Chapter 9: — "Slime Care 101"

The world felt heavy when I woke up.
My head throbbed like a dull drum, and every inhale scraped against my throat like sandpaper. My nose refused to cooperate, switching between “completely clogged” and “flood warning.”

“Ugh…” I croaked, dragging myself upright. The room spun a little, and I caught sight of the clock. 9:42 a.m. Way past the time I was supposed to leave for school.

“Well,” I mumbled, sinking back into the couch, “I guess that’s not happening today.”

A soft squish came from beside my pillow. Then another.

Two familiar shapes peeked over the blanket’s edge, one glossy pink blob, one tiny blue bubble.

“Poyo?”
“Mochi?”

They blinked up at me in perfect synchronization, little eyes gleaming with concern. Mochi gave a soft, trembling hum, while Poyo tilted slightly to the side as if trying to read my temperature through sheer confusion.

“I’m fine,” I said, even though my voice cracked halfway through. “Just a cold, I think.”

Poyo let out an indignant poyooo! as if disagreeing. Mochi pressed closer to my arm, leaving a faint coolness on my skin.

“You two look worried,” I whispered, smiling despite how awful I felt. “Don’t worry. I’ll be okay.”

About ten minutes later, I realized I’d made a mistake telling them that.

Because “don’t worry” apparently translated to “go make chaos in the kitchen.”

From my couch, I could hear the faint sound of Poyo hopping off the counter, a soft plop followed by the unmistakable rattle of spoons. Then something metallic clanged against the floor.

“Oh no,” I muttered. “They’re cooking.”

Dragging myself up, I shuffled toward the kitchen. My head swayed with every step, but curiosity (and mild dread) kept me going.

When I turned the corner, I nearly screamed in shock.

The scene before me looked like a tiny, pastel crime scene.

Poyo had somehow managed to get the sugar jar open, the lid was rolling across the floor, and was now gleefully hopping in a small puddle of what looked like tea. Mochi sat nearby, a wooden spoon stuck halfway into its slimey body, staring blankly at the kettle like it was the most complicated puzzle in the world.

“What… are you two doing?” I asked, voice raspy.

Poyo froze mid-bounce, then made a guilty poy...yo? sound. Mochi wobbled nervously, lowering itself as if trying to hide behind the spoon.

"Mmm..." It mumbled nervously, with a hint of guilt.

I leaned against the counter, too tired to scold them. “You were trying to make tea for me, weren’t you?”

Poyo brightened, letting out an excited squeak. Mochi nodded shyly, the tiniest shimmer rippling through its blue surface.

Something warm fluttered in my chest. I covered my mouth to hide a weak laugh.

“Okay, points for effort,” I said, patting Poyo gently. It wobbled proudly, still half-covered in sugar crystals. “But maybe… let me handle the boiling water part, yeah?”

Poyo responded with a happy poyoo! that probably meant, I did great!

—

By noon, I’d accepted that “resting” wasn’t in the cards today.

Every time I laid down, one of them would come check on me. Mochi brought random things from the apartment like gifts, (AKA a tissue box...), a stray coin, a piece of candy, socks from my drawer, etc. Poyo, meanwhile, took a more direct approach: hopping onto the couch, planting itself squarely on my stomach, and vibrating in place like it was trying to “heal” me through osmosis.

“Poyo,” I said through a groan, “you’re not a heating pad.”

It chirped proudly anyway.

And... I gave up arguing.

The room smelled faintly of lemon and tea now, and the slimes’ soft, rhythmic squelches filled the quiet apartment. The kind of domestic chaos that would normally exhaust me… but right now, it just made me feel less alone.

“...Thanks, you two,” I murmured, eyes fluttering half-closed.

Poyo made a soft poy~, and Mochi hummed in agreement.

Later, when I woke up from my nap again, the light outside had dimmed to a sleepy orange. My fever had broken slightly, I could tell because my head didn’t feel like it was floating anymore. I shifted and realized something heavy and cool was resting on my forehead.

“Wha—”

I blinked and met two wide, curious eyes staring right back.

Poyo was perched delicately on my head like a sentient ice pack, humming softly.

“...Are you…?” I started, then sighed with a small laugh. “Did you just try to lower my fever?”

It blinked once. Then proudly puffed up, as if to say Yes. I’m a doctor now mama!

“Oh my god,” I muttered, smiling. “You ridiculous little thing.”

Mochi peeked over the edge of the couch, holding something between its jelly-like edges, a crumpled candy wrapper. It dropped it onto my pillow with a tiny squeak, like a nurse delivering medicine.

I couldn’t even pretend to be mad. My chest tightened, but in a good way.

“You guys really… do care, huh?” I whispered.

Poyo chirped softly. Mochi hummed again, and for a brief second, I thought I saw them both glow just slightly brighter. Maybe it was just the sunset light, but… it felt warm.

As I had enough energy to sit up, I shuffled into the kitchen again. Poyo and Mochi followed, bouncing softly behind me.

“Alright, team,” I said hoarsely, “I think it’s time for round two of actual tea. The non-sugar puddle kind.”

They both perked up.

As I moved through the motions, boiling water, measuring tea leaves, pouring slowly into a chipped mug, I could feel their eyes on me, full of awe like I was performing ancient magic.

“You know,” I said quietly, stirring the tea, “you don’t have to take care of me. I’m supposed to be the one looking after you two.”

Poyo made a quick poy! sound, indignant. Mochi’s body rippled in a silent protest.

“Fine... fine,” I chuckled, “I know. You’re my little helpers now...”

When I sat down at the table, they hopped onto the surface, watching as I sipped the steaming drink. The warmth slid down my throat, easing the soreness bit by bit. I exhaled a long, satisfied sigh.

Mochi wobbled closer, pressing gently against my arm. Poyo squished itself near the mug, its body faintly warm from the residual heat.

“This is nice,” I murmured.

Outside, the sky deepened into evening blues. The apartment glowed softly, the lights warm against the growing chill. Everything felt quiet, suspended. For once, I wasn’t thinking about overdue bills or classes or my mother’s silence. Just this, tea, two slimes, and the simple comfort of being cared for.

I caught my reflection in the window, faint and tired but smiling.

“Guess I’m not as alone as I thought,” I whispered.

It was late when I finally settled back into bed. The fever had almost vanished completely, replaced by a calm kind of exhaustion. Poyo and Mochi were already curled near my pillow, half-asleep, their surfaces pulsing in slow, steady rhythms.

“Hey,” I said softly, pulling the blanket up, “thank you. For today.”

Mochi stirred slightly, letting out a drowsy mochi.... Poyo twitched once, then made a sleepy poy~.

I smiled. “You two are terrible nurses,” I added, “but you’re… pretty good company.”

Their soft hums were the last sound I heard before my eyes drifted shut.

The apartment was still, save for the faint hum of the heater and the rhythmic breathing of two tiny, loyal blobs.