Chapter 23: On the Hunt

As Franklin, Sumi, and Tito exited the village, the villagers' eyes followed them, particularly Franklin, who bore the unfamiliar weight of both a rifle and the village's suspicions. His presence was a stark contrast against the backdrop of wary and curious faces, each one marked by the collective hardships of their lives.

Sumi, trailing slightly behind with Tito, had cotton balls in her ears, the white stained with traces of blood—a vivid reminder of the trauma still fresh from the gunshot that nearly cost her hearing. Franklin, noticing her distant gaze, questioned her decision to join the hunting party.

"So why is she coming along?" he asked, directing his question to Tito, who gave a nonchalant shrug.

"She said she wanted to come," Tito replied, glancing at Sumi as if hoping she'd offer more of an explanation herself.

Franklin looked over at Sumi, noting her blank stare into the distance, her mind seemingly caught between the echoes of past events and the present moment. "Don't you want to look after your father?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

Sumi, pulled back from her reverie by Franklin's gaze, blinked and focused on him. "Sorry, what did you say?" she asked, her voice soft and uncertain.

Tito, misunderstanding the extent of her hearing loss, leaned in close and cupped his hands around his mouth. "He asked you about your father!" he shouted into her ear.

Startled, Sumi recoiled slightly. "I can still hear a little bit better than that. You don't have to shout at me," she replied, a touch of irritation lacing her words.

Tito's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and he mumbled an apology, looking away.

Franklin paused, kneeling down in front of Sumi with a concerned frown, his hands gently grasping her shoulders as he examined her ears closely. "Are you okay?" he asked, his tone filled with worry.

Sumi nodded, though her hesitation was evident. "They said I'll lose my hearing gradually. It's okay though... I'm more worried about my father. They said he may have an infection," she replied, her voice tinged with a mix of resignation and concern.

Franklin's concern deepened as he processed her words. "Wait a minute. You are actually losing your hearing... that's horrible! The last thing you should be doing is being around another gunfire. Go back. We shouldn't risk your ears. Tito and I can handle the hunt on our own."

As he spoke, Jill suddenly appeared, stepping out from behind a bush where she had been hiding and following the trio. Franklin recoiled slightly, taken aback by her sudden presence. His eyes darted between Jill and Tito, piecing together her silent vigil.

Jill, unfazed by Franklin's surprise, interjected, "She doesn't have to head back. I have ear covers with me. I figured her condition would worsen."

"Have you been following us?" Franklin asked, his voice a mixture of disbelief and irritation. "I can't believe this... What about the village you left behind?"

Jill rolled her eyes, dismissing his concerns with a wave of her hand. "They have people that I trust who can look after them. You, on the other hand..." Her voice trailed off, leaving the implication hanging in the air.

Without another word, Jill stepped forward, placing ear muffs over Sumi's ears with a practiced ease. She then ruffled Tito's hair and walked past Franklin, her steps firm and her demeanor indicating she was taking charge of the situation.

Franklin watched her go, his annoyance visible but his objections unvoiced. He understood the necessity of her presence, even if it chafed against his independence. With a resigned sigh, he turned back to Sumi and Tito, nodding towards the path ahead.

"Alright, let's get this hunt over with," he said, his voice now carrying a determined edge. The group, now under Jill's watchful eye, moved deeper into the woods, their steps careful and their senses heightened for the task at hand.

The tension in the air was palpable as Franklin led the group deeper into the woods, his pace quick, his focus sharp. Jill followed closely, her eyes never straying far from Franklin, analyzing his every move as if trying to decipher his intentions or perhaps his competence.

Tito and Sumi lagged a bit behind, trying to inject some levity into the tense atmosphere. Tito made silly faces and crafted silent jokes, attempting to draw a smile from Sumi, who tried to stifle her giggles. Eventually, her laughter spilled out, breaking through the silence of the forest.

Franklin, already on edge, turned sharply at the sound of her laughter. His expression stern and visibly annoyed, he shushed them forcefully. But Tito, undeterred by the stern look, soon crafted another silent joke, causing Sumi to burst out laughing once more.

This was too much for Franklin. He stomped over to the two youngsters, his face red with anger, and yelled ferociously. "Ha ha, real funny little guy. Was that funny to you? Do you think this is a joke? Will you still be laughing on an empty stomach tonight? Are the villagers going to think it's funny that they're all hungry because some kid wanted to crack some jokes on a very important mission?"

Tito shrunk under Franklin's fierce gaze, trembling slightly from the intensity of the confrontation. He glanced at Jill, who stood observing the scene with her arms crossed, her demeanor cool and detached.

Then Tito's eyes shifted to Sumi, whose face was etched with guilt, her earlier amusement fading into a pained expression of regret. Despite his fear, Tito's resolve hardened; he wouldn't back down, especially not in front of Sumi.

"Yeah, I do think it's funny," Tito retorted, his voice a mix of defiance and nerves. "I think it's hilarious that Jill here trusted you to lead this hunt and all we've been doing is walking around for hours!"

The words hung in the air, bold and challenging, as Franklin absorbed the critique. The group fell into an uncomfortable silence, the forest around them suddenly seeming even more oppressive, the task at hand more daunting. Franklin's anger simmered as he weighed his response, the balance of leadership teetering in the face of youthful insubordination and the very real pressure of their mission's success.