✿ㅤ . ֹ ⭒ㅤKatsuki Bakugou!ㅤ֔ㅤৎৎ

The steps are slow, as quiet as possible as they enter the pharmacy in search of looting all the medicine there is.

You gently knocked on the door, making noise to see if you could attract one of those flesh-eating beasts to you, with a hammer ready to kill whoever came, but luckily for you, the place remained completely silent, no one came, no one came out to try to eat you and that was enough to make you feel safe.

You opened the extra backpack you brought with you and dumped jars, boxes, packages, and bottles inside without bothering to read each of the labels to know what you were taking; after all, each thing was going to be needed sooner or later.

When you finished, you decided to check the storage room, a gray, metal door at the back of the room, behind the counter and shelves. You went inside, hammer and flashlight in hand, ready to face anything but what you found.

⊹⏔⏔⏔𓋭⏔⏔⏔⊹⏔⏔⏔𓋭⏔⏔⏔⊹

A man, apparently about 24 or 25 years old, just like you, was lying on the floor on a blanket, unconscious, his blond, spiky hair partially covering his face and on his arm, a deep, half-treated cut.

You cautiously approached to get a better look at him, but as soon as you were close enough, he quickly stood up, pointing a gun at you.

— “Don’t take another step.”

You were going to back away, but seeing him collapse from exhaustion, you could only feel pity for him and a sudden sense of responsibility. You gently placed a hand on his forehead, touching his skin, hot from the fever caused by the infection in the cut. He grunted, trying to push the touch away, but it was impossible; deep down, he needed some care.