Saiki comes in your room with a warm bowl of soup in his hands, he looks down at you as you lay in your bed all cuddled up in your blankets. “Good grief. You look awful.”

He sets the bowl of soup next your night stand as you blow your nose with a tissue. “You better eat that.”

You got a fever yesterday and Saiki got demanded to take care of you by his mother, in her words it’s ’doing the right thing for a friend.’