Tags & Trigger warnings: Emetophilia, sickfic, vomit, Kazuha's friend/Past Kazuha

Summary: In which during his travels around Inazuma Kazuha finds himself sick one night and ends up making a new friend as a result.

Posted to Ao3: August 23 2021

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It was raining outside, lightning flaring to life in the sky as thunder rumbled and split the air. Wind as cold as ice whipped around leaving a slight sting as it brushed over his skin.

It's cold, practically freezing but it was more than likely his rain-soaked clothing that had Kazuha feeling this way.

He's shivering, his entire body trembling as he curls in on himself slightly. He's laying on the floor of a nearby cave he found, the first form of shelter that he'd stumbled across during the storm, a very small campfire providing some warmth but doing nothing to ease the cold that seemed to be seeping into his very bones.

All of this only adds to his awful condition, Kazuha had woken up this morning feeling horrible. Uncomfortably, disgustingly warm a sensation that had only grown into an almost searing heat that enveloped him leaving him feeling as though he'd been burning from the inside out.

A horrible ache in his head as it throbbed, the pain piercing through the fever fueled haze blanketing his mind with a startling clarity disrupting any attempts he made to form a thought.

His stomach feels as though it's in knots, dizzying waves of nausea washing over him as it churns violently leaving him feeling light-headed.

This isn't good and Kazuha knows he should be trying to get out of his wet clothes since they're only wording his condition, but he's exhausted in every sense of the word and it is taking all the remaining energy he has just to stay awake.

He's scared not just at the fact that he's sick and alone at the moment, but that he's vulnerable whether that be to treasure hoarders or even some random monster that may find him. His fingers are numb and heavy so he can't even grip his sword right now, while he does have his vision as well, just the act of trying to focus enough to gather the elemental energy needed to use it would be near impossible.

Kazuha groans, curling in on himself when his stomach makes a soft gurgling noise practically writhing beneath his fingers, a dull ache streaking across it. Soft hiccups bubbling out of him as if he's drunk, each one jolting his body slightly and sending pain streaking across his stomach.

He struggles to keep his eyes open as the exhaustion combined with the fever begins to weigh down his eyelids. As he's drifting off Kazuha thinks he hears something nearby, soft almost careful footsteps just under the pitter-patter of rain and the crackling thunder. Kazuha whimpers the noise desperate and panicked as fear begins to flare to life inside of him, his eyes close just for a moment and he forces them open.

There's someone standing beside him now, between the dim firelight and his blurring vision he can make out sandy blond hair and a dark blue scarf. Kazuha's last thought before he loses consciousness is that, if he is about to be killed, he can only hope that it's painless.

~~~

Kazuha is slow to wake up, the first thing he registers is that it's hot, uncomfortably hot, reminding Kazuha faintly of Inazuma's many humid summer days. But there's something cold on his forehead and it feels nice, soothing even.

A fever-fueled haze blankets his mind heavily, shuddering ragged breaths leaving his mouth as he stares up at the gray stone of the cave ceiling heavily dazed.

Kazuha has no clue what time it is but he does know that it's still raining from the faint pitter-patter of it hitting the ground outside. The rich soothing scent of wet earth filling his nose with each breath he takes.

Kazuha coughs violently, a low groan leaving his mouth as he curls in on himself slightly, stars bursting in his vision, his head throbbing viciously and pain streaking across his stomach as nausea swirls violently in it. He shifts rolling over on his side as he struggles to take in air, tears gathering in his eyes as they squeeze shut.

Then he feels a hand on him, unfamiliar calloused fingers brushing across his forehead and Kazuha's eyes snap open as he flinches away. A sharp panic grips him even through the fever-fueled haze blanketing his mind. His hand reaches out frantically yet blindly searching for his sword.

"Hey, hey, it's alright. I mean you no harm." A voice says, it's calm and friendly, strangely disarming.

Kazuha pauses, blinking slowly as he pants staring at the owner of the voice that's crouched beside him with narrow eyes. It's a man, perhaps a little older than Kazuha with long, fluffy-looking blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. He has light-colored eyes, is wearing a blue and white plaid scarf, and is dressed in red and black. Something on the front of his clothing does catch Kazuha's eye, however, a vision, an electro one to be exact.

"You're pretty unlucky to wind up sick in the middle of nowhere aren't you?" The man chuckles as Kazuha continues blankly staring at him.

He doesn't sense any malice or danger coming from the man, if anything the stranger is oddly relaxed, almost gentle. Now slightly more awake and aware, Kazuha slowly becomes aware of a few other things. One, the small campfire that had started to die out as he was drifting off to sleep is now burning brightly although the light only stings his eyes, and the heat only makes him feel worse.

Two the stranger is holding a wet cloth in his other hand, which was more than likely the cool thing Kazuha had felt on his forehead when he'd first woken up.

And three Kazuha feels really, really sick to his stomach, a soft hiccup leaving his mouth as the nausea that'd been swirling in his stomach only grows.

He groans when his stomach suddenly sloshes, a hand going to it when it makes a low growling noise. He closes his eyes, doing his best to take deep breaths as he swallowed thickly trying to fight against the dizzying nausea currently enveloping him.

Kazuha hears the stranger give a soft hum. "What's wrong? Is your stomach bothering you too," he asked.

Kazuha nods his eyes still closed and he realizes in the very next second that he probably shouldn't have done that. His stomach sloshes like someone shaking a water balloon and Kazuha gags wetly. A gurgling burp has a surge of pale, watery vomit leaving his mouth, spilling onto the cave floor beside him, and Kazuha coughs, spluttering as drool drips from his lips.

The stranger gives a soft hiss as he reaches out, brushing Kazuha's hair from his face, his other hand going to rub Kazuha's back as the young man retches, choking up another rather large, thick wave of pale vomit adding to the soup like puddle beside him.

"That's it, just get it up," the stranger told him gently, a frown on his face.

Kazuha whimpers as he gasps, his stomach heaves again bringing up one final surge of vomit although this wave is thicker and lumpy with an almost pinkish coloring to it and Kazuha squeezes his eyes shut when he realizes he can make out the chucks of lavender melon and fish he'd eaten for dinner last night.

Kazuha coughs, soft hiccups still jolting his body as his head throbs in time with his heartbeat. He can't tell if his face is burning from the shame and embarrassment he feels at the moment or from the fever.

The stranger hums softly, the scowl still on his face as he feels Kazuha's forehead, and Kazuha's eyes flutter close for a moment as he leans into the touch, it feels nice on his burning skin. "Yep, your fever's still going strong," the stranger muttered, although it sounds like he's talking more to himself rather than Kazuha.

The man sighed as his other hand reached out, gently grabbing Kazuha's shoulder and moving him to lay on his back. Kazuha watches him, still dazed as the man folds the still wet cloth before carefully placing it on Kazuha's forehead.

"Just try to sleep, hopefully when you wake up your fever will have gone down," the man told him gently.

Kazuha is quiet for a moment, then to the stranger's surprise, he speaks. The young man's voice is raspy and weak. "What...is your name," he asked softly, his eyes half-lidded as he fought to stay awake for a moment.

"Me? Just call me Tomo, most people do nowadays anyway," the man, Tomo, chuckled, a grin spreading across his face.

Kazuha manages a small tired smile. "Tomo...thank you," Kazuha whispered as his eyes closed and he finally allowed himself to drift off to sleep.