A Co-Captain's Doubts

Feverish Dreams

The antique wooden clock that hung high on the living room wall ticked a methodical rhythm as Kokoro Sawamura flipped a page in her book. Her legs were tucked neatly beneath her as she sat under the warm blanket attached to the kotatsu, her chin cradled in her palm as she read, debating if it was time to refresh the rag on Suga's burning forehead. After an hour of watching her brother watch their guest fidget and groan in his sleep, Kokoro managed to convince Daichi to go for his jog. He was worried about his friend, and she knew that, but she was starting to think the anxious crease between his brows would become permanent.

He needed a break, and she meant it when she told him she didn't mind sitting with Sugawara. With reluctance, he finally agreed, and she promised to stay by his side in case he woke up. He wasn't happy about it but admitted fresh air would be nice. A short while later Daichi was in his workout clothes, headphones hanging around his neck. He stepped out the front door with a quiet reassurance he'd be back soon, then was gone. A short while later, the program on TV ended and Mr. Sawamura donned his hat and gloves to clear the driveway of snow while their mother went upstairs to take a bath.

Eyes lifting from her page, Kokoro's gaze strayed and rested on Sugawara's sleeping face. She watched as his features tensed and relaxed, his head occasionally rocking from one side to the other, and frowned. What was it that plagued the older teen and prevented him from a restful sleep? Was it the fever? As she watched, he rocked to the side again and the cloth on his forehead slid off, revealing thick grey brows pulled up in discomfort. They'd only just taken him into their care that morning, but Kokoro thought he would be feeling at least a little better by now. Her heart ached, she wished she could take away his suffering.

Setting her book on the table, Kokoro slid from under the kotatsu and moved to his side to retrieve the now warm rag, noticing the pink flush that still lingered on his cheeks and ears. Dipping the cloth into the bowl of ice water a few times, she wrang it out and folded it into a neat rectangle once more. when she combed his bangs back with her fingers, she frowned at the relentless heat emanating from his skin. He was burning up, but she noticed him still clutching the blanket as though he were freezing. Pausing in replacing the rag on his forehead, she ran her fingers through his bangs a few more times, her expression soft with concern. Unable to help herself, she slid her hand to push his curls behind his ear, then drifted to cup his burning cheek. Suddenly, he gasped, and a hand came up to shove her shoulder.

"Get off of me!"

"Woah!"

Kokoro fell onto her butt, clutching her hands to her pounding heart, and stared at him wide-eyed. He was sitting up now, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he looked around, his expression one of bewilderment. His hair stood on end from rubbing it into the pillow, and the bags beneath his eyes made him look desperate and scared.

In a small voice, Kokoro lowered her clenched hands. "Suga-chan?..."

She felt as though he was looking right through her, but as soon as she spoke, clarity lit his eyes. He pulled in another gasp, and he blinked rapidly before digging his fingers into his hair and tugging at the roots.

"Kokoro. I'm sorry. I thought you were—I mean-I didn't realize it was—It uh..." His voice was rough and quiet, his words nearly inaudible. "Wasn't real..."

Had she heard him correctly? She wasn't sure, but she knew she didn't like how hard he was pulling on his hair. Crawling across the floor, she sat on her knees in front of him and tried to tug his hands from his head.

"You're gonna pull your hair out, stop that."

Leaning away from her, the corners of his mouth drew down in a miserable frown. "I deserve it for shoving you."