JJBA Oneshots

Muhammad Avdol; Medicine Man.

"It's okay, honey." Your mom ran her slender fingers through your (hair color) locks, a look of worry sprawled across her face; a look you could barely make out through half-opened eyes. It hurt when you opened them, a sharp pain blasting from the top of your head to your toes.

You have had headaches since you could remember. They started off small, regular discomfort or small pangs. As you got older, it began progressing. Normally you could manage...

You woke up from a nice slumber a few days ago, with your head unbearably throbbing, and your body unwilling to move up and out of bed from the pain. You figured it was stress making these bouts worse, as you were working a difficult job in order to help your parents. You laid in bed all day long, expecting it to just...go away, eventually.

But here you were. Still in bed. You couldn't keep foods down and it was a struggle to even keep water down, too. Your parents thought you had come down with some sort of illness, but you told them over and over again; it was just your head. The shrilling pain that drilled through your skull was the reason your body was malfunctioning, hoping that if it operated at a lower degree, it would begin to subside the pain a little bit. But it didn't. You were simply miserable.

"Your father is going to get some help...you'll feel better soon, I promise."

You doubted that very highly. You didn't think anything could possibly make you feel better...it was so bad, perhaps death was the only way you could escape agony? Oh well.

"I-I'm going to...take a nap." You managed out, and with a sympathetic smile, your mother nodded. You were barely awake for five seconds after the words left your lips.

"(Y/n)...(Y/n)!...," A familiar voice called.

"Too loud..." You groaned, a displeased look taking place on your face.

"Oh...I'm sorry, dear."

You peered your eyes open, as much as you could, without your brain turning a lump of massive firey rage. It was your father. He was crouched down beside you, next to your bed. You could vaguely make out the silhouette of your mother by your doorway, along with another person...but they were too blurry to make out from that distance. You were not aware of who it was.

"I found someone...he's a healer, he's going to help you." Your father spoke, and as he did, the figure in the back; the one you couldn't make out, stepped closer into your challenged eyesight.

"Just relax," The mans voice was deep and sultry, almost alluring. "I will take good care of you."

Sucking in a deep breath of reassurance, your aching muscles succumbed to the comforting ambiance that radiated from the man. For a moment, you were stricken with hope, so relieved, that your eyes had dropped, and you had entered back into a deep slumber.

The next time you regained consciousness, everything was a blur. You were in a different room, recognizing it as the washroom, and you were a bit astounded that you hadn't woken up whilst being carried. The cool metal of the tub pressed against your back and you realized you were now in the bath, albeit still clothed in your nightgown. Large hands massaged at your scalp, a thick lathery soap-like substance dropped from the coated strands of your hair down onto your shoulders.

The soap substance smelled nice, a strong mix of different herbs pungent to your senses. You noticed that whatever this man was doing...was helping. You could feel the weight in your head, sunken like a big bag of rocks, lift away slowly but surely.

His soft hands guided your head backwards, and you looked at him with big eyes, vision finally clearing so you could see straight, for the first time in a few days. He smiled a bit.

The man's appearance matched the attractiveness of his voice. His black locks sat in twisted knots atop of his head, and his facial structure was sharp. Kind brown eyes looked back into yours.

"This is going to be cold," He warned, picking up a bucket filled with cool water next to the tub. He poured the water on your scalp and rinsed his herb solution from your head. He was right, it was cold. Small bumps formed on your skin. "My apologies."

After he made sure all of the substance had been washed from your head, the man stood from his crouched position and found something to dry his hands with. You sunk down in the tub a bit, realizing your sopped nightgown was sticking to your skin. You blushed a bit. The man seemed to not notice, or he didn't make it obvious, at least.

"How are you feeling?." He questioned.

"...Better."

"Wonderful," He grinned triumphantly, before finding something to hand you, to dry and wrap yourself up in. "I will tell your mother to bring you a change of clothes."

He exited the room, and you waited impatiently for your mother to bring you some warm, and more importantly, dry garments. You got changed with the help of your mother, body still a little bit sore and struggling from nearly being on the verge of shutting down. After she helped you change, she helped you dry your hair a decent amount so it wasn't dripping, and she braided it quickly and loosely, tying it together. You leaned on your mother's shoulder as she helped you exit the washroom.

The healer and your father stood outside of your room, where you were headed.

"She will need lots of rest for a few days, do not be alarmed if she sleeps a lot," The man spoke. "I will be back soon to check on her and give additional treatments if needed."

"Alright...how much do I owe?." A hint of nervousness shook in your fathers voice, fully aware your family didn't have much funds to give the man.

"Do not worry about that. It's free of charge."

—

It had been a few days after the treatment, and you were slowly but surely regaining your strength. You were able to now keep liquids and foods down and you could now walk a fair amount although still not like you used to. You imagined in just a few more days you would be as good as new and be back to normal life.

You sat in your bed currently, sipping on the broth of a nice soup your mother had kindly prepared for you for lunch, when the familiar woman's head popped in through the doorway of your small room.

"(Y/n), the shaman is here to visit you." She turned to the man who had healed you, and let him through the door.

"You look like you feel much better." The man smiled.

You nodded at him. "Yes, I feel very much better...thank you."

"Thanks is not needed," He waved you off, approaching closer, the man crouched by your bed and looked at you steadily. "Do you have any prevailing symptoms?."

"A bit of soreness...but that is all."

"That's great to hear, it seems like I won't have to preform a second treatment. I believe you're all cleared," He cleared his throat, and stood back to his feet, ready to be on his way so soon. "Please do not hesitate to contact me if your symptoms return."

"Yes sir...erm, excuse me," Your voice caught his attention, his back already turned to you. "What is your name?."

"My name?," He turned his head, brown eyes peering over his shoulder at you. "Muhammad Avdol."

"Mr. Muhammad...please forgive me if I am out of line but," You hesitated a bit, building up the courage for the words to escape your lips. "I would like to see you again, sir. Please come visit me sometime again, yes...?."

"I...I would like that," Your heart rate calmed down upon hearing his response, scared you were going to be rejected. "I will visit again, soon."

With that, the attractive medicine man with black hair, brown eyes, and a large red coat, took his exit.

You sat with a smile, beginning to sip from the broth of your soup again, wondering how long it would be before you saw him again.