One Horn

Chapter 5: Sick

Hello my dear readers! I feel like I haven't updated One Horn in a while, so here I am. Means to an End will be updated next, if you can't see, I'm rotating. I'm at a crossroads here with how to carry the story, and I'm at the point where I'm about to just throw darts for it. No fan art for the chapter, but I did make my own art because I felt motivated to. You can find the art as my new heading image for my profile. That shit took me more than twelve hours to draw. This chapter isn't edited or beta read because I posted this right after finishing it. Anyway, I'm going back to my corner to write MtaE now. See you guys later with that.

Enjoy!~

_

Days past with no leads, and Hizashi was starting to get antsy. He'd worked missing person cases before, and he'd seen the different reactions that the families and friends had. He could now say he understood how they felt.

As much as he tried, he couldn't relax. He took a hiatus from his radio show, it's happened before, so his listeners wouldn't be too caught off guard, and he used his time doing more patrols, and following whatever leads he could find. Nezu was being patient with him, surprisingly, and was working just as hard to find Shouta.

The investigation came to a standstill when a lead ran dry, and Hizashi needed to take a moment outside to punch a dumpster in his frustration.

There were two days where there was nothing.

The longest two days of his life.

It felt like Shirakumo all over again.

He felt useless sitting around and doing nothing when his partner could be somewhere, hurt and alone, and they wouldn't know. He could already be-

Hizashi went out on another patrol.

They haven't found a body, or any evidence that Shouta had passed. He couldn't be thinking like that.

He scoured the city, searching every alley he could until he felt like he'd pass out. It was another waste of four hours, but at least he knew that Shouta wasn't rotting in some alleyway. It didn't stop him from feeling like it wasn't enough.

Feet dragging on the ground, he made his way back to his apartment. The cold empty home welcomed him, and he crawled into his bed.

Then his phone rang.

_

Shouta was starting to loose track of the time. If it weren't for the small clock on the wall, he'd be loose his sense of time completely. He still didn't know if it was morning or night time, though. His arms and legs ached, and each small movement sent spikes of pain through his body.

But Shouta couldn't get himself to care about the pain he was feeling.

He looked to his right to see Deku shivering harshly, curled up in a ball with the blanket wrapped around his small frame. The boy coughed into the blanket every few minutes, and his breathing was labored. Shouta's brow furrowed.

"Deku-kun?" Shouta spoke softly. Deku turned to him, a thin layer of sweat on his skin. "Can I check your temp?"

"What?" Deku croaked.

"Can I touch your forehead?"

"Oh. Uh... o-okay."

Consent given, Shouta slowly reached a hand over to brush Deku's hair away from his face, and pointedly looked away from the small scar through Deku's right eyebrow and the bandage on his temple. The boy flinched lightly when he put his hand on his forehead, but didn't move away. "Gods Kid, you're burning up."