[Quite honestly, someone could have broken into the priest's apartment and murdered his host body before Mukuro would have gotten out of bed, but the sound of the priest calling out to him was enough to rouse him. Sleepily, he poked his head out from underneath the covers, waiting to see if the priest was going to come into the bedroom or not.

He waited a few minutes before gathering his strength. The medicine must have been kicking in because he didn't want to immediately die when he sat up. He chugged the rest of the water like a champ before drawing the blankets around him like a child, heading out into the kitchen, steps slow and measured.]

Welcome back.

[His voice sounded rough to his own ears, and he couldn't help but wince slightly, going to sit down at the table, exhausted from the short trek.]

Thank you for the water and medicine. [Then, annoyed:] How do people do this so often? I feel terrible. How are you so functional?