Mountains and Buffalo.

Chapter 27: Siege Beginning.

My eyes pried themselves open. Little in lighting, the room was easy to adjust to. I spent a few seconds rubbing them and stretching, and then I became confused because my core wouldn't stretch like the rest of my body. My environs registered with me. I settled my arms on sturdy but soft armrests. I was still on the couch.

"..."

I didn't know what to think of the situation. The moments before my sleep were hazy, but I knew myself well enough to construct the memory. I planted my face in my palms and groaned, leaning over.

"Damn you, Kenny. Damn you..."

I started rubbing again, but I stretched and pulled at the features of my face as if the action would shake away the shame. It didn't, though, so I stopped. I pulled my hands away from my head and stood up from the couch, looking around me.

People were there, chatting. A few at first, but more as groups left the sleeping room and entered the kitchen. I hadn't even noticed them. At the very least, I knew why my awakening was so sudden. I would've laughed if it wasn't for the intrusion of my bashful dry throat.

"Crap."

I had to get a drink of water, and I also had to eat. I took a few steps forward, noticing how woozy my gait was. It took a great deal of effort to get my legs straight. Once I did, I shambled to the kitchen door but was stopped.

"Heya, kid. Good mornin'."

It was a familiar voice, and the second-to-last one I wanted to hear at that moment: Juke's. His greeting stopped me in my tracks and jerked the sweat out of my pores. I turned to him, almost instinctively, and stared.

I didn't say anything, because he did first.

"I just wanna apologize to ya, for, y'know. I was tired and loose last night, I had no business gettin' riled up at ya."

"...Uh."

My silence continued. It was for a familiar reason, but what caused it, wasn't. I didn't know what to say, to put it.

"Don't give me that look, kid. The last thing I wanna hear now is that I broke yer psyche."

"O-Oh, no, you did no such thing! Don't worry, uh..."

I stumbled over my words, and my destitute body made it only harder to utter them. I gave a half-assed attempt at composing myself and replied.

"I appreciate– thank you, for the apology, but I don't think you need to do it or anything. Really, it's fine, no hard feelings."

Juke's eyes narrowed, ever so slightly, delivering a devastating deadpan.

"I don't believe a word yer sayin', kid. But if ya say ya accept my apology, then I believe ya. Now if ya don't mind, I'll go feast on the food they got 'ere. It ain't often I get grub for free."

He said that, rubbing his hands together with a satisfied grin. Before he left, though, I felt like I had to say something.

"W-Wait, Juke. I just want to say that, I'm sorry too."

His smirk vanished, and his eyebrow raised. His hands were still together, though.

"What for? Ya didn't do anythin'. Relax, kid."

With that remark, he started and finished his journey to the kitchen. I stood there, my body begging me to fill it with liquid, but I couldn't even move. Ordinarily, I would've lamented that; I was growing tired of feeling this way. But it was a different type of paralyzation. The type I'd imagine would happen, plopping yourself on the bed after a hard day of work.

Though I couldn't agree with his words, their impact was undeniable. A weight was lifted off my chest, one I didn't even have the time to identify, and a smile found itself on my face.

It was still a challenge for more reasons than just my body, but I managed to step foot into the kitchen, granting my anatomy what it had been craving.

–

–

–

The room was crowded to a suffocating degree, as a kitchen of this size wasn't designed for the nine people in it. Despite that, however, I found a stool and countertop to have my meal, as milquetoast as it was. Milk, bread, and fruit. It was as I crushed that bread between my teeth that I met the second person of that day. It was a face I dreaded to see.

"Good morning, star child. What think you of the food in this humble residence?"

"...Trevor."

The chubby man with a face too sophisticated for a place like this. That's what I regarded him as, but I didn't dare forget his rotten personality. Or, rather, what he did.

"Your eyes have lots of malice. What did I do to deserve such scorn?"

"Calling me a star child, for one. And, for the second, I'm sure you know."

He chuckled, holding his arms behind his back.

"Was it that little stunt I pulled yesterday? But does such an innocuous gesture warrant that glare?"

"Innocuous? Anything but, Trevor. Anything but. And it isn't the gesture that matters, rather, the thoughts behind them."

"Hmm..."

He held his hand to his chin, lost in thought for a moment.

"You're the type who'd frown at grants as a gift, aren't you?"

"H-Huh? Do you take me as crazy!?"

I nearly spat out the bread in my mouth, hearing such a ridiculous conclusion. Then, I realized what Trevor was doing– or what I suspected he was doing. I quickly cooled my temper, doing my best to ignore his snarky face. Though, it wasn't.