Playing Doctor
“How about here? Does it hurt here?”
Oriya sighed. “No.”
“You’re sure?” Muraki asked with a rather wicked smile, his hand pressing down on Oriya’s hip. “This is a vital point.”
“I’m sure. I’d know, right?”
Muraki did not look amused. “If you didn’t intend to properly help me study, then you shouldn’t have come over.”
“If you didn’t intend to properly conduct your examination, then I shouldn’t have let you talk me into it.”
“I’m being very proper.”
“Says the man with his hand inside my kimono. You told me to pretend I had an illness and you’d figure out which one. All you’ve done since I laid down is manhandle me. My illness is not in any of the places that you’ve suggested. Study harder.”
“You could at least fake a cough or something,” Muraki told him.
“I could, if my fake illness was in my lungs.”
“You’re no fun whatsoever.”
“I never claimed to be.”
“What about here?”
“Ah! Don’t be a jerk!” But Oriya was laughing. “I could sue you for that, you bastard. Malpractice or something. I miss when we played doctor back before you actually knew anything about being a doctor. When I could just say that I had a horrible pain and you’d use it as an excuse to get me out of all my clothes.”
“You’re the one who chose to fake an illness somewhere totally uninteresting. Where was it, by the way?”
“In my head. I have a headache. Who wouldn’t, after dealing with you all the time?”
“It’s probably fatal.”
“The headache, or dealing with you?”
Muraki tilted his head to one side and gave Oriya a little smile. “Whichever you prefer.”