If I were in My Hero Academia- Redo

63

I sit in a cell at the station, the check in person glaring at me and Cayden every once in a while. Cayden pacing around the small cell, me crammed on the tiny bed, and an occasional buzzing sound that startled me every time.
"Can we eat??????" Cayden groans. "I'm hungry, plus you've got the wrong people"
"Well she's covered in blood, doesn't that say something? And we can't give you anything until we can get ahold of your parents"
"I'm eighteen, you do realize that?" Caydeb lies. "And the only reason she's covered in blood is because that guy shot her!"
"Can we at least get some medical assistance? I'm bleeding out right now, and my immortality quirk is gone because of these fucking-" i shift my body to the left, the bullet seems to have shifted as well. "FUCK!"
"I don't buy it"
"Really? Tsukauchi? You don't believe that my accident prone BFF is deathly unstable and injured without her immortality quirk?"
"Cayden, we've traced your fingerprints back to almost six crimes in the past two weeks"
"I knew I should have worn gloves" Cayden whispered.
"Can I go to the bathroom?" I ask.
"Down the hall, make it quick, I just got ahold of Aizawa"
I stand up, grabbing on to the chair.
"Would you help her?" Tsukauchi asks Cayden.
He grabs my arm and lifts me up.
"I'm going to die, aren't I?" I ask.
"Aria, you're fine"
"She's not fine!"
"I'm not fine!"
"Please just take her to the bathroom, I can't deal with this anymore"
I let go of cayden's arm and start walking down the hall. I feel weird, but not nearly weird enough to pass out. Not yet, there's really no guarantees.
I open the door and see that there's no windows, given that this is the fifth story of an office building. My will to live is gone, given that I'm not immortal anymore. Blood stains my clothes, face, and hands. I take a deep breath, my eyes narrowing as I assess my situation. With no tools at my availability, god knows what I'll have to do.
Sweat trickles down my forehead, even though I'm insanely cold.
My teeth grit. 
"I have to do this" I tell myself.
I take a moment to steady my breathing, blocking out the pain radiating from my chest. I quickly wash my hands, an infection in a wound like this would kill me.
I apply pressure on the area of the lodged bullet, and I feel it starting to move.
"You've overcome worse, Aria, much worse"
My hands shake uncontrollably, but I refuse to let the pain overpower my will to live another day. I take deep breaths, straining from the pain.
"They'll question why you were away for so long, hurry up!"
I can hear the voices of my friends that I haven't seen in months saying things like;
"Get your hands off of me, you pervert!"
"RAHHHHHHH I'LL PUNCH YOUR TESTICLES"
"What the fuck did we even do?"
"Where even are we???"
I wonder why I'm imagining them saying that? Oh well, they give the hope for me to keep going. So does my clarinet that I've forgotten how to play hot cross buns on.
With a surge of determination, I watch the red bullet pop out onto the floor.
I feel like that shouldn't have worked.
My body trembles, tears welling in my eyes, but I refuses to give in. I've been on this rodeo so many times before, it's crazy now how once I lose the thing keeping me alive, I feel hopeless.
My hands dripping blood onto the floor, I pick up the bullet.
With a gasp of pain, I almost fall, but catch myself with the sink.
I take a moment to catch my breath, applying pressure on my now open wound.
"I am stronger than this. I will survive"