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Sakusa wrinkled his nose at the drink in his hands. A brightly yellow colored liquid sat still in the mug, and if his eyes weren’t deceiving him, then the brown powder that was haphazardly dusted on top should have been cinnamon. Or maybe it was nutmeg? He wasn’t really sure —it more or less tasted the same to him anyways.
“What is this…” He asked, hesitantly sniffing the drink over the edge of the cup with lips drawn so tightly as if repressing the urge to lean over the bed and empty his stomach’s contents. He swirled the contents of the mug, watching the liquid slosh around with a disapproving frown.
“Turmeric milk,” you responded indifferently, ignoring the questioning look that Sakusa had shot your way when you revealed the name.
“Not a fan of turmeric,” he mumbled as he sat the mug down by the night stand, pushing it slowly away from him. You rolled your eyes as you walked over to return the mug back into his begrudging hands.
“For someone who’s so worried about getting sick, you don’t seem to know much about the immune system now, do you,” you quipped, raising an eyebrow at the man from where you were standing with your arms crossed and head tilted.
His brows furrowed in confusion, slightly taken aback by the sudden tangent you had suddenly gone off of. Immune system? He wasn’t sick — he only had a swollen ankle. How did his immune system fit into this?
“It’ll help with the swelling, Kiyoomi.”
“I don’t see how yellow milk,” he tipped over the mug, showing you the contents to further emphasize his point, “is going to help, (f/n).”
You huffed out in annoyance, moving your hands down to your hips as you gave a small shake of your head with a click of your tongue. How naive you are, Kiyoomi.
Sakusa raised an eyebrow, as if inviting you to explain exactly how this mystery drink with the neon yellow froth floating on top would help his minor ankle sprain —the ankle sprain even their trainer said would only take about a week of simply rest to heal.
You drew in a breath. If Sakusa wanted an explanation, then an explanation he was going to get.
“The inhibition of key JAK proteins in the janus kinase pathway by one of the main components of turmeric results in decreased signalling and modulation of the pro-inflammatory state,” you started, ignoring the stunned look that had warped onto your boyfriend’s face. “By suppressing the inflammatory cytokines that are released in response to injury, you’re also effectively reducing the extent of immune recruitment into the surrounding tissues, thereby dampening the overall response.”
You looked over at Sakusa’s face and tried to suppress a laugh, though it ended up coming out as a snort instead. He looked back at you, eyes blinking rapidly, mouth agape in wonder.
(f/n):1, Kiyoomi: 0, you chuckled in your mind.
“It’ll help reduce the inflammation, even if it’s just by a little bit,” you offered, figuring that your words from just now likely flew completely over the striker’s head if his expression was anything to go off of.
“Right,” he mumbled from his spot against the bed frame, still slightly taken aback and trying to process what you had said earlier. In hindsight, perhaps it wasn’t the smartest idea to challenge you in your own field, but you were talking about turmeric! How was he supposed to know it would lead to science? He’s heard of the cytokines that you spoke of from before when you practiced your presentations with him, but what even was a janus kinase?
He was driven out of his puzzlement when the familiar notes of your voice started singing once more, this time instructing him on what to do throughout the day, how he should stay in bed as much as possible, and how he should only get up when it was absolutely necessary.
“—Make sure you ice 15 on and 15 off or else you’ll get hypothermia. Also, don’t listen to Bokuto and Hinata —and god forbid you listen to Atsumu— if they come over and try to drag you out to go practice, got it?” You lectured, counting down each point you listed down with your fingers. Sakusa nodded obediently as he watched, too mesmerized by the whirlwind you had become, running across the room and shoving your things into your bag to ready out the door, to worry about the peculiarly named proteins you had talked about just prior.
You paused in your steps, stopping to stand next to him by the bedside table, the peeved look from earlier suddenly replaced by a gentle smile carrying with it just the faintest trace of worry. “Call me if you need anything, alright?”
“Mhm, love you,” he mumbled as he pulled you down for a quick kiss, whispering a quick good bye in your ear before you leaned away with a blush and hurried out the door, muttering incoherent complaints about how you were now late for work because of a certain child refusing to cooperate or listen to you.
A laugh slipped out from Sakusa as he heard the lock click back into place, relaxing into the pillow he was leaning against with the mug nestled in his hands. He took a sip of the milk, and reluctantly forced himself to swallow the liquid down.
Not a big fan of turmeric, he thought, sticking out his tongue.
He turned over to place the mug back down on his night stand, but found his eyes drifting over to the photo of the two of you from years back when you had first started dating he kept on the night stand. The photo of you, clad in the gown and bonnet of your school colors, with a smile equally as radiant as the large bouquet of bright yellow flowers in your hands standing next to him, dressed in a freshly pressed suit, who was too busy trying to avoid getting whipped by the tassel to even think about smiling for the camera.
He sighed as he picked the mug back up in his hands and readied himself for another swig of the bright concoction.
Note to self: Never question the significant other with the PhD.