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flyswhumpcenter · 6 years

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It Happened Again [Fever February Day 17 - Hospital Fever]

FEVER FEBRUARY INDEX

Summary: Chiaki receives a call from not one, but three of her friends, and all for the same reason. A reason so strong, she leaves her livestream viewers hanging without a word, and runs for the local supermarket. Because it all happened again.

Fandom: Danganronpa 2: Goodbye Despair (Non-Desp AU, cameos by characters from DR1 and DRV3) Ship: Hinanami (Hajime/Chiaki)

Word Count: 3K words

Notes: No long time to see in the Hinanami sphere with my usual sickfic business. Can't say this is the best comeback ever, but I hope to do much better next time haha. This was mostly a warm-up. A three-day warm-up, but still, a warm-up.It turns out using my ideas from July 2017 more than half a year after originally having them made this fanfic very stale and with nowhere to fucking go. And I still don't know how to write Chiaki so that's good I guess. Kind of a follow up to a Pixelated Fever oneshot from a while back, "Hajime discovers shiny hunting: the fic". At least, takes place in the same settings and AU conditions.

AO3 version available here.

The hunt was going strong for Chiaki, who was sitting in front of her computer for a surprise livestream. It doesn’t happen often, because she attends college (as she should), and while she couldn’t really launch herself into competitive gaming thanks to it being too fast for her, she still dreamed of making video gaming her source of income in the near future.

Sure, shiny hunting required ungodly patience to most people’s eyes. It was, after all, a long and slow process of trying over and over until you find the perfect gem. Some people said it was useless because it was “just the same but in different colours”: Chiaki loved it because she could do it at her pace. She also happened to think it was a great challenge with a satisfying reward, since she got to keep the fruit of her labour.

So, of course, when her phone rang, she didn’t pick up at first.

The chat got a bit upset over this. It was probably just a friend from college who was calling to get some news of her. At worst, they would leave a voice mail and she would call later. Maybe. She didn’t like phoning people. She preferred talking to them over Discord and Skype. She’d see later, she thought.

“Don’t worry guys… It’s probably just a friend from school…” she told her audience, in an attempt to calm them down.

But the phone kept ringing.

Chiaki wondered if she shouldn’t have muted it, because she didn’t like being disturbed during her livestreams at all! It was meant to be a sweet surprise for her viewers, not some kind of chore to go through because of someone desperate to talk to her when they could wait for later.

Still, she eventually picked her pink cell, if only to look at who’s calling her. The name on the screen couldn’t mistake her: it’s Makoto. It seemed like she had also missed calls from Kazuichi and Kaito. That was weird… Why would the three of them call her at the same time? There must had been a reason for it. She picked up the call.

“Chiaki, finally!” Makoto sighed in relief from the other side of the line, but she could still tell he was very tense. His voice was shaking between every word.

“What’s wrong, Makoto? You sound so stressed…”

“Oh, huh, yeah, that’s why we were trying to call you! It’s about what happened a bit earlier at the shop…”

The supermarket, of course! Makoto, Kazuichi and Kaito all worked there. That made a common point between the three of them. She felt a lump forming in her throat, in anticipation for what was to come.

“Could you come to the supermarket as soon as possible? I’m afraid I won’t be able to explain you everything on the phone, I have stuff to attend to real quick! But please, please come as fast as you can, Chiaki!!”

The urgency in Makoto’s voice made her accept, even if she would had been more reluctant usually. Displaying a cold face, or at least one colder enough to get a mixed reaction from her worried viewers, she waved them goodbye and went offline. Without a word.

Her fingers were shaking. She didn’t have to be told to guess it was about Hajime. Why else would they all call her? It had to be about Hajime. She quickly grabbed her bag, her keys and headed outside as soon as possible, running down the stairs of her building, almost forgetting to lock the door to their flat.

In front of her apartment lot, was a car waiting for her, much to her surprise. In its driver’s seat, Kaito. Chiaki sat the passenger seat quicker than she could have ever expected coming from her, barely looking at him to thank him for the ride, or just to even say hello to him. How unpolite of her, but her anxiety was already growing to high levels.

“You really didn’t take long after Makoto called you, dontcha? It’s weird, cause you’re usually pretty slow!”

The car took off as soon as he stopped speaking, heading straight to the supermarket. And that was where everything fell apart to her eyes.

Chiaki ran straight to Makoto and Kazuichi, who were standing near the glass double-doors of the entrance. They both seemed sad, compared to their usual grins and smiles… This only meant trouble, and what kind of trouble and to what extent, she would soon know. Kaito followed closely behind her, his footsteps loud enough to be heard from far enough in the almost-empty parking.

“Makoto, Kazuichi, I’m here…! Sorry for the missed calls and lateness…!”

She was breathless, but she didn’t mind, as long as she got to know what was wrong and whatever she could do to fix it, as little as the fix would be.

Kazuichi looked at her with an uncharacteristic lack of enthusiasm. At that point, it seemed like even a kiss from Sonia couldn’t make him look happier.

“So,” he told her in a calm voice, “you came, huh… Guess we don’t have much choice but to explain you what’s just happened, right?”

Makoto seemed very embarrassed upon seeing Kazuichi’s eyes laid upon him.

“Hajime… isn’t really here anymore…” is all the lucky boy added, looking down.

That was even worse! What had even happened in there?!

“What do you mean?” she asked, determined to squeeze an answer out of them.

“Yeah, guys,” Kaito arrived into the conversation, “Hajime was there when I left! Where is he?”

“We had to call an ambulance man!” Kazuichi yelled as his reply. “His fever wouldn’t stop rising, we got scared shitless!!”

Chiaki completely froze.

For once, she had an insistent glaze laid on everybody around her. It wasn’t really them she was blaming: of course they’d call an ambulance if their friend and workmate had a potentially lethal fever. No, it was an anger directed at both her, for not preventing this situation to happen when she could have done so in the morning, and at Hajime for being irresponsible again.

He truly hadn’t changed on that point since Hope’s Peak.

“Oh, right!” Makoto reacted. “You can’t know the full story yet, Chiaki! One of us will have to tell you when driving you to the hospital, since at least two of us need to remain here…”

“I’ll drive her myself,” Kaito said as he patted her shoulder. “You guys take care of the mall while I’m away, okay?”

“Copy that, Roger!”

It was with anxiety and an intense worry burning in her blood that Chiaki followed the astronaut-to-be to his car which he had sloppily parked when bringing her there.

Kaito’s story enabled her to put in pictures what had happened at the supermarket while she was hunting for a Reshiram she’d have to put on the side.

While they were ordering shelves, with desert alleys in dire need of restocking, he heard a weird thumping sound. Thinking it was just some product someone hadn’t put in there properly, Kaito went to check out what had caused the noise, as faint as it was.

He was confronted to his workmate and friend collapsed to the ground, face against the cold floor, having seemingly fallen from his stool as he was restocking soulmate-themed cereal boxes.

Growing instantly worried, he ran to Hajime, who fortunately was still breathing. He wasn’t breathing fine, that was for sure, as it was in ragged breaths, but he was alive. Not alive and well, that was for sure, but he was alive. He also didn’t seem to have hurt anything except for his nose and some quick bruises here and there on exposed parts of his skin.

Turning the older boy on his back revealed two things to Kaito: Hajime was paler than if Celestia Ludenberg and his best friend Shuichi had a corpse baby together, and that his cheeks and bridge of nose were redder than Himiko’s hair. He also happened to have dark rings under his eyes. Well, darker-than-usual rings that was. After all, Hajime always looked tired and done with everything ever.

(Chiaki couldn’t really contradict that. Hajime was, frankly, a bad sleeper who really enjoyed waking up early in the morning.)

Of course, Kaito immediately ran to warn Makoto and Kazuichi, who were in near alleys, about Hajime being half-dead on the cold-ass floor. He didn’t even think about checking the latter’s temperature: his face alone, and the heat beneath his fingers, were enough to give away how high the guy’s fever was.

Of course, Kazuichi immediately panicked. Despite the fact he used to be in Hajime’s class and was probably the one of them three to be the most aware and used to the ex-Ultimate Counsellor’s antics. Instead, it was Makoto who got the idea to bring their workmate to the break room, lay him on the sofa there and call for Chiaki and an ambulance.

(Kaito apologized for not remembering the ambulance call at first. Chiaki excused it as stress taking over his memory. After all, she was dead worried for Hajime too.)

And that was when she finally picked up their calls, or rather, their pleas for desperate help as they really didn’t know how to deal with the situation. Dead in their tracks. He didn’t have any idea: even if he was often sick, he wasn’t that insane.

(Chiaki nodded.)

The trip to the hospital had been deadly quiet on her part. Chiaki still couldn’t utter a single word, actually: she was worried beyond her mind, and words just wouldn’t exit her mind. Instead, it was a bit of a turmoil inside of her. The question was: how hadn’t she noticed something would go wrong?

Recalling her day as best as she could, she remembered he had woken up far before she did, leaving the flat before she could be out of bed. She swore she had heard some suspicious sounds here and there, probably tumbling. It was easy to brush it off as Hajime not being very awaken yet. But she should have known better.

She should have known he was an earlier bird than that.

Before she knew it, Chiaki was getting leaded into some corridors and into a hospital room. She knew it wouldn’t be as happy as the time they had all gone to check on Kazuichi who had broken his leg trying to please Sonia again (it had worked, somewhat, at least she had recognized the kind gesture). It would also not be as dark as Kaede telling them about that time Shuichi had almost strangled her in a delirium.

At least, she was certain Hajime didn’t have pneumonia. That was a plus, right? Else, she would have heard it, if Kaede’s descriptions were anything to go by.

In the room, she was left alone to face an occupied bed, door closing softly behind her. “I’ll let you two have some privacy” was the worst sentence ever when she barely knew what was wrong. Timidly, the gamer made her way to the bed, weary eyes fixated on the patient. She wasn’t scared of him: she was scared of what he had, and what he had done. There was always something terrifying, or at least intimidating about what he was capable of doing for the sake of something mundane.

Chiaki grabbed a nearby chair calmly, silently, and put it next to his bed. She sat just as noisily on it, sighing, afraid of studying his current condition from the outside, yet feeling the duty to do so. After all, she was his best friend and girlfriend. One of the things she owed him was to take care of him.

Kaito was right: Hajime looked tired all the time. However, it didn’t mean it couldn’t get worse: the Hajime before her eyes right at this moment was exhausted, if not worse. His dark rings had taken the shape of a dark purple canyon. It would have scared those who didn’t know him in his worst times: having see him overworked before, it didn’t scare her as much as it should have. It still made her worry, just as much even, but it wasn’t scary anymore.

The dark rings were alone on this face, though. While Hajime wasn’t as pale as a “corpse baby”, his skin had still lost a couple tones of colours, making him shades whiter than he usually was. That would be to ignore the important redness on his face: his cheeks were, indeed, tainted in a sickly shade of red.

His ragged breathing was one more indication of how unwell he actually was. How on Earth had he even been able to go to work in this condition? Sweat was rolling down his face, accompanying a pain look even in slumber and the other sickness symptoms he was showing. She could only wait for him to wake up to discuss everything she wanted to discuss.

Chiaki had dozed off without realizing it. She only realized it when she felt a hand shaking her shoulder gently, almost weakly, and stirred her eyes open. She woke up a bit quicker than usual, much to her surprise, before realizing she had napped in a room she wasn’t familiar with. Moments after that, she remembered where she was and why so: she was at the hospital, because Hajime had collapsed at work. Well, the collapse part was a hypothesis, but it had to be that, right?

The hand, in fact, belonged to him. He was half-sitting half-lying, a small smile on his face, and that despite his half-closed eyes and shabby breathing. He looked so weak… It was always weird to see him so vulnerable, far from his usual physical strength and both comforting and almost intimidating aura.

“Good morning, Chiaki…”

His smallest smile was driven with kindness even if it was, like everything about him right at this moment, weak.

“You shouldn’t be the one waking me up, Hajime…”

He snickers lightly.

“Why so…? You were asleep, weren’t ya…?”

“Because I’m not the sick one here!”

Hajime got taken aback, well, as aback as he could get when it seemed like his body had given up on him for the most part. Only then, did he weakly smile again, scoffing to himself.

“Heh, you’re right… I actually don’t recognize that place… We’re not in the staff room, right…?”

“Indeed, we’re at the hospital…”

Chiaki couldn’t bring herself not to be angry at him. She was, usually, never angry, except when stuff like that happened. According to her friends, it was anger born from worry, and she couldn’t see any other explanation to her uncharacteristic anger otherwise.

“I pissed you off, didn’t I…? Should have expected it as soon as I left…”

“Why are you doing this?”

He goes completely silent.

“I already explained to you countless times you shouldn’t be doing this for whatever reason you come up with… And so did everybody else… So, why are you doing this?”

The (cold) sweat running down his face was telling her he didn’t know himself. He never knew, in fact. He just kept doing because he considered it was his duty, or his obligations, and that you shouldn’t not accomplish your duty and said obligations.

Instead, his eyes looked at the IV in his wrist.

“Dunno… But I know I always tell you that I dunno… People keep telling me I can’t stop, they’re probably right… Haha…”

“I think that… If I hadn’t woken up so late, I may had been able to stop you…”

“What do you mean…?”

“You’ve been exhausted for a few days, yet I simply didn’t do anything against it…”

Hajime looked perplexed by her words. Who wouldn’t be? She wasn’t like that, usually, but she thought it was one of these times where she could express these kinds of feelings openly without them feeling too much out of place. It had happened before, in high school and afterwards.

“You’ll never stop if we don’t prevent you from throwing yourself in a fire… But I feel like I’ve already told you so. Multiple times, even, I think. I don’t feel like words serve a use anymore…”

“Guess I really am a stubborn guy, huh… Sorry for all the worries and fuss I caused, I’m sure the guys are gonna scream at me again later…”

“Why did you come to work sick, exactly?”

“Well… Today was supposed to be a busy day, at least this afternoon, so we were asked to come here to restock… And you know we need the money to buy you a new setup for your streams…”

Shot through the heart.

“Oh, Hajime… Don’t tell me you went to work sick because I want to replace my microphone and camera…”

He smiled.

“What if I did…? We need all the extra money we can get, especially since we’re still both in college and whatnot…”

“Yes, but not at the cost of your health!”

“Yeah, you’re right… Health’s expensive too…”

His deadpanned look and his illogical statements just screamed to her his brain was severely fevered.

“This isn’t what I meant… You need to take better care of yourself, Hajime. I know you’ve made some efforts for it in the past, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have a long way to go… You should know by now overworking doesn’t bring you anything but pain and fevers…”

“But…”

“Don’t use the money argument, please… Not again… Life doesn’t work that way, Hajime…”

His smile faded.

“Yeah, I know that… You may be right when you say I need someone to stop me from doing stupid shit…”

Chiaki put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“So, let yourself some rest and care, okay? We’re all going to make sure you get the self-care you need…”

He laid back in bed.

“Yeah, let’s do that once I’ve actually slept…”

#sickfic #danganronpa #dr2 #hinanami #hajime hinata #chiaki nanami #makoto naegi #kaito momota #kazuichi soda #fever #overwork #whump #fluff #a bit angsty #otp: i need to thank you

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din-skywalker · 7 years

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The Long Walk Home

So this is my entry thing for @therealjacksepticeye ‘s septicart thing. I know it’s probably only for drawing and fanart, but it’s called septicart. Writing is an art. So I wrote this because I can write and not draw. This is based off of a scene from the book “IT” by Stephen King. I of course had to write it to be about Jack and Anti in present times, but I think this is one of my best writing pieces! Anyway, here we go:

As Jack trudges through the thick blanket of snow covering the ground around him, he pulls at the strings of his hood, trying to better shield his face from the buffeting cold and snow filled winds. He mutters to himself silently, his warm breaths of air making small, white clouds form in front of his face. He had been out at the library earlier that day, researching things the old fashioned way when after he’d gotten that nostalgic feeling to use an encyclopedia again. He had rode there in a taxi but quickly lost track of time while inside the walls of the library, forgetting to charge his phone and keep an eye on the passage of daylight. By the time he was finished reading about whales he had realized that the sun was beginning to set and his phone was dead. He would have stayed to charge, but the library was closing and he had to leave.

So, here he is now, the thick jacket he brought hardly doing anything to keep him warm with the gushes of wind hitting him from all angles. Luckily, his house isn’t too far away from the library. It’s only a mile. He’d just wanted a taxi ride this morning because why walk when you can get a ride? Now he’s wishing he had another ride.

As he nears the bridge that arches over the large river which runs through his town his eyes begin to water because of the harsh winds. He blinks rapidly to try and clear his vision, blowing at a stray strand of green hair as it falls into his face. He doesn’t want to remove his hands from his pockets because they’ll freeze if he does and he’s just now gotten them warm in his pockets. He steps onto the bridge and partly remembers that this is the halfway mark between the library and his house. That thought improves his stride and lifts his spirits slightly.

A putrid smell hits his nose as he reaches the middle of the bridge. The smell is so terrible he has to stop as his nostrils burn and the scent travels down his throat, making him want to throw up so badly he leans on the railing of the bridge for a moment. He coughs a little, the horrid smell of rotting flesh surrounding him. He shakes his head to try and clear his nostrils of the horrid scent but it remains. He lifts his head, swallowing heavily against the bile rising in his throat to glance around, searching for the source of the smell. He vaguely thinks that any person with half a brain would already be gone, the smell warning anyone of some kind of danger. But Jack felt drawn to stay oddly enough. In the back of his mind he knew he should leave, but.. he felt like he had to see what was causing the stench.

He angles his head backwards, squinting his eyes to better see through the screen of rushing snow as he glances out over the railing onto the frozen water. His eyes widen at the sight.

There, standing on what should be too thin of ice, was the figure of a man slowly moving towards the bridge. Jack clears his throat and straightens up, keeping one hand wrapped so tightly around the freezing railing that his knuckles began to change to white, heart thumping loudly in his ears.

Hey there, Jackie, the voice was in his ears, in his head, everywhere and he could hear nothing but the scratchy tone that sounded so similar to a hissing snake. It had the lilt of an Irish accent, similar to Jack’s, which was slightly strange because he’s in Brighton, not Ireland. It’s a bit cold out for a walk, dontcha think?

Well, yeah, of course it’s way too damn cold, he already knew that. He slowly blinks and swallows heavily, taking a small step backwards as the figure draws nearer. He hadn’t been expecting the face of the man to look just like his.

The man looks just like him. Has the same face, the same green, dyed hair, same structure and the same kind of clothing Jack wears during the summer. The only difference would be that the man appears to be a few inches taller… and the fact his eyes are glowing a vibrant green, head tilted back with a twisted grin splitting his face. And as Jack notices how he has on only a thin, black t shirt with black and ripped jeans, he wonders how the hell this strange man isn’t freezing currently.

And, for some reason, Jack can’t look away from those glowing green eyes.

Do you wanna warm up, Jackie? It continues to speak and Jack knows it’s an it because this man could not really be a man. Now as his vision further adjusts to the darkness of this winter night he can see how the pale skin on the look alike is cracking, peeling in the violent winds. Bits of its skin is slowly ripped from its body, mixing with the snow as it blows away. Jack then takes notice of the green balloon that is being held tightly in its hand, blowing towards him… against the wind. How the hell is that possible? It should be buffeted backwards, not forwards. Here, do you want a balloon? See how it floats?

Jack knows he should flee. But he feels suddenly paralyzed and he cannot move away, only able to meet the peering gaze of whatever it is. It is stepping ever closer, raising the balloon in an offering fashion as it grins up at him, sharp and pointed fangs shining with a layer of saliva. Jack nearly screams as more of the skin peels away from its chest and a wave of spiders crawls from its flesh, spreading outwards and across its body. And even with one of his worst fears pouring from the creature’s chest he still can’t move, only able to watch as more and more of the small and black monsters cover its body, taking on the appearance of the black t shirt with how many of them there are.

You’ll float, too, Jackie, the creature whispers in his brain and he had forgotten about the other, larger monster because of the spiders. He let’s out a surprised gasp as the green balloon is now directly in front of his face. He falls onto his ass, eyes widening as a crumbled and cracked hand lands on the edge of the bridge between his legs, sharp nails digging into the stone surface. He screams as some of the spiders crawl from the hand onto his legs, each one being around the size of his hand. Their long and spindly legs arch as they climb towards his knees, their eyes seeming to glow a bright red. Their pincer like mouths open and close repeatedly, snapping out from their long and hairy faces and he screams again, batting at his legs, kicking at the slick and snowy ground. A few of the large spiders manage to stay clinging on as he scampers to his feet, slapping crazily at them, forgetting about the much larger threat pulling itself over the side of the bridge, the grin wider, reaching from ear tip to ear tip as it watches the scene unfolding.

Only when the final spider is knocked from his leg does Jack remember the horrid smelling lookalike that is now standing directly behind him, green balloon somehow floating directly beside his face. He slowly turns, breath catching in his throat as he’s met with the green gaze of the monster directly above him, eyes shining dangerously as a hand slowly begins to raise. He’s once more paralyzed as the spider covered hand reaches out for his shoulder, hardly able to even breathe as those piercing greens peer into his very soul, pinning him there. That’s when the large, bug like leg extends from the creature’s back, landing on the ground near his feet. This leg is soon followed by three more and a huge, armoured face emerges from behind the monster’s head, two, green glowing eyes landing on him.

He knew then that if he did not move, if he did not run, he would be devoured by one of these terrifying monsters. Unless they were the same thing, merely working together. But that thought did not come to mind as Jack slapped the spider covered hand away from him with a low growl, feet slamming the ground with soft thuds as he begins to sprint away, eliciting an unearthly roar from one of the two creatures.

Jack stumbles as he runs from the bridge, right foot hitting a patch of ice that nearly causes him to slip, to fall. But he catches himself, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he steps into the blanket of snow, making him run faster than he had ever thought possible. Clouds of his quick breathing continuously hits him in the face, making it even more difficult to see where it is he’s going. His legs only seem to move even faster when hears footsteps behind him, making the snow crunch loudly and he is too terrified to look over his shoulder. He loses sight of where it is he is running, everything turning to a blur as he just runs.

He only stops when he trips, falling to his knees, hands falling into the snow as the white stuff bites at his skin. That’s when a shadow falls over him, masking his view of any light. He slowly peers over his shoulder, heart stopping at the sight of the man towering over him, those spider like legs sticking from his back still, the head continuing to raise as the legs shift, pushing away from the creature.

You’ll float too, Jackie, the voice growls now and that’s the only thing he can hear, even over his own heartbeat, over the howling of the wind, over the hissing and choppy squeals of the gigantic spider. Come join the clown and you’ll float too…

The last sign that Jack had been walking home was the sound of his pained scream, echoing through the windy and dark night like a ghost.

____

I hope y’all enjoyed!

And Jack, if you read this, know that you helped me start writing again. It had always been my dream to become an author since I was younger but at one point I had lost my spark. You inspired me to write again. It maybe fanfiction, but fanfiction writing is better than no writing. So thank you for helping me to find my passion again.

#septicart #jacksepticeye #antisepticeye #writing

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