“So who is he really?  I’ve never seen him before.”  The two siblings had retreated to the kitchen, both to get out of the way and to find refreshments.  At least Hinata had come for drinks and snacks; Shirou had been waiting for a chance to grill his sister about the mysterious male she’d brought home.<br/><br/>The pink-haired woman groaned in response, pushing her brother out of the way in search of the cups.  If she remembered correctly.. yep.  She withdrew six glasses, placing them on a tray she’d pulled out from beside the microwave.<span style="color: pink"> “I’d hope you’d never seen him before.  He’s my <span style="font-style: italic">boss</span>, Shirou.”</span>She shot him a long-suffering look even as he recoiled in surprise, craning his head to get a better view of the long-haired stranger.<br/><br/>“I never thought you were the type to get your boss naked, Hinana!”  A foot impacted violently with his calf, but he only crowed triumphantly, “Hah! You’re not wearing your heels, Hinana!  It doesn’t hurt as much! Ow!”  His victory was short lived when he suddenly got smacked on the head.<br/><br/><span style="color: pink"> “Stop being useless and bring these out!”</span>Hinata snapped in response, waving her knife at the tray of drinks.<br/><br/>“You’re just going to send me back out when you finish cutting the pears..”  Nonetheless, Shirou turned to pull out a bag of crackers, arranging them on a plate in an attempt at being useful.  “But, uh, hit by a car? How does that even happen?  Run into the road to save a kid like in those animes?”  There was another long-suffering groan in response.  “Wait, what?! Really?!”<br/><br/><span style="color: pink"> “If only!”</span>Her hand lashed out in a wordless expression of anger, made all the more dangerous for the knife she’d forgotten was in her hand.<span style="color: pink"> “At least that would make <span style="text-decoration: underline">sense</span>!  No!  He was standing in the road waving at the car!”</span>The taxi driver had informed her of what had happened when she was texting Mimi during the ride to the apartment building.<span style="color: pink">“The one that came and hit him!  Good god, save me from..”</span>The rest of her tirade petered out into insensible muttering, punctuated by vicious chops of her knife.  With a bewildered look at his fuming sister, Shirou decided it best<span style="font-style: italic">not</span>to ask any more.  Maybe one of the others could explain better, and less dangerously.<br/><br/>When they exited the kitchen, Amiboshi was wrapping bandages around Naruhiko’s torso and Suboshi was snickering at the manga-ka.  “Personal assistant huh?  That means you get to boss her around, right?”  His animosity at the stranger had vanished once he’d learned the dark-haired man wasn’t a love rival with his brother.  “Make her clean our apartment for us!”  If the kick to his calf was any indicator, Hinata didn’t seem fond of that idea.  “Hey! I need that for practice!”<br/><br/><span style="color: pink">“Sorry,”</span>She deadpanned,<span style="color: pink">“Instinctive reaction to stupidity.”</span><br/><br/>“How is that stupid? You’re a girl, girls—”<br/><br/>“Well, he looks okay to me.”  Amiboshi cut in, raising his voice to drown out his younger brother.  “From his reactions, I’m guessing he bruised his ribs.  I can’t feel anything wrong, but of course it’d be better to get an X-Ray done to be sure.  Would you be able to go?”  An awkward silence answered his inquiry so the sandy haired man correctly assumed it was a no.  “Well then, just watch it for the next few days.  It’ll get worse tomorrow but if it’s not improving in three days’ time, you really should get it X-rayed and looked at.”<br/><br/>Somehow Hinata had the feeling that come hell or high water, Izumi-san would look like roses the next few days.  It was clear Shirou hadn’t mentioned her boss’s fear of hospitals to the other two, which was the polite thing to do except for when she was obligated to make sure the nosocomephobic didn’t die.<br/><br/><span style="color: pink"> “Well, here, just drink this, Izumi-san.  We’ll worry about that when we get to it.”</span>She handed him one of the glasses, passing a second to Amiboshi and keeping one for herself.<span style="color: pink">“Should he take any painkillers?  Ice the wound or anything?”</span><br/><br/>Any response Amiboshi might have given was cut off by sudden hysterical laughter and the sound of glass breaking.  “Is it true, Izumi-san?  You were just waving at the car when you got hit?”  Suboshi was clutching his chair for support, cackling so madly he seemed at risk of falling off.  His sweetened oolong tea was a puddle of liquid and glass at his feet, no doubt having fallen from his hands while he laughed.  Glass shards covered the ground, twinkling like new frost on the wooden floo