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The first sneeze caught them off guard.
Not because anyone cared if Kaminari sneezed—this was allergy season, after all. It was the sheer velocity of the sneeze, an earth-shattering ACHOO! that had half the class ducking for cover as if they'd been caught in an explosion.
Shinso, who had been nursing a caffeine addiction and insomnia so fierce it made his brain feel like overcooked ramen, groaned loudly from his corner of the common room. He had been halfway through muttering his third sarcastic comment about Bakugou’s inability to use an indoor voice when Kaminari let loose the sneeze that shook UA to its foundations.
“Do you have to sound like you’re starting a war, Kaminari?” Shinso asked flatly, rubbing his forehead. “Some of us are trying to enjoy the crushing silence of existential dread over here.”
Kaminari, whose sinuses were staging a coup against the rest of his face, sniffled pitifully. “I can’t help it, man! Mother Nature has a vendetta against me. I swear, one day she’s gonna strangle me with poison ivy.”
“Good.” Shinso didn’t even bother looking up from his phone, where he was scrolling through a Reddit thread on "How to Sleep for People Who Can't Sleep." He was also posting snarky comments on every insomnia-related post he found. Therapy was for the weak; sarcasm was his coping mechanism. “Maybe that’ll finally shut you up.”
“Wow, love you too, babe,” Kaminari shot back with a grin, flopping down onto the couch next to Shinso. He looked like a walking ad for antihistamines, his eyes bloodshot, his nose a faucet, and his hair somehow frizzier than usual. He handed Shinso a tissue. “For your cold, dead heart.”
Shinso stared at the tissue as though it personally offended him. “I’m not touching that. It probably has your snot germs on it.”
“It’s unused, you germaphobe,” Kaminari said, but when Shinso continued to glare, he crumpled it up and tossed it across the room. It hit Todoroki on the shoulder, who blinked in slow confusion. “Sorry, Sho!” Kaminari called.
“It’s okay,” Todoroki replied, though he didn’t look sure of what he was forgiving. He just picked up the tissue and deposited it in the trash with the care of someone handling an ancient relic.
Across the room, Bakugou barked a laugh. “Jesus, Dunce Face, I thought you were annoying before, but you’ve actually leveled up. Congrats.”
“Gee, thanks, Kacchan!” Kaminari chirped. “I’ve been working on my stats. Maxed out Charisma and Allergy Damage!”
Bakugou’s face twisted. “Call me that again, and I’ll max out your life expectancy.”
“Wow, very original, Bakugou,” Shinso muttered, finally looking up. “Threatening bodily harm. Again. You should get that on a t-shirt.”
“You’re cruising for a bruising too, Eyebags!” Bakugou snapped, jabbing a finger in Shinso’s direction.
“You’re proving my point,” Shinso deadpanned. “Anyway, shouldn’t you be in the kitchen making dinner or whatever? Isn’t it your night to grace us with your Gordon Ramsay knockoff routine?”
Bakugou grumbled something about “ungrateful idiots” and stomped toward the kitchen, leaving Todoroki to quietly mutter, “I kind of like when he calls me a donkey.”
“Okay, that’s enough out of you,” Shinso said, giving Todoroki the side-eye. Kaminari giggled, his laugh as infectious as ever, despite the snot situation.
“C’mon, Hitoshi,” Kaminari teased, leaning closer. “Admit it—you’d miss me if I died of pollen overdose.”
“Maybe,” Shinso said with a shrug. “But only because no one else is dumb enough to willingly hang out with me when I’m this tired.”
“You’re not tired,” Kaminari said, grinning mischievously. “You’re always tired. This is just your natural state.”
“Wow, thanks, Kaminari. That clears everything up,” Shinso replied, his tone so dry it could’ve cracked glass. He glanced sideways at Kaminari, noting the way his golden eyes crinkled with humor, even when his face was puffier than a marshmallow. It was ridiculous how cute he was. Infuriating, really.
Kaminari leaned his head on Shinso’s shoulder. “Admit it,” he said softly. “You’d miss me.”
“Whatever,” Shinso muttered, his cheeks pink. “Maybe I’d miss you a little. For the entertainment value.”
“You’re blushing,” Kaminari whispered, delighted.
“I’m not,” Shinso grumbled, knowing full well he was.
The rest of the class had, at this point, either left the room or resigned themselves to the ongoing show. Mina was recording the whole thing with her phone from behind the couch, while Jirou pretended not to be invested but kept glancing over her book every few seconds.
“Just kiss already!” Uraraka yelled from the hallway, where she was apparently eavesdropping. Izuku squeaked and muttered something about "boundaries" before scurrying away.
“Not a chance,” Shinso called back. “Kaminari’s still covered in germs.”
Kaminari grinned. “Don’t worry, babe, I’ll disinfect for you.”
“Romantic,” Shinso said, rolling his eyes. But when Kaminari smiled at him like that, he thought that maybe, just maybe, allergy season wasn’t so bad after all.