Chapter Text
Everything was hazy and he couldn’t think properly, thoughts muddled and head hot.
His throat felt as if it’d been scraped raw bun sandpaper and his body couldn’t decide whether it wanted to be overly warm -the sickly kind- or freezing cold, the air flow either being too weak to cool him down or too strong and provoking another round of shivering.
“Koutarou?” A soft voice penetrated his thoughts.
He tried to speak, but his tongue laid heavy in his mouth, too much of a weight to shift.
He could feel sweat collecting everywhere, predominantly his palms; overall he felt too hot even though there was a cool cloth on his forehead.
He tried to lick his cracked lips and mumble something.
“You’ll be fine, don’t worry. Don’t push yourself.”
He couldn’t tell who the voice belonged to, feeling as if his eyelids had become the heaviest thing to lift.
He stumbled through the land of wakefulness, sinking into a muddy quicksand and sometimes crawling out and shivering at a cold breeze, catching distorted conversations and shattered murmurs. Words about medicine and money were the only things he could catch onto, but they weren’t held for long, soon being released from his short term memory in favour of thoughts about how the temperature had swung from boiling to freezing yet again.
“Koutarou?” He forced his eyes open only to wince at the brightness of the room, squinting at the blurred form of someone with black hair and gunmetal blue eyes. “Can you drink this for me?”
He made out a cup full of something in front of him and gave a weak nod, the cup settling around his lips.
His sense of taste had gone a while ago, but the runny sludge made its way down his throat without triggering a round of coughing.
Quiet words without any meaning to him were exchanged as drowsiness took over, everything blurring into one until sleep welcomed him with an open embrace.
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Keiji gave a relieved sigh at the sight of his lover sleeping, the tenseness in his body slowly but surely leaving.
“Thank you for buying the herbs and honey,” Suzumeda thanked Kuroo.
“It’s fine, I just want Bo to get better.” Kuroo ran a hand through his bedhead, tiredness showing as he leant against Suzumeda’s table.
“How long did it take you to travel?” Keiji asked.
“A day or so. I went as soon as I was given permission and travelled overnight.”
“That’s risky.”
“It was necessary, otherwise I wouldn’t be here until the early hours of tomorrow.”
“Fair enough. Do you know which room you’re staying in?”
“Yeah, Saruki showed me once I arrived.” Something dark showed in Kuroo’s eyes. “I reckon there’s going to be a war.”
“Everyone thinks so, it’s a matter of when it’s declared.”
“Nohebi is ruled by a corrupt leader, Ichibayashi and Mujinazaka have joined forces and Morikawa is moving too far into our regions,” Kuroo sighed. “Let’s not even get started on Miyagi. I’m amazed war hasn’t broken out between Shiratorizawa and Aoba Johsai.”
“Does Nekoma have any clear allies there?”
“Potentially Karasuno since King Nekomata and King Ukai had a strong connection. I think as long as Karasuno demonstrate they are a worthy ally, we’ll back them.”
“Then we will too.” He felt a potential headache coming from stress and his lack of sleep. “I’m going to rest here, are you going to too?”
“I’ll rest in my room, thanks for Fukuroudani’s hospitality by the way,” Kuroo rolled his shoulders before leaving.
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“I don’t matter now Keiji, just go!” He yelled at Keiji, heartbeat speeding up at the prospect of losing his lover, and more importantly the Prince of Fukuroudani, to an assassin that he could stop.
“Damned Fukuroudani knights,” the hooded person hissed, “always meddling with plans that shouldn’t be interfered with.” The spy lunged forward, his sword aimed at Bokuto’s stomach.
Koutarou evaded the sword and lifted his own up, aiming to slash the assassin’s back.
Bringing down his sword, he didn’t expect the assassin to recover quickly enough to pivot around and block Koutarou’s sword, the two weapons creating a metallic sound that bounced off of the corridor walls.
“Why did you attempt to attack the prince?” He gritted out, using all the pressure he could to break the block.
They alternated between attacks and blocks, creating a metallic melody; both men were strong enough to fend off their opponent’s attacks and fast enough move out of the way in time.
Time sped up, Koutarou unable to see a break the other’s speed and blocks, only able to mark small cuts on his enemy.
He wondered amongst his thoughts too long and hesitated, reaping the results soon after.
“Agh!” He yelped, distracted by the excruciating pain in his chest, his other hand reaching to feel the damage on instinct.
The torches flickered from soft gold to blinding white, everything becoming overwhelming.
“Ha!” The assassin slashed his chest a couple more times, tearing the fabric of his robe and dyeing it scarlet.
He sucked in pained breaths, attempting to focus himself enough to finish this fight.
His enemy lunged forwards with his sword but Koutarou blocked and advanced, throwing everything he had into his next few moves.
Block, attack, swing -how long would it take until someone heard the sounds of a sword fight?- attempted attack-
He blocked with all the strength he had, his attacker’s sword bouncing off and clattering to the floor due to the excess energy.
It was becoming more difficult to breathe with every minute passed and he didn’t know how much longer he’d last. He was losing precious seconds trying to recover-
“Gah!” His sword fell to the ground as he did, the force of his attacker’s tackle sending it too far away from him to reach.
“Die, Fukuroudani scum!” He vaguely recognised the voice of his enemy, but he was more preoccupied with avoiding the knife coming down on his face-
He shifted his head in time to only receive a cut to the face and not a full-blown stab, however that didn’t dissuade his attacker from trying again.
How much did this person weigh? He tensed his lower body, his goal to throw his attacker off and reach his sword.
“Screw it. If I can’t end you with weapons, then I’ll end you with my own fists-”
The wounds on his chest demanded his attention when he began to wheeze after every hit, one of the punches leaving him with a split lip and another making the cold floor spin.
Wait, the floor couldn’t spin, it was solid and was unlikely to move...
“Koutarou!” He weakly moved his head, eyes suddenly becoming too heavy to open. “Koutarou wake up, it’s just a dream-!”
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Keiji didn’t expect to wake up to see his beloved thrashing around on the futon, torso soaked with sweat and forehead burning higher than before.
“Koutarou wake up!” He shook his lover’s arm, not expecting exhausted eyes to flutter open and blearily gaze at him.
“‘T wasn’t real?” Koutarou muttered hoarsely, cheeks flushed from fever and breath wheezy from the recent coughing fit.
“No. You’re in the healer’s room now.” He held Koutarou’s hand firmly, hoping he served as an anchor to reality.
“‘kay...”
“Akaashi-sama.” He looked up to see Suzumeda, the healer frowning. “I’m going to run a cold bath for Bokuto, it’ll help keep his fever down.” He nodded before looking back at Koutarou, hating how hot his skin was yet his lover’s body was tormented by shivers.
When Suzumeda said the bath was ready, he helped support Koutarou’s half-conscious body to the tub.
“His bandages are wrapped with a fabric that will stop the slashes from getting wet. I’ll leave you to bathe him if that’s all right?”
“It’s fine, thank you for preparing the bath. How long does he need to stay in here?” He asked.
“Around 15 minutes. I’ll knock on the door when the time is up.”
Suzumeda closed the door behind her as she left, leaving Keiji to strip his lover out of his sweat-soaked clothes and manhandle him into the bath.
It was a difficult task to get Koutarou into the tub without the water splashing everywhere, but he managed and perched on the stool next to Koutarou, making sure his lover’s head stayed above the water.
“K-Keiji,” he met Koutarou’s fevered gaze, “why’s it so cold?”
“You need to stay in here to help your fever calm down,” he replied quietly.
“How long for?”
“Suzumeda said around 15 minutes. I think she’ll let you wear a top after, maybe a blanket if your fever stays low.”
Koutarou didn’t reply, choosing to close his eyes instead.
He watched the rise and fall of his chest, using a cloth to gently wipe down Koutarou’s face while the other shivered.
Keiji hadn’t seen such...quiet resignation from his lover. Even when Koutarou’s emotions would become doubtful and negative, he hadn’t been anything like he was now.
Suzumeda knocked on the door what seemed like ages later to tell him Koutarou needed to get out of the bath, but she helped lift the half-conscious knight out and kept him standing while Keiji dried him.
“Bokuto can have his top back and if his fever stays low for longer than half an hour, I’ll find a blanket for him.”
“Thank you Suzumeda.”
Koutarou blinked owlishly during the conversation, hearing but not absorbing anything, too exhausted to try.
“Hey Keiji?” He nodded as he helped Koutarou lie down on the new futon, the other one being cleaned by Suzumeda seeing as it was soaked with sweat. “How much information has Arugumi given away?”
“Not enough, but we have Kuroo and he’ll help.”
“That’s good,” Koutarou yawned before weakly holding Akaashi’s hand and drifting back to sleep.
Once Kuroo managed to get some important information out of Arugumi, there would be hell to pay; Keiji would make sure of that.