A Dash of Chili Powder

51

[Okay!]

"I can cook," Yuki provided, a smug grin painted on her face. "'Pends on whatcha want though. I specialize in meat and fruit."

She shrugged, plopping down on Vell's legs deliberately. Didn't matter if he claimed the couch. His damn legs were in HER spot. Her spot was her spot. If she wanted to sit in it, home dude was gonna have to move. 

Ugh. Bony legs and a weird little long thing wriggling around in his pants. Ew.

Kakashi closed his eyes for a moment. "I'm not sure I'm in the mood for buttery meat and star fruit."

"Don't hate. Appreciate."

"No, I do. But...you either char the meat or undercook it."

She flushed, irritated. "So? I like it charred and rare too!"

"Na, Amaya-san - Rage-kun's been acting weird, right? I mean, you might not know him well but he's still...not normal. Isn't he?"

Amaya lifted her head just a little, barely recognizing what Scythe said as a question, and curled up into a tighter ball. She shivered slightly and shook as her face wrinkled for a sneeze that wouldn't come. Pulling her afghan blanket up higher, she groaned quietly. 

If anyone said anything to her, she wouldn't be able to understand it. She was officially senile. Sick and senile. Kami, when did she turn into an old woman?

She shook her head just a little, her frayed purple hair flopping in her face. Breathing was a difficult thing to do, Amaya decided, having her lungs congested and whatnot. Everything came in very slowly, swelling up her chest in an almost painful fashion.

A glass and a plastic-wrapped ginger cookie were presented to her, hardly seen passed her purple dusted purple eyes. She could hardly see. Nevertheless, an entirely too thin arm of hers snaked out and weakly pat at the alien arm, fingers fumbling in her quest to grip the appendage. Oh, how she failed in this...

"Rage-kun..." she cooed raspily, hoping that who she was grabbing at was the said tall boy. Well, he was the only one in the house - er, apartment - that knew she liked ginger cookies and that all she ever drank was either water or carbonated and flavored water. After all, he did witness her sugar binge at the store a few weeks ago. "Rage-kun..." she squeaked airily, weakly tugging his sleeve in her efforts to grab onto him.

She was almost completely sure the boy offering her a cookie and water was Rage. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't. It all depends on if he spoke or not. 

Her chest was starting to hurt more... And her head was pounding. Water. That wonderful holy confection... Rage could help.

She tugged on his sleeve.

Gracie

[/=v=\ I'll die from the cuteness. Well, it's bad that she can barely see and she's in pain. Yes. But...d'awwwww >w<]

Vell disregarded the boney tween flopping down on his calves and turned his head to the side so he wouldn't be muffled by the pillow. "At this point ANYTHING'S better than stale rice and raw fish that's been frozen. And this is ME complaining. About FISH," he stressed.

"Well it's already here so quit complaining and eat it," Kakashi said with a tired sigh.

"Not hungry. Tired," Vell huffed, face back in the pillow. He wriggled his legs moodily. "And get this skinny thing off of me - it's cutting off the circulation in my legs and tail," he groaned into the pillow.

Kakashi rolled his eye up to the ceiling. "Two teenagers under the same roof. Kami kill me now," he said, turning back into the kitchen.

"He's not that merciful," Vell called after him childishly.

Rage knelt in front of the chair and set the package down, pulling Amaya's grasping little hands away. Gently. Always gently. He put the glass to her lips and tipped it back little by little to help her drink. When she'd had enough, he set that down and started unwrapping the ginger cookie.

"She's really still in that condition?" Scythe asked, concerned.

"You've been out too much, senpai," Awaji commented absently, absorbed in the TV.

The black haired teen broke a small portion of the cookie off and set it in Amaya's hand. Trembling hand; cold, too. He gave the afghan she had around her shoulders a disdainful look and rose, heading for the closet to get a thicker blanket.

Scythe smiled to lighten the mood. "You'd make one hell of a nurse, Rage-kun," he joked.

"..." Rage shrugged at him and tucked a comforter around the purple haired girl. He broke off another bit of cookie for her, ruffled her hair (as became custom during these duties of his), and settled back onto the floor beside her chair, waiting for the cycle to begin again.

"He's at her beck and call," Awaji explained to Scythe, who'd been watching incredulously. "Rage-senpai's really good at taking care of sick people."

"Taking care of people in general, I think," Scythe chuckled. Then his grin got sly. "And what was with her going 'Rage-kun' all soft like that? Seems like you don't freeze up about her calling you that anymore."

Rage deliberately ignored the brown haired man. Scythe was never mean or cutting - ever. All his teasing was in good nature. Still, Rage couldn't help but feel uncomfortable, even if that were true. And he didn't freeze up about her calling his name because he'd heard it so often in the past two weeks. Rage blew a soft sigh and drew his attention listlessly to the TV, where an obnoxious game show was going on.