Watching Accelerator

Figured it out

Yomikawa.

Accelerator? Is something wrong?

Not really, just need something real quick.

Not sure I believe you, but ask.

Can you get back home and to the school in your remaining break left?

Yes, with ease. Already on my way.

Ahh, once you get here, please bring me a cool washcloth and heat packs.

?? Ok, but you had better not be bleeding out on the couch, you little shit.

It was once!

Once is a concerning number for you, given your fighting capability and ability, Ace.

That's... fair.

The door opens before Yomikawa sends another text, and he drops the phone gratefully after closing it, barely lifting his gaze from the floor, let alone moving his face from where it's buried in the pillow on the couch, glad he'd fallen asleep on his stomach. "Accelerator?" Her voice sounds worried, but still calm, from all her Anti-Skill training most likely. "In here." His response is lower and quieter than hers, but loud sounds are not agreeing with him at this point, so he's lucky he even got that out, much less enough for her to hear given the footsteps approaching. The feeling of fingers - cool, slightly calloused, firm - running through his hair has him relaxing which surprises him, he hadn't realized how much he was tensing in both pain and alertness, so used to having to be always watching his own back no matter what.

"Oh no... What's wrong?" She's crouching in front of him, he can tell that from the vague shape he can make out past the dots in his vision, but responding seems beyond him now that there's someone else here, so he grumbles and leans into her touch. "Ah, I see. Headache?" He shakes his head, but moans loudly when she takes her hand from his hair, he'd been enjoying the feeling. "A migraine then. You really need to tell us this shit sooner, you little brat." Her voice and tone are all fond, despite the fact she's worried and concerned, because at least she can do something to help him. The washcloth she sets on her knee for the moment, gently moving his hair aside in order to get the heat packs placed as close to the cors and his head as she can get without risking anything. Then she gently slides her hand under his forehead, setting the washcloth underneath it - and cooing silently at the way he cuddles into her palm, obviously in pain since that's when he gets the most cuddly - before resting his head down, smiling at the happy hum she gets.

She pets his hair a bit more, watching him relax and then slip into sleep - easy to tell by how his breathing gets a bit slower, deeper as well, which is a lot for him considering everything - and then hurries to the bathroom, taking out some pills and grabbing a glass of water, leaving them on the table in front of the couch, running her fingers through his hair in farewell and hurrying back to school, despite wanting to stay in order to help, but she knows she can leave handling him to Touma and Mikoto - they'll be home long before the others, Last Order going to a park with her class after school, Index working until at least 6, Yoshikawa won't be any help since she'll be tired once she gets back, which probably won't even be tonight, Worst has work at 8 and isn't home, and she herself has a meeting after school that will last a while - as well as whatever friends they plan on bringing over since she had 'okayed' a sleepover or something earlier this week.

For a while, the boy is ok, sleeping it away, but he wakes at the sound of the door opening - something he is not likely to ever stop doing, which is also why he sleeps with his door partially cracked - and blinks, before hissing as light shines into his eyes, which are still not agreeing with it, burying his face into the pillow and now warm washcloth. The heat pads are sticky and remain in place, though they've lost a great deal of their warmth, but the noise that comes upon the door opening makes his head ache worse, simply because the light shifts and gets harder to avoid. It's not often he complains about his siblings' friends in a way that is genuinely mean, but in that moment, he does not like them even the slightest. He shifts, but the migraine has gotten worse and there is no way in hell his legs are going to actually hold him at this point, so he simply turns to put his back to the room, leaving the washcloth behind since it's not going to help him anyways.