Knocking on the door again, but already knowing the answer. 

"Mm. No. I can't come out yet," Yuki sighed from inside the bathroom. "I think it's a stomach bug. Hopefully a twenty-four hour thing. I don't want to accidentally give it to you." Then smaller, to himself, but I heard it anyway. "...What should I do..."

I wanted his stomach to feel better. But, it wasn't advisable to use any kind of medicine to stop it if it really was a stomach bug, or even food poisoning. You want that sort of thing to come out. The more comes out, the less poison there is in the body. 

Still, was there a way to make it come out easier? A way to make his stomach stop hurting, to stop his suffering. He'd been in there all morning and for some of the afternoon. He'd lost valuable sleep. I'd woken up, and he was nowhere to be found. When I'd discovered him behind that locked door, he'd been miserable. He said he was sorry, but he couldn't come out. I'd gone to the convenience store next door to our apartment building to use the restroom, even. I didn't mind, though. Whatever he needed, that was okay. 

He needed fluids, too. If he was that ill... He must be losing a lot of fluid. I wanted him to at least drink water. Was there a way to replace that fluid without drinking water, if he felt too ill to do it? Was lack of water making him feel more sick?

At what point do you call an ambulance? Or was I over reacting? I had to think logically. His body was always strong. What can take down such a strong person? Was he taking this well? 

The agony was that I couldn't see him. Nobody wants to be seen when they're on the toilet, of course. But, his face. Was he pale? Were his nails devoid of color? Was he too tired? 

What was it that I could do to help him? I wanted to at least bring him a blanket, but I could see the complications with this. He might be cold, though. Maybe a sweater? Or did he have a fever?

Now, a fever has a good remedy. I'd bring him some ice and put it on his forehead, under his neck, on his wrists. All the places that become too hot. A fever needs food, too. A good okayu. My grandmother used to make it for my siblings and I when we were sick. We'd stay over at her house in the summer, and of course at least one of us would get sick during that time. We'd baby the sibling, which they always hated, and our grandmother would make okayu. She couldn't give it to just one of us, because we'd get jealous. So, we all ate okayu when one of us was sick. 

Okayu. It was rice, after all. Rice is sticky and binds well. He was losing fluid, and okayu has a lot of water. It's easy to eat.

Slowly, I moved from the bathroom door and went to the kitchen. Immediately, there was a complication. 

"Oh," I said, passing by our two cats who were cuddled in the sink together. "Sorry, you will have to move." I wouldn't move them yet, though. I'd prepare the ingredients first. 

I'd seen my grandmother make this in an earthenware pot, but we didn't have one. So, a regular metal pot would do. Was I supposed to make the rice in the rice cooker first? She never did. She prepared it herself, and it tasted unlike any other rice that way. Sometimes, the rice cooker made the rice too wet. But, wet was good in this case. 

I scooped some rice into the cooker and went to move the cats. They shooed away easily, wandering off to go somewhere else. I was on a mission, though, not paying attention to where they went. Yuki often used a certain plastic measuring cup for the rice and water for the cooker, but I couldn't find it. If all else failed, he'd use his finger. If the water in the cooker came up to his first finger joint, just above his nail, then it was the perfect amount. It always came out splendidly that way. So, I filled a regular cup with water. 

The first time, it wasn't enough. So, I went back for more. I went back three times. The third time made me stare into the cooker critically. 

"Oops," I said to the cats, who weren't paying attention to me. "That's too much water. But, he needs water, so it's okay."

I went off to do some work as the cooker was on. It went on for a while. 

When it dinged, I went back to it. But, when I opened it, I stared at it even more critically. The rice was definitely still too wet, but it was cooked. It was unusually soft, but that's what I wanted anyway. I counted it as a success. The water was so cloudy, though. Was that normal? 

Quietly, I scooped it into the metal pot I'd found. I remembered my grandmother scooping rice into her earthenware pot for this step, then smothering it in more water. It would cook for a long time, until the desired consistency. 

But, how high heat did she cook it for? I never paid attention. 

After a while of thinking, I set the pot onto the stove. It was full of water, and it would boil down and make the rice more wet, but not like a soup. This could take an hour or more. During that cooking time in my childhood, the sick one of us would nap and the rest of us would fight or watch TV. Sometimes, we'd play outside.

With these happy memories, I turned on the stove and then went off to do some more work. I was creating graphics for a special sake we'd just gotten in. It was expensive, so I hoped putting the graphic on a stand on the bar would encourage people to order it. 

After about ten minutes though, I heard a very odd sound. 

Sssssssssss!

Like a weird, huge snake in our apartment! 

I shot up from the couch, startling Flowercoat who was on our cat tree next to the balcony. Running to the kitchen. It could only be one thing! 

I gasped so loud, my hands going over my mouth. Rushing to the stove to turn it off. Devastated, because the boiling water had overflowed dramatically. Hot water was all over everything, there was no possibility of cleaning it up immediately. What if the cats came in here? That thought made my heart want to stop in my chest. I'd have to protect the stove at all costs. 

Ah, but after a while things seemed fine again. I tested the water on the stove, and it was cool enough. I was able to clean it up with a dish cloth,  tossing it in the sink safely. Now, for round two. The heat had definitely been up too high that time. I clicked the burner on, this time the flame much smaller. 

Satisfied, I went back to my work. Hoping this time for success. When Yuki came out of the bathroom, I'd baby him just like my siblings and I had been babied. He might protest, but I would do this for him, because he'd feel loved. I'd lay his head on my lap in bed after he ate this precious okayu, and he could sleep like that. I'd be there the whole time, looking after him. Protecting him, so that he really was okay. 

After a while, there was a soft click of a lock opening. Then, a door swinging. Footsteps on creaking wood. Immediately, my fingers pressed the top of my laptop down. He found me in the living room, looking sheepish. He did look pale. I'd been right to make him okayu. 

It had been a while. Now was the time. It had to be ready by now. 

I grinned to him. "Sit down, okay?" I asked, getting up myself. Gesturing to the couch for him. "Relax."

His head tilted in wonder. "What was that weird, loud sound earlier?" he asked. He slowly came over to me, obviously spent from his exhausting day. "It sounded like one of the cats getting very angry. Did Lupin bite Flowercoat again?"

I just giggled. Too excited for what I'd done for him. "No, it wasn't the cats."

"Oh. What was it, then? It was scary." He sat down gently, and then sighed deeply. 

"Do you have a fever?" Changing the subject. The back of my hand went to his forehead, then floated down to the underside of his jaw. It felt clammy, but not overly hot. 

"Mm. I don't think so. My stomach is still unsettled. I couldn't stay in there any longer, though. Um. Don't go in there for a little while, okay? I don't want you to get what I have. Oh, and please wash your hand. You touched my face."

His concern for me was overwhelming. He was the one who was sick. It just made my grin even bigger. "I'll be okay. Do you want a blanket?"

He nodded, more innocent looking than usual. It just made me want to baby him more. I'd take care of him, for sure. 

"Okay, I'll get you one."

"Thank you." Said so small. Was he ashamed?

I shook my head. Without another word, I left him and went to the hall closet, retrieving a blanket for him. I returned, and he was laid down. He was more exhausted than he let on. It was my pleasure to tuck him in. He smiled at this, his eyes closed. I brushed his bangs back with my fingers, and his smile only increased. He loved being touched like this right now. 

"I'll be right back," I said, going towards the doorway.

"Where are you going?" Almost worried. He didn't want me to go. Conflicted. 

Hmm. "Nowhere," I decided. Coming back. The rice had been really wet, anyway. Overly wet. It could cook longer. Surely it was still wet. 

"Mmm..." his still worried voice. He wanted me so much. I had to give in. 

Sweetly, I arranged his head on my lap as I'd wanted to. He just smiled at this again, so pleased with this. It was absolutely perfect. In no time, he was asleep. His face was adorable, and he was finally resting as I'd wanted. I decided to let it happen, and I just laid my head back on the couch, thinking about work now that he was safe. 

In a while, I decided the rice needed to be tended to. So gently, I got up and put his head on a pillow. He didn't wake. He had to have been so exhausted for that to happen. He was usually such a light sleeper. Sneakily, I made my way to the kitchen without so much as a creak under my foot.

Lupin was already there peering up at the stove. He knew there was food cooking. Was it dinner that we could share with him?

"Sorry, not for you," I whispered to him, thinking about Yuki sleeping. With no sound, I lifted the pot lid and so much steam came up. 

Oh, but-

"AHHHHH NOOOO!" The pot lid clattered loudly onto the stove, scaring Lupin and making him go off running. My hands went over my mouth. Pure devastation. 

"WHAT- WHAT-!" Yuki's panicked voice came from the living room. Huge noises of his own, his feet thumping on wood. 

"Ohhh noooo. Yuuuuki." Wanting to cry. He came up behind me, and there was a pause. But. Oh, but.

His large hand plopped heavily onto my shoulder. It squeezed lovingly. "What did you do," he chuckled softly. That laugh that I love. "What is that supposed to be?"

"It's supposed to be for you." Pressing my lips into my mouth. "I made it." 

"What, um...is it?"

We both observed the hardened, dry yellow mass with black on the bottom of it together. He leaned over and turned off the stove, which I'd neglected to do. What would I do without him? That thought just made tears come to my eyes. 

"I wanted to make okayu for you. Like my grandmother made." This intimate confession. 

"Ohhh, Tata." Such a sincere sound. He was touched by this. Slowly from behind, his arms went around my waist, and they traveled up to my chest. He pressed himself to me, and he was so warm. His face was against my back, even though he was slightly taller than me. Loving me so purely. It made my heart fill up. A strange peace where I'd wanted to cry before. 

We held each other for a while, as I stared at the menacing mass of hardened rice in the pot. What would I do now, though? What would he eat? He needed to eat something with water in it. 

"You need to eat," I said eventually. "You need to replace the fluid you lost. You didn't eat for a long time. It's almost time for dinner."

He gave a long sigh, but it ended in his laugh. It made something settle down in me. His assuring voice. His arms just became tighter around me, and I found myself relaxing. Was I really that tense? Could he feel it?

"I'll make okayu. I know how to make it. Do you want some rice, too? I can make any kind of rice you want."

It was tempting, but he was sick. He shouldn't be cooking. "You shouldn't cook. You're sick." Sad, to have to remind him of this. 

"Oh, you're right. Good catch. Hmm." He thought for a bit. We were silent for a small while. "Hmm. Let's order in, then. I can see which foods I think I can tolerate. Maybe some soft chicken and rice. Maybe a chicken broth, to soak it all. That would be good. Let's order."

A tiny smile came to my face at this, unexpected. He'd found a solution, always my rock even when he was sick. Quickly, I brought one of his hands to my lips for a kiss, as always. But, as I kissed it-

"Ah! Tata, no!"

I realized my mistake before he'd even finished the sentence. My stomach dropped. My mouth opened. I let out a long, whining noise at my mistake. He just sighed behind me, chuckling. How I loved that chuckle, even in this circumstance. He unwound himself from me, taking my hand with the same one I'd kissed. 

"Come on, let's go to your computer," he sighed, smiling the whole way. "Come on." He started laughing full on as I made the whining noise again. Losing it. "When you get sick from that kiss, I'll make okayu for you. Deal?"

"Deallll," I whined, unable to comprehend the enormity of what I'd done, but still comforted. Imagining the expert okayu he'd make. Looking forward to it, even so.