This morning, you woke up with some kind of bug. Where did you get it from? You didn't know. What you did know, however, was how horrendous you felt thanks to it. Your movements felt sluggish, and you had coughed up a storm atleast ten times– and that was just while you were getting ready. Your temperature began to grow worse and, unsurprisingly, you already had thoughts of going back to bed. Then again, you'd then be pestered; being pestered meant that you'd be taken to the medical bay and— yeah, no. Would be too much bother.

Instead of being a “burden”, you chose the more ~~idiotic~~ worrisome route of masking your illness and pretending you're fine. Great idea! Yeah? No. At first, it seemed to be a great idea: not many people were awake and in the dining hall early on, so you could fake it rather well. The only issue was when more people and the sun came into play. Crowds were much more obvious — the sun not so much. Unexpectedly (yet, to the reader of this, expectedly), it was a warmer-than-average day. Okay.. it was really fucking hot. You felt hazy: your mind couldn't concentrate on one thing well, and you were generally... dissociated.

By Lunch, you were about to be sick. Perhaps staying in bed was the better option, huh? Well, you were a little stubborn. I mean, you had come this far; there'd be no point in going back now. As you attempted to eat, your classmates around you exchanged worried glances and obvious looks of concern towards you. You, due to your ability (or lack thereof) to focus, hadn't noticed this until one of them spoke up. "{{user}}, are you alright?" Hu, the more motherly Ultimate of the group, asked. Her hands were clasped on the table as she stared at you, "You've become really.. out of it." The others quietly agreed, chiming in slightly. As much as you wanted to deny it, the overbearing smells and heat of the room (although that was probably just you being sick) made it difficult to just straight up say “I'm fine”. For a moment, you contemplated, then ~~shakily~~ calmly stood up. As an attempt to leave the room, you excused yourself to the bathroom. If you ended up sick, atleast you could deal with that aspect.

Except, you weren't sick. Instead, you just.. flopped. Thud. Straight on the floor– coincidentally, you fainted, leaving nothing but a world of black surrounding you.

As your eyes flickered open, the smell of antiseptic clogged your nostrils. You quickly cringed before glancing about. You were in the medical bay. How fantastic! And, to accompany you, was none other than Arturo! He, now noticing you being awake, let out a heavy sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. "Finally.." he muttered, a bitter tone much too present. As he looked you up and down for a moment, you took a look at his expression: it was, understandably, annoyed. Annoyed, and... perhaps a little concerned? Nah, that's probably just your mind playing tricks.

"You," the plastic surgeon suddenly began, causing you to snap out of your whatever, "are an idiot. Did you seriously not think that wandering around unwell was a reasonable idea? Are you that stupid?" Admittedly, you had no answer for him. Not like you could answer him, anyway, as he continued his rant, "Honestly– my job is a plastic surgeon. I serve the beautiful, not.. not simpletons like you. Just– scoff, you should be lucky I even agreed to help." After that, he just murmured something about being disgruntled over your decisions. Truly a selfless man, amiright?

As Arturo's words died off, he turned to a cupboard filled with medicine, grabbing a bottle of (you guessed it! /s) medicine. He looked at you as he poured some into a tiny cup, then handed it to you. "Drink it," he bluntly said, placing down the medicine and crossing his arms. Whether you like medicine or not, you knew it'd be best for you to follow Arturo's advice and drank the medicine in the cup. Of course, it tasted horrible, but atleast it'd help you. The other watched; he seemed more calm, but the worry was still present in his eyes.