Archive of Our Own

Minato tucks his face into his elbow, in an effort to muffle his cough. The action felt slightly redundant, he’s already put on a blue mask to ensure he doesn't spread his microorganisms to his social links. He was more compelled to put one on because he promised Bunkichi and Mitsuko; he’d especially hate to get them sick.

Checking the time, it was already evening. He told Mitsuru they’d venture into Tartarus tonight, he still needed to gather supplies for their exploration today.

Minato had only promised to reorganize some books for the couple, yet it was almost sundown and Minato had barely dented the stack of books he was given. Bunkichi and Mitsuko have already long finished their half of the books. The two were seated, enjoying their recently brewed tea; the soft floral scents filled the small store.

They had offered him tea earlier but he politely declined, something he found himself regretting. His throat was parched and his mouth was dry from his unrelenting cough. The thought of a warm tea sounded so enticing, especially right now.

Maybe after he finishes organizing.

His limbs felt as if they were stuck in tar, his movement was slow and tedious. Feeling another cough coming, he attempted to stifle it and swallow it down. It only seemed to worsen it as he violently hacked into his elbow once more.

He blinked slowly as he began to settle down, every limb on his body felt like they weighed a ton. Even just raising his elbow to cover his cough felt like a chore.

Inwardly, he grimaced at the mere idea of going to Tartarus tonight. If he could hardly lift a few books, he doubts he’d be able to use his sword effectively tonight.

He stares harshly at the spine of the book in his hand, squinting to make out which volume it was. His vision keeps blurring too, but it didn't stop him from seeing the occasional concerned glances the old couple kept shooting him.

Weighing his option on skipping a Tartarus run today, he slides a book into place. He couldn't not go into Tartarus today. A full moon was upon them. He had already been slacking this past week, avoiding going into Tartarus in favor of catching up on studying and work. Both left him collapsed on his bed before the Dark Hour even began.

His team was getting restless too, waiting for him to take them to that labyrinth. They all have been more motivated than ever to train and get stronger, the finish line just three more full moons away.

A soft sigh escaped his lips, it caught on the mucus in his throat. He cleared his throat before a barrage of coughs struck him.

Just as he settled down once again, he flinched when a gentle hand was placed on his shoulder. Turning around, he was met with Bunkichi’s warm smile and crinkled eyes. His hand radiated heat, it was comforting.

“Thank you for helping us out today, son, you young people are so helpful!”

Minato shook his head, motioning at the pile of unorganized books, he promised to sort all of them today.

“Dear,” Mitsuko just sighed, a fond sort of smile washed over her face. “It's quite alright, we can most certainly finish the rest on our own.”

Minato turns, wanting to protest, but the sudden movement makes him stumble slightly, his head spins. He stumbles backwards into the bookcase, the case jostles from the impact but nothing falls.

Regaining his balance, Bunkichi closes his hand around Minato’s hand. Another hand gently touches his back, and the two lead him out of the bookstore. The sky is already cloaked in dark tones of purple and pink, dark clouds gathering close to the Port Island Station.

Minato mumbles out an apology to the old couple, they just offer him a warm smile and chatter about getting some rest. They make him promise to head to bed early and get better soon, he’s apparently on a ban from coming here until he is well again. The door shuts behind him and he breathes out a shuddered sigh.

Raking a hand through his hair he stares up at the sky, it’s getting darker out. Rifling through his pocket, he pulls out a crumpled piece of paper. It’s a list of items needed for Tartarus. He skims it over once and shoves it back into his pocket. He moves his headphones over his ears, and starts his way to the Aohige Pharmacy.

The mall plaza is relatively empty today, for whatever reason, there’s a couple of people loitering around with a blank expression. Apathy syndrome seemed to be getting worse, they couldn’t afford missing Tartarus tonight.

He sneezes the moment he opens the door, the store clerk shoots him a look at the sudden noise. His face brightens when he recognizes Minato. He gives Minato a slight downward nod which Minato returns.

Silently, he hands him the long list of items needed. Next to each scrawled out item is the amount requested.

Usually, to prevent a longer visit, Minato lists all the items he’s going to get and allows the clerk to ring it up for him as he collects said items. The store clerk reads it over, he grabs a bag and starts to gather all the items. Minato opens his mouth to inform him that he can walk over and pick off each item himself, but in between that moment of air being inhaled and exhaling to speak something catches in his throat.

Doubling over, he buries his face in the crook of his elbow. His mask is uncomfortably wet, it feels gross. After catching his breath again he looks up. The store clerk has an odd glint in his eyes, and in his hand is a bag of everything he had on the list.

Minato breathes out, digging out his wallet to pay.

He accepts the bag, thanking the clerk.

Walking out, Minato notices the darkened sky. It looked like rain. Minato tried to breathe in the scent around him for any signs of rain, all he got was a strained sniffle. His nose was too stuffed. Minato frowns, he tries to hurry back to the dorms.

Each step he took his head pulsed with pain, his breathing becoming almost labored against his face mask. He suppresses a groan at the state of his body, he’s really looking forward to his pre-Tartarus nap.

-

It rains on him.

His clothes feel heavy, heavier than normal, they stick to his skin uncomfortably. The weight of his headphones bounced against his upper thigh; he’d relinquished his music in order to toss them in his pockets as means of protection from the rainwater. His hair was absolutely drenched, it was a completely different shade of blue. His steps were loud and squeaky, socks uncomfortably wet.

Fumbling with the doorknob, his hand shook as he opened the door to the dorms. The wind blew it wide open as he stepped in noisily, slamming the door shut behind him. He breathed out a haggard sigh followed by a string of coughs.

A puddle of water forms at his feet. Shimmying his shoes off, he hears footsteps approaching him.

“Where have you been?”

Minato jolts, turning to see Akihiko with his hands on his hips. He looks annoyed with Minato’s presence.

Well, he probably wasn’t annoyed, it was probably just the sickness getting to his brain. Logically speaking, Akihiko had no reason to be annoyed with Minato, it wasn’t as if he was back any later than usual.

“Supplies.” Minato thrusts the bag into Akihiko’s hands, walking past him.

“Where are you going now?”

“Shower.”

“Like you need it.” Minato looks over at Shinjiro, standing near the front room’s window. He pulls the curtain close, his eyes boring into Minato’s wet figure. Shinjiro scrunches his nose. “You certainly got showered.”

Yukari shifts in her seat on the couch next to Mitsuru, she speaks in a teasing tone, “What? Did you not think to check the weather forecast before you left the dorm today?”

Minato shrugs his shoulders as Akihiko places the bag of supplies on the counter next to him.

Koromaru jumps, his paws bracing at the walls of the counter and sniffing the bag. Aigis walks up behind him, her eyes analyzing Minato’s wet, slouching figure.

“Your body temperature is below the ideal average human body temperature.” She reports rather loudly.

“Shower.” Minato feels the need to expand and add more details to his original statement. “Warm shower.”

“Hurry before you catch a cold,” Mitsuru remarks, “Are you still planning on going to Tartarus tonight?”

Minato nods, moving away from the small group of vaguely worried and annoyed teammates gathering around him.

He glances at the clock, inwardly he sighs. There's not enough time for both a shower and sleep. There goes his pre-Tartarus nap.

-

Minato really didn't want to leave the warmth of the shower. Begrudgingly, he stepped out from its steamy confides, the hot water dissipating quickly in the cold air.

Minato hisses, hurriedly grabbing his towel.

He rubs the towel through his hair, draping it across his shoulders like a cape to keep him warm and to catch stray droplets of water. As he dresses himself, he inhales sharply. His breath got caught on the flem in his throat as he forced down a cough.

Fishing out his sword and evoker from his closet, he also pulls out some pills from his nightstand to take for his unrelenting headache.

Exiting his room, he haphazardly buckles his belt as he makes his way downstairs, his evoker snug against his thigh. Holding his sword by the hilt, he dragged it down with him. Usually he is better about properly handling his equipment but he’s far too tired to care about that right now. Besides, he’s been meaning to buy the team new weapons anyways.

There’s a light chatter coming from the living room, his team is waiting on him.

He saunters to the kitchen and grabs a glass of water, gulping some down and swallowing the pain medication with it. Finishing the rest of the water, he places the cup in the sink— which is already full of other miscellaneous dishes; he'll clean them when he returns.

Pulling out another facial mask, he fits it over his face before joining the others.

Minato steps into the living room, slinking down next to Yukari who in turn stares at him, eyes looking him up and down. She hums, thinking for a second with a band on her chin, she opens her mouth to voice her thoughts but then Mitsuru begins speaking.

“The Dark Hour should begin any second n–”

As if on cue, the lights cut out, the buzz of noise coming from the television dies, the air conditioning also cuts. A sickly green washes over the world, everything is eerily silent.

“Well, let’s head out.”

-

They got to Tartarus within no time at all, everyone bringing a bag with their own belongings. Yukari was already getting comfy at the base of the stairs, assigned reading in her hands. Fuuka took a seat beside her, immediately hunching over her laptop. Junpei was talking excitedly to Ken, who didn’t look too interested but still nodded along. Aigis…

Minato glanced around and flinched, Aigis was standing directly behind him. A seemingly blank expression that screamed, “take me with you” stared at him.

He turned away and approached Akihiko, someone who Minato would consider an essential to exploring Tartarus. There was rarely a time when Akihiko wasn’t on the team.

“You better not be sick.” Akihiko raised a brow and glanced between Minato’s mask and eyes.

Minato shrugged, he knew Akihiko was dying for an opportunity to head into Tartarus. Especially since their last trip was a week ago and he got knocked out early in his trip in, he spent most of the Dark Hour stewing by the entrance.

He just sighed and followed Minato. “Just don’t get us sick.”

Nodding, he heads over to Junpei, Shinjiro, and Ken. An odd group, he doesn’t normally see them together like this. Shinjiro and Ken are recent recruits so he knows he should probably take them out to get a good measure of their abilities. Ken looks over and brightens at Minato’s approach.

“Take me with you!” Ken exclaims excitedly, he grips his spear in both his hands. Minato studies him for a second then nods, Ken smiles widely. “I won’t let you down!”

Minato then shifts his gaze from Junpei to Shinjiro. Junpei seems to already know he isn’t going tonight as he defeatedly makes his way to Yukari and Fuuka. Minato stares at Shinjiro who just silently stares back.

Minato motions for him to follow, turning towards the stairs. At the base of the stairs is the rest of the team, all sat in a circle facing one another. Mitsuru seems to have started an impromptu study group with Yukari and the others by the stairs. They glanced at the team and wished them luck as Minato and company made their way up the stairs.

-

After the nth time Ken jumped in front of an attack aimed at Minato in an attempt to protect him; Minato pulled the team aside and led them through the access point.

“I'm fine!” Ken complained as Minato switched him out for Yukari. “I have so much energy left in my Persona! I can heal myself.”

It was true Ken still had a well of SP, his health was low but he could heal himself. However, the thought of him sustaining injuries that were meant for Minato made his stomach churn. Ken shouldn’t be getting injured on anyone's behalf. Especially not his own. He was the leader, it was his responsibility to keep him safe.

Ken was too eager to prove his worth but he shouldn’t be trying to prove it by becoming a glorified human shield. Minato didn’t have the energy to properly address why it was wrong of Ken to be willingly throwing himself into harm's way.

Shaking his head, he croaks out a soft, “Too reckless.” Minato’s throat having gone dry from his earlier coughing fits.

Ken huffed, crossing his arms, as he took Yukari’s spot on the floor. Koromaru excitedly bounces to him, licking and sniffing at his hands. Junpei was already telling him to cheer up, offering to do some training drills with Ken in the meantime.

Minato carefully ignored Aigis’ stare. Her eyes fixed on Minato’s head, she was standing straight up, near the study group but much more hidden in the corner. Everything about her screamed, take me—her body language, her eyes, that blank look on her face.

Minato didn’t need to train Aigis right now, he reasoned, maybe next time when he takes Junpei and Ken.

They stepped back into the access point and returned back up into the higher floors of Tartarus, hopefully they can reach the ending of this area soon so Minato can go to sleep.

The first few floors they explored weren't anything they hadn't seen before. Yet, for some reason they progressed through each floor much slower than normal. It was mostly Minato’s fault, he’d been far too sluggish to properly explore each floor. He spent more time trying to avoid shadows than in battle with them. And even when he did engage, he was sweating profusely by the end of each battle.

Minato ordered them to split up, Yukari, Shinjiro, and Akihiko all sharing a look with each other. They glanced between each other and Minato, his vision was beginning to blur but even he could tell they thought it was a bad idea. Inwardly, he sighed, they were progressing far too slowly, if they split up they could cover more ground and make up for the lost time.

Despite their reluctance, they all agreed to split up.

As he walked down a hallway—without his teammates—he could feel an itchy lump form in his throat, his windpipe closing up. Minato pressed his hand into his chest in an attempt to alleviate the pressure in his lungs. His body shook as wheezing coughs rattled his ribs, sweat seeped into his hair and rolled down. He wheezed like he'd just ran ten miles, beginning to feel a little woozy; each step feeling more like a chore than the last. His concentration was also wavering, his vision blurred and his mind muddled as he tried to think over the pain in his head.

Yukari’s voice interrupted his thoughts with the news that she’d found the stairs. Minato felt waves of relief, he immediately turned on his heel to mosey his way to the location Yukari sent.

There was a loud scraping sound grating his ears, his sword noisily dragged behind him. It felt heavier than normal for some reason, he felt like his arm would fall off if he had to lift it with just one hand. He stopped mid walk to hunch over and hack into his hand, a rough cough wrecked his body once more. Doubling over, he wheezed into his elbow harshly.

He slowly evened out his breathing, thankful he had told them to split up; the team was much less likely to catch the cold now. It was more inconvenient for him, since he isn’t in optimal battling condition like this. However, it was far more favorable that he was sick rather than anyone else, he reasoned.

Minato let out a long breath, inhaling far too fast since the flem caught back into his throat. He doubled over again, fighting with his respiratory system for what felt like ages before there was a tap on his shoulder.

He tries to muffle his cough by forcefully closing his mouth and putting a hand over it.

Shinjiro’s towering figure steps into view, a bottle of water extended out to him. Minato takes it in between wheezes and lowers his mask to drink.

He can feel Shinjiro’s gaze on him as he meets his eyes briefly, he averts his eyes right after, letting the lukewarm water ease the ache in his throat.

“What is up with you today?” Shinjiro speaks finally.

Minato just shrugs, staring into the half empty water.

Shinjiro sighs, obviously on edge and irked. “No, that’s,” —He sighs, again, running a hand down his face— “If you’re feeling unwell, you should have rested.”

Minato shrugs again, he opens his mouth to try and articulate why they just had to go today in the least amount of words possible. Nothing but a whisper of a noise comes out, it sounds almost like a whine. He clears his throat, trying once more, only to get the same result. He frowns and tries something else.

"Team’s antsy." He signs.

“They can wait.”

"Already waited a week." Minato decides to chug the rest of the water, tactfully avoiding a coughing fit while also dodging elaborating any more.

Shinjiro looks like he has more to say, his face pinched in a way Minato learned to associate with lectures. Akihiko’s voice crackles to life over the communicator, interrupting whatever Shinjiro had planned to say.

“Where are you guys? You haven’t moved in a minute.”

Minato uses this opportunity to slip past Shinjiro, hurriedly walking towards the stairs.

“We’re on our way.” Shinjiro replies. “Just needed some water.”

Shinjiro’s footsteps trail right behind him, Minato can practically feel Shinjiro’s eyes on him. Minato tries to keep his steps balanced and even, he holds his breath as to not let out small gasps of air.

They go up the stairs–Minato in front, leading–he can hear their slowed footsteps and whispers amongst each other. Glancing back for a second, he sees Yukari’s intense eyes, squinting as she takes in his face. He blinks at her blankly, trying to wordlessly ask what she’s looking for. She turns away and so does he.

Minato clears his throat when they reach the next floor. He blinks slowly when he looks into it.

“Be careful! There’s no light on this floor.”

He could see that.

Minato stood at the top of the stairs, once they all reached the top of the stairs, the stairs disappeared. The floor wiggled to life like it was made of skin, they curled in the middle winding together before smoothing out into the hard floor again.

Resting a hand on the hilt of his sword, Minato thought for a moment, absentmindedly rubbing his sore throat.

“Split up.” He croaks, he clears his throat again, trying to remove the flem stuck in it.

“Are you sure?” Yukari asks, an edge of disbelief to her voice. “I can hardly see two feet in front of me, I doubt you can either.”

Minato shook his head, “Cover more ground.”

Before they could protest further, Minato surges forward, walking with as much intent as he could push into his swaying stride.

He stumbled when he was deep enough in the darkness, looking over his shoulder to confirm the rest of his team didn’t see the moment of weakness. Stretching out a hand he planted it against the wall to steady himself, then decided to just lean against the cool wall. He breathed out a small sigh of relief.

A second passed, he pushed himself off the wall, ready to continue exploring. Just as he was about to take a step, he turned and a Shadow pounced on him.

Balance thrown off, he stumbled backwards, sword still clutched in as much of an iron grip he could muster. His legs wobbled as he tried to find even footing, he faced the Shadow, staring it down as he took a step back. His foot landed on a stone, small and round, if he was in a better condition Minato would probably just readjust his foot. Instead, however, his foot rolled, he tipped backwards, falling back on his rear. His sword clattered on the ground, his head spun and throbbed with pain from the sudden movement.

His hands flew to his evoker, he halfheartedly twirled it in his hand and held it to his head.

“Persona!” His finger slammed down on the trigger the second it was in position. He sends the Shadow flying away with a quick swing from his Persona.

Minato breathes out a sigh of relief, as he makes an effort to stand up before he falls into another coughing fit. It rattles his body, he collapses onto his elbows, facing the floor. Immediately prying off his face mask he begins to openly cough and hack up mucus, his eyes watering. His head was palpitating with each cough, he stared at the fluids on the ground with disgust.

One last harsh cough escapes his throat as he settles himself. He inhales loudly, pain pulsating through his throat. He fits the mask back over his face. Reaching for the almost forgotten sword, he uses the sword as a brace to help balance himself as he stands up. His legs tremble as he slowly establishes his footing.

He turns around to face yet another battle, this time the rest of his team is surrounding a group of Shadows. Somehow his team managed to find the exact hallway he was fighting for his life in.

That first Shadow that attacked him must've exploded into a whole flock. Minato grimaced, adjusting his grip on his sword. It felt obnoxiously large in his hands, he only tightened his hands around the handle.

Yukuri fires an arrow, hitting her target. The Shadow melts into the ground, arrow falling shortly after.

Usually Minato gives out short commands and directions, this time however–

Lunging forward, he swings his sword with less tact and force than usual but it was enough to slash the Shadow. His vision is blurred, he can hardly even focus on a target. Nevertheless, the Shadow disappears into a cloud of smoke.

He jumps back, watching as Akihiko summons his Persona.

Minato barely has time to process what happened, he falls, much more harshly than before. His head bounces off the floor. It reverberates his skull, his eyes leak with tears. His sword is still held loosely in his grip, or he thinks it is. There’s a heavy clatter next to him, maybe it slipped. As he opened his eyes, he saw the Shadow that attacked him scurried away.

Groaning, Minato tries to recover and get back up.

Another Shadow approaches him and slashes him, he feels lightheaded.

He crumbles again. His body is too weak to bother.

Pressure builds in his head, like someone is compressing his skull in between two hydraulic presses. He feels dizzy, even in the low light, stars bounce around his vision.

He feels terrible.

Also tired. Maybe if he can't have his pre-Tartarus nap he can just–

His eyes shut.

-

Opening his eyes, he’s greeted by darkness and a copper almost burnt smell. He turns his body over, pressing his face into the checkered floor. It's nice and cool, but the scent of blood is even more prominent.

Minato looks around, trying to decipher where he is, he squints his eyes. Everything looks vaguely familiar, if not really blurry. Like he's crossed eyed. Expect he's not crossed eyed. He just stares into nothing.

“...ato!”

There’s a jumble of voices. He can recognize who's who, from their tone and inflections, he thinks it’s Yukari calling out his name. But he can't make out what they're specifically saying.

Maybe he should just go back to bed. He is incredibly tired.

He pushes his palms to the ground, with the intention of walking himself to his room, shakily pushing his body up and off the floor. There’s something on his face. It’s suffocating him. His hands weakly claw at the material, successfully pushing it off. It falls to the floor beside him.

Minato should go to bed. He’s so sleepy.

Staggering on his hands and knees, he lurches forward and vomits.

His eyes were fixated on the discolored substance below him, the smell was nauseating. It was almost enough to make him hurl once more but he restrained himself from doing so.

With a shudder, he could feel his arms threaten to collapse. Laying in his own sick sounds super gross so he tries not to collapse on top of it. Just as he begins to straighten his arms, two cold hands seize him by the shoulders.

He’s pulled backwards, spun around and then planted promptly against someone’s chest. A musky–distinctly wooden with the faintest lavender–scent replaced the repulsive smell from earlier, it was comforting. A cold hand is placed on his forehead. It's really nice. It must be Shinjiro, he always has cold hands.

“Shit.” Shinjiro sounds angry, Minato fidgets in Shinjiro’s arms, trying to escape from his hold. His efforts only bring him in a closer and more secure hold against Shinjiro's chest. Minato falls limp against his hold, accepting his fate and closing his eyes. “He's running a fever.”

“Puked too.” Yukari added.

There's sounds of someone snapping their fingers close to his face. “Open up.”

Minato peels his eyes open, blearily looking at Akihiko through squinted eyes. His face is intense, eyes sharp and mouth pressed like he's deep in thought.

Shinjiro’s arms are so comfortable, they curl around his shoulder, his face pressed so gently into the soft fabric of his coat, his eyes fall shut again.

“Hey!” Akihiko's voice sounds again. “Keep your eyes open.”

Minato curls deeper into Shinjiro’s arm with a small whine, Akihiko is too loud. It makes his head hurt.

There's a shift of fabric. “Do you think he's—”

Minato feels a gloved hand cup his face, they draw him away from Shinjiro’s chest. He blinks, facing the worried faces of Yukari and Akihiko.

Akihiko pulls his eyes open, staring into them. Minato tries to wiggle away but he's held firm by Akihiko and Shinjiro.

“It's hard to see…” Akihiko mumbles “...his pupils are dilated.”

“Minato.” Yukari says, she wiggles a finger in the air. “Follow it with just your eyes, okay?”

Minato stares at her, he gives her no indication of agreement to whatever she's doing. She takes his lack of response as a motivator to begin to draw shapes with her finger in the air.

“Verdict?” Shinjiro's voice rumbles.

Akihiko sighs. “Definitely concussed.”

Shinjiro’s cool hand returns to his forehead. Minato lets out a small sigh, pressing his face into it. Minato shuts his eyes again, content to fall asleep.

“Minato.” Shinjiro says, removing his hand. “Wake up.”

He blinks again.

“Shouldn't we just let him sleep, probably easier to get him downstairs.” Yukari says.

Akihiko shakes his head. “His concussion could worsen if he falls asleep. There's no way for us to tell how bad it is without proper light or equipment.”

Minato doesn't really get what they're saying, sure he hears it, but it doesn't process in his mind. He presses himself deeper into Shinjiro’s arms. It's nice.

“He's freezing.” Shinjiro notes. Minato shakes his head, he misunderstands, Minato is too hot. It's too warm in Tartarus, someone should install an air conditioning unit in here.

“Look, we should go and find the access point.”

“Yeah.” Akihiko agrees. “Stick together, don't engage with Shadows unless necessary.”

Yukari snorts. “Obviously.”

“Fuuka we’re heading back,” Akihiko reports over the communicator, “Mianto’s injured.”

“Don’t we have any Traesto Gems?” Shinjiro’s chest rumbles with his words, Minato can feel the infliction from how close he is.

“Oh yeah, Minato just bought some today.”

Minato’s eyes are so heavy, he doesn't understand why they don't want him to sleep. Each time he closes them his team gets mad.

“Shit.” Akihiko curses, he’s rifled through both his pockets. “I think we left them at the entrance.”

“Minato, wake up.” Shinjiro snaps gruffly.

A whispery groan sounds from the back of his throat, it comes out as more of a soft whimper. He pries his eyes open, blinking rapidly in an effort of shaking the sleep from his eyes.

“I can see a Shadow, I think it's just around this corner. Stay here.” Yukari disappears around the corner, knocking an arrow preemptively into her bow.

Akihiko runs a hand through his hair, his hand glides over the short bristles. He looks stressed.

“Aki.”

“What.”

“Help me out over here.” Shinjiro shifts his grip, Minato feels himself get lowered to the ground, a chill washes over him. His head pulsates violently at the movement, it feels like someone cracked his head into two. He shivers from the lack of warmth as he leaves Shinjiro’s arms, another pathetic noise escapes his mouth before he can stop it.

“M’not leaving you here.” Shinjiro murmurs. “We’ll be out of this hellhole in a sec.”

It was as if his blood turned to ice, but the rest of his body didn't get the memo. He was freezing yet sweating. The floor felt as if it were melting him, he felt like he was being burned alive as he slumped back against the wall of Tartarus. His uniform, sticky and hot, clung to his body in an uncomfortable manner. He tries to paw his collar open in a bid to cool off his skin.

Minato fumbles with the collar and necktie, he can hear some shuffling and an exchange of words between Akihiko and Shinjiro.

There’s a hand on his own, guiding his hands from his necktie back to his side, then a flourish of fabric. He feels a heavy weight set on him, it's warm, he shivers involuntarily underneath it. It's comforting.

Blearily, he looks over to examine what was set on him. In the low light he can make out something maroon colored.

It’s a maroon coat. He squints and realizes it’s Shinjiro’s maroon coat. Shinjiro’s maroon coat was draped over his body; he feels dizzily warm. Minato opens his mouth to protest only for his voice to get caught. High pitched air comes out instead, he tries again but it’s only a garble of words which most likely just sounds like another whine.

Shinjiro breathes out from his nose, there’s a strange expression on his face Minato can’t decipher in his sickly state.

Minato feels Shinjiro’s arms slip under his knees and support his head, they stand up, Minato’s legs swinging freely. Minato grumbles, tucking his face into Shinjiro’s chest.

“How is he doing?” Akihiko's voice sounds.

Shinjiro's chest vibrates with his words. “He’s freezing, Aki, I just” —sigh— “I dunno it’s…”

“Weird. He’s so…” Akihiko trails off. “Needy?”

“What? No? Jesus Christ.” Shinjiro scoffs. “Sickly, if anything.”

“That…yeah, that’s a better word.”

“Guys.” Yukari shouts. Minato’s head pounds again, he lets out a breathy sound. “Where are you?”

“Over here.” Akihiko calls out.

There's the sound of heels clicking against the floor, the sound faintly echoing in the room.

“I cleared out most of the Shadows ahead, also I think I can see an access point, c’mon.”

“Finally.” Shinjiro says.

They’re moving again, it makes no difference to Minato; the floor is already spinning. His stomach churns from the movement and he’s so tempted to shut his eyes to ease the dizziness, but—

“Hey,” Yukari taps his shoulder, “Eyes open, Minato.”

Minato lets out a grumble. He complies with Yukari’s request, opening his eyes to see Yukari walking alongside Shinjiro peering at his face. Her eyebrows furrow in thought, she looks like she’s contemplating something.

Yukari speaks again. “Are you crying?”

Minato blinks, no, he wants to say. He’s really not.

Shinjiro stops in his tracks, looking down at his face, inspecting it.

“Oh.”

Someone thumbs over his face, wiping off the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

Minato squirms a little, he didn’t even realize he was crying. Tears sprang to his eyes when they burned from lack of sleep, it’s not really crying; if anything it’s more akin to his eyes sweating.

But Minato can’t articulate that.

He certainly tries.

Noises spring from his throat, they sound less like words and resemble whimpers and pules from a small child.

Yukari sighs, she runs a hand over his forehead. “…His condition is a lot worse than we thought, huh?”

“Yeah…” Akihiko says.

The team doesn’t speak much after that.

They all quicken their pace.

Shinjiro presses a firmer hand on Minato’s head, keeping it steady and from swaying too much. Minato keeps his eyes slightly open, he watches them turn dark corner after dark corner until he can see though the black haze a green glow.

“There!”

-

The entrance is a lot brighter compared to Minato’s memory of it. He lets out a pained groan at the sudden barrage of lights, he could hear a multitude of footsteps rush to them.

“Got a concussion while in battle, been hacking up a lung since we began exploring, high fever, freezing to the touch.” Shinjiro lists quickly.

Blinking softly, he buries himself deeper into the crook of Shinjiro’s bicep. Pressing his face into it, his cheek against his chest. His left eye lingered upwards, studying Shinjiro’s features. His brows were knit, his mouth in a thin line. He blinks softly, pressing himself deeper to shield his eyes from the blazing lights, his bangs shift, covering his field of vision. Shinjiro readjusted his hold, softly rubbing his thumb against Minato’s shoulder.

“Minato.” Aigis’s stilted, mechanical voice says, a cool metal hand touches his check. Minato turns his head, he squints through his bangs, hissing at the light.

Another hand gets placed on his forehead, the hand is warm and calloused, it brushes his bangs away. Minato recognizes it as Mitsuru’s; the nails too short to be Yukari’s, her hands too rough to be Fuuka. He presses his forehead into her palm, soaking in the warmth.

“How is he?” Mitsuru asks. She peers at him, her face too far away and blurry for Minato to take in any details of her expression. Minato feels his eyes shut for a second.

Aigis looks at him a moment longer. “Pneumonia; Stage two: Red hepatization. Mild Concussion. Heartbeat is normal. His temperature is high, above average of the recommended temperature.”

Prying his eyes open, he involuntarily lets out a soft grumble at the light again. Mitsuru pulls her hand away, not after tucking a piece of his bangs behind his ear.

“Holy shit!” Junpei shouts.

Minato fidgets again, whining at the loud sound, he turns his head away from Aigis’s hands, he hides his face back into Shinjiro’s arm. No one chides him for pressing his face away from everyone. Instead, someone rests a gentle hand on his head, stroking his hair.

“Sh!” Yukari hisses. “Are you stupid? Be quiet!”

“Sorry!”

Ken's voice sounds close to him, his voice is small when he says, “Is Minato going to be okay?”

Despite his pounding head, Minato is tempted to turn around to reassure Ken. Let him know he’ll be okay, it’s just a slight cold. Minato begins to turn his head, but someone presses gently at his head, bringing it close to Shnijiro’s chest again. He doesn’t resist, he allows for his face to return to its original spot, hidden from view. He slumps slightly in the hold, sleep tugging at his mind.

“Of course, he just needs rest and medicine.” Mitsuru replies. “It was a bad idea to go into Tartarus when sick.”

Minato can envision her frown, her hand on under her chin, the careful way she shifts her stance to accommodate the discomfort she feels in heels.

“Let’s go back to the dorms, no use in hanging around here.” Akihiko says.

The voices of his team chiding him for closing his eyes rings out. He pulls his face out from Shinjiro’s upper arm, squinting his eyes as light burns into his retinas. He blinks, trying to rid the black dots spotting in his vision.

As his vision clears, Shinjiro’s face comes into blurry focus. Minato can hardly make out the details of his face, only blobs of shadows and highlights. He could feel a hand wipe near his eyes, hot liquid seeping out of them involuntarily. The hand is cold, nice against his feverish skin. He leans into it, letting out a small sigh. He feels Shinjiro chest rumble, like he is letting out a soft laugh.

“Hey, Minato,” Shinjiro mumbles softly, Minato can feel his warm breath tickle his ear, “You can rest now.”

Minato nods, the movement is soft and lethargic. He finally allows himself to fully relax his body, sinking deep into Shinjiro’s arm. Body going completely lax.

He falls asleep within seconds.

-

Minato wakes up to a hand in his hair, stroking his hair in a rhythmic pattern. The feeling almost lulling him back to sleep, his eyes threatening to shut once more. Instead he peels his eyes open, blinking rapidly as an attempt to get the sleepiness out.

An uncomfortable stickiness plagues his body, he wants to fling off the blankets but it feels so comforting. He lets a groan slip as he reaches to rub his eyes, noticing Shinjiro’s coat still being draped over him like a makeshift blanket. He is slowly becoming aware of his sleeping position: he’s held at an angle, his legs sprawled over the couch and his torso upright.

“Hello.” Aigis greets.

Aigis hand retracts from his head, if he had more energy and less awareness, he would’ve chased the hand. Instead he looks around, he realizes they’re in the dorms, there’s no one else in sight. Distantly, he can hear thunder rumble outside. Ken is afraid of thunder.

“I am able to regulate my temperature to alleviate any extra body heat you produce.”

Minato wonders if anyone is going to check on Ken.

A cooled hand returns to his forehead, it is nice against his head. He feels as if he’s burning, his hair feels damp from sweat. Relaxing against Aigis’s hand, he almost drifts back to sleep once more.

“Hey.” Shinjiro's voice calls out. There’s a light clatter as a tray is being set down. “How is he?”

“He is awake.”

Minato opens his eyes to Shinjiro’s slouching figure hovering over him. He looked much less threatening without his jacket on, a pink apron adorned him instead.

Shinjiro places his hand on Minato’s forehead. They're warm, probably from cooking.

“He feels better.” He mumbles.

“His fever has lowered.”

Shinjiro hums.

Minato is shifted forward, moved so he's propped against Aigis, her cool hands help hold him in place so he doesn't just fall over. Shinjiro sits on the couch, right next to them, he pulls the tray off of the coffee table, setting it in his lap.

Minato stares at the bowl, steam billowing out of it.

“Miso soup.” Shinjiro states, taking a spoon from the tray and stirring the bowl around. “Open.”

Shinjiro feeds him the soup. Minato barely processes the action, he feels too lethargic, limbs even heavier. The pressure in his head has decreased slightly.

Aigis helps to hold his bangs out of his face. Shinjiro slowly feeds him, the spoon scraping the bottom of the bowl.

Thunder rumbles again. Ken.

Minato doesn't open his mouth for the next bite. Shinjiro holds the spoon for a second before giving him a questioning look. “Are you full?”

He shakes his head, he croaks out. “Ken.”

“Ken?” Thunder rages outside.

Minato nods, and tries to get to his feet only to be held back down by Aigis. Before anyone can say anything, Mitsuru enters.

There’s a chorus of greetings, Shinjiro begins to speak when Mitsuru steps closer. Her hair is slightly damp, like she just got out of the shower.

Running a hand through her hair, she takes a seat on the couch across from them. “The doctors are saying to just keep him upright and watch. They don't think it's serious enough to warrant us risking it in the storm.”

Shinjiro shrugs, prodding the spoon at Minato until he opens his mouth again. “He seems fine.”

“Regardless–”

“Storm’s clearin’ up tomorrow, right? I can take him over, get him checked out by your fancy doctors.”

Mitsuru lets out a breath. Propping an arm up on her knee, she leans back, head hung.

Shinjiro sits up, putting the empty soup bowl on the coffee table. “Are you–”

“It's not that. I’m…” She leans forward, straightening her posture. “It’s not like we didn’t notice, we all witnessed his condition yet we merely dismissed it.”

There was a sigh followed by some light shuffling as she crossed her legs. “I of all people should have said something. If it were Akihiko I would have had him by the ear—”

“Aki is different. He actively makes his injuries worse.”

Aigis speaks, there’s no rumble from her chest, just clicks and putters, then an almost inaudible buzzing noise. “I understand.” Her voice is monotone yet there’s a defeated edge to it. “I too noticed his condition. I had a reading on his temperature, but I failed to protect him and he returned injured.”

“I mean,” Shinjiro says, “I doubt he’d really let either of you two’se fussin’ stop him.”

“Still-”

“Mitsuru.” He snaps, he breathes out, his voice is lower when he speaks next. “Go to bed.”

There's a pause, before Mitsuru’s disbelieving voice speaks again. “What?”

“You have classes tomorrow,” Shinjiro clears his throat and begins collecting the dishes, “It's late, don't need the director comin’ up with excuses why you feel asleep in class.”

“Nonsense that would never happen.”

“By restricting rest, you are raising the probability of you falling asleep during a lecture. Lack of sleep impacts your ability to focus and increases the likelihood of death.” Aigis says.

Mitsuru sighs, defeated. “Alright.” Minato hears her shuffle out of her seat.

“‘Night.” Shinjiro calls.

Mitsuru pauses on the stairs. “Goodnight.” There's a moment of silence. “You should go to bed soon, as well.”

Shinjiro doesn't respond. He mumbles something about needing to check on Ken later, before sighing loudly.

He looks at Minato. “You still hungry? You look like you're half dead.”

Minato shakes his head lightly, turning and resting it against Aigis’s torso.

“I will take him to bed.” She states. Her arms hook under his legs and neck, an action slowly becoming familiar.

Shinjiro nods, standing up with the tray in his hands.

“Will you head to bed, as well?”

Shinjiro snorts like he just found something funny. “I will…I’m going to finish the dishes first. Sleep well.”

“I do not engage in a rest cycle, I allow my body to recharge after spending my batteries. However, I appreciate the sentiment.”

“...Right.”

Minato feels himself carried up the stairs, the gentle rhythmic rocking from each leveled step. Minato feels his eyes close.

Sleep comes easy.