A Night of Drinking, Part One.

Once we were the only two in the tent, Furuya returned to his seat with a weary groan. Then, he flashed me a grin and gestured to the chair in front of his desk.

"Please, I insist," he said. Though he was asking, I could tell it wasn't a request. Instead, it was a nicely-toned order. It was also one I wouldn't refuse. 

Especially after the stunt I pulled with Mizuno, I needed to build a foundation of trust with these people to protect my place here.

Plus, this was clearly a militant camp, and this man was at the peak of the hierarchy. If there was anything a soldier knew to respect, it was the chain of command.

"Understood," I responded flatly, pulled out the chair, and took my seat.

Furuya inhaled a light breath and stretched his fingers. Each pop within every joint was emphasized within the silence of the tent.