The Storm Wolf: Gathering Clouds - 12. Coffee

Coffee: I know you're dying to crack some digestive jokes, but please don't.

The mutt's stance screamed unease--his tail tucked between his legs and the occasional absent-minded scratching of random spots were clear signs of how unbearable his anxiety was.

Good. Maybe this'll teach him some restraint.

Arthur stood silently behind me, clearly there to ensure I wouldn't lose control again. His posture and demeanor were a perfect replica of the demonstration in the basic training manual, yet to me, it was merely a source of inexplicable irritation. I supposed it was simply a product of the German Shepherd's years of training--nothing more than ingrained habit, devoid of deeper motives or schemes.

The oppressive silence eventually became intolerable, even for me. So, when the mutt snuck another furtive glance in my direction, I decided it was time to end his punishment.

"Press the switch." I tried to keep my tone even, attempting to sound calm. Yet, as soon as I spoke, the mutt flinched as if struck by a whip.

"Me?" he asked hesitantly, clearly confused. But I wasn't in the mood to repeat myself today, so I merely folded the tip of one ear in his direction to signal him.

The mutt must have understood my body language. Clearing his throat, he shuffled to the airlock's control panel and began operating it. Just as he was about to press the large red button, he paused and looked back at me.

"Shouldn't you... say something?" His tone was filled with hesitation and uncertainty. "Sir?"

"I've already said what needed to be said," I replied coolly, postponing my indulgence in reflection for a later time.

"Oh, uh... alright then." The mutt scratched his ear awkwardly before pressing the airlock switch.

With a swift whoosh, a small brown paper bag was sucked into space. Before I could even blink, it had disappeared into the endless void, as though it had never existed.

"Sir, I'm really sorry..." The mutt started making noise again. I noticed a faint red haze creeping into my vision.

"Silence." I nearly bit my own tongue but managed to keep the growl subdued. The fur on the mutt's body bristled instantly as he arched his back slightly in response.

"I'm sure there are plenty of tasks requiring Private Luther's undivided attention," Arthur said, his paw resting on the mutt's shoulder at some point without me noticing. "For example, cleaning the deck."

The mutt opened his mouth to protest, but after his gaze flicked between me and Arthur a few times, he ultimately decided to stay silent. Ears and snout lowered, he assumed a submissive posture and left without another word. Arthur followed without so much as a glance in my direction.

Whether the Shepherd intended to give me space or had other considerations, I couldn't muster the energy to care.

As I watched the outer airlock door close and felt the cabin begin repressurizing, the hollow sensation within me grew stronger.

Still staring into the boundless void, I caught a coyote's mental signature.

"You're late," I said in a measured tone, struggling to recall his name and rank while observing his reflection in the viewport as he scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

"The vibe was way off earlier. Only an idiot without any sense would barge in," he replied. His reasoning was solid, leaving me with nothing to argue against. I shrugged in acknowledgment. "How do you feel?"

"...Pretty ordinary." Turning inward, I analyzed my feelings before coming to a conclusion. "Not the 'closure' I imagined."

"The effect obviously varies from person to person," the coyote said, leaning forward to peer through the viewport. "But, really..." He scratched his chin, tilting his head to glance at me with a puzzled expression. "What was so special about that coffee bean to make you so furious?"

"Civets went extinct during the First Carnivore and Herbivore Wars. That bag of coffee beans was the last pack of civet coffee in the entire universe." I tried to keep my tone even as I lightly gripped the hilt of Gray Snow, taking comfort in its familiar, warm pulse.

The coyote didn't reply immediately. He simply regarded me with his amber eyes, waiting silently for me to continue.

"It was, undoubtedly, a precious coffee bean." After some time, the coyote, apparently convinced I wasn't going to say more, concluded the conversation for us and redirected his gaze to the viewport.

"It sure was." My murmur was barely audible, yet the bitterness on my tongue was unmistakable.

"Have you ever tried it? The civet coffee?" His question caught me off guard, and I hesitated for a moment.

"No." Only now did I find myself questioning why I had never considered using the beans.

"That does seem like a bit of a waste," the coyote remarked, his tone detached, as though commenting on something distant and irrelevant.

"It is... a bit of a waste." I stared at my reflection in the viewport, my eyes-- blue as a cloudless sky--staring back at me. "But at this point, it's too late to dwell on it."

"Permission to speak freely, sir," the coyote said, his tone unusually neutral compared to his usual demeanor when making such requests.

"Granted." I responded, curious about what peculiar thoughts were brewing in the coyote's mind this time.

"I'm quite certain that saying nothing is what's truly too late to dwell on it." The coyote spoke with conviction. "That's why uninhibited drunks are the wisest--they always manage to turn their problems into someone else's."

"Profoundly... thought-provoking." Finally, I remembered his name. "Private First Class José."

"My duty, sir." The coyote replied. I didn't miss the fleeting upward twitch of his lips.

For the rest of the time, we stood in silence, watching the airlock and the infinite void beyond--until José excused himself, claiming he had to ensure the water circulation system kept running.