the door.
Her hands didn’t want to cooperate, either; it took her a few seconds to get a tight enough grip on the doorknob to turn it, but at last she managed to get the door open and hobble out into the living room. She was just so tired…
Heiji looked up from the TV when she came in. “Good morning. How ya feeling?”
“Sleepy…” she murmured. Her knees chose that moment to announce (through vigorous shaking) that they had reached their limit, and she barely managed to make it to the couch before they gave out entirely; she nearly landed on Heiji, instead managing to hit the cushion next to him. Her head lulled to the side, and found a shoulder ready and waiting for it. “M’body dun wanna work…”
“Then why are you out of bed, ahou?” he chided, putting his hand on the side of her head to keep it on his shoulder, and thus keeping her upright. “Go back to bed. Get more sleep.”
She didn’t even have the energy to retort on the old nickname. Instead, she just snuggled a little closer to him and closed her eyes. “Wanted to see you…weren’t there when I woke up…”
Heiji sighed. “Ahou…” he murmured the word out of habit, and with no real force or feeling behind it. But he did turn his head enough to press a kiss to her forehead, a bit startled to realize that she was still very warm. “I think we need to get you back in bed to sleep this off.”
“Y’always wanna get me in bed…” she said muzzily, and he nearly choked on a laugh. But overall, he really couldn’t complain. She might have been only half awake, but she was still curled up to him so nicely, and if she was more or less asleep, then she wasn’t yelling at him. And for her part, Kazuha got to sleep using him as a very willing pillow.
It was really a very nice arrangement for the both of them, all things considered.
But the fact was that she was sick and needed some good rest. So Heiji slid out from under her, shifting to lean her against the back of the couch. She made a little whimper of protest as the loss of the warmth and snuggling, but didn’t open her eyes. But she did make a little happy noise when he picked her up bridal-style, and snuggled into his chest, mumbling something he couldn’t understand.
She was so cute sometimes. When she wasn’t yelling. Then she was pretty.
It didn’t take him too long to get her tucked back into bed—his bed, if only so he could keep an eye on her while she slept. Chances were that it wasn’t anything serious, but it didn’t hurt to be cautious. Besides, ever since they had started sharing sleeping space, they both had a bit of an insomnia problem if they weren’t in the same bed.
“Hmm…” Kazuha groaned softly as he patted the blanket around her. “Than’ you…”
Heiji chuckled, though he punctuated it with a yawn of his own. He had been up awfully early that morning, now that he thought about it. Maybe it was time he got some sleep as well…
The next morning found Kazuha awaking after sunrise once again. But at least this time the sun didn’t hurt quite so much. She sat up and looked around. Her head hurt, and her throat was scratchy. But overall, she felt a great deal better.
She hobbled out to the kitchen with every intention of finding something to drink to try and soothe her parched throat. Heiji was already out there, apparently fixing himself some gourmet toast. He grinned when he saw her, and she wondered how much of that was because the only stitch of clothing on her consisted of one of his T-shirts. “Morning, sunshine,” he cheered, and she felt the suddenly urge to punch him for it. “How’re ya feeling?”
Kazuha opened her mouth to respond…and found that she could barely make a sound. A small croaking noise escaped her. That was it. She couldn’t speak at all, and trying to made her throat try to close up and hurt a great deal. She put one hand to her neck and looked down, biting her lip as she walked into the kitchen beside him and swiped one of his pieces of toast.
Heiji looked a bit surprised, and made no comment about the toast. “What’s wrong?”
She tapped her throat in response and shook her head.
“Can’t talk? Sore throat?” He picked up his plate and headed for the table.
To her amazement, Heiji grinned. “Awesome! That means you can’t yell at me for a few days!”
He didn’t even have time to dodge before the piece of toast she had filched from his plate made an unscheduled death-defying leap through the air and bounced off the side of his head.
He just had to go and be all nice, didn’t he? And now look what had happened—he’d come down with something himself! Heiji groaned and leaned his head against the toilet for lack of a better place to put it. Normally that would be an extremely unpleasant arrangement, but he felt too crappy to care.
All right, so he couldn’t exactly blame it on Kazuha. He didn’t have the same thing she’d had. She hadn’t been throwing up or any of that fun stuff. And truth be told, she was taking care of him. Though given that he had already managed to make one mess on the kitchen floor that she had graciously cleaned up, he was wondering if he would see her doing secretive research on apartment prices.
So here he was, sitting on the bathroom floor with his head against a toilet seat for comfort. And to make things worse, it felt like it was about two hundred degrees in that bathroom. Why was there no ventilation in here? It was awful!
On the bright side, at least he knew that it definitely couldn’t get any worse…
A loud, screeching beeping sound rattled through his ears, turning his brain into curried rice on its way through. For a brief moment, he actually thought he was going to die. What the hell was that?
Kazuha appeared in the doorway a moment later. She was biting her lip. “Umm, Heiji?”
“…that’s the fire alarm. We have to leave the building.”
PS. The main body of this fic is based on personal experience of the first time I ever got sick when I was at college. I could not move for the better part of the day. And of course, THE ENTIRE WORLD was knocking on my door (grumble). The shower part is also exactly what happened. Still don’t know if I passed out or not. The omake was inspired by something I saw on a webcomic—I think it was called Ramen Noodles. Because I don’t pick on Heiji enough.
There will probably be two more installments of the Apartment series before I close this challenge. I already know what they are, and the finale of this…well, it’s something that people have actually asked for and asked about. But it should be a pretty long fic. Either way, I hope you enjoyed. Thanks for reading, all! Much love!