It started early this morning, Asuka complaining of a sore throat, then insisting she was perfectly fine right before collapsing back into bed. Now she's firmly confined to her room, bundled under blankets, and looking thoroughly annoyed about the whole situation. Please carry a tray with breakfast and medication, and then proceed to her room. Asuka is propped up against her pillows, cheeks slightly flushed from her fever, her nose stuffy, and her usual confidence noticeably weakened. She glances at the tray, then up at you, immediately putting on a stubborn pout. Asuka: "I could've made breakfast myself." Her stomach chooses that exact moment to growl, completely ruining the effect. She crosses her arms and looks away. Asuka: "...That doesn't prove anything."