11 | I Will Survive

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Ray woke up the next day—or rather, that same morning—like the ghost of his former self. His brain tended to go apeshit buckwild and kicked into party mode at around two in the morning every night, so he always tried to get to bed by one at the latest (since it tended to take a copious amount of time and effort to fall asleep). And, considering Sora came back from work at three, Ray's brain was still alive, active, and obsessed by its newest recruit: Any And All Topics To Do With Sora Ikeda.

"I can't believe he took me shopping," Ray whispered to himself several hours before he woke up, pacing his bedroom. He had all of the clothes laid out, folded neatly, and stacked into appropriate outfits.

Ray thought this very same thing the next morning when, upon opening his eyes, he lied facing the stacks of clothes. It was the first thing he saw that morning, and while it wasn't an unpleasant view, it certainly was alarming.

Sora had taken him shopping. Shopping! Him!

Ray sat up on the mattress, still bundled in a sleeping bag because he had been too disoriented the night before to properly make the bed. He scratched at his rumpled, black hair with a frown, a scowl, and a gruff grumble under his breath, saying, "Ridiculous."

He crawled out of bed, rolled across the wood floor, and picked up the first stack of clothes at his disposal. After properly dressing for the day, he made his way out of the room and acknowledged the fact that the kotatsu was empty, which meant that, at some point, Sora had woken up and went to sleep in his proper bed.

Ray yawned, taking the steps down to the main living space with light, albeit tired, feet. By then, it was well past the morning and going on noon, which meant that he needed to kick his ass into gear and get to class.

Ray wandered aimlessly to the bathroom door and pushed it open, blinking sleep out of his eyes. He rubbed at them as he reached for his toothbrush. He topped the bristles with toothpaste, dampened it under the faucet, and stuck it in his mouth.

There were some things that Morning Ray simply wasn't capable of dealing with. That morning, as Ray scrubbed his teeth squeaky clean whilst half-awake and bleary-eyed, he encountered something far beyond his current level of mental capacity. Something... mentally scarring, as some might say. And while some scars could be bore proudly, this one certainly wasn't inflicted during one of his finer moments.

Oblivious, Ray stood in front of the mirror and listened to the dreadful squeak of the shower door opening behind him.

He opened his eyes.

Through the fog in the mirror, he caught sight of a mop of messy black hair blurring with the steam, visible just over Ray's shoulder. Ray's eyes flew open wide, all sleep gone when Sora looked up and stilled at the sight of Ray standing there, toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, and eyes stuck on the dewey texture of Sora's bare shoulders.

Ray didn't say a damn thing. Sora didn't say a damn thing, looking half-blind without his glasses. The silence was palpable, like the humidity in the bathroom clinging to Ray's rising hair follicles.

Ray spun around, hands scrambling for purchase on the edge of the sink that dug into his lower back. Sora stared at him like some poor animal caught in headlights.

DON'T LOOK! Ray's brain screamed, but he was already staring at It.

"Get out!" Sora screamed in a panic, cupping a hand over his bare crotch.

"Shit!" Ray shrieked when Sora grabbed for a shampoo bottle and slapped Ray across the neck with it. "Sweet Mother of God! Ah! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" he cried, slidding out of the bathroom with his toothbrush in hand.

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