Heart of Demise.

It goes like first grade.

Especially since it was brought in by a convict.

"...Hey, Rivver."

I turned my body; facing her.

"I thought you said you would sleep."

"Uh, I did. It sadly didn't work out, though."

She put the paper down on the table beside her, and looked at me with her head rested on her hand.

"What do you want this time?"

"...A conversation? I don't know, just, something to pass the time, I guess."

"I don't have anything to say to you."

"..."

I had this idea that somehow she would magically start being friendly with me once I decided to be nice to her. In hindsight, that was really stupid, wasn't it?

I was on such a good streak, but her response irked me enough to be a little rude.

"That's harsh. You do know you're talking to your tutor here, right? I could just stop teaching you if you keep that nasty attitude."

"..."

I looked at her with a satisfied grin, but immediately withdrew it once I realized what I just said. 

I couldn't see her face, but the silence told me that what little respect she had for me dropped drastically. I was already bracing myself for a metaphorical eviction notice, but all I got was a strained sigh and a dead stare.

"Mmm, fine. What do you want to talk about?"

"...H-Huh?"

I stopped blocking my face with my arms, awkwardly returned them under my sheets, then thought about how I would approach this.

"Uhhh... the gun."

I slowly raised my body, sitting in an upright position, and turned my head to face the likewise sitting Rivver.

"The rifle? What do you want to know about it?"

"W-Well, nothing about the gun itself, really, but the person who gave it to you. I just want to know-- where did you meet him, and why did he give it to you, and all that."

"..."

She adjusted her chair to face me. I could tell that, whatever she was going to tell me, it was gonna take a while. So I strapped in for a wild ride.

"I'll start with the first question. I, along with the rest of my family, found the human fighting off a horde of Twillstock. He had a satchel with him, along with the rifle itself."

"Where did you live with your parents?"

She looked away.

"We lived in a village. Long gone now, lost to the negligence of the Ancients. The same with my family."

"O-Oh... I'm... I'm sorry to hear that."

"Don't be. I don't need your pity."

"...Am I not allowed to empathize? Whatever, continue."

She leaned into her chair.

"We took him in after the rescue. He stayed at one of our houses, and that's where he lived for the remainder of his life. He never told us his name. He barely interacted with us, only for trading or gifts. He was welcomed in our village, and garnered a reputation of being the silent yet reliable type. Hardly like you."

"...You're telling me a story, not trying to make me feel bad."

She smiled a bit.

"I was young during the years he was alive. I only saw him five times, and each time was shorter than the rest, except for the last one."

A sudden sinking feeling enveloped my gut. I could already tell where this was going.