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"Have a sip of this," they say, and his hand is wrapping around what feels like a glass. "It'll help with the coughing. Did you swallow a lot of water?"

Doing as told, he takes a moment to process the question and he nods. "A mouth—" He stops to clear his throat, which feels irritable. "A mouthful."

"Alright," he pauses. "I'm going to treat you, okay?"

"Okay," he murmurs. When he opens his eyes again, his once blurry vision starts to settle and he's able to make out everything around him. The room, or as he recalls the guy from before calling it, the medbay, is smaller than he imagined. There are only two beds; the one he's sitting on and another one on the other side of the room. Both are separated by an almost built in cabinet.

The person in front of him is draped in a similar attire that he could make out on the guy from before. A loose button up shirt with what looks like a scarf tied around his waist. He, however, doesn't have a large cap on like the guy from the high platform and he has this jet black hair that's slicked out of his face.

He joins his side as he rolls out an appropriate amount of white bandage material. "Hand please." He starts wrapping it around his wrist. "I'm Chan, by the way. Everyone calls me Dino, though."

"Dino?" he queries, finding the nickname a little odd, but more than anything else, he finds it interesting.

"Yeah," Chan replies sheepishly. His cheeks are flushed, though whether that's from the way the wind beat at them outside or that he's embarrassed, he's not sure. "I joined the crew when I was really young and they asked if I wanted a code name or if I'd go by my actual name." He's just talking, and he definitely appears as young as his voice gave way. His eyes constantly flicker between his face and the bandage as he wraps it. "I gave them that and now it's what I go by."

Tying the bandage, he stands up and his eyes scrutinize him. "I'll speak to Captain about getting you a change of clothing. Otherwise, do you have any other wounds? Are you hurt anywhere?"

With a shake of his head, he looks away. "I do not think so," he murmurs. "Though there is a pain across my shoulder," he admits and the thing is, he wasn't planning to. He wanted to ignore the pain and not use up much of Dino's time, but there was this soft, welcoming and open atmosphere that had him speaking without really thinking.

Worry creases Dino's forehead. "Turn around. Let me take a look."

Obediently, he does as told and a second later, there's a hiss. "What the hell happened?" Dino murmurs and he starts dabbing at the shoulder eliciting hisses on his part. Whatever it was, it burnt like hell. Horrible; absolutely terrible and he just wanted the pain to go away.

A moment later, something cold is placed against his shoulder and he can't help but feel relieved.

"Does that feel better?"

"Yeah," he murmurs. "Thank you."

"Do you really not remember how you got on the boat?" he queries, though despite this being Dino's question, there was a hint of another question in his tone. He couldn't decipher it.

"No. I cannot recall anything prior to when I woke there."

"Your shoulder was pretty banged up," Dino explains then, stepping into his line of sight and brows pulling together. "Curious whether you knew why. It looks as though you were injured, but with what or how it occurred, I can't say for sure." With that being said, he steps out, excusing himself in a faint murmur as the door closes behind him.

Assuming he's expected to wait, he takes a look around the room. It is smaller than he imagined. Just enough space to take two people standing. Four if two of those people were lying down on the beds. There's a little window above the cabinet between the beds with a faint few of the night sky. It's dark and he spots the moon, curved like a crescent. He's so immersed in the sight that when the door opens, he startles.

"Sorry," the guy says. It's the one who spoke to him first. He shuts the door and steps inside, expression set in a frown that doesn't seem to be wavering. It gives off a permanent impression. "I'm Minghao. The captain of this ship."

"It is nice to meet you," he says for lack of better words. He eyes him up and down and really, he can barely imagine the man in front of him to be a captain. He had an appearance that, by first look, one would guess he's a first mate or cabin boy and—yeah, he isn't sure how he knows those terms. Somehow, they popped into his mind, but as far as he was aware, he had never once interacted with pirates. Yet he sensed that was what they were.

"Do you have a name?"

"Most likely," he starts, averting his gaze when Minghao tries to meet his eyes. "Though I cannot recall it."

"Who are you?"

"I have already said, I do not know."

"So you don't remember your name?"

"I do not remember anything," he replies. Minghao's eyes light up briefly, a bemused look crossing his face that has him feeling a sudden wave of insecurity. Was what he said really that funny? Was it the way he looked?

"What?" he queries without thinking. "What are you thinking?"

"You speak so formally," Minghao explains. "You must be from a higher class or something," he notes. His tone is light, but the look in his eye at the mere mention of such a class holds so much resentment that he has to look away again. "So, I've discussed it with the crew and we've made a mutual decision."

"With regards to?"

"We'll take you in, just until we're able to figure out how to help you." He pauses, shifting his stance so that he's leaning against the cabinet. He fears it may break, just with how old the wood appeared; he genuinely did not believe it could hold against Minghao's weight. Yet, it seemed to, so he remained quiet, listening.

"We need a watchleader," Minghao says.

His face scrunches. The word was unfamiliar to his ears; he didn't recognise it and, when nothing popped into his head, he guessed he would not have known about it before either.

"A person at the top. Keep watch for us while we stay on deck or below."

"I thought somebody already did that."

"Ah." Minghao shakes his head. "He just checks now and again. So, since we need one and since we stumbled onto you, we figured you could do it."

Unsurely, he nods. Minghao's lips tug at the corners, but he still has that serious expression as he stands up and starts toward the door. Glancing back, he pushes the door open.

"So, come on then. Let's introduce you to the crew."

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