The man stood up like he had been deeply wronged, like a child scolded for something he didn't do. He clasped his hands in front of him, nervously rubbing the tips of his index fingers together, head lowered, eyes still red, tears threatening to fall again.
"You… um… you were too… tired yesterday. Then I—"
Watching him stutter and trip over his words, Kaya pinched the bridge of her nose in growing frustration.
Now, normally, Kaya wasn't the type to get irritated so easily. Really, she wasn't. And she definitely wasn't a prejudiced person. If the guy had a real speech issue, she'd have been more patient.
But this guy?
He was stuttering because he was scared. That's it. Scared and dramatic. And she wasn't in the mood.
"Stop stuttering," she said flatly, rubbing her temple. "Just speak clearly."
He choked mid-sentence. His lips quivered. And right on cue—plop. The tears started again.
Kaya blinked. Absolutely stunned.
"…Are you a girl?"
The words escaped her before she could filter them.
She didn't even know how to react anymore. In less than half a day—no, probably just a few hours—she had somehow reduced this man to a sobbing mess. Repeatedly.
Trying to calm herself, she inhaled deeply and asked, this time more gently, "Look. Can you just tell me—where is this place? What am I doing here? And can you explain it without crying?"
The man hiccuped but pulled himself together, inhaling deeply through his nose. He nodded, determined to hold it in, and finally managed to speak.
"Last night, I saw you… your feet were hurt, so I tried to heal them. But you collapsed before I could ask anything. You were so tired. I didn't know where you came from, or if anyone was nearby, so I brought you here."
He paused, then his expression turned awkward. "And when I laid you down… you were wearing this strange thing…"
He gestured vaguely at her, his hands flailing a little in the air. Apparently, he didn't know what to call a coat. He looked around, then his eyes landed on it—her coat, still lying on the ground. He picked it up and pointed with exaggerated effort, like he was reenacting a dramatic scene.
"This thing. Yes. Here," he said, pointing at the pocket. "Inside it… something started moving. I panicked. So I checked."
He looked at her cautiously and added in a quiet voice, "There was a bird in it. A sparrow."
Kaya blinked. "A sparrow."
"And then," he said quickly, as if rushing to confess before she hit him again, "when I checked the other side—there was a snake."
Kaya stood there, staring at him. Her coat. Contained a bird. And a snake.
She didn't know what was more shocking—that he went through her stuffOr maybe what shocked Kaya more… was that both of her emergency food rations—a sparrow and a snake—didn't abandon her when she collapsed.
Loyal little meatballs, she thought dryly, snatching her coat back from the blubbering man like a mom snatching her toddler's toy mid-tantrum.
She gave him a pointed look. "What about the other things?"
The man blinked, then suddenly looked as if he'd just remembered something very important. His eyes widened, and with dramatic flair, he reached up and grabbed one of his own ears—yes, his ears—and rubbed it nervously.
And then—
Clank!
From one ear fell her gun.
Thud!
From the other, her knife.
Kaya stared at the items on the ground.
Then at him.
Then at his ears.
"...Are you Doraemon?" she asked slowly, raising a brow. "Or Chimpui? Be honest."
The man looked like he might cry again.
Seeing that this guy was about to burst into tears again, Kaya rolled her eyes so hard it felt like she could see her brain from the back of her skull. She let out a sigh, turned to him, and deadpanned, "Stop crying. Don't even think about it."
The man, who looked ready to sob for the second time in five minutes, froze mid-sniffle. His lips trembled, but he nodded quickly.
Kaya's gaze shifted from his tear-streaked face to the people surrounding him. She scanned them slowly, and then asked, "Where's my food, Rati— I mean, the sparrow and the snake you found?"
Cutie, still jittery, perked up at her voice and nodded hurriedly. "Oh! Yeah, yes—just a moment—"
Kaya's eyes narrowed. This time, she stared straight at his ears, waiting for him to nervously scratch or tug at them again—and get those two out from there But instead, Cutie turned around and motioned to one of the men in the group.
This man was lean—frail compared to Cutie—but still held a sturdy, gym-toned look. Not bulky, but the kind that had probably never skipped leg day. A "gym guy," as Kaya would've labeled him if she had the energy.
Catching Cutie's look, Gym Guy moved quickly. He stepped forward and pulled out a small cage woven from bamboo strips. He held it out in both hands, presenting it like an offering to a very dangerous queen.
Kaya arched a brow. Her eyes finally dropped to the cage.
"Oh," she muttered, lips twitching. "So here you are."
The moment the so-called prisoners heard her voice—
Chirp-Pop-Poppppp!
("Damn female! Eeeee—You're alive?!")
The sparrow grabbed the narrow wooden bars with his wings, eyes wide as he stared at her like he'd seen a ghost.
Seeing him, Kaya let out a scoff and bent down to pick up the cage, holding it up like it weighed nothing. She stared at the tiny prisoner inside with a look that was somewhere between disbelief and amusement.
"Hah… are you even a bird, or just a malfunctioning voice box?" she teased, arching an eyebrow. "Since when does a chirp sound like popppp? Huh?"
The sparrow froze for a second, wings half-spread. Then his eyes widened—not with confusion, but with pure rage. His tiny chest puffed up, feathers bristling as he flung himself at the bamboo bars.
Chrrrippp! Chripp!
(How dare you… you bitch!)