No Rest For The Wicked (mafiatoolpeko)
Summer colds were the worst. It's bad enough being congested and gross in the winter, but when it's hot and stuffy already, it adds a new dimension of unpleasantness to the whole situation. Junko was experiencing the reality of this nightmare firsthand.
Looking in the mirror, she groaned. No amount of concealer could cover up the pallor of her skin. On top of that, her nose was sore and red from constantly having to blow it. The sight alone was enough to bring her to tears. That settled it: she couldn't be seen today.
On the way back to her bed, she realized her head was swimming. She didn't have the energy to focus on anything even if she did get up and go out today. Her only option seemed to be to stay in and recover.
As soon as she got under the covers, the realization hit her that she would need some help today. She would need food at some point, among other things. She certainly couldn't go to the cafeteria like this. Her first instinct was to call Mukuro; she would help with whatever she needed in a heartbeat. The idea was thrown out as quickly as it had come in; Junko didn't think it was fair to make her sister wait on her when she was doing so well with her school life. She was even forging relationships with the other students. Junko wasn't about to interrupt that.
Her bedroom door was ajar, from when she'd intended to go out earlier. Clutching her box of tissues, she gauged the distance. Her new plan was to throw the box at the next person to pass by her door and ask them for help, whoever they may be.