Hisashi stepped quietly into the dimly lit room, making sure that he wasn't making too much noise that could wake the figure on the bed up. He was in one of the rooms of the apartment suite that GLAY stayed in during their recording in New York City.
It was only seven in the evening. The night was just approaching, the night life was just beginning to start. From the window, he could see the rivers of lamps that were NYC.
He crossed the room and stopped at the bedside, gazing at the figure lying there, deep in his slumber. A little portion of those unruly dark blonde hair fell gently onto the closed eyes, and the rest of it spreaded on the pillow, framing the angelic face, contrasting to the darker colour of the sheet, almost glowing under the soft light of the table lamp.
Hisashi watched in silence as chest rose and fell with every soft breath Jiro was taking. He looked so… peaceful, without worries. Like a child… like a baby… so trusting. Dimly, Hisashi wondered whether he himself slept that peacefully too… he wondered whether there were many people or not who were lucky to be able to have such a peaceful sleep like that.
Or maybe it was just Jiro. Maybe it was because he was Jiro. Maybe Jiro was blessed with that thing afterall.
He reached out a hand to the sleeping figure there, then placing his hand gently on Jiro's forehead. He sighed when he found out that Jiro was still burning. A wave of anxiety swept through him. It had been three days already… didn't Jiro take his medicines?
He should have taken his medicine already. Hisashi knew that Teru always made sure that Jiro took his medicine properly. It had been three days… shouldn't his condition be better by now?
No wonder Teru had sounded so worried. Jiro was like a little brother to him. He could see that Takuro was very worried too.
And he himself?
He was worried too. Damn, eventhough he didn't really show it, he was very worried. When he saw Jiro's pale face, when he heard Jiro had a bad coughing fit, when he caught Jiro off guard grimacing to the pain he felt…
He was worried. And it didn't help when this morning he found out that Jiro barely touched his breakfast. Takuro had practically threatened him to eat or he would shove the food into the bassist mouth.
Hisashi sighed. He wished he could do something to make Jiro feel better.
It was only seven in the evening, but the suite was empty and quiet. Teru and Takuro had a meeting with the producer. It was supposed to be all of them in the meeting, but Jiro was sick, and Hisashi had volunteered to take care of him. Teru had thrown him a small surprised look, but then he smiled in understanding.
He didn't know what had possessed him to volunteer to take care of Jiro, but he did, and he wanted to.
He suddenly remembered the small washbin he had taken along with him. He put the washbin on the bedside table and dipped a small towel into the freezing water in the washbin. He then put the cold towel on Jiro's forehead.
He knew that it might not be much help. That it might not make much difference in Jiro's condition. But he knew it would feel good. He remembered the time when he had still been a little kid, when he had had fever, his mother had always put a cold towel on his forehead. And it had felt nice, really, coldness contacting with his hot, burned up flesh.
He hoped Jiro would feel better too…
He remembered Teru's surprised gaze when he had said that he wanted to take care of Jiro. Why should Teru be surprised? Sure, he was somewhat cold towards the bassist, but that didn't mean that he didn't care.
He cared. A hell lot, in fact. And no matter what other people think that he hated Jiro… he actually never hated Jiro. Sure, at first he had this somewhat serious case of dislikement towards Jiro, which, he supposed, resulted to his cold act towards Jiro, but it had gone as the time went. Jiro now was one of his friends, just like Teru and Takuro were. As for why he often was still cold towards Jiro… he guessed he just have a difficulty in expressing himself more openly towards the bassist.
But it was only on the outside really. Just a cover, just a… mask. Because beneath the layers of coldness and indifference he usually wore, there was always… concern. Care. Attention. Fondness. Towards him, towards all of his friends.
Hisashi felt his gaze softening as he continued to watch his sleeping friend.
He had to admit that these two days, eversince Jiro fell sick, he missed Jiro's liveliness and bounciness. He also missed the cheerful greetings Jiro had for him. Maybe on the front he acted cold, but actually, he enjoyed the attention he got from Jiro.
"Ohayou, Hisashi", "How are you today, Hisashi?", "Hisashi, what's wrong?", "Oi, Hisashi, stop smoking, it does your health bad"… though sometimes those attentions got on his nerves, but now he found himself longing for them.
He took the damp cloth off Jiro's forehead and re-dipped it into the freezing water before putting it again on Jiro's forehead.
He… he wasn't used with a sick Jiro. He felt something on the pit of his stomach. He knew it was silly getting so overly worried over a simple fever, but… when Jiro went completely 180o the opposite from his usual self… he hoped the cheerful, energetic bassist would be back on his feet soon.
Hisashi felt like he wanted to shove Jiro so that he'd be awake. He wanted to scold him to wake up, to remind him that they were now here for job, that tomorrow he was supposed to join them in a small fans gathering, that tomorrow they would have a recording scheduled…
It was silly. Hisashi quickly shoved the thought away. It wasn't as if Jiro wanted to get sick. He remembered someone had said that eating their favourite meals would help to make someone get better soon. He didn't know whether it was true or not but he was willing to try. Tomorrow he would prepare strawberry milk and fried sausages and omelette for breakfast. If his memory served him right, those were ones of Jiro's beloved 'western' breakfasts.
Hisashi glanced at the medicines on the bedside table. Jiro had to take those red tablets again by midnight. Hisashi wouldn't mind waking up by midnight and going here again to make sure that Jiro took his medicines as he should.
Jiro shifted a little in his sleep, and Hisashi grabbed the blanket that had slipped from Jiro's shoulder and pulled it over Jiro's body so that he would still be warm. Jiro moaned a little and Hisashi stiffened, afraid that he had woken him up, but Jiro didn't wake up, still lying there peacefully, deep in his content sleep.
Hisashi could feel a warm smile graced his lips. He stroked Jiro's hair softly, dimly marvelling at its softness.
"I care, Jiro," he whispered fondly. "Odaijini…"
~Owari^^~
Notes : "Odaijini" means "get well soon" ^^~