Tanaka felt as if he was drowning. Not the kind of drowning where water filled up his lungs, but the type where the air was heavy and gravity was trying to sink him into the ground. He couldn't breathe but at the same time, he felt as if he was choking from the very air, creating a lump in his chest to block off his airways.

It was unbearably hot as well, but it was not the burning type of hot that made his skin feel like ember and ashes. It was as if someone had stuffed him in a sauna with a suffocating humidity that stuffed his lungs with cotton. He wanted to escape from it, but he didn't know how. The urge to peel off anything on him that made him feel uncomfortable was strong, but he didn't even have the energy to lift a finger.

It was a cruel cycle of suffocation, heat, and paralyzation, and for a long time, he was tormented. The rising temperature made his head throb and his throat dry, he squirmed in desperation to find something to alleviate this fever.

Then, as he was squirming, he suddenly fell, but the descent only lasted for a few seconds. On impact with whatever hard surface he landed on, his head throbbed harder, but he was shocked with the cool feeling that seeped through his clothes. He clung harder to that surface and when it started warming up, he rolled around to find a cooler spot.

He didn't remember how many times he rolled around in an attempt to chase away the overpowering heat and maybe some time had passed by -he wasn't sure- until his nose caught a whiff of a familiar scent. It smelled like cumin and nutmeg and paprika and turmeric and some citrus, and it mixed so well with his natural musk that Tanaka couldn't help but try to call out to his dear friend.

Basim-san, Basim-san.

But nothing came out from his mouth. Or maybe it was because his ears were as muddled as his mind, making everything murky as if he was underwater. Therefore, he was not able to hear his own desperate pleas but regardless, that spice-filled scent came closer quickly. He heard something rather confusing to his jumbled head:

--omas. Young Master Thomas.

Who?

In the end, he really didn't care what they were saying-- what Basim-san was saying. He just wanted him to be close.

Like a small child, hurt and scared by the terrible sensations on his body, he clung to the body that held him up despite the shared, sweltering heat. It was like he was reverted back when he was ten-years-old and had a lung infection so out of control, he had to be hospitalized for weeks. There was always someone by his bedside, his mother and father taking turns despite their jobs, and sometimes he would see Nanami and Daichi there as well, holding his hand and helping him through the worst of the drugs he was put under. When he turned sixteen, circumstances had him hospitalized in the same hospital once again but this time, Basim had never left him alone. Just like his parents, the Arabian man was a steady pillar and made sure that every time he opened his eyes, the dark-skinned man's stubbled face would be the first thing he saw.

He wanted his family, but Basim-san was the next best thing-- or even better.

Tanaka wanted to see him (it felt as if he hadn't seen him for a long time) but his eyelids were too heavy, so he laid in the safety of friend's embrace, not flinching or even stirring when Basim loosen his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. Then there was a cool palm on his chest and he couldn't help but sigh in relief at the touch. It felt really nice and very gentle. He had really missed Basim-san.

After a while, he then noticed that Basim-san was somehow sucking that debilitating heat into the palm of his hand and the air stopped suffocating his lungs. Tanaka wasn't sure if it was because he knew he was safe or due to being near Basim, but breathing suddenly became easier and the throb of his headache was a distant call. Gravity was still demanding and harsh on his body but when his friend held him closely and securely in his arms, there was nothing to fear.

Tanaka ignored the place, time, and people they happened to pass by, and buried himself within Basim-san's protective embrace. He did not have the energy to cling onto his friend, but thankfully, they stayed together until his conscious completely faded from the world.

When he woke up again, that comforting scent was nearly gone and he panicked. He was on something soft and unbearably warm, and his limbs were heavy but he sat up with a cry falling from his lips. With bleary eyes wide open, his vision spun as well as his head and he couldn't recognize anything in the room.

There were people surrounding him but they were wearing strange clothes he had never seen outside of maid cafes or reenactments and though their faces were blurry, they were unfamiliar and foreign. They spoke in a language that he surprisingly didn't recognize and that only made him more wary of his surroundings. It sounded Latin-based and he could make out a few English-sounding words, but why were there so many French pronunciations throughout the conversation?

"Young Master Thomas!"

Who?

He turned his head towards the one who called out, seeing the blurry figure of a woman who almost threw herself at him. He couldn't help but flinch back, causing her to pause and hover indecisively. He smelled a dash of baked goods, vanilla, and powdered sugar from her person, but could not recall if he had any acquaintances or friends with that same scent.

"Young Master, thank the Goddess you're awake!" She sounded... relieved, as if she knew him. And despite his unfamiliarity with their language, he could still understand what was being said. It confused him because he couldn't remember learning their language, but he didn't question it because maybe it would make things easier for him to figure out what had happened.

The room he was in smelled strongly of lavender and that gave him a lot of hope that his family was nearby but when he looked around, there was no one familiar around and his heart went cold.

"Young Master Thomas?"

He snapped his head back towards the strange woman once again, making him dizzy, but her face was blank as if those words of concern didn't come from her.

With a raspy voice, he asked, "Da re?"

She startled at his question, her face deprived of emotion, but said nothing. There were many people around him -some males, some females- but all conversation died when he spoke. Tanaka felt there was something wrong.

"Da...re?" someone mumbled from behind him, their tongue unused to his native language, which made the simple words sound terribly rough. Their voice was filled with bewilderment as if they were hearing gibberish instead of actual words.

For some reason, he suddenly felt very scared.

"Kaa-san wa doko desuka?"

"Young Master Thomas..." The woman spoke out again, her dainty hand reaching for his face but he backed away from her attempt. Something flashed within her brightly-colored eyes but he did not pay attention to it as he moved to the edge of the bed.

"Kaa-san wa doko desuka?" he repeated but no one gave him an answer. "Tou-san wa doko desuka?"

"Do.. you know what the young master is saying?" a tan-skinned man that looked distinctly Hispanic whispered from his peripheral view.

"I'm not familiar with it, but it sounds similar to Crienese," an aging man with grey hair answered quietly.

"Why is young master speaking in Crienese?!"

Crienese? What language was that? He never heard of it before.

Panic crept up his chest and into his throat, and he could not stand being surrounded by these unfamiliar people. He wanted to see his family. He wanted to see his mom, his dad, Nanami, Daichi, and Basim... Where were they? They never left him alone like this, especially with strangers. They would never leave him alone like this...

Immediately, he jumped out of the bed, uncaring of the height of the drop and the yells of 'young master'. Though his vision was unreliable, he ran towards the direction of the door he had seen briefly while he was on the bed with wobbly legs, dodging the hands that attempted to grab him.

"What— I thought young master is sick!"

"He is sick! He shouldn't be running around!"

Sick? Did that mean he was in a private hospital? What kind of hospital had a fireplace in a patient's room then? It looked more like a room from some kind of European palace! Was he sick enough that they had to find treatment in another country? But his family had to be nearby, right?

"I never knew young master could move so fast..."

"Sven, Conrad, get out of the way! What's the point of having long limbs if you can't use them?!"

There was a lot of grunts and yelps as the giants-- why were they so big? Why was he so small? He met many foreigners before but none of them were ever this tall! He might be shorter than the average Japanese man, but this was too ridiculous!

Everything was a blur, including the people shadowing over him and the colorful decor that burned into his eyes painfully. Their hands loomed ominously and Tanaka made sure to skitter out of their way before they could even touch him. His breath quickened, both out of anxiety and exhaustion, and when he finally made it around the strangers and to his destination, the door suddenly swung open. There were two more people blocking his way, probably checking out why they were so noisy, and once Tanaka figured out they were also strangers, he tried to duck below them to run out of the room.

Unfortunately, his reaction time was too slow or the other person was too fast, and he was swept up from his feet by one of the men blocking the doors. An overwhelming scent of spices filled his nose and he couldn't help but pause in his struggle. He looked up, wanting (hoping) to see his old friend in his time of uncertainty, but then the man holding him said, "Young Master Thomas?" in that unfamiliar language and his heart sank. He was not this Thomas they kept calling him and this man was not his Basim.

He renewed his struggle, crying, "Iie! Hanashiteyo! Watashi wa Dai-nii ga hoshigare desu! Nami-nee wa doko desuka?! Kaa-san!! Tou-san!!" His voice was hoarse as he tried to let his cries reached out into the hallway, hoping that his family would hear him, but the man wasn't bothered by his flailing limbs and squirming body. He held him firmly but in a way that didn't hurt him and took him straight back to the large bed and away from the door. "Hanashiteyo! Dai-nii! Nami-nee!! Basim!!"

He didn't hear the stampede of shoes he expected from outside the room and a sob climbed out from his throat.

Where were they? Why were they not here?

"Young Master Thomas..." he heard that woman called out to him again, but he shook his head and refuse to acknowledge her, concentrating on his efforts to move out of his detainer's grip.

Much to his frustration, the man with the spice-like scent easily brought him back to his (sick?) bed and when he lowered him onto the soft mattress, Tanaka tried to twist away but the older male kept a hold on him. He made a distressful cry when the guy wouldn't get off him and--

"Sayidi Alsaghir." Tanaka froze once again, recognition clearing his murky eyes. He suddenly recalled someone who had always called him 'little master' in Arabic. "Ahda. Tahdiat, sayidi alsaghir." Being so close to the other's chest, he could feel the comforting vibrations of his words. It lulled him to relax but also forced him to be aware of the hole in his heart. "'Ant aman. 'Ant fi Rosetta 'iistit fi Astria. Kunt fi ghurfatik."

He remembered that he died. From an unfortunate traffic accident that took his life, he was thrust into a world where his family couldn't reach him. It wasn't that they didn't want to see him, but they couldn't. His mother's burnt cookies, his sister's teasing face, his father's gentle voice, his brother's strong arms, and Basim's smile... he wouldn't be able to see them in this lifetime or the next.

Tanaka released a shuddering breath as his body began to tremble. A small sob was muffled by Amir's vest and his tears steadily bled into the dark material. He had mourned once for his family on the first day of his transmigration and had been steadily moving on since then, but being disoriented and sick reopened his wounds. He felt completely exposed and vulnerable and the only thing that was keeping him together was the butler's arms.

Why did he die? Why did he let Arata push him around that day? Should he have been lazier and insisted on staying in his room or less lazy so he would be able to defend himself from that sudden shove? He hadn't even said goodbye to anyone. All he was allowed before his demise was his mother's flowery, burnt-cookie scent, his father's gentle laughter, his sister's exasperated voice, and his brother's tender hand as he ruffled his hair on his way out. He didn't get to see Basim-san one last time. They were supposed to video-call each other in the next hour.

He remembered the last time he saw Basim, on a live news cover over his contract with the U.S. energy department just the day before. Tanaka had briefly took a look at the other's handsome face before taking a nap. Afterward, he was woken up by the very same person over WeChat. Even though it was past midnight with Washington D.C.'s night scene in the background of his friend probably overly-luxurious hotel room, the Arabian made sure to call during a time he would naturally be awake after his nap. They chatted for about an hour before Tanaka became sleepy once again and it was only through the other's persistence that he made sure to eat something before dropping off into dreamland.

They didn't say goodbye. Basim didn't like it when they said goodbye and Tanaka never bothered as well because they would see each other the next day or in the next several hours if the other didn't have morning meetings.

He wished he said goodbye.

"What did you tell the young master?! Why is he crying?!" The anger in Clarisse's voice brought him out of his swirling thoughts and he was suddenly stricken by the yearning to be near his caretaker. Because when he had lost everyone else, he at least had Clarisse.

Clarisse, who was there every morning when he woke up and would make sure to tuck him in at night. Who would carry him around when he didn't want to walk and sing him lullabies when he felt sad or lonely.

There was also Henry, who gave him the first taste of how a grandparent should act, who would sometimes give him piggy-back rides and the pieces of candies always supplied in his pockets. Who would read him bedtime stories and tell of him legends told by the Alfus people.

And Conrad, who grew him a bush of lavender and would stick random stalks of the plant around the wing. Who placed a pillow and a blanket in his favorite gardening-shed napping spot.

And there was Nina with her cheerful humming and soft shoulders.

Fifi, who always sneaked baked goods into his hiding spots in the kitchen.

Sven with his gentle hands and even gentler magic, who would panic when he had a papercut.

Johanna, who would allow him to sleep inside the laundry basket and carry him around as she was doing laundry.

Amir, who always spoke Arabic with him and whose magic would cradle him safely as he slept. Who would always let him sniff his neck and bury his nose in his chest for as long as he wanted. Who was the first one he saw outside of Thomas' father and the only one he felt he could be himself because Amir never truly knew Thomas and took whatever he did with acceptance.

And then there was everyone else—

He had them. If God wouldn't let him have his family, they should at least let him keep this one.

Amir didn't respond to Clarisse's inquiries and kept his silence as he soothingly rubbed the little one's back.

Just as the maid was about to demand an explanation from her co-worker, her name was called out from her charge within the butler's embrace: "Clarisse." Her young master's voice was tender and soft, and his voice cracked oh-so heartbreakingly. The child squirmed against Amir and lifted an arm to reach out towards Clarisse's direction.

Amir understood the little master's nonverbal requested and lifted him up from the bed. Soon after, the butler readily gave the child to his caretaker, who had unshed tears brimming from her bright-colored eyes.

Though Tanaka was comfortable staying in Amir's arms, he immediately clung onto Clarisse nonetheless, and tuck his face against her shoulder. Though he had stopped sobbing, his breath would hitch up from time to time and his tears had yet to stop falling.

Clarisse cradled him tenderly but fiercely and started rocking him through his distress. "Shhhhhh, it's okay young master. I understand young master is sick, but the doctor is here. He'll help make you feel better."

Several pairs of intense eyes looked at said doctor, who had followed the Zafarian butler to see the young patient. Obviously, the people in the room expected results and good results, causing the poor aging doctor to sweat noticeably, but Clarisse didn't bother him for much longer and focused on her young master instead.

The little one stuck closely to her and she could feel her charge's high temperature even across their clothes. She felt both worried and immensely tormented by her child's pain, but she could only leave him to a professional. She was afraid of making whatever ails the young master worse and cause the child to suffer even further.

"...'m sorry."

The apology was barely audible due to the child's position against her chest, but Clarisse was able to hear it regardless, causing her to hold her charge tighter and her voice to waver. "Young master has nothing to apologize for. This maidservant knows that young master is not feeling well."

Though she was not sure of the nature of the apology, she assumed it might be related to the way he had avoided her minutes before. Admittedly, she was hurt by his rejection at first, but she was aware that her charge was not in good health and could not bear to be upset at something that wasn't the young master's fault. What she was more upset about was the fact that the young master had run around when he should be on bed rest, therefore aggravating his ill body.

Being very attentive to her young master's conditions, she easily noticed that his fever spiked up once again, and his flustered and distressed state seemed to contribute to it.

"Doctor, please step forward and take a look at our young master," Clarisse demanded with her tears dried and her stone-like face filled with determination. She made no moves to separate herself from her charge. Not that she could since whenever she tried to give the child more room to breathe, he would release a soft sob.

Awkwardly, with everyone's single-minded stares pressed down on his shoulders, the poor man shuffled forward. Everyone else in the room decided to move forward behind the doctor as well and they would have crowded the maid and their youngest master if it wasn't for Henry's stern gaze.

With unwilling expressions, they backed a decent distance away from the group with only Amir allowed near just because he was already nearby in the first place.

With unblinking eyes, the group watched closely as the doctor gingerly touched their little master while asking questions about his health and state of mind for the past few weeks. After taking his temperature and checking both his heart and lungs, the aging man shakingly prescribed a medical concoction to help relieve his symptoms. He had concluded that the young master had caught the summer flu or cold, and would need a lot of fluids and rest in order to recover.

The surrounding servants were relieved to find that whatever ails their youngest master was manageable. But for the next two and a half weeks, Young Master Thomas only grew steadily worse.

--------------



Aka, Editor-chan's current feelings.

Author's Note:

Well, you guys wanted me to update. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Anyway, the next updates are going to be much later (though I'll try to keep it less than a month). That's mostly because I'm going to write the next two chapters in one go (and both chapters will be long). I'm doing this because I love you guys and because if you really hated the previous Chapter 12's cliffhanger, then you'll definitely hate Chapter 14's cliffhanger *cackles*.

Is this necessary?

To be honest, yeah.

Do I enjoy this?

To be honest, yeah.

Not that I like making my favorite characters miserable, but once I'm done with this event, the story plot opens up by a lot and as a notorious world builder, I am excited.

But first, to make you all miserable for the next few chapters. (ﾉ^ヮ^)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧

In other news, I have a made a twitter account, mostly because I saw the convo about radio silence (me and Editor-chan are always watching lol) and wattpad kind of sucks at notifications. And I suck at notifying life-stuff. That and also, me and Editor-chan have these funny conversations sometimes that we don't know where to put, lolololol. I'll also write some mini-theater snippets of Tanaka and the rest in between updates. They're really short, but they'll help me keep out of writer's block.

This is solely for my stories and other related content. It's also for those who don't have a wattpad or didn't want to follow me on wattpad. Because my schedule is inconsistent, it's probably not fun having to check back and forth on wattpad to see if I have updated. You can find me @ArutoYoho.