Baachan’s Infamous Herbal Tonic

Akio woke to the shrill cry of his alarm, he groaned and slammed a hand over it. Morning sunlight already peeking through his curtains. He tossed off his blanket, and rubbed his face with both hands.

Still groggy, e padded down the hall to Amaya’s room, still dressed in the t-shirt and sweats he’d slept in. The door was slightly ajar.

Akio pushed it open quietly and peeked in. In the dim morning light, he could make out a lump on the bed wrapped in a tangle of sheets and a brightly patterned comforter. Amaya was completely cocooned except for a tuft of messy white hair poking out one end and a single bare foot sticking out the other.

Akio stepped inside, careful not to trip on the large duffel bag dumped by the foot of the bed.

With a soft sigh, he approached the bed.

“Amaya?” he whispered, pulling back the comforter to find her face. He touched the back of his hand lightly to her forehead. She was still warm, too warm. Her skin felt clammy against his fingers and she stirred faintly at his cool touch.

“Mmmh…” Amaya’s eyes cracked open a sliver, revealing a fever-bright gleam. She blinked at him in confusion. “Akio…? Wha’time izit…?” Her voice was groggy and hoarse.

“Early. Around six,” he replied softly. Her cheeks were flushed a deep pink, and damp strands of hair clung to her temples. Akio frowned in concern. The fever hadn’t broken yet. “Sorry to wake you. How are you feeling?”

Amaya scrunched her eyes shut as if to ward off the morning. “Feel fine,” she mumbled unconvincingly. The effect was ruined when a shiver visibly ran through her, and she instinctively burrowed deeper into her blanket cocoon. Only the top of her head and two narrowed eyes remained peeking out at him. “Jus’ cold.”

Akio crossed his arms, unimpressed, “You’re shivering because you have a fever.” Akio couldn’t help the gentle scolding tone. “Stay put. I’ll get the thermometer.” He moved to withdraw his hand, but a smaller, hot hand caught his wrist weakly.

“Don’… don’ fuss,” Amaya slurred, half-asleep. Despite her protest, her grip was feeble. “I’m okay. I can go to class—”

“Oh no you don’t,” he interjected quietly, easing her hand off his wrist and tucking it back under the covers. “You’re staying in bed. Tsukiji Circus School will survive one day without you.”

Amaya pouted, her lower lip jutting slightly. “But practice… gala…,” she murmured, already sounding less certain. Her eyelids drooped heavily, exhaustion pulling her back under.

Akio’s expression softened. Even now, sick as a dog, she was worrying about training for the upcoming corporate gala performance. He brushed a stray lock of hair off her forehead. “The only thing you’re practicing today is resting. That’s an order,” he said firmly.

“M’not… under your chain of command,” Amaya retorted drowsily. The comeback would’ve been sharper if it weren’t interrupted by a yawn.

He bit back a chuckle. Stubborn, even when she’s half dead. “Sleep. I’ll be right back,” he murmured.

Amaya was already fading, her eyes slipping shut as she gave a tiny nod. Satisfied she wasn’t about to ninja-roll out of bed the second he left, Akio hurried to the bathroom. He retrieved the digital thermometer from the medicine cabinet. On his way back, he detoured to the kitchen to put the kettle on.

If her fever hadn’t broken, she’d need fluids. And if she was going to stubbornly try to train again later, she’d need something strong to stop her.

Something like… Baachan’s infamous herbal tonic,

Within minutes, the small apartment filled with the slightly menacing aroma of herbs and roots. A half-filled pot on the stove bubbled ominously in a murky brown potion.

Akio’s nose wrinkled at the bitter smell that wafted up – a mix of ginger, ginseng, and a mystery root that only grew in Baachan’s garden.

The smell was nostalgic and traumatic at the same time. He remembered gagging on it as a child whenever he had a fever, but there was no denying its effectiveness. If it could knock him back to health, it would certainly help Amaya.

That is, if he could convince her to swallow any.

As the tonic bubbled, Akio swiftly began assembling everything Amaya might need for the day.

He had a system for times like this – one honed through years of caring for his own rather hapless mother during flu seasons, and more recently, for a reckless roommate who’d already gotten herself banged up a few times since moving in.

On the counter, he lined up three bento boxes and began filling them with rice, grilled chicken, and an assortment of cut vegetables.

Last night, in between checking on Amaya every hour, he’d marinated some chicken and chopped greens, anticipating that she might be out of commission today. Akio always planned ahead, even if that meant meal-prepping at midnight in his pyjamas.

One bento was for his lunch at the office, the second was for Amaya, to eat whenever she felt up to it, the last was for Declan or Naomi, depending on who’s available to babysit Amaya.

He portioned everything with care, even adding a little container of her favourite plum pickles to entice her appetite. She always picked them out first and ate them with a little happy dance.

While the rice cooker finished up, Akio double-checked their medicine stash. Fever reducers, check. Cough drops (just in case), check. Ointment for her blistered palms… He located the small tin of ointment on the dining table, exactly where he’d left it last night after treating her hands. Twisting the lid open, he scooped a bit onto his fingertip. Time for a re-application.

Back in Amaya’s room, she was dozing fitfully. Akio knelt beside the bed and gently unearthed one of her hands from the covers. Her palm was rough with fresh blisters along the base of her fingers, angry red circles from gripping the trapeze bar too long, too many “just one more tries.”

Akio’s brow furrowed in sympathy as he lightly spread the cooling ointment over the worst spots. Amaya hissed in her sleep and twitched, but didn’t fully wake.

“Sorry, sorry,” he whispered, blowing cool air over her palm to soothe the sting. Her hand relaxed in his after a moment, fingers unconsciously curling around his, like she knew it was his even in sleep. Heat rose to Akio’s cheeks at the sudden gesture, even unintended, the tiny show of trust made his heart skip.

He carefully placed her hand back under the blankets, pulling them snugly over her shoulder.

By the time he finished these tasks, the kettle was whistling. Akio hurried back to the kitchen to pour hot water into a thermos filled with the steeping herbs. The sharp, earthy scent intensified, and he coughed.

How did Baachan ever convince me to drink this swamp water? he wondered as he capped the thermos. Ah, right. She used to bribe him with sweet red bean paste afterward.

He should probably prepare some kind of chaser for Amaya too, a spoonful of honey to quell the bitterness? Chocolate? He made a mental note to throw in a peace offering. Preferably sugar-coated

Next, Akio scribbled a quick note on a notepad to leave on Amaya’s nightstand, just in case she woke up and he wasn’t around to hover or nag in person. He found himself underlining phrases and even adding little checkboxes for her to tick off. Satisfied, he propped the note where she’d see it:

Take your fever medicine (Pills are on the table – two after breakfast). Drink Baachan’s herbal tonic (In the thermos, please, at least try to finish it... for me?) Eat at least half your bento (in the fridge. Chicken, rice, and yes, your beloved pickles are in there). Reapply ointment on your palms by noon (the tin is right next to you. No excuses.). REST! No acrobatics, young lady.

He added a small doodle of a stern cartoon face next to the last point for emphasis. Reading it over, Akio chuckled to himself. “She’s totally going to call me a nag,” he muttered, but if it kept her in bed, he didn’t mind.

The final item on Akio’s morning agenda was arguably the most crcuial: reinforcements.

He washed his hands, then picked up his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he landed on Declan O'Brien.

The closest thing Amaya had to an older brother, and the only person as invested in her well-being (and equally exasperated by her stubborn streak) as Akio was.

If anyone could keep her from trapezing out the window with a fever of 38.5, it was Declan.

Akio’s backup option, and he used that term very loosely, was Naomi. But Naomi’s idea of "watching over Amaya" will most likely end with cartwheels on kitchen counters and glitter-based rituals involving hair dye and a Bluetooth speaker blasting ‘90s punk rock. Within twenty minutes, they’d be hanging from the ceiling, and Amaya would be drenched in glitter.

So please, Akio thought grimly, let Declan pick up.

Akio hit the call button and held the phone between ear and shoulder as he portioned the herbal tonic into a small cup to cool. The line rang a few times before a groggy voice answered.

“...’Lo?” came a muffled lilt on the other end. Declan sounded half-awake.

“It’s Akio. Sorry for calling so early,” Akio began in a low voice, stepping into the living area so as not to disturb Amaya. “Were you still asleep?”

There was a rustling sound, as if Declan was sitting up. “Nah, I was just… resting me eyes,” Declan replied, voice coming clearer.

He cleared his throat. “But go ahead. Who’s bleeding?”

“No one,” Akio replied calmly.

“On fire?”

“Not yet.”

Another pause on the line, then a knowing sigh.
“I’m guessing this is about your troublemaking roommate,” Declan said, voice clearer now. “How’s she doing? Fever go down yet?”

“She’s… about the same,” Akio replied, running a hand through his hair. “Still feverish. I gave her some medicine but she needs to stay in bed today. I have work, but I don’t want to leave her alone while she’s like this.”

“Aye, of course,” Declan said immediately, now fully alert. “Don’t you worry, mate. I’ll hop on over and babysit our little acrobat. Not like I can get any training done knowing she’s out of commission anyway.”

Akio found himself smiling in relief, tension he didn’t realize he’d been holding melting away. “Thank you. I owe you one. I know you’d rather be—”

“Shush. Family comes first, yeah?” Declan cut in, tone light but sincere. “I’ll be there in twenty. Need to find my keys … and, uh…Ah! Pants. Right. Those.”

Akio heard a clatter and a faint curse. “Alright. Door’ll be open. And, uh, I made extra lunch, so help yourself when you get here.”

“Oho, bribery by bento? You do know how to motivate me,” Declan teased. “I’ve heard tales of your cooking. Can’t wait to verify them. See you soon.”

They hung up just as Akio heard a soft call from the bedroom: “Akio…?”

He pocketed his phone and hurried back to Amaya.

She had roused again, one arm flopped out from her covers now. Her sleep-heavy eyes followed him as he entered. “You… goin’ to work?” she mumbled, noticing he was bustling around more dressed now, he’d quickly thrown on his usual work shirt and slacks after the call, though he hadn’t yet tucked in his shirt or done up his tie.

“In a bit,” he replied. “I was just getting everything ready for you.” He sat on the edge of her bed and showed her two small pills in his palm. “Here. Fever medicine.”

Amaya pushed herself up to a woozy half-sitting position, the blankets pooling around her waist. Akio immediately reached behind her, rearranging the pillows so she could lean back comfortably.

She was too groggy to protest, accepting the glass of water he offered and the pills. “Bossy…” she muttered, lips quirking faintly as she swallowed the tablets.

“Always,” he agreed with a faint smile. He handed her the little cup of cooled herbal tonic next. The liquid was an unholy shade of brownish-green.

Amaya sniffed it and made a face that would have been comical if she didn’t look so miserable. “What is that? It smells like… a bog monster’s laundry water.”

“It’s a restorative tonic. Family recipe. Promise it’ll help. Just a few sips.”

Amaya held the cup at arm’s length as if it might explode. “No way. Not happening. I’d rather drink sock water.” She wrinkled her nose and tried to hand it back, but Akio closed his hands around hers, coaxing the cup back toward her mouth.

“Amaya,” he said. “Don’t be difficult.”

“I’m not,” she grumbled, cheeks puffing in a stubborn pout. Nevertheless, she relented enough to bring the cup to her lips. “If I die from grossness, I’m haunting you. Forever. I’ll mess with your spreadsheets and unplug your router.” she warned, then tipped a tiny sip into her mouth.

Her eyes bulged dramatically. “Bleeegh!” She almost spat it out, but Akio swiftly tilted the cup so she had to swallow or risk spilling it all over her blankets. She gulped it down with a shudder. “Oh god,” she wheezed, thrusting the cup back at him. “That’s… that’s evil.”

Akio bit back a laugh at her betrayed expression. “Yes, it’s not exactly strawberry milk. But it works.” He offered her a wrapped candy from his pocket – a strawberry milk candy, coincidentally – which she snatched and popped into her mouth to erase the taste. Her shoulders relaxed slightly as the sweetness spread.

“Declan’s coming over to keep you company while I’m out,” he said as he helped ease her back down against the pillows.

Amaya’s eyes widened in surprise. “Declan is? You called Declan?”

“Of course. I’m not about to leave you unsupervised with a high fever and a known track record of disobedience.” He busied himself tucking the blankets snug around her again, partly to avoid her gaze if she objected. “He’ll be here soon. And I left you a note with instructions.”

She let out a weak chuckle that turned into a cough. “A note? What am I, on house arrest? Going to tie me to the bed too?”

“If necessary, don’t tempt me.”

Amaya gave a breathy laugh, eyes half-lidded again. “You’re ridiculous,” she murmured, but there was a grateful note beneath her teasing.

Her eyes drifted shut again, the small effort of sitting and talking already draining her. Akio gave in to the urge that had been tugging at him all morning, he reached out and gently brushed the stray strands of snowy hair from her forehead, fingers threading lightly through the tangled white strands. “Get some rest,” he said gently. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Amaya was already asleep, candy still dissolving in her cheek. Akio stood and quietly gathered the cup and thermos. He placed the full thermos of tonic on her nightstand, next to the note and a flask of water, then tiptoed out, closing the door most of the way.

In the living room, he hastily finished getting ready for work: tucking in his shirt, knotting his tie, and grabbing his briefcase and bento. As promised, he left the door unlocked, and right on cue, a familiar ginger-haired man let himself in barely ten minutes after their call.

Declan strode into the entryway; he kicked off his large sneakers and grinned at Akio. “Morning, Prince Charming. How’s our royal highness?”

Akio’s jaw tightened slightly. He could feel the heat creeping up his neck. Of course, Declan would bring up yesterday’s dramatic exit, where Amaya had loudly referred to him as “Prince Charming” while he carried her out. And of course, everyone at the circus school now knew about it. Gossip spread there faster than glitter in a fan.

“Good morning,” Akio replied wryly. “She’s still in bed, fever hanging on. She’s all yours for the day.”

“Roger that. Nurse Declan, reporting for duty.” He hefted a small backpack he’d brought. “I’ve got some DVDs, electrolyte drinks, and a few oranges, gotta keep the scurvy at bay. I take my job very seriously.” He winked.

Akio couldn’t help a small chuckle. As irritating as Declan could be, he already felt worlds better knowing Declan’s jovial presence would be here to keep Amaya’s spirits up.

“Great. And here—” He gestured to the kitchen counter where the spare bento lunch sat neatly wrapped in a cloth. “As promised, lunch. There’s tea in the pot as well if you want.”

Declan clasped a hand to his chest theatrically. “A man could fall in love with you on cooking skills alone, you know.”

Akio rolled his eyes, though a smile tugged at his lips. “Just feed Amaya too, please. She’ll pretend she’s not hungry, but try to get her to eat.”

Declan nodded seriously. “I will. Don’t worry. I’ve handled plenty of feverish circus brats in my time.” He sobered for a moment, lowering his voice. “And hey… thanks for being there for her yesterday. Naomi told me what happened, and I know Amaya can be… difficult.”

“She wasn’t that difficult,” Akio lied.

Declan raised a brow.

“…Okay, maybe she was,” Akio admitted. “But she was scared and just hiding it behind all that stubborn.”

“Aye. That she does.” Declan’s gaze was fond and protective. Then the moment passed and he shooed Akio toward the door. “Go on, off with ya! Go be a responsible adult or whatever it is you salarymen do. I’ll make sure she stays put and doesn’t launch herself out a window or something.”

Akio snorted. “I wouldn’t put it past her. Good luck.” He slipped on his shoes and grabbed his umbrella (it looked a bit cloudy out). “Call me if anything changes, okay? I’ll try to come home early.”

Declan waved him off breezily. “We’ll be grand. If she sprouts wings or breathes fire, you’ll be the first to know.”

With that reassuring-yet-bizarre image burned into his brain, Akio finally left the apartment, heart at ease. 

Amaya was in good hands. 

Weird hands, but good hands all the same.