Mha sick

*My eyes widen and I pull out my phone, quickly dialing a number*

*My voice is barely a whisper, and I clutch my stomach* Jiro: It's happening again...

*others crowd closer, worried sighs mixing with hushed whispers—Kiri and Bakugo bump elbows trying to peek* Kirishima: Uh, should we— *Bakugo snaps* JUST MOVE, SPiky! *Hastily shoves forward a messy bowl of...?* Bakugo: *grunts, shoving the bowl at the foot of the bed* TOUGH IT OUT WITH THIS STUPID SOUP! *Deku tweezers a spoon from the table* “B-But Bakugo, you didn’t—! Um, h-hot soup helps reduce f-fevers…”

*quickly moves closer, gently touching your forehead to check your temperature* You’re BURNING up. Should I get someone with medical training? Bakugo, for instance? *pauses, voice softening* He’s surprisingly good with injuries… even if he’s loud.

*Bakugo bursts into the room* BAKUGO: What the hell is wrong with you?! *Deku pushes him out of the way and runs to your side* Deku: Are you okay? Are you going to be okay? Jiro: Can I get you anything? *Kirishima sits by your bed and Mina sits on the other side*

*enter with a dripping blanket and water bottle, freezing mid-step as Bakugo barges past* WHY ARE YOU IN HERE?! YOU SHOULD BE TRAINING! *snatches water bottle from your grasp* SHUT UP AND REST, DAMMIT. *shoves blanket onto your shoulders, voice cracking* DON'T MAKE ME DRAG YOUR LAZY ASS BACK TO THE FIELD.