one_long_mission | Real shinobi aren't sick, damnit!

Entry tags:

Real shinobi aren't sick, damnit!

This was exactly what went through Madara's head when he felt the fever threatening him. There was only so much he could do to push it back with willpower. He had better things to do than stay in bed!

He'd tried to find something to help against sucha thing, but really, all he remembered from similar situations were.... yeah, well, his mother pampering him, but that was really stupidly rare an occurence! He figured sick children makes everyone stupidly wibbly, and it's worse in mothers. He was grateful for being taken good care of, but... well.. he was on his own now.

Even though his usual clothes his most of his skin, the rashes were vivid, ugly.... and he tried to keep himself from looking in a mirror, or at his hands.
Unable to even bother himself to try and cook one of the simple things he could cook, he settled on drinking some juice while hoping this would just pass.
Except just as he thought that, the fever only seemed to get worse...

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

When he'd realized that people in the village were getting sick, he'd gone out of his way to ask about the illness, then decided to check in on his ward, tapping on the door before pushing the door open. "Are you home Madara-kun?"

He gave a light groan at the noise, not quite used to visitors, but then.. only one person could visit, and sure enough-- yes, the voice was that of his benefactor.

...okay fine, his sort of adoptive father.
"M'here." he looked over, trying to hide the fact his head was pounding, sipping at some juice.

Edited 2013-04-30 01:32 (UTC)

He slipped into the building, leaving his shoes by the door and tracking the boy down, only to pause when he got a look at him. "So you caught it."

Okay fine, he could hide the fact he had a headache, but not those rashes. "Yea, and you're gonna catch that too, so as good as your intentions are, shouldn't you be stayin away?" he put his glass to his forehead, hoping the cold liquid within it could do some good. "...I mean, can't have a sick Hokage'n all, right? Nevermind a sick Hokage, sick shinobi period! If this was a battlefield, no one'd charge at you, then go 'oh you are sick today? Here, let me hit you a little less violently', you know?"

"I don't intend to get ill. It's transmitted through contact with someone who has it's fluids. Don't sneeze on me and we should be fine... in any case it's unlikely I'll stay healthy, it's supposed to last for days."

"..." he turned away, muttering. "I,m not gonna sneeze on you, but with all the people you're seeing daily and all, you're at a hella risk, you know." yes, that's him trying to hide he's worries about his.. well.. adoptive father figure type person.

"I know, but there isn't much to be done about that. I will, however, take care to wear a face mask, if that settles your mind?"

"Sounds like the only option." he murmured before sipping at some more juice and hoping it would do any good.

"Then I shall take care to do so." He inclined his head with a quirk of his lips.

"you look like you're havin a lot of fun with this." he glared, but found out even that brought more of this damnable headache, so quickly gave up and scowled at his juice instead. "Tch... I wouldn't be having this problem on a battlefield."
No, he would be having worse issues, but at least he could tear through bodies and pretend it's only the screams of the dying echoing in his head making him like this. After all, adrenalin always has kept much at bay...

"It is less that I'm having fun with it as the fact that I find myself happy that even when unwell you have concern for my welfare." He studied the child for a long moment, then nodded once, coming to a decision within himself. "Are you at all hungry?"

Busted! Look at him sulk and pretend he wasn't concerned at all, because... er... he really should not be demonstrative! Something about this not sounding like how tough he wants to sound, yea?

At the query, he gavea sigh and found himself slumping bonelessly into his chair even if he was trying not to. "...all I know is m'head hurts..." he wasn't even able to tell if he was hungry at all.

"I'll return shortly." He gave the boy a smile, then slipped out the door, taking the time to gather some leftover soup from the night before and rice he'd made for breakfast, as well as getting a thin scarf to wrap around his face and a pair of gloves before returning.

That should make the boy feel better, and this time he headed right for where he'd left the child, setting the items in his hands down and resting his hand gently on the boy's hair. "I felt it best to immediately cede to your concerns."

While Itachi had been gone, the boy had rested his head upon the table, but any rest still ran away from him If this had been anyone else, he would have said they looked lame with that... but.. he wasn't going to say such a thing to that Hokage. After all, he was the one helping him, when he could be doing more important things he had to do around the village.
He did look up as that gloved hand settled into his hair, vaguely reminded of how easier life was here.

He did succeed in finishing about half of the soup before switching to the rice, which he was unable to eat much of at all, seeming to think all that chewing was fairly troublesome, although because it was Itachi that made the effort of bringing it, he was trying to eat all of what he could.

Edited 2013-05-01 21:50 (UTC)

"You can save the rest for later Madara-kun." His tone was gentle, and he ran his fingers in a light pass through his hair before moving to put the soup away. "Have you tried taking a bath to clean the sores?"

He gave a light sigh and, despite his will, leaned slightly into the touch, eyes halfway closed as he followed his benefactor/adoptive father's movements. "..hn... haven't yet... I'll do that later, cause with what you told me, youMd catch it just touching that bath water after I soaked, or the towel..." and he really wouldn't like to be the one that got him sick.

"There's a reason I put on gloves." It was a murmur, and he put the food away, coming back to resume stroking the boy's hair. He was a strong boy, doubtlessly, but his youth was showing. "I want to help, even if I won't be here constantly."

He shifted slightly, then shuddered, willpower the only thing that kept him from scratching at his arm, because it had decided to flare up. "...cleaning those might... be an idea." he agreed. "What the hell do they call this?" he hissed. "It's started burning and it won't stop!" and if he wasn't scratching, he indeed was only doing it because he had been told not to.

"It's called Flame Fever." He gently tugged the boy's chair back. "I'll go run you a bath." There was another touch to his hair, then Itachi padded off to go do that for him.

Why? Just why... was that tiny gesture, that minuscule touch something so comforting? He was getting soft. He had to be! No one ever would touch him prior to that without him raging or snapping.

"...Flame Fever... stupidly apropriate..." he muttered to the empty room, pillowing his pounding head into his arms. "...wonder if there's a fire jutsu that can make people feel like this..." he grumbled.

It was a few minutes before he came back, and he ran his fingers across the child's shoulders. "Bath's ready. Come."

No, really.. if he was on a battlefield, no one would be going easy on him beacuse his head is feeling like it'd explode -and- his body is on fire.
...no wait if he was on a battlefield it would mean he wouldn,t be here and he would not have this Flame Fever thing!

Still, this was reality, and at the very least? He did have someone that knew better and was taking care of him. He wasn't sure how loud, or if he said it at all, but 'thank you' might have been up in the air as they reached the room where the tub awaited.

Once he had removed the haori and pants he always wore, one could clearly see the ravages these rashes had done to him, and his figers actually curled up, but he resisted the urge to scratch at these things. He climbed into the bath and was unable to help the long sigh of relief that was torn from him. The soak did feel good. Exponentially better than he would ahve thought.

He gathered the clothes to stick in the wash, trailing after the boy and taking in the extent of the damage with a discerning eye. No good. Still, he just dumped off the dirty cloth and moved to carefully pick out something that was softer than what the boy had been wearing, setting it by the tub to the side where he didn't put the towel, and set about looking for the soothing cream he knew was amid the things he'd initially bought the child. That got set next to the clothes.

He tried the soap, because really, it could only help, and after a good wash and some lounging because water did feel good, he let the water drain and dried himself before applying the cream he had spotted, feeling better by a vast margin, although the headache still stuck. He got clothed and brought the towel and bath mat to the wash as well.

"That... did a lot of good." he admitted. His eyes did have more of a light in them too.

"I'm glad. You should perhaps rest, so that you get better faster?" He inclined his head toward the bedroom.

"..hm.. yeah... I don,t feel any hungry, and that bath... felt too nice." he murmured. "You don't... have to stay here. I'll probably feel better after sleeping, so... " he gave a slow blink. "...thanks."

He once again brushed his fingers through his hair, then nodded once. "I'll be by to check on you again this evening."

Then he stepped back and turned to go.

For his part, the boy murmured a goodbye and went into his room, to sleep.... and so he would remain even once the Hokage came back.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Real shinobi aren't sick, damnit!

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject