Midoriya follows Kaworu's hand with his eyes, but he hasn't got the energy to muster a proper reaction. He shuts his eyes and opens them again, as if that will fix his throbbing head and desecrated inner ear. He picks through memories--drinking games, spice, getting the shower turned on him while he was asleep--in an achronological haze. The last thing Midoriya remembers is hanging out with them. They must have (drunkenly?) directed the skeletons to allow Midoriya in here. There may have been carrying involved. Midoriya's got the strength for it, Quirk or no Quirk.

"That's not how blackouts work, but thank you Paul-kun. I'd want--Anyway, I don't remember how I got here..."

He's not nice enough to Paul's pride to refrain from reminding his friends how the poison in their blood works. He knows the theory, if not--obviously--the practice. He lets out a small, relieved sigh. If he actually did stupid stuff--other than the other stupid stuff he does remember--like kiss his friends, he'd want to remember, if only to make sure they were fine.

"Water... We need water first..." His mouth has the consistency of glue. Where's that pitcher of water he had last night? He tries to shift, and the room lurches as he flattens on his back again. Feebly and with terrible aim, he grasps at their arms in solidarity. "Ughhh... Give me a minute..."