Drops of Dew in Our Glass (Tales of Zestiria fanfiction)

The Day After

Sequel to Festival. Mikleo and Sorey go about their everyday lives.

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Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt!

An insanely loud noise awoke the boy from his dreams with a shrill bzzt! He groaned, lying on his stomach and nuzzling insistently into his pillow, as if it would make the noise stop.

It didn't.

He groaned again, arms loosening their hold on the poor pillow as he rolled over onto his back. The action caused him to wince, the feathers on his ears pulling at their clasps under his weight. He caught the bus between Marlind and Ladylake to get back. Upon arriving home, he stumbled up the stairs and crashed almost immediately. By a miracle he got to his room and fell asleep in his bed.

Needless to say, the alarm clock on his nightstand couldn't care less about his exhaustion. It continuing its shrill, metallic beeps. He writhed in agony under the assault on his ears for a few moments. Then he finally reached his limit and rolled over. His hand came down on the infernal device with deadly precision, silencing its cries.

Free of its torment, he rolled onto his back with a sigh, staring at his ceiling with bleary eyes. He could hear pots and pans rustling, the sound of oil crackling from across the hall. The ever-tempting smell of bacon wafted under his nose, and made his stomach growl. A grave reminder of the fact that that he hadn't had much to eat last night, too caught up in his yearly tradition and too startled by that other boy to remember to eat.

That whole encounter-- the last part of it, really-- had left his mind reeling and his heart confused. All he knew was that he really wished the other boy had stayed for just a bit longer. Who knows what would have happened then? Who knows if he would even see him again? The thought brought a pang of regret in his chest.

There was no time to dwell on that, however, as a loud clang of what could only be someone hitting a pot suddenly rang throughout his room. He winced, squeezing his eyes shut and covering his ears.

"Sorey, my boy! Up and at 'em!" a man's deep voice boomed from the doorway, as well as more metallic clanging as the unfortunate pot was beaten again and again.

"Noo..." Sorey protested weakly, "Five more minutes..." he said, curling up with his blankets into a little ball on his bed.

"Nonsense! Those feet aren't going to drag themselves downstairs, are they?" the voice replied, punctuating his words with a hit of the pot. Poor pot.

"They'll do it if we believe in them..." Sorey said, shaking his head slowly and tugging the blanket over his head.

"Sorey." the voice said, and he could hear heavy footsteps coming closer to him.

He shrank back in his blanket cocoon, doing everything he could to get himself as far away as possible because oh no--

BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG!

"Rise and shine!!"

His mouth opened to let out a high-pitched scream in perfect harmony with the dying hair cells in his ears. Although it could barely be heard over the deafening BANGs of the ladle hitting the pot right by his head.

"I'm up! I'm up!" Sorey cried desperately, rolling over so fast that he fell off his bed and landed on the cold hardwood floor with a thud.

Sorey sat up, groaning as he rubbed his back. He opened his eyes to find a hand outstretched in front of his face, and he took it, gratefully helping himself up.