JJBA One-Shots

Glitter In The Air

Pairing: Josuke Higashkata x Rohan Kishibe

Summary:  Josuke has always felt an emptiness within him ever since he was a child. Growing up he was lonely, only having his mother and grandfather. As he got older, the thought of having a family of his own seemed like the perfect solution. It's been at the back of his head for a long time and Josuke knows, when the time comes, he will be gifted with what he longed for the most.

But Rohan has been ill for far too long.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rohan's stomach turned for the twelfth time that morning. He moaned out in pain, doubling over as both his hands gripped the white porcelain. Another dry heave racked his body, and a few unintentional tears dropped out of his tired green eyes. One more gag; an attempt to finally release whatever is causing him this much discomfort. Nothing came out, and he slumped back in defeat.

God, he hates being sick.

Or at least, he hopes he's sick.

He wasn't even that worried until a few days ago. It started as mild stomach cramping, which Rohan shrugged off (like any sane person would). Well, mild stomach cramping eventually turned into a horrible aching sensation and constant waves of nausea. To make things worse, he's been feeling ten times more tired than usual, and his back is absolutely killing him.

He recognizes all these signs. After all, he did practice in the medical field before graduating. Clearly, there was only one answer.

Appendicitis, of course.

It's unfortunate. An amazing artist like himself should not be suffering due to such a ridiculous medical cause. He curses his appendix, for not being as perfect as the rest of him. So perhaps it's a good thing it'll be removed, he thinks. Keeping such a useless pouch on his colon would be ridiculous. He knows an appendix serves no purpose.

Regardless of all that, though, it still hurts like a bitch. Not to mention how uncomfortable it is. Aside from the constant vomiting and horrible back pain, he can't seem to shake away the terrible pounding in his head. The throb in his feat caused him to cancel his weekly pedicure, which he is not happy about.

The final straw, for Rohan, was when he had to switch his tight-fitted jeans in for sweatpants.

He is The Great Rohan Kishibe, and he will not be wearing sweatpants any longer. The only reason he had to was because of the swell of his tummy. Although they still fit fine, the pressure beside his belly button area was borderline painful.

So, in an attempt to salvage what little dignity he still had for the day, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, flushes the toilet, and pulls himself up. He tries to distract himself by counting the bubbles that fly away from his sudsy hands, but a glimpse of his reflection makes him shudder.

He's pale. Paler than usual. The dark bags underneath his dull green eyes did him no justice, and his cheeks are hollowed out from pouring out all of his stomach's contents over the week. It's terrible, he knows, but he refuses to seek help.

Rohan dries his hands quickly, before shuffling his way back down to his living room. Despite his heater being on full blast, he shivers and brings his thin arms up to wrap around his frail frame. The smell of leftover miso soup hits his nose and Rohan feels another wave of nausea. He's stubborn though, so he forces bile back down his throat, ignoring the bitter burn, and plops himself onto the couch with a sigh.

It's so early that there's barely any sunlight out. A few birds are chirping and he can hear a large dog being walked on his front yard. Usually, that would piss him off, and he'd go out and demand for the dog and owner to vanish from his property, but he simply didn't have the energy. So, he ignored it.