Ray folded his arms over the gated edge of Sora's hospital bed. He resisted the urge to play with the wrinkles in the bed sheets since Sora had already slapped his hands away once, and the pulse oximeter really hurt to get slapped with.

Sora folded his arms, annoyed, and said, "I don't see why you're here. I'll be discharged soon anyway."

"But you have a concussion—"

"I have a headache—"

"Yeah, but that's a symptom of a concussion—"

Sora rolled his eyes, slapping his hands down with a huff. He was dressed in nothing but a hospital gown, which was for the better considering... what he arrived in. After dropping him and Charlie off, Ray had whisked to their apartment under the guise of "going to the store to buy clothes for Sora".

It was one thing to cross the boundary of Sora's work life, and another thing to collide Sora's work life with their apartment situation.

Ray could never take back the experience of fetching Sora's clothes. He had stood in the middle of Sora's closet reconsidering Sora's roommate checklist and his reasonings that Ray now understood too well. Sora had insisted they stay out of each others' rooms, and he came to the conclusion that it was all for the sake of Sora's closet, which had a section of lingerie that Ray stared at for a solid two minutes before realizing what he was doing, where he was, and where he had to go.

And, so, Ray was now simply waiting for Sora to be freed from the San Francisco clinic's clutches. Ray tapped his fingers on the metal ledge and said, "Anyway, I don't mind driving. I'd rather drive you than have you go on public transit after you fainted like that."

"I had low blood sugar, you asshole. You see my blood sugar now? It's sweet and spicy," Sora said, pointing to the IV in his arm.

"Just because you're sweet and spicy now doesn't mean you will be later," Ray insisted.

Of course, there was no way for Ray to know the specifics, but given the little clues Sora had given him, the cause of Sora's fainting spell wasn't brain damage, necessarily—it was a mix of malnourishment, sleep deprivation, and over exertion.

Bottom line: Overworking.

And for a while there, he and Charlie thought Sora suffered a traumatic brain injury.

"You're mumbling," Sora said, scowling at him.

Ray squeaked, perking straight up. "S-Sorry! I was just thinking about Charlie. I feel bad for startling him tonight," he confessed. He couldn't take back the fact that he had, in fact, barged into Sora's work, nor could he regret it—he was glad that he knew now—but as for Charlie... He regretted dragging the guy into it, too. Charlie had said his work was private, and Ray should have respected that.

Sora scoffed and said, "He'll get over it. Is he the one who told you where I work?"

Ray startled, gasping, "What? No! I, um, I recognized your tattoo. This morning."

Sora squinted at him. His tattoo? He didn't have a tattoo.

Oh, fuck, he realized, reaching a hand to cover his eyes.

Ray looked at his lap and said, "You didn't have one before, so... I thought it was weird. You know, that time I was brushing my teeth and you..."

"Don't. Finish that sentence," Sora groaned. He rubbed both hands over his face. The pulse oximeter clapped against his forehead. A few seconds of painful silence passed. Five seconds felt like five minutes as Ray sat and picked at a hangnail on his thumb.

And then, Sora spoke, muffled through his hands. "Could you do me a favor."

Ray leapt in his seat. "Y-Yes! Anything!"

Sora pried his hands off of his face, gesturing sharply. "Don't tell anyone about where I work. I fucking mean it. It's one thing for you to bring your stupid friends over, but the club—"

"I-I won't! And that was just a one-time thing with my friends. It won't happen again, I promise," Ray said.

Sora dropped his hands to his lap with a sigh. It pulled the tension from his shoulders, and Ray withered a little from the guilt of having put Sora through that.

The door to the room slid open. Ray perked up as the doctor pulled at the curtain shielding the door, only to come to the quick realization that this woman was not, in fact, Sora's doctor.

Sora's heart stopped in his chest.

The woman was dressed smart in a simple pantsuit and pointed heels. She looked like the love interest in a James Bond movie with cleavage that went to Kingdom Come. Ray couldn't stop staring at them and thinking, God, I'm so glad that I'm already flat-chested. I couldn't image squashing those puppies down.

Just beneath the flat edge of her bangs sat a scowl. A scowl so profound and oddly familiar that Ray felt himself withering with guilt for staring at her honkers.

"E-Erin..." Sora started, pained.

The woman marched over, and with every step she took, both Sora and Ray tried unsuccessfully to back away in their seats. Sora pulled the sheets on the bed up over his chest as Erin came to stand directly beside him.

She stared him down.

Erin? Ray wondered. He didn't know anyone named Erin, and she looked too professional to play a part in the club scene.

She wound a fist back and punched Sora square in the gut.

Sora withered with a raspy, "Oh, fucking hell..." as Erin checked to make sure she didn't chip a nail.

Ray's jaw dropped as Erin spoke at last. "Serves you right, you little shit."

Sora tipped onto his side, grunting and clutching at his stomach. "What're you doing here?"

"In case you forgot, I'm your emergency contact," she said. Sora put his hands over his face. "And it's a goddamn miracle you wound up in the hospital! I don't know how else I woulda got your address, mister!"

Sora's eyes widened. He looked to Ray, who squeaked in raw, unadulterated terror. "Th-They asked for it at the front desk..." he confessed, wincing.

"I was worried sick!" Erin cried, throwing her arms out frantically. "Anyone would have a hernia if their little brother vanished in the dead of the night!"

"That doesn't give you permission to barge in here and—" Sora broke off, coughing into his elbow. Erin turned to Ray and gestured to Sora, as if to say, "You see what running away does to a man?"

Ray was too busy staring at her and thinking, This woman is related to Sora. I guess beauty does run in the family.

Erin yanked over a chair and sat backwards on it, her arms perched on the backrest, and her eyes honed in on Sora. Ray swallowed hard. He now knew where he recognized that glare.

She gave a great big huff before propping her chin on her hand and pouting. She looked dejectedly down at the sheets and said, "I was really worried, Sora."

Ray realized then that this was a private conversation that he should not be a part of. He slid awkwardly out of his seat and grabbed his bag as he said, "I should... go... I'll be out in the lobby—"

"Oh! Give me ten seconds and I'll go with you," Erin said, and Ray was so intrigued by it that he agreed despite the awful glare Sora was giving him.

Ray hurried out to wait in the hall. Sora cast his glare after him before drawing his attention back to Erin's softened expression. Her long brown hair was pulled over one shoulder, and she looked... relieved.

One thing Sora hated about leaving was that he had to leave her behind, too.

"I'm sorry for worrying you," Sora said.

"Mmhm, better be," Erin said, smiling. "And you better believe I'll be visiting you soon. The least I can do is make sure you aren't living in a warehouse without the owner's permission."

"Ha-ha, very funny," Sora said, voice as dry as the desert.

Erin pushed to her feet and, looping one leg over the chair, swung it back to the position it was previously found. She reached over and ruffled Sora's head, much to his distaste, and went off to find Ray. Sora fixed his hair back, scowling all the while, and watched his sister leave with a sour sensation settling in the pit of his stomach.

Ray waited out in the hall for movement to occur at the entrance to Sora's room. When it did, he perked up at the sight of Erin stepping past the curtain. She offered a bright smile that had Ray swooning a little. He may have been gay, but he could appreciate a nice smile when he saw one.

Erin shut the door like a doting mother ensuring that her child wouldn't wake to the sound of the door closing. As she stepped over, her heels clicked across the tiles and she sighed, tossing her long, flowing brown hair over her shoulder. She walked straight past Ray and said, "Come along—I heard they've got excellent food at the cafeteria."

"Really?" Ray said, snapping back into motion. "Sora said it tasted awful."

Erin examined her nails and said, flippantly, "Yes, well, Sora hates everything. Nothing new there. We already knew he was an edgelord."

Ray laughed and said, "Wow, so I guess you two are siblings. No one I know would say that about Sora."

Erin turned to him, fascination turning her face bright. "Oh? And who do you know that would say otherwise?"

Ray rolled his eyes and said, "Our whole class, practically. Maybe even our whole major. He's kind of a legend to them."

"But... not to you."

Well, living with the guy has sort of soiled my image of him... Ray thought, rubbing a finger to his cheek. He winced a little, smiling sheepishly. "Not really. We're just sort of... friends."

"Friends," Erin repeated. After a moment of walking in silence, she looked to her feet and clasped her hands behind her. Her smile was just as soft as her voice as she said, "I'm glad he's made a friend. Friends are... precious."

She tapped the elevator button and together, they waited, and Ray's conscience dampened with guilt. He wouldn't consider him and Sora friends, but it seemed like an appropriate lie to prevent Erin from knowing that they lived together.

But Erin's concern pitched Ray into another dilemma—a dilemma that surrounded the mysterious aura that enshrouded his roommate. After that night, Ray was starting to sift through that fog and, upon doing so, found some clarity. However, Erin's intrusion certainly muddled it back up.

Does he not have friends? Ray thought, lips pursed as they entered the elevator. He never did see Sora talk to anyone other than Charlie. Ray shook his head. Of course he has friends. Charlie's his friend!

The real question was now: Did Sora have any other friends? And this was the question that concerned Ray the most. He knew what it was like to not have friends, and it was because of this that he cherished Leo's instantaneous befriendment. If it weren't for Leo, Ray might still be sitting alone at every lecture, but now he had Huey and Barry as well.

"I'm glad he has someone to look after him if it isn't me or Robin," Erin said.

Ray froze on the very edge of the cafeteria archway. His brain flew itself all the way back to Sora's bedroom. Erin glanced back at him as he stammered, "R-Robin?"

Erin nodded. "My wife," she said.

Oh dear Lord in Heaven above, Ray thought, a hand to his forehead. Erin went on ahead to investigate the food as Ray's brain imploded because Sora did not, in fact, have a bird fettish.

He just had a dream about... kissing his sister's wife.

Does Robin know? Ray thought, and the idea that she did know only made the situation worse. What if they're having an affair? he thought in a panic, a hand over his rapidly beating heart. He thought he might throw up.

Living with Sora Ikeda was certainly a detriment to his heart.