Lemon Incest c13

But despite my wishes, my fever had gotten higher. I measured my temperature after being pressured to do so by him, and when I saw that my fever was at 38.3, I had no choice but to let down my defences. I struggled just sitting up right on the sofa.

I told him this before heading to my bedroom and changing into my pyjamas. The dry feeling of the cloth on my skin felt unusually cold, and I felt goosebumps rising on my skin.

I slipped under the covers, and as I lay there on my back with my arm pressed against my cheek, there was a knocking on my door. The door opened a crack, and I saw him peering in. His face was illuminated from the light in the hallway.

“There’s no way you’re fine. I’ll go and buy you some medicine. I’m sure there must be a pharmacy open around here somewhere.”

“This room’s so cold. I’ll turn the air conditioner on for you.”

He felt around the wall for the switch, and before I could say, “don’t turn on the light!” bright light filled the room and it felt as if daggers were in my eyes. I immediately brought the thin blanket over my head to protect myself from the light.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll turn it off as soon as I turn on the air conditioner…”

In the next instant, the light was turned off, and darkness once again settled in the room. I lowered the blanket from my face and looked up at him. He was standing at the edge of my bed, and he was gazing down at me.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Because if you do that, you’re going to catch my cold.”

“I’m flattered that you’d say that, but it’s still a no. You should just go on home.”

“It’s just a common cold. It’s not as if I’m going to die.”

“There’s nothing.”

“No thanks.”

“I don’t need anything, really.” And with that, I turned around so that my back was facing him.

I wondered if I would be able to resist him if he suddenly came and slipped under the covers. If I felt his warmth pressing against my back and his hand eventually reaching around to wrap me in an embrace as he kissed me on the back of my neck… what then?

On that day, I had called Muda to tell him I was taking the day off work because I caught a cold. That night, he came to visit me saying he came to see how I was doing. And although I told him I didn’t need anything, he had gone to the kitchen and made me an egg and green onion soup and brought it over to my bedroom.

Even though I hadn’t asked for it, the warmth of his body felt comforting. It felt as if I was in a warm coccoon, and as I began to drift off I felt him gently beginning to caress my hips and breasts as if he were waiting for this moment.

I kept saying “no,” but with time, the heat from the fever turned into a strange kind of pleasure. He threw my pyjama bottoms which he had slipped off me onto the foot of the bed. At that point, I had given up trying to resist and let him do as he wanted.

I thought, “I have to ask him to do something.” It was because I felt that if I let silence wrap itself around me like this, something irreparable might end up happening.

I turned onto my back and said as I coughed. “There’s an ice bag in the cabinet above the bathroom sink. It’s in a blue cloth bag. Could you take it out, put some ice from the freezer in it, and bring it to me? Oh, and some Halcion too. They should be in the cabinet; it’s inside a blue pill box. Oh, and one more thing. Having the air conditioner on makes the room overly dry so it hurts my throat. Do you see that humidifier over there? Could you put a cup full of water in it and turn it on?”

He took out the water case from the humidifier and left the room. I sensed him moving about from afar. The sound of him entering the bathroom, the rattling sound of him opening and closing drawers, the sound of his footsteps as he headed to the kitchen, the opening of the freezer, the sound of water running…

I thought: I want this person to stay by my side. He didn’t even have to do anything, as long as he remained under the same roof as me. He was the one I wanted by my side more than any other person; I didn’t need anyone or anything else.

“That feels nice,” I sighed. “But before that, could you get me some Halcion? I’ll take some right now if you have it.”

“I wouldn’t mind taking a hundred if it meant that I could get a good night’s rest, but if I did that, I’m pretty sure I won’t wake up the next morning.”

I was careful not to let the sparks fly when my eyes met his. I put on a face as if I felt unbelievably sick, and I took the Halcion pill that he held out to me along with some water. With that, I let my head fall back onto the pillow and reached over to place the ice bag on my forehead again.

“I’ll turn the humidifier on, okay?”

I heard the switch being turned on, along with the swish-swish sound of steam being released from the machine.

The ice-bag covered both my eyes, so I couldn’t see anything. The only thing I could see through the thin fibres of the towel was the yellow light from the side lamp.

“Is it all right if I stay here?”

“I won’t make a noise. I’ll just stay still.”

“Feel free to fall asleep if you get sleepy.”

I was wrapped in a feeling of warmth, and before I knew it, I had reached out to hold my hand out in his direction.

“What?”

I couldn’t see him. Even if I did open my eyes, all I would be able to see was the white cloth of the towel. My vision was filled with the white of the towel as I sensed his hand slipping into mine.

“Hey, talk about something.”

“I’m fine.”

“Anything.”

I laughed, although my laugh was a hoarse one. “It doesn’t matter. Anything will do.”

“Hey, say something. I was planning on using your voice like a lullaby.”

I didn’t say anything, so several moments later he asked, “Is this okay? If you don’t want to hear this kind of story, I’ll stop.”

“I want to hear more,” I said. “Please, continue.”

“Even now, I remember her kindness. Knowing what I do now, her kindness probably stemmed from the guilt she held; and yet, there was no denying she was kind. Her kindness had a bit of an artificiality to it… a kind of unnaturalness to it, but I can’t count the number of times I felt a feeling of calm wash over me when she held my hand like this whenever I was sick. ‘Mother….’ Oh, that’s right… that’s what I used to call her… whenever I would call out for her, she would respond to me from somewhere close by and she would ask, ‘what is it?’ Then, I would say ‘Mother…’ again. She would again respond, ‘what is it?’. It was a repetition of that… a cycle that never ended.”

A short while later, he continued: “I’m not talking about this now because I’m feeling nostalgic over the memories of her. ‘It’s who raised you that counts’…I’m not trying to say something stupid like that. I’m not the type to indulge in sentimentality, it’s been that way since I was a kid. It’s just… holding your hand like this when you’re down with a cold made me think back to it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not really sure… I wasn’t really any of those. The only thing I can say is, I wasn’t your everyday child.”

“Because I was always thinking of death.”

As I heard the soft swish of the humidifier, I said, “Is that…”

“Back then, it wasn’t that I was thinking of suicide or anything concrete like that. What I can say was, I was a child who wasn’t afraid of death. Even at the tender age of nine or ten, I had this idea that death was a solace. It’s strange. It’s only now that I realize it, but I have a feeling that since I was a child, I had this gut instinct about my earlier years. There was a part of me that had this feeling that knew I wasn’t blessed from birth.

And yet, I wouldn’t describe myself to be the goody-two-shoes type. I got myself into trouble, and there were times I even got into fights. My mother… no, there were times when that person would get called out to the school for something I did. In that regards, I guess I was just like any other kid.”

“Well, that’s probably part of the reason, but I think it’s probably the case that the reason can’t be placed on something concrete like that. I can’t really find the right words to say it… when it comes right down to it… even though I’m someone who’s lived his life looking forward, there was also always a part of me that didn’t really care what happened to me.

It’s true that this was all things I realized after I found out about the truth from Misao-san, and it was something I didn’t notice when I was in the eye of the storm, but like I told you earlier, I have a feeling that ever since I saw the light of day for the first time, I knew that the luck allotted to me was overwhelmingly less than that of your average person. And it’s not just that my life could be summed up by simply describing it as a ‘life without luck’ either. It’s not that… I don’t know how to put it… if there was a decided amount of happiness in life for every person born on this earth, it’s as if, in my case, that amount was insubstantial from the very beginning, and I was born into this world knowing that fact.”

“Mio-san,” he whispered.

“For me, the biggest misfortune in my life is right here in front of me. The first woman I ever fell in love with, and with whom I thought I could start my life anew with… was someone who shared the same blood as me. … I don’t care if the amount of happiness allotted to me is small. I have the confidence to live my life in any way shape or form… to put it another way, I have the confidence to say I’m fine with dying at any moment, even though I know it’s a strange way to put it. But… this… just this makes me want to curse God.

I wanted to say something. I wanted to say something that would ease his pain, something that would allow us to overcome this suffering so that we could both lead an honest life… I knew that, and yet, perhaps it was because of the fever, but the medicine was beginning to take effect, and I was helpless but to given in to it…
I had begun to open my mouth to say something, but I closed it before any words came out. In that instant, I felt my consciousness drift, and everything from the feeling of his hand holding mine to the low voice that continued to talk melted into the swish-swish sound of the humidifier as sleep overcame me.

Chapter end