Where the sea sleeps [HoonHao] ✔

04

Somebody shakes him awake.

When he opens his eyes, he comes face to face with the captain who towers over him, the pale moonlight shining hitting him in such a way that he seems to stand out even more in the darkness.

"Come on," Minghao says, standing up. He offers a hand and, when he confirms he's steady on his feet, he jumps over, catching onto the ladder. Instead of climbing down like he did hours ago, he shifts to the side and then looks over. It takes him a moment to realize that Minghao was waiting for him and when he does realize this, he jumps.

His hands grip the ladder firmly, one leg dangling. Despite this, he's a little proud of himself for not falling down onto the deck, what with the luck he's had since encountering the ship. He can feel Minghao's hand on his upper arm, as if to assure that if something happens, he'll catch him.

They climb down together. The deck is completely empty, and as he follows Minghao, he realizes that they're going down the way he'd gone with Dino to the medbay. Except they turn the other way and go down another set of steps, the faint noise of chatter getting louder the closer they go.

"Hey, stranger!" The tall guy greets from across the room. He's got a spatula in his hand and a grin so wide, it's impossible to look away. "Come in! Have a seat!" he's talking over the chatter and it's not until he turns that he realizes Minghao has already taken a seat between two crewmates on the one side of the table. He approaches stiffly, unsure of where to take a seat.

A hand curls around his arm and tugs him down. Looking up, he recognizes the navigator's face first. It takes a moment for the name to click and by then, Vernon has already looked away.

"You can sit by us," Hoshi says. He remembers his nickname without fail. The actual name is what he's forgotten. "Mingyu prefers sitting by the captain anyway."

"You remember nothing?" He doesn't catch who speaks, but his gaze flickers over to the first mate who stares quietly, a cup in hand. His face is flushed and his expression is firm and the person that speaks next.

"Do you have a name?"

"I do not know," he replies after a moment. There's a faint whirr of annoyance with the constant need to inform them that he had no memories whatsoever. Turning his head, his eyes fall onto the large cup being handed over to him by Vernon. He accepts it without hesitation, chugging it down.

Only to place it down, coughing and spluttering.

A chorus of laughter echoes around him, though he chooses to ignore, keeping his head down. It's the next chuckle that joins in that has him looking up at a grinning Vernon.

"Sorry," he says. "Should have told you that was beer."

"This is beer?" he queries in disbelief. He hates the taste; it's terrible, strong and has the worst kick to it.

"You get used to the taste," Scoups affirms, pouring the cup full. He makes a face before chugging it down.

And spluttering again. Naturally.

"Hell," someone says. He doesn't catch who. With the way they're all talking and the odd, buzzed feeling hitting his head, he couldn't really keep up. Though it's Vernon who has a hand on his shoulder. So maybe it's him speaking. "Your face is red," he emphasizes.

"He looks woozy," Minghao comments. There's a murmur between the others and he's cup is topped up again.

"Woozi," Vernon states. Everyone is looking over at them and when he looks up at the navigator, he's got this wide gummy smile. "That's what we'll call you. Woozi."

His and Minghao's gazes lock and he's lifting a brow. "Can't handle your alcohol?" he asks.

"S'pose not," he slurs softly. He looks away, unable to hold Minghao's gaze any longer and instead looks the other way only for Scoups to lift his cup. Minghao follows and soon, they're all doing it. Even Mingyu comes over and grabs a cup and joins in.

"A name to a face," Minghao says. "Welcome to the crew."

It's after supper when he joins Mingyu in cleaning up. The others have gone off to their respective stations so it's just the two of them. For the first few minutes, there's a dragging pause. Which Mingyu takes care of.

"You don't need to help me," he says abruptly.

"I do not mind," he assures and watches the way Mingyu's face morphs into a look of appreciation. Rather than saying anything, he turns away and grabs some of the dishes on the table.

"So, Woozi, huh? Do you like it?"

"Perhaps. I suppose I could grow used to it," he admits. The conversation ends there and the rest of the time is spent in silence until Mingyu excuses himself to take a nap and he goes on up to the deck.

He thinks about it. Seriously thinks about it and how he could grow an attachment. After all, it's not that bad of a name. Frankly, having a name to himself was better than having the crew be unsure of how to address him. His lips quirk, though he shakes it off and climbs up to his own station.

Minghao is already there, staring out at the ocean. Though at the sound of Woozi landing, he whips around.

"What are you doing up here?" he queries, taking a seat beside him and following his gaze. A blanket is draped over his legs; it's not all that big and the colour has faded so much so that he cannot quite be sure of what the actual colour is. Pulling it up around him, he releases a soft exhale, ready to thank him before he's interrupted.

"You know what to do right?"

"Alert you if I see anything," he replies smoothly without missing a beat.

"Exactly."

His brow crinkles. "Why was this position open?" he murmurs into the growing silence around them.

"It always has been," Minghao states, a distant look in his eyes. "For as long as I can remember. Even before it was handed over to me and there was just never a need to fill it. Hoshi managed alright switching between his position and this one."

"Until now?"

Minghao stands up. "You showed up. We had a position open. That's all there is to it," he says. With a final look his way, he jumps over and disappears down the ladder and Woozi is left in the breezy silence once again.

He figures it's something he'll need to get used to. Though it's so much better than being stranded on that boat alone. He can admit that, at the very least.