When Dr. Matthew Hale reaches the treatment room, he slows before the door. Voices drift through, more than he expected, but they're not loud.
The tone is careful, contained. He hears Japanese, flowing and quick, then pauses, listening just long enough to recognize reassurance rather than urgency.
He steps inside, and sees Ryoma sitting upright on the bed, phone pressed to his ear, speaking softly in Japanese.
His bandaged hands make the grip awkward, but he doesn't seem bothered by it. His expression is calm, almost gentle.
"…I know, Mom," Ryoma says. "I'm really fine. They wouldn't let me talk if I wasn't."
Sera notices Hale first and leans toward him, lowering his voice.
"He's talking to his mother."
Ryoma nods as if responding to something emphatic on the other end. "No, I'm not hiding anything. I promise. I'm in the hospital, yes. But it's just observation." He turns, and pauses. "There's a doctor here now."
