Fever Dream

“38.9 Celsius… Looks like you’re staying home today.”

Haru groaned as the thermometer left his mouth. Even with his eyes closed and senses muddled, he could tell who it was beside him.

“I’ll be fine, mom. Just go to work and let me rest.”

All he got in response was a cool towel on his forehead. Gentle steps trailed away before the door clicked shut. A whiff of rice porridge hit his nose, no doubt left there to provide something for his empty stomach.

Haru grumbled as he propped himself up and peeked with one eye, confirming the steaming bowl of mush on the table next to him. Letting a spoonful of it slide into his mouth, the warmth soon spread within him, a bit of comfort to his predicament.

He chided himself for thinking that his outing with Grace could have led to this, even for a moment. A dream didn’t cause colds, no matter how realistic it felt. Rather, he only had himself to blame.

The previous night slowly came back to him. He blew through his reserve energy and fell asleep on the ground. And then, he hastily showered and threw himself into bed before drying off properly. The damp bedding that he awoke to likely gave him the chills as he slumbered.

He had gone overboard over some silly fascination to please Grace, a person that didn’t even exist.

But then again, he tended to do so over the silliest of reasons.

Like when he just wanted to finish an achievement in a game he was playing before he lost focus. Or when a catchy tune floated in his head, and he had to reproduce it on his guitar.

Hours flew by, until eventually, he would nod off, the controller or instrument in his hand carelessly dropping from his grip.

No, self-gratification with his imaginary friend is no worse, he told himself.

But then, a few coughs racked his body, making him think otherwise.

I’ll just sleep on it. Ignore how icky I feel.

It didn’t take long for him to realize that lucid dreaming was probably the worst thing he could do under a fever.

He suddenly found himself bouncing around on unstable ground, his sense of perception and balance completely lost. His body lurched back and forth until his feet slipped, and he was sent tumbling. His face crashed into solid ground.

But still, the swaying didn’t stop. Rather, Haru continued to bounce from surface to surface, the springiness of jelly against his body. Every so often, his surroundings shook violently; coughing was disrupting his sleep as well.

Haru felt uncomfortable enough that he hoped to wake up. The vertigo was causing a mild case of nausea, but throwing up wouldn’t bring the relief it would in reality. This was constant. Since any perception of time was distorted in a dream, the torture could be over in moments or last for an eternity.

“Grab my hand!”

Haru heard a voice, but he was too disoriented to look where it came from. All he could manage was to raise his arm high, in hopes of making contact somehow.

A moment later, skin contacted skin with a slap, and a firm grip drew him up like a crane game finding its prize. He was left dangling in the air, but it was preferable to becoming tossed salad. Haru closed his eyes, letting his body pass through the fluffy clouds. A cool sensation showered him with each one, enough to remedy the sickness from before.

“Thanks, Grace. It feels much better up here.”

“Quite an unexpected visit. So soon after we just parted,” Grace giggled, happy to see him regardless.

“Yeah, well…what the hell are you wearing?”

Haru looked up to see Grace in a white dress that clung to her body down to the thighs, kneesocks running down the rest of her legs. A white cap with a big red cross sat on her head, and a stethoscope dangled around her neck. Basically, Grace was wearing a nurse uniform. Haru sighed, knowing that he asked a rhetorical question. He only had himself to blame.

Haru told her how he had caught a cold and was resting at home. Hearing that, Grace found a large cloud in the sky to set him down upon. At this point, Haru stopped questioning why some clouds were solid and just gave in to the magic of the situation.

His body shivered. He dropped to his knees. Even in his dream, he felt weak. It was clear to Grace that he was not in the mood for any of their normal, fun outings.

“Sorry to be such a, whoa-”

“Shhh, resting is an important part of having fun. We’ll have plenty of opportunities when you are well again.”

Haru would have been fine with that comment… if his head wasn’t firmly wedged on the crack of her thighs. He marveled at how Grace could just do that, or rather, how his mind would wish so simply for such a lap pillow scene. But all his objections became mute as Grace started singing to him.

It was not any song that he recalled, nothing trendy or memorable, but a warm glow soon enveloped him. He looked up at her gentle eyes, sending soothing vibes. His gaze traced her vibrant cheeks and ended at her soft lips, and a hand reached up toward them. But like a baby hearing a lullaby, his eyelids soon grew heavy.

Even if it was a dream, he wanted to touch them. With his hand, with his lip-

Haru’s eyes popped open. He stared at the familiar ceiling of his room, and then, to the clock beside his bed. It was well past noon. Hours had flown by in slumber.

Sitting up, the damp towel on his forehead fell into his lap. It was still strangely cool. Feeling his face, he noted a lack of heat radiating like before. His thoughts had regained their sharpness. The fever had finally broken.

He thought about the dream that he had awoken from, and he leapt out of bed to reach for his guitar. For a little while, he strummed at random notes, reconstructing that melody as best he could. Bits and pieces. The rest forgotten and misjudged.

He didn’t want to let it go. He didn’t want to lose it. It was proof of his time spent with Grace. Just like how he brought reality into his dreams, he wouldn’t deny the chance to bring a piece of Grace into reality.

After nearly half an hour, Haru strung together a melody that felt somewhat alike. He closed his eyes and pictured Grace next to him, singing along. But static accompanied his imagination. His notes weren’t yet crisp enough.

The door clicked open, making Haru nearly jump out of his skin.

“I thought I heard you up. How are you feeling?”

“M-Mom?! What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at work?”

It only took a moment for Haru to realize the answer to his question. His mother came in with a telltale sign of remote work for the day – a dress shirt and lab coat on, but pajama pants below that.

“Nothing was required of me in the lab. Just half-presentable for the laptop camera.”

Haru shrugged off his mother’s excuse to half-adult and looked back at the damp towel on his bed. The bowl of porridge had been cleaned up as well and a bottle of medicine had replaced it. The relief that he found midway through his dream had come from actual nursing.

I feel like such an idiot now, but still, that couldn’t have explained ‘everything’ that Grace did, could it?

Subtle things done to him while half-asleep had a pronounced impact on his dreams. But one part of his dream went unexplained.

“Hey, mom. Does this melody ring any bells?”

Haru strummed his guitar, holding the lump in his throat in hopes that it wasn’t yet another fluke. After a few bars, his mother shook her head.

“Nope, can’t say I do. If you are feeling well enough for that, then I’ll head back to work. Your father is waiting on a report. Data that I’m in charge of. Ideas to churn and burn.”

Haru waited for his mother to leave the room before he pumped his fist in victory. He walked over to his window to stare outside. It was still mid-afternoon, too late to go to school, but not to do something else.

He looked back to his room, and suddenly, his heart pounded in his ears. The melody was fresh in his hearing, but along with that, the memory of what came to his mind before waking.

I wanted to ki-

“Argh!!! That’s it! I really need to go touch grass!” Haru exclaimed, changing in a hurry before storming out of his room.