[Third try's the charm. Or is it the sixth? He can't remember. You'd think after months spent in the bowels of the coldest villages imaginable, sleeping under the stars and in caves while weathering the elements would have turned his immune system to stone.
Instead he finds himself red around the nose and congested, slouching on his bed and
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I'll get some ginger at the market, too.
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I just need rest.
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Yes, you do need rest, and warmth. And a bit of ginger tea won't hurt. Our moth-- [Short, awkward pause] ...It's an effective remedy.
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[Soft] I'm sorry. [A little louder] I'll be back soon with the tea.
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The fear and exhilaration he'd felt that time he'd watched Itachi coughing blood between his fingers like a river, and then the horror when he realized what it meant. What it really meant, it made it all too real, too permanent.
He never wants to see that again. Not because of him. Not because of anything.]
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...If I'm going to catch what you have, I'll catch it. I don't want to be...separated from you.
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He doesn't want to bring about that death again. He doesn't think he can survive losing him again.]
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...Would it be better for you if I leave it outside the door?
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no...
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I'll...bring it in, then. Just don't sneeze on me.
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