Taking a deep breath, he grabbed his trunk and pushed through the entrance. A cramped landing with post boxes, winding metal stairs that groaned under his weight. The distant drone of a TV filtered from somewhere below.

Then the smell hit him—a wall of stench that made his eyes water. Nothing in his books had prepared him for this assault on his senses. The odor leaked from a common kitchen where dishes formed geological formations in the sink. Pizza boxes teetered in precarious towers. The smell of spoiled dairy made his stomach clench.

He pulled out his crumpled room assignment. Number 36.

When he found it, he froze. The door was plastered with stickers—band names he didn't recognize, strange symbols, a sign reading "DO DISTURB" where someone had covered the "NOT" with tape.

A name tag on the door made his stomach drop.

'36 Erik Sjöström'

Someone had added red dots over the O's.

Yosuke flipped through his papers again, glasses balancing on his forehead. This had to be a mistake. The room was clearly occupied, but the Doctor's papers had promised him his own space.

He pressed his ear against the door. Silence.

His knuckles had barely grazed the wood when a voice made him jump.

"Yo, he's not home!"

The words came out slow and easy. Yosuke startled, hurried to pull his glasses back down from his forehead—but the heavy frames slid too far, settling low on his nose.

A boy lounged against the wall in a worn tank top and basketball shorts. Tall—much taller than Yosuke—with skin that looked warm and golden. Dark hair fell past his ears in messy layers. Thick eyebrows shadowed brown slanted eyes that seemed to find everything amusing. His face was all sharp angles and strong lines, like someone had drawn him with bold strokes.

Everything about him seemed relaxed and confident, from his bare feet to the crooked grin that suggested he was always up to no good.

"I... I am Yosuke." The words tumbled out as Yosuke fell into a deep bow that nearly sent his glasses sliding off. "Your new neighbor. Let's be friends!"

The boy's laugh exploded through the hallway, bright and sharp. His whole face transformed with it.

"Friends? Dude, why would I be friends with you? Looking all stiff like that—I don't even know you!"

Before Yosuke could react, quick fingers were at his waist, yanking his carefully tucked shirt free.

"Hey!" Yosuke stumbled back, one hand instinctively finding the necklace beneath his shirt.

"Yo, that's way better!" The boy winked. "See, if you're gonna hang with me, you can't look like such a square! Though those glasses are totally kick-ass. Mad vintage vibes."

Like a cat suddenly bored with its toy, he sauntered past Yosuke into the kitchen, all loose limbs and restless energy. Yosuke watched him scratch his armpit and yawn, movements more simian than human.

The boy dropped to his knees and began ransacking the refrigerator, tossing empty containers behind him.

"So you're Erik's new roomie, right? Word's been going around..." His voice echoed from inside the fridge. "What's your deal anyway—rich parents ship you off to boarding school?"

"Actually..." Yosuke adjusted his glasses. "I woke up in a hospital three weeks ago. I don't remember anything before that."

The boy stopped mid-rummage, clutching a pastry that looked like it had been stepped on. He tore into it with savage enthusiasm, talking through a mouthful of cream and crumbs.

"No way! That's like, totally trippy. You're telling me you got zero life experience?"

"I had to learn how to use a spoon again," Yosuke said quietly. "And doors. Doors were surprisingly complicated."

"Dude, that's totally wild!" Flecks of pastry flew from his lips. "But like, why're you here alone? No family to help or whatever?"

"I'm just... alone." Yosuke mumbled and watched in horrified fascination as the boy devoured the rest in two massive bites, tongue darting out to catch escaped filling. There was something almost aggressive about his eating, like he was showing off his freedom to be disgusting.

"Leon Quaver." He finally introduced himself, licking his fingers with theatrical relish. "Though if you're gonna be all proper about it, it's Leonaaaard." He drew out the name in a mocking sing-song. "But seriously, don't call me that."

Yosuke felt his carefully maintained politeness cracking. This boy—Leon—represented everything the hospital wasn't: chaos, disorder, crude humanity.

The real world, in all its messy glory.

"Yo, you must be hella rich or something," Leon wiped cream from his chin, eyes sharp despite his casual slouch. "Looking all fancy like that? You got like a TV in that thing? It's massive, we could use an upgrade in the common room."

"Pardon?"

"Pardon?" Leon's laugh ricocheted off the grimy walls. "Man, you're definitely some rich kid... throwing around fancy words like that..." He lurched forward suddenly, peering at Yosuke. "Wait, are you hungry? I got like two Twinkies left in there, but some moron ruined the box so they're all mushy now. You want one?"

Yosuke blinked, taking an instinctive step back. "I... I don't know what a Twinkie is."

Leon's jaw dropped. "You don't—dude. Dude. We gotta fix that immediately. Like right now. How do you not know what—" He spun back toward the fridge, already moving. "Okay, this is actually tragic. I'm gonna—"

"I need to unpack!" Yosuke blurted out, backing toward his door.

"But the Twinkies—"

"I'd like to be alone!" The words came out sharper than intended.

Leon's eyebrows shot up. "What happened to 'let's be friends'?"

"You won't be seeing it again, I promise." Yosuke's hand found the doorknob. "As for the big TV screen, if I had one I wouldn't be sharing it with you."

He slipped inside and slammed the door.

Through the wood, he heard Leon's muffled "What the hell?"

Yosuke slid down the door, pulse racing. His carefully constructed politeness lay in ruins. He wasn't sure he even knew what friendship meant.

The room felt eerily quiet as he finally looked around. Clean white walls, except for Erik's side where carefully framed photographs formed a perfect grid. A Dave Matthews Band poster showed men with instruments in an autumn field.

Yosuke unpacked his books methodically, lining them on the empty shelf. Through the window, the view stretched to infinity. Below, waves tumbled dark rocks smooth while twisted trees bent in the salt wind.

As afternoon light softened, Yosuke sorted his books into empty shelves. His fingers traced one about mythology and decided to leave the rest of the books unpacked. He sat down on the blank canvas that was his side of the room and lost himself in stories of mermaids and centaurs. After meeting Leon, after feeling his own secrets stir beneath his skin, who was to say what was real?

A door slammed outside. Yosuke nearly dropped his book as the door swung open. A tall boy stood in the doorway, backlit by the hall light like a prince from those children's books Wilkes had made him read - back when they discovered reading wasn't something his brain had forgotten. His sun-bleached hair was perfectly combed, almost fluffy in its precision, floating around a face that seemed carved rather than grown. Everything about him was pale and faded, from his light brows to gray eyes, even the pink flush across his forehead and nose. His skin stretched firm over delicate cheekbones, facial muscles barely moving as he smiled - just thin creases around lips that were nearly the same color as his skin, not pink-red like Yosuke's own.

He carried himself with an adult's careful grace, from his measured steps to the way he assessed the room. When his eyes landed on Yosuke, something flickered in their gray depths - a flash of recognition, as if he'd seen someone like Yosuke before. The scent of lemons and spices followed him into the room.

"So you're my new roommate!" Erik carefully placed his leather messenger bag on his desk hook, toeing off his Puma sneakers and arranging them perfectly beside his bed. "I'm Erik Sjöström. Sorry about the wait - I was at the school, helping set up some drama club equipment."

The small room felt even smaller as Yosuke pressed himself against the wall.

"I'm Yosuke," Yosuke said softly. His shoulder blades itched just like it had done during his last test.

"Joskey," Erik repeated wrongly. The principal filled me in about your situation." He hung his denim jacket with precise movements, smoothing invisible wrinkles. "Must be rough, waking up with no memories, no family." His tone was gentle but matter-of-fact, like he was handling something delicate.

"I've got no other references, so I wouldn't know," Yosuke answered earnestly.

"Huh," Erik touched his jaw thoughtfully, "I've been assigned to help new students adjust - it's literally my job as Junior class representative." Erik's smile was measured, professional. "Whatever you need - directions, introductions, social guidance - I've got you covered."

The door burst open. "Pretty boy!" Leon launched himself at Erik, who caught him with practiced grace, returning the hug with dignified restraint. "Man, I've been dying without my study buddy! Summer school was brutal - total ghost town!"

"Failed again?" Erik straightened his collar where Leon had rumpled it. "Maybe if you spent less time practicing drum solos..."

"Dude, don't mind Mr. Perfect here," Leon told Yosuke, sprawling across Erik's meticulously made bed. "He's like a total nazi about everything - but like, the helpful kind? Like some robot programmed to serve humanity through perfect posture and color-coded study guides."

"I've read about Nazi Germany," Yosuke said nervously from his corner. "You're not really a..."

Erik's lip twitched. "No. Leon exaggerates. I simply believe in order and efficiency."

"See? Robot." Leon grinned, then his eyes darted between Erik and Yosuke. "Wait - you're not one of those, are you? Enhanced?"

The word hit like a slap. Yosuke's pulse skipped.

"No... why would I?" He thrust out his unmarked thumb, trying to keep his hand steady.

"Just checking! 'Cause you're like, way too pretty to be normal." Leon flashed his own mark-free thumb. "People think I'm Enhanced too sometimes. Welcome to the hot people club!"

Erik let out a sharp laugh. "Leon, literally no one has ever confused you with being Enhanced."

"Dude! Harsh!"

"You failed sophomore year. Twice." Erik ticked off on his fingers with clinical precision. "Your eyes are brown, not blue. You had the flu last winter and were out cold for two weeks - remember when you whined in the common room for everyone to buy you paracetamol because you were 'dying'?"

"I was very sick!"

"Enhanced don't get sick like that." Erik turned to Yosuke with that measured smile. "He's also tone-deaf, has terrible stamina despite two years on the varsity basketball team, and once ate so much gas station sushi he threw up in the school parking lot."

"That could happen to anyone!" Leon protested, but he was grinning.

"Not to Enhanced people. They have superior immune systems."

"They have?" Yosuke asked softly, blinking.

"Whatever, man. The hot people club stands." Leon looked at Yosuke. "Right Yosuke?"

Yosuke just stared at them both, overwhelmed. A stiff, confused smile pulled at his lips as he leaned back against the wall. Erik's deadpan delivery. Leon's shameless confidence. The way they moved around each other like this was a routine they'd performed a hundred times.

Real teenage boys. Here to teach him how to become real too.

Alive.

"I... don't know what that means," Yosuke admitted quietly, swallowing. "Being hot."

"See?" Leon pointed at Erik triumphantly. "He's so pure! We gotta protect him."

"We should probably let him unpack first," Erik said, but his gray eyes held something like amusement. "Though fair warning - Leon's definition of 'help' usually involves breaking things."

"One time! I broke one thing one time!"

"Three things. Last semester alone."

The conversation flowed easier after that, even with Leon's constant interruptions. Yosuke found himself drawn into their rhythm - Erik's measured responses, Leon's wild tangents, the way they orbited each other like familiar planets.

Maybe the old Doctor had been right. Maybe he would do better here, with boys his own age who seemed genuinely intrigued by him. For the first time since waking up in that hospital bed, Yosuke felt the possibility of belonging.