Shuichi Hayashi stood in the cramped kitchen, a bundle of green onions in hand, his brow furrowed with exasperation. "Eri, you're making a mountain out of a molehill, aren't you?" he said, stepping toward Hiiro Eri with purpose. "You're practically coughing up a storm, and you're still fussing over this?"
"No way am I touching those green onions! Toss them out!" Eri rasped, retreating step by step until her back hit the wall.
"No dice. Green onions are a killer remedy for colds," Shuichi insisted, his tone equal parts firm and coaxing. "Just try it, and you'll be back to normal in no time."
"Absolutely not!" Eri shot back.
She darted to escape, but Shuichi was faster. With a quick step, he leaned in, trapping her in a playful kabedon against the wall, his arm barring her way.
"Eri, a cold might seem minor," he said, his voice turning grave, "but let it linger, and it could turn into something serious."
"…I get it," Eri mumbled, her defiance wilting under his gaze. "But does it have to be green onions? I—I can just pop some pills, you know."
"Pills are fine, but green onions supercharge the recovery," Shuichi said with confidence. "I used to knock out my colds like this all the time."
"You? All the time?" Eri's eyes widened, incredulous. "No way! We've been friends forever, and I've never seen you sick. How could you 'always' do… that?"
"I'm not pulling your leg," Shuichi said, his sincerity unwavering. "This trick really works."
"Then… can I handle it myself?" Eri's face flushed a deeper red, her voice barely above a whisper, laced with embarrassment.
"You?" Shuichi snorted, a grin tugging at his lips. "If you try, you'll probably poison yourself."
"Poison? From green onions?" Eri blinked, stunned.
Shuichi stood his ground, his face now close enough for Eri to feel the warmth of his presence. Her fever-flushed cheeks burned brighter, and after a tense pause, she bit her lip, her expression a mix of resignation and indignation.
"Fine! Just this once," she huffed, glaring. "But if this doesn't work, Shuichi, I'll make you regret it!"
With a dramatic sigh, Eri turned, pressing her face into her arms against the wall, her posture stiff and oddly exaggerated, hips slightly raised. Shuichi stared, utterly baffled. "What are you even doing?"
Her cheeks practically incandescent, Eri's voice came out as a mortified squeak. "I—I thought you meant… with the green onions…"
With the green onions? Shuichi glanced at the bundle in his hand, piecing it together. He was just planning to whip up some green onion and ginger water. Why was she posing like a spooked ostrich, hiding her face and sticking out her backside?
"They're not even cooked yet," he said, struggling to keep a straight face. "You're not thinking of chomping them raw, are you? These onions aren't too spicy, but the texture—"
"Eat?" Eri's voice spiked, cutting him off. "Wait—you don't mean… stick them there?"
"Of course you eat them!" Shuichi nodded, gesturing to the ingredients. "I got ginger, too. Boil them together, and it helps you sweat out a cold. Works like a charm for chills… Hold on, what did you just say? Stick them—"
His eyes flicked downward, and the realization hit.
"Pfft—hahaha!" Shuichi doubled over, clutching his stomach as laughter roared out. "You thought I was going to… cure your cold by sticking green onions up your—hahaha!"
"Shuichi Hayashi, drop dead!" Eri shoved past her childhood friend, tears of humiliation welling in her eyes as she fled to her bedroom. She dove onto the bed, yanking the covers over her head, cocooning herself in shame.
Ugh, I'm such an idiot! she wailed inwardly. He's a whiz in the kitchen—of course the green onions were for cooking!
How had she jumped to that conclusion? She was never going to live this down.
Mortified, Eri burrowed deeper into the blankets, rolling restlessly like a caterpillar, her embarrassment practically seeping through the fabric.
Outside the bedroom, Shuichi finally reined in his laughter. Rubbing his sore stomach, he headed to the kitchen to prepare the green onion and ginger water for Eri.
Her disheveled hair and groggy demeanor earlier screamed "skipped breakfast." Shuichi scooped rice into a pot, added water, and set it to simmer. Then, he washed a few apples, diced them into small chunks, and tossed them in. Fruit porridge was easy to digest and packed with vitamins—perfect for helping her bounce back.
Once the green onion-ginger water and fruit porridge were ready, Shuichi carried them to Eri's bedroom door. "Eri, porridge and ginger water's done. Get up and eat before they cool off—they won't work as well cold."
Silence from the room. He nudged the door open, setting the steaming bowls on her desk. Eri was still entombed in her blanket fortress, barely visible.
"You're not gonna suffocate in there, are you?" Shuichi teased, eyeing the cocoon.
The caterpillar rolled from the bed's center to the wall, mute.
"No answer, huh?" He suppressed a grin. "Fine, I'll head out. But if Kogoro asks how your cold's doing, I'll just say you cured it by sticking green onions up your—"
"Stop laughing!" Eri's muffled, furious voice erupted from the blankets. "If you breathe a word of this to anyone, I'm done with you, Shuichi!"
"Alright, alright. Come out, drink the porridge and ginger water, and I swear this stays between us," Shuichi said, a sly smirk creeping onto his face. "But if you don't…"
Before he could finish, Eri emerged from her cocoon, face scarlet, eyes averted. "Fine, I'll drink it."
The green onion-ginger water wasn't exactly a delicacy. Eri took a sip and grimaced. "This tastes awful. Can't I add some sugar?"
"No way," Shuichi shook his head firmly. "Sugar might make your cough worse."
"But it's undrinkable like this!" Eri pouted, slipping into a familiar, almost childish whine.
The moment the words left her lips, she froze, cheeks blazing. She ducked her head, avoiding his gaze.
Shuichi didn't poke fun this time. Instead, a wistful smile softened his features. "Back in kindergarten and elementary school, you used to whine to me like that all the time. But once we hit junior high, you started keeping your distance."
"…Back then, you were always looking out for me and Kogoro," Eri murmured, her voice barely audible. "I saw you as my big brother, so of course I could act spoiled. But now we're older… things are different."
"Different how?" Shuichi chuckled, reaching out to ruffle her hair. "You're still my little sister—"
Smack!
Eri swatted his hand away, glaring. "I'm not a kid anymore!"
"Okay, okay, not a kid," Shuichi conceded, raising his hands as her temper flared. He glanced at the bed, noticing the damp sheets—likely from her feverish sweating. "Go crash in the guest room for now. This room needs airing out, and I'll take the bedding to the balcony to dry."
"Got it," Eri grumbled, a hint of irritation in her tone. "You're so bossy."
After the commotion, the feverish girl was visibly drained. She forced down the ginger water and porridge, swallowed some cold medicine, and shuffled toward the guest room as Shuichi suggested.
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