Jishin Da! -- Angel and Shiro

[x-firestar.livejournal.com]

Shiro is still under the weather and Angel randomly finds him in town.



Shiro strode proudly out of the massive skyscraper that housed Silver Samurai, Inc. For values of "stride" that equal "walked slowly and stiffly so he wouldn't collapse on his face." He'd finally begun to feel better after his post-Thanksgiving disease, but it seemed to return just as quickly as it came. That he'd made it through an entire meeting with Harada and his lawyers and financial advisers was nothing short of miraculous.

The streets of Shibuya were packed with salarymen speaking rapidly on their mobiles and young, rich women doing much the same. Shiro tried to keep his breadth and not push through the crowds, but was so disoriented that he found himself pushed into the subway. He managed to extricate himself at Harajuku and soon made his way to the Meiji Shrine. He sighed. Maybe some meditation would help.

"Shiro? Hey, Shiro, say che—wow, you look like death." Angel popped up out of seemingly nowhere – a good trick for a redhead on Redbull – and frowned at him. He really did look awful, all pale and sickly. Ew. She dropped her camera back around her neck since there was no use in blinding him along with whatever was actually wrong. "Dude, is your cold acting up again? Too bad we can't just burn it out of our systems…" She gave him a curious look as she grabbed his arm and shuffled him out of the way of a large group. "We can't, can we?"

He let himself be pulled away, and frustratedly loosened his tie. "I have never done it," he said hoarsely. He managed to get his fingers stuck in the loop and growled a curse. He finally managed to pull it off, and angrily tossed it away and vaporized it.

She really hoped that hadn't been a tie he'd liked or anything. "Bad place to try, anyway," Angel replied before shoving a bag of purchases towards him. "Hold that, I might have something in here…" She began to pat various pockets on her jacket and pants, rummaging through them frantically. Several things fell out while she continued, including a small notepad, a necklace, a lollipop and some small stuffed animal that she had picked up from somewhere. "Aha!" Angel beamed as she produced a thing of aspirin. "This stuff might help a little bit but then we should try to get you something to clear you out, okay?"

"I am already pretty well stocked." Out of Shiro's pockets came a package of aspirin, another of ibuprofen, a spray bottle of Afrin, a small bag of throat lozenges, and a tiny bottle of Robitussin. "I am single-handedly keeping the cold remedy industry in business. But thank you."

"Good grief, Shiro, how are you still sick with all of that? I'd feel your forehead or something but it's not like I could actually tell anymore." Angel quickly shoveled everything back in her pockets and then looked up at him, looking in turn concerned, confused and determined. "Is there anything that I can, you know, actually do?"

"Dani asked me the same thing." Shiro took out a tissue from his pocket and blew his nose. It caught fire and quickly disintegrated. "I told her to invent stem cell therapy. But never mind. It is not as though I have never been ill before. It's like when my powers returned."

Angel wrinkled her nose at the small streaks of flame. Ew, booger-laced fire, nasty. "So, we can't try the burning yourself out thing -- wanna try spicy food? Every time I got sick, dad used to shovel hot, burning spices down my throat to get rid of the sniffles."

"I suppose I could try snorting wasabi," he mused. "That is not a remedy that has occurred to me yet. Either I may breathe again, or I will have to hunt you down and put you on a spit for suggesting it."

“But I’m too cute to spit! And I meant more eating it but if you want to snort green spicy stuff up your nostrils, buddy, that’s all you. I, on the other hand, shall ingest until I explode!”