19As before, I don't own Gaim. Age wise, in my mind, Micchi is 14, Kouta is 18, and Takatora is 26. If anyone was curious, the reason Takatora kept switching between Kazuraba and Kouta was directly connected to the amount of worry in his mind at the moment. We'll get into that more in this chapter.
Note: I've taken a few liberties with the Kazuraba siblings' background. I don't remember how old they were when their parents died, so I improvised.
The pain was what woke him. It was an intense burning sensation in his stomach, spreading over his torso and down his arms and legs. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to move, searching for a way to relieve the pain, but a pair of large, gentle hands touched his shoulders.
"You can't do that yet," a voice murmured. "I know it hurts, but you need to stay still."
He knew that voice, that was—
"Takatora?" Kouta groaned, then bit back a moan as the pain in his stomach intensified. A breathy sigh, almost like a laugh, met his ears.
"Yes, it's me. Can you open your eyes?"
It took Kouta three times, but he managed. The room he was lying in was unfamiliar, pale walls and dark furniture. Takatora sat on the left-hand side of the bed, looking drawn and tired.
"Where—" Kouta began, then a coughing fit took over. His stomach muscles protested, adding to the intensity of the coughs. When he became aware of something other than pain, he realized that he was resting against Takatora's shoulder, his arms around his shoulders. A tiny part of his mind was embarrassed that Takatora was practically hugging him, but the rest of him was too tired. After he stopped coughing, Takatora placed him back on the bed and settled the covers over him.
"Ow," Kouta whispered.
"I know it hurts. If I knew where to find painkillers, I'd get some, but the servants always took care of that. I'm sorry I can't help you more." Takatora's voice was low and soothing, which Kouta was grateful for, as his head was hurting too.
"I'm hot," he mumbled.
"You have a fever," came the reply. "I've done what I can, but it's still a little high for my liking."
"Oh," Kouta whispered. "Sorry...don't mean to…be a burden."
"Kouta, it's alright," Takatora replied, voice gentle. "To be honest, I don't mind at all."
"Oh...'kay then."
Silence descended over the room, broken when Takatora replaced the washcloth on Kouta's forehead. Eventually, the older man spoke, and Kouta focused on his voice to distract him from the pain.
"After my eighth birthday, my mother decided that she wanted another child. Father was agreeable, and several months before I turned ten, Mother discovered she was pregnant. Nothing out of the ordinary happened during the pregnancy, but for some reason, she went into labor three weeks early. The doctors tried their best, but they couldn't save the baby." Takatora's voice filled with sadness. "After I found out that Mitsuzane was Ryugen, I looked into the identities of the other people who had Sengoku Drivers. When I read your file...it was hard, because all I could think about was that you were as old as he would have been. A part of me wanted to take away your Driver, to try and protect you as if you were my little brother, but you were steadfastly for protecting anyone and everyone that you could, I didn't have the heart to do it. Even after I tried to crush your spirit, you recovered and came back twice as strong. I admired that unyielding determination. So, as you are, I don't mind. I want to look after you, because someone needs to and I never got the chance to help my little brother, never got the chance to hold him and look after him. It's somewhat foolish, but I see what he could have been in you."
"Oh." Kouta didn't know what to say to that. Fortunately, he had time. A shimmer of light on the right side of the room caught his attention. Turning his head, he saw a woman in a white dress standing by the bed.
"Hello, Efari-san," Takatora said. "How are you?"
"Well, Takatora-san," the woman, Efari replied. "I'm glad to see you awake, young one."
"Who are you?" Kouta asked, not too worried about her because Takatora seemed to know her, but he knew he'd never met her before.
"I am Efari, the Queen of Helheim," she replied. "I was with Takatora when we found you in the warehouse. How are you feeling?"
"Hot," Kouta said, wincing as his wound flared. "Stomach hurts."
"Ah, I see. May I examine your wound?"
Nodding, Kouta pushed down the covers to reveal the bandages over the wound. Spots of blood had appeared on what seemed to be the remains of a sheet.
"He had a coughing fit earlier," Takatora said. "I don't know if that caused any damage or not."
Efari's hands began to glow a white-gold, and she gently touched the bandage. "A slight amount of tearing, nothing major. Now let's see what we can do about that fever." An odd sensation flooded Kouta's skin from where her hands rested, and the pain eased. Kouta sighed in relief, and Efari smiled at him, then returned her attention to her work. After a few minutes, she removed her hands, the glow fading. "Well, how do you feel?"
Kouta blinked. "Better. Not as warm. Thank you, Efari-san."
"You are quite welcome. Let me go get a few things, and then I'll return." She vanished the same way Kouta had seen her appear. Takatora got off the bed, and Kouta reached for him, feeling oddly bereft. Takatora looked at him, and Kouta looked away.
"I'll be back," the older man said, voice reassuring as he squeezed Kouta's hand. "But I need to clean up, and the bandages will need replacing. I'll be quick."
"'kay," Kouta whispered, looking back in time to see Takatora smile. He flashed a small smile in return, and then Takatora left.
"He worries about you." Efari's voice startled Kouta. Hiding his wince as the wound protested his sudden movement, he looked over at the Queen. "He did not leave your side until now," she continued, "not even when you were asleep. He meant what he said earlier."
"Yeah, I figured," Kouta replied, looking up at the ceiling. "I'm just used to looking after myself since nee-chan was always busy."
"Let him help you," Efari told him. "He feels he has failed Mitsuzane in more ways than one and seeks to prove that he is not useless."
"He hasn't failed-" Kouta began, voice rising, then bit back a yelp as his stomach reminded him yet again that he wasn't in the best of shape. A small smile quirked Efari's lips.
"Then perhaps you should tell him that." She vanished again.
Kouta must have dozed off because when he next opened his eyes, Takatora was carefully removing the old bandages. He looked better than he had, and Kouta hoped that he'd gotten something to eat as well.
"How's it looking?" he asked, and Takatora glanced up at him.
"You're awake." He looked back at the wound. "It seems to be healing well, and the redness has gone away." He finished changing the bandages and disposed of the used linens. "Do you need anything?"
Kouta was about to say no, but Efari's advice came back to him, and he hesitated before saying, "Something to drink, maybe. My throat is dry."
"Okay. I'll just be a moment." He walked through a door and into a bathroom, returning with a cup in seconds. He handed the cup to Kouta, making sure that he had a good grip on it before letting go. After Kouta finished, he took the cup and put on the bedside table. Silence descended over the room for a while until Kouta started to talk.
"My parents died when I was little, leaving Akira and me behind. I was going to go in foster care, but Akira fought like crazy to keep me with her. She dropped out of school and started looking for work, anything that would accept a fifteen-year-old. In the beginning, a social worker was sent to our apartment to check up on us and make sure that Akira was managing to look after me well enough. There were nights that she didn't come home until really late, some days when we didn't have quite enough to make ends meet, but she always made sure that I had enough to eat, which was hard considering I was growing and needed lots of food. I tried to help as much as I could. Most of the time, we were either too busy or too tired to do anything together. But she always made sure to hug me before she had to leave and at the end of every day. Mom used to say that hugs made everything better. Later, after we finally got back on our feet, Akira told me that the only reason she kept going was for me because she loved me. A lot of the time, she felt as if she wasn't doing enough, but when I would hug her every night, she felt like she'd accomplished something that day."
"She sounds like a wonderful sister," Takatora murmured.
"She tried her best to be, every day, just like you," Kouta said, and saw Takatora stiffen. "You tried with Micchi; you did the best you could. But it isn't your fault he is the way he is right now."
"It feels like it."
"It's not," Kouta said, forcefully. "You did your very best. That's all anyone could ever ask. Like with Ryouma; you did everything you could." Ignoring the way his stomach muscles were starting to burn, he kept going. "You gave Micchi all of the tools he needed to become a good man, and if he mis-used them, it's his fault, not yours. You haven't failed anyone." He hissed as his abdominal muscles protested their prolonged use, eyes shutting from the pain, and felt a hand rub his upper arm soothingly.
"Okay," Takatora said simply. "Alright."
Sighing, Kouta relaxed again, falling asleep slowly. The lesson might not have fully sunk in yet, but it was a start.
Note: NO, this is not slash. I'll add that to the description. Let me repeat: This is NOT slash. Bromance, quite certainly, but not slash. I don't flow that way.
Two chapters in less than 24 hours. That's a first for me. Let's see if this continues...
10/18/17: Edited spelling inconsistencies and ran through Grammarly.