Welcome to the World of Beyblade!

Recovery process

Wakiya's ill and life sucks.

(Just know that when I started this, it was well past 2am and I was dying from a horrible cold and thus this monstrosity was born. Because when life gives you lemons, you make shitty fanfiction.)

-

"It's not that noticeable, right?" Wakiya asks Hoji for what seems to be the fifteenth time.

Hoji, infinitely patient, simply answers in the same manner he'd done the for the last half hour, shaking his head softly with a small smile on his face.

"Come on, Hoji! Tell me the truth!" Wakiya absolutely despises the nasally tone of his voice.

"I think you already know the truth, young master." Hoji's amused voice does nothing to soothe Wakiya's mood.

"Whatever." He pushes past Hoji into his classroom, but doesn't forget to hold the door open for his companion to follow. "I don't care anyways."

As it turns out, Wakiya does care- far too much. He wants to rip his own vocal cords out when he answers his name in the register, his "Here, sir." sounding disgustingly tinny and ear-splittingly high pitched.

He then wants to rip off the heads off every baffled child who turns around in their seat to gawk at him, apparently oh-so-surprised by the fact that Wakiya Murasaki has caught a common cold.

Wakiya is immensely grateful as the school day progresses that Rantaro doesn't seem to be present. He's sure he'd never hear the end of it.

None of the others say a word about it. Shu silently passes Wakiya his pocket tissues when he sneezes particularly hard during Chemistry, and Valt offers Wakiya his VapoRub during PE (why he's got that in his changing bag, Wakiya will never know), and Daigo whips out cough drops from thin air, but other than that, Wakiya's terrible condition remains unspoken about.

The next day is exactly the same; even when Wakiya messes up his launch during practice due to a sudden fit of coughing, nobody says a thing, they just silently rub his back and let him be pathetic by himself.

He'll never say it, but he's thankful. He knows that if any of them were to bring it up, he'd sink through the floor in embarrassment.

He's Wakiya Murasaki. He doesn't get ill, or poorly, or under the weather. He's wonderfully fit and wonderfully healthy.

...This is just an exception.

When he goes home, he ends up training for a few more hours, even though his arms feel as if they're going to drop off and he might be sick straight into the bey stadium. There's no way he's letting himself fall behind because of a small cold.

Rantaro ends up coming to school the next day. And it just so happens that they have maths that day, and of course, with Wakiya's luck, Rantaro is sitting right besides him.

"Woah, dude," he hands Wakiya a tissue from the abyss of his pocket when Wakiya sniffles for the hundredth time. "You do not look good."

"I'm just allergic to you." Wakiya spits at him, but it's lacking his usual bite due to his clogged nose.

"You don't say," Rantaro scoots away slightly from him, and Wakiya's hurt for a millisecond before Rantaro pulls his chair even closer, and hands him another tissue. "I don't ever think I've seen someone's nose run so much."

"Shut up!" Wakiya hisses, snatching the tissue from Rantaro's grip- however, it seems that Rantaro wasn't ready to let go, and the tissue rips in half.

"You're actually so annoying." Wakiya's voice is positively venomous (and nasally) and he lifts up a hand to cover his nose. "Give me another one."

Rantaro makes an incredulous noise, but obliges regardless.

"You don't have your own tissue?"

"Of course I do!" Wakiya snaps. "I had three whole packets and I blew through them all during Biology."

"It's seriously that bad?" Rantaro's voice takes on a more sympathetic edge and Wakiya wants to cringe.

"Shut up! It's not that bad! It's just..." his voice trails off as he thinks of something to fire back, quick. "Hay fever."

He winces internally when he remembers that it's currently February.

"That's the worst lie you've ever told, and I've heard you say some wild things."

"I'm not sick!"

"Okay? I never said you were?"

He's got Wakiya there.

Wakiya falls silent and scowls for the rest of the lesson. He wants to crawl into a ditch and cease to exist when their teacher calls on him for the answer, and he can't answer because he's too busy sneezing into yet another one of Rantaro's tissues.

He ignores Rantaro's concerned looks and shakes off his consoling arm pat, cursing himself for not having Rantaro assassinated whilst he was sleeping to avoid this whole situation.

Wakiya is more than prepared to go home once the day is over, and almost skips to his usual ride when he's stopped by a hand on his wrist.

He nearly punches Rantaro in the face when he flails. "What are you doing?"

"Listen," Rantaro doesn't release his grip. "Make sure you're eating and sleeping properly, okay? No beyblade."

Wakiya ignores the way his heart soars.

"What?" He demands. He shakes his hand slightly but Rantaro doesn't let go. "What are you talking about?"

"You're ill and obviously you aren't taking good care of yourself." He replies, thick eyebrows creasing slightly in that concerned way of his.

"For the last time, I'm not ill."

"You're not fooling me," Rantaro tuts. "I don't care how fragile your ego is."

"Stop it-"

"I'm concerned for you-"

"Seriously, stop!" Wakiya rips his arm away. "Just be quiet!"

"No!" Rantaro yells back, immediately flying off the deep end. "You're being stubborn!"

"What's it to-" Wakiya's protest is cut off by a sudden itching in his throat, and he burns red with embarrassment as he has to turn away and cough into his elbow to avoid spluttering all over Rantaro.

"See what I mean?" Rantaro's voice is gentler now, and he places both hands on Wakiya's shoulders. "I'm being serious. Take care of yourself."

Wakiya's certain his face is burning for another reason, but he finds satisfaction in the way Rantaro is equally as flushed, swishing the lollipop around in his mouth nervously.

"Okay," Wakiya concedes. "I will."

Rantaro smiles. "Good."

When he leans over and places a gentle kiss on Wakiya's (slightly sweaty) forehead, Wakiya can't find it in him to protest.

He finds that he recovers from his sickness quite quickly after that.

-

Can you tell I'm so bad at ending these HAHA sobs