In Sickness

If there's one thing Ino loves more than you, it's the chance to celebrate you.

He's been looking forward to your birthday for weeks, excitement pouring out of him each day it grew closer. A day hasn't gone by without him dropping little hints hidden behind that charming grin of his. And it'd be a lie to say his eagerness wasn't contagious. Every tease, every clue, every promise that your first birthday as a couple would be nothing short of spectacular had you eagerly awaiting the day almost as much as him.

That eagerness turns to pure, unfiltered excitement the night before your birthday when a box appears at your front door. It's plain, smooth black material tied with a silky, white ribbon. The size tells you it's either a dress or an outfit, but the card tucked into the ribbon gives you clear instructions not to open it until morning. Your fingers itch to disobey, nails picking at the edges of the ribbon, the corners of the lid, any part they can reach as you carry the box to your bedroom.

A little peek wouldn't hurt, right?

Knowing what you'll be wearing would help you figure out how to do your hair...

What if there are no shoes in the box? You wouldn't want Ino's plans to be delayed because you spent too long finding the right pair.

What if it's not an outfit at all? That's even more time you'll waste trying to find something else to wear.

Your mind races with a million reasons to tear into the box, fingers already curling under the lid.

But Ino's handsome face flashes through your mind, a tight smile hiding his imagined disappointment. Something knots in your stomach, immediately repulsed at possibly ruining weeks of work. If Ino can manage to wait this long without spoiling the surprise, you can too.

You quell your anxious urges by sending him a picture of yourself holding the box before tucking it beneath your bed. Out of sight, out of mind.

Ino responds immediately, your phone buzzing once, twice, thrice as you prepare for bed.

Several texts await you when you finally settle in bed. A slew of heart emojis followed by a paragraph of compliments and finished with a single text wishing you a good night. You can't help the laughter that bubbles out of you, feeling the warmth in your cheeks and the thrumming in your heart at the thought of him so excited to spend time with you.

You fall asleep staring at his photo beaming at you from the lock screen of your phone, and dream of all the ways you'll spend tomorrow.

With all of your anticipation, it's only fitting that you wake early the next morning with a throbbing pain nested comfortably in your head. When you shift beneath your covers, the pain spreads to your limbs, leaving a resounding ache. Every move, every blink, every thought only serves to make you feel worse until you grow frustrated and force yourself to sit up.

Your mistake is quickly realized as your vision doubles, stomach turning so violently you choke trying to swallow down your dry heave.

Of all the days for this to happen.

Carefully laying yourself back down, you gingerly slide your hand to the side for your phone. It takes a sickening effort to lift your phone and even more to get it close to your face. The artificial light is nearly blinding in the early morning hours, sending renewed pulses of pain through your skull. You put all your focus and concentration into unlocking your phone and finding Ino's texts. There's no way you'll be able to form a proper sentence, much less type it out.

You're not entirely sure what you say to him in the voice note. You know what you meant to say - something along the lines of "I'm so sorry, I think I'm sick." - but your throat scratches with every word. Combined with your already sleep-thick voice, the message is short and takes what little energy you have left.