Readers mail….
From Bertil Wedin…
To Margaret Sheard and Chris Elliott
Dear Friends,
Thank you for the latest issue of Cyprusscene e-newspaper and your messages about health issues. Your e-journal remains an excellent source of important information and interesting stories. (more…)
maybe all of Karasuno getting food poisoning at once??
AN: this, like all mass illness fics, is ridiculously excessive and i love it
yes i am including the managers because you said ALL of karasuno and i don’t skimp
for more karasuno team sickness, click here
If the meat buns tasted a little off, no one noticed at the time. They were all just more than happy to get to eat something on the way to their training camp; the food was appreciated, and not a scrap was left on the bus as the teenagers devoured every last crumb.
That this was a mistake became obvious by the last leg of their trip. Suffering was beginning to become apparent in several members of the team – Yamaguchi was leaning his face against the cool window, as he gripped his stomach, while Hinata’s face had gone gray, and Yachi wouldn’t seem to stop burping into her hands.
“Ah, I’m so sorry!” she would exclaim after every one to Kiyoko, sitting next to her. “I didn’t mean to – it’s just my stomach, I think!”
“Maybe it’s upset,” Kiyoko replied with furrowed brows. She was a vegetarian; she hadn’t eaten the meat buns, but she wouldn’t be surprised to learn that Yachi had a sensitive stomach. Yachi nodded, looking very small hunched over in her seat; Kiyoko felt a tug on her heartstrings as she began to run the other girl’s back.
The rest of the sick first years weren’t getting as much sympathy.
“Do not puke on me, I swear,” Kageyama muttered, casting Hinata a wary look as he drew his knees up to his chest. Hinata glared, but he couldn’t say he wasn’t considering it; his stomach felt upset, in a way that nerves usually weren’t able to do any longer. He could feel the contents of his belly churning, bubbling ominously. It was impossible not to worry about being sick, when he was feeling so terrible.
“I’m not going to,” he muttered, but a low gurgle punctuated his words, and he winced.
From where Tsukishima was watching this all across the aisle, he felt a spike of anxiety that nearly felt like nausea himself. “Yamaguchi,” he said, nudging his friend, and the sick boy next to him groaned.
“What is it, Tsukki?”
“What if those meat buns weren’t good? What if there was something wrong with them?”
Yamaguchi fell silent for a long moment, eyes trained out the window. His lack of response was hardly reassuring to his best friend at all; Tsukishima’s fingers dug into his knees as he glared at the seat in front of him, weighing the possibility.
They hadn’t gotten the buns from Ukai’s shop this morning; they’d actually never visited this cafe before. It wouldn’t be out of the question for something to have been wrong with the meat – something that was now making Yamaguchi, Hinata, and Yachi ill.
Tsukishima swallowed hard and frowned as his own stomach gave an unusual burble. If there really had been something wrong with the food they’d eaten…
That would mean the entire Karasuno team ran the risk of getting sick.
By the time the bus drew to a halt outside of the school hosting the camp, the conditions of the first years had deteriorated.
Yachi had gone from stifling her burps to now belching openly, head resting against Kiyoko’s shoulder. The other girl was obliging, running long fingers through her friend’s hair and not verbalizing her concern, even as Yachi’s back occasionally gave a small shudder.
Hinata was worse. Curled up in his seat, he had both hands wrapped around his stomach. His face was an alarming shade of green. Anyone paying attention could tell he was about to be sick, and soon. Next to him, Kageyama was looking more than a little frightened – if anyone was within range to be puked on, it was him.
Once the coolness of the window had stopped helping, Yamaguchi had taken to hunching over and whimpering softly at the cramps rocking his core. At last, Tsukishima had been able to take no more. He half-guided, half-shoved Yamaguchi down into his lap. The boy had settled there easily, seeming grateful for a place to rest his head. He hadn’t stirred for the rest of the ride, but every so often would let out a wet burp as Tsukishima ran his hand in circles over the skin of his friend’s stomach.
Other people were feeling queasy too. Kinoshita had started complaining of nausea not long ago, and Asahi was hunched over with both arms around his middle, his face a sickly pale.
Sugawara had made himself busy – flitting back and forth between teammates, checking on their conditions and making sure no one else was feeling sick. Some people could barely even answer; others just moaned weakly and replied that of course they felt sick.
By the time he finally got a chance to rest – in the seat next to Daichi he’d vacated an hour ago – he didn’t have a clue what to say.
“This… is bad,” he decided on at last, and next to him Daichi gave a hum of agreement. The team captain sounded so resigned to his own fate; after the stomach flu debacle of a few months ago, Suga wouldn’t be surprised if this incident finally drove him to just give up entirely.
It was obvious that the majority of the team was starting to suffer from food poisoning – the result of what could only have been bad meat. Suga bit his lip hard, eyes wandering over to the empty box that had once held enough meat buns to feed the entire team. The only team members who hadn’t eaten them had been Kiyoko and himself; Hinata and Nishinoya had eaten two each.
Their team was doomed.
“Oh man,” Sugawara moaned, torn between trying to comfort his ailing teammates and marveling at the catastrophe in front of him. “Daichi, what do we do?”
Daichi responded with a low burp.
“Daichi?”
Turning his attention to his best friend for the first time in a few minutes, Suga was alarmed by the uneasy look on Daichi’s face. A hand hovered over his stomach, and he was frowning down at his lap in a way that could only suggest discomfort. Suga’s mouth suddenly felt dry. “Oh no…”
Slowly, Daichi nodded. “Suga,” he said, “this is really, really bad.”
Daichi’s breathing was heavy and labored. It was a challenge for Suga not to cringe away from the cacophony of sick noises emanating from his friend’s stomach, but he was determined; he’d promised to help Daichi when he wasn’t feeling well, and that was what he was going to do. Even as he felt Daichi’s stomach gurgle under his palm, he didn’t draw away and the other boy seemed relieved for it.
“Maybe you should go check on Hinata,” Daichi muttered, though it was obvious he didn’t want the other boy to leave. Suga just shook his head, knowing Hinata would be exactly where he’d left him earlier; in the closest bathroom stall, vomiting up his breakfast.
The classroom Karasuno had chosen to bed down in was filled, despite it being midday. Nearly the entire team was bedridden by this point. Nishinoya was writhing, clutching his bloated stomach; Tanaka had just let out what had to be his twelfth wet burp into his fist; Asahi looked like he’d died a little while ago; and Ennoshita continued to groan as he hugged his middle. The only people who weren’t in bed were the ones who hadn’t fallen victim to the food poisoning (at this time, only Kiyoko, Suga, and Tsukishima) or the ones who had already fled to a bathroom stall (Hinata, Yachi, Narita, and Kageyama).
Overall, it was a miserable spectacle, and very little could be done for any of the sufferers except to keep them comfortable and hydrated.
Tanaka waved off an exhasperated looking Tsukishima as he tried to force water on him. “No – hell no. Gonna puke.”
“If you don’t drink, you’ll get dehydrated, and then you could die.”
“Dying would be better than this,” the sick boy grunted, letting out another wet burp. Tsukishima’s nose crinkled in disgust as he made a hasty retreat back to Yamaguchi’s bedside.
His friend had yet to throw up yet, but he also hadn’t been able to make himself comfortable. He was still writhing in bed, cramps shooting through his entire body. It was a struggle for Yamaguchi to even talk to him, so Tsukishima had done him the favor of leaving him alone. Now, though, the boy seemed glad that he was back.
“C- can I have some of that water, Tsukki?” he requested. “I’m kinda thirsty…”
Tsukishima frowned. “Are you sure it won’t upset your stomach?”
“It’s already pretty upset,” replied Yamaguchi, giving a weak smile. As if to agree with him a low gurgle suddenly tore though the air, and the sick boy grimaced.
Tsukishima didn’t know what to do; as much as he hated seeing his best friend suffer, there wasn’t much of a way for him to help. He felt helpless, and he absolutely hated it.
“Umm, actually…” If possible, Yamaguchi’s face had paled even more. “Can we go somewhere else? Think I’m gonna be…”
He didn’t have to say another word. In a second Tsukishima was up and moving, hauling his friend to his feet and ushering him quickly around rows of futons out of the room.
They had no sooner made it into the hallway than Yamaguchi doubled over with a sharp gag; Tsukishima didn’t have time to reel back before his best friend was suddenly heaving up a surge of vomit all over the floor. Some of it splashed Yamaguchi’s shirt; a bit even got on Tsukishima’s shoes, and it was all he could do not to groan in revulsion. As Yamaguchi trembled and heaved, Tsukishima held him up and braced himself for the inevitable end.
“S- sorry,” Yamaguchi managed once he was through. He sounded genuinely pitiful; Tsukishima couldn’t be angry with him.
“It’s okay,” he replied. “You didn’t mean to.”
He couldn’t be angry because Yamaguchi was sick; and if the roiling feeling in his own stomach was any indication, Tsukishima might not be far off from his friend’s miserable state. Gritting his teeth, he wrapped an arm around Yamaguchi’s shoulders and continued leading him to the bathrooms. He would just have to bear it. That was all he could do.
By the time night set in, most of the team had fallen as well. Those who weren’t still in the bathrooms were engaged in fitful sleep (Hinata kept whimpering even in unconsciousness, and poor Yachi couldn’t seem to stop hiccuping). The three healthy team members were taking a short but well-deserved break, just a few moments to catch their breath in between nursing their ailing teammates.
That’s when it happened.
The massive burp that burst out of Tsukishima without warning had the remaining healthy members of the Karasuno team spinning to face him with wide, astonished eyes. Pressing a fist to his lips, Tsukishima glared back at them all; but the damage had been done.
“Wow, Tsukishima,” remarked Sugawara. “That was a big one.”
If Tsukishima’s glare could kill, Sugawara would have been a dead man, Never one to be deterred, he pressed on.
“Really, are you okay? You don’t look good.”
“I’m fine,” Tsukishima shot back, before hiccuping again.
Sugawara was no fool; Sugawara had just spent the better part of his day nursing sick-as-dogs teammates. A quick glance between himself and Kiyoko brought them to the silent agreement that he should be the one to deal with this. He was the one who rose to his feet and moved across the room, crouching at Tsukishima’s side. “Come on,“ he urged, offering the boy a hand. At first he ignored it; but then a gurgle of his stomach made him cringe, and he didn’t hesitate to follow his upperclassman out the front doors.
By this point, the bathroom was condemned; and Suga got the sense that Tsukishima would rather be sick somewhere private. As the ailing boy sunk to his knees in the grass, Suga ran a hand up and down the sharp curve of his back. “It’s okay,” he soothed, as Tsukishima gave a small shudder. “It’s okay. There’s no shame in it, you’re sick.”
“Don’t want to –” The younger boy’s voice was trembling. “Really don’t want –auuURP.”
“You’ve been fighting it off all day, huh,” Sugawara asked, and Tsukishima nodded. He felt a flash of sympathy for the poor boy, who either out of hubris or stubbornness hadn’t been able to admit that he was ill.
Tsukishima jerked with a small heave, pressing a hand to his mouth; Sugawara guided it away. “Okay, just relax. It’s going to happen, just –”
With one sharp gag, Tsukishima lurched forward. A stream of thick bile spilled out onto the grass in front of him. By now, this was a familiar sight; Sugawara didn’t even cringe as he continued to rub the boy’s back, soothing him through the worst of his sickness.
Today, he decided, had been an utter nightmare.
He really hoped tomorrow would dawn brighter; he wasn’t sure he could take another day of playing nurse to an entire team full of ailing crows.
