Forty Years of This [Monster Hunter World]

Chapter 22

The Commander woke feeling like shit. It wasn't just that his throat was dry and his head pounded like a stake was being driven in just above his eyes, but he felt like he was about to vomit and that his body was made of lead. The gentle hang overs of his twenties, where he had a mild headache, slight nausea, and a great thirst, were long gone and replaced by an abomination so terrible he wondered if he'd been poisoned.

His journey from his bed to the toilet and out of his private quarters was a gruesome and harrowing one, and when he finally made it out into the common area of the suite he shared with his daughter, he found all the blinds were drawn. It was oddly dark.

He glanced around the room, but he was alone, and he had no idea what time it really was. On the table where he often ate breakfast with his daughter was a small paper packet, and when he pulled it apart, he found one of the herbal drugs hunters used to combat the various poisons the new world had to offer. He took it with enough water to drown a barroth.

It was well into the afternoon when he finally left his quarters. His head still throbbed, but he felt well enough to make an appearance and at least attempt his duties. It seemed that the rest of Astera was as slow and slogging as he was save for the younger hunters and the wiser of the commission who hadn't gotten sloshed the night before.

He found the Admiral in the canteen already eating the Commission out of house and home. The Commander's daughter sat nearby looking over her book in horror and how much food the man could put away.

"Morning, ██."

"It's late afternoon, Dad."

"I knew that."

He sat next to the Admiral, who grinned at him like the cat who'd gotten the cream. The thought of eating made the Commander's stomach churn, and the sight of the Admiral's half eaten feast made him feel ill.

"Sooo..." The Admiral drew the word out. "You and the Quartermaster, huh?"

"What are you, some gossiping old hen?"

"I called it. Years ago I called it." The Admiral fluffed up, proud of himself. "He's had it bad for you since day one, and now you're a thing. So." He leaned forward, close enough to kiss. "Why'd you go for him?"

"What? You knew he had it for me, and you didn't tell me? How did you know he was interested in me? That man's a stone wall."

"████, my old friend." The Admiral dropped a massive hand on the Commander's shoulder. "I thought you weren't interested. After that talk about the morality of taking a partner while in a command position but genuinely having no one in mind?" A shrug. "What good would it do to tell you one of your subordinates had a crush? It'd just monkey up your judgement."

"Yes, but how did you know?" The Commander pushed the Admiral's hand off of his shoulder. "I've known him for ten years now and been emotionally intimate with him for five of those years. I still can't read him."

The Admiral stopped to think. Despite his buffoonish appearance, he was an intelligent and deeply intuitive man, but it was hard for him to explain his intuition to others beyond dude, 'trust me.'

"He's not... He's not a stone wall. He's just not like you. You're like... how to put this. You speak one language. It's the only language you've ever known until your adulthood where suddenly there are a few people speaking entirely different languages. You can understand the accents and dialects of your own language, but these other people are incomprehensible."

"I've used this metaphor before." The Commander sighed. He expected this to go nowhere.

"Right, well consider me a linguist. Back at home, no two people spoke the same language. So I spent a lot of time picking up bits and pieces, so when I encounter a new language, I'm ready to learn it."

"Then why after five years am I still illiterate? And if you can read him so well, then tell me: was he upset last night?" The Commander felt torn between frustration and hopelessness. He couldn't interpret the man he loved, but his friend who hadn't been around for the last half a decade was practically bragging about how well he could.

"Uh..." The Admiral balked. "Why would he--"

"I need to talk to him... I made an off hand comment, and I think it was cruel." He stood up suddenly. His world wobbled for a moment with his hangover, but before the Admiral could say anything else, the Commander headed for the stockrooms.

"████████!" He called his name the moment he stepped into the cool, dark warehouse.

"In the back, Commander. With the canvases."

The Commander followed the Quartermaster's voice to the far back of the warehouse through rows of stacked crates and miscellaneous but well labeled supplies where he found the man writing labels and sticking them on the shelves of salvaged ship sails. It was quiet, save for the gentle scratch of pencil on paper and the Commander's footsteps.

"Is there a problem, Commander?" He seemed unperturbed, but if the Commander had been able to infer his thoughts then he wouldn't have been there to begin with.

"I said something yesterday."

"We all said many things. It is largely how we communicate."

The Commander relaxed at the joke. "Well, I said the Admiral was the best friend I ever had right in front of you."

"Ah." The Quartermaster glued a label to the shelf before turning to the Commander and sighing. "It stung. Yes."

"I'm sorry."

"You should be. It was thoughtless, but at the same time, it was thoughtless. I've had a full day to think on it. At the time, it hurt only really because ██ pointed it out. I wouldn't have noticed it otherwise. But here was a man you were considering the best of friends to you after he left for five years following a hunting accident that he was involved in that left you with serious injuries. Meanwhile you have several friends here who remained and helped see you through the recovery, and... of course... me. But tell me, did you actually consider any of that when you said he was the best friend you've ever had?"

"No." The Commander was caught between hanging his head and meeting the Quartermaster's piercing gaze.

"Of course not. It stung, but I recognize it for what it is: a superficial blanket statement used to describe the importance of a stranger to your wary family."

"What?"

"I cannot read you-- as you cannot read me, but I can go back and analyse our words and interactions. By breaking it down into the purpose it served, I can understand why you said that and what you meant by it. It was a declaration of love and devotion, yes, but more importantly it was performative to help your daughter warm up to the Admiral and his kin. The real question is: did it work?"

"I didn't understand a word you said." The Commander took a step towards the Quartermaster. "But I want you to know that I would be hard pressed to find a finer friend than you. I love you, and--"

The Quartermaster suddenly clasped his hand over the Commander's mouth. "The moment you start ranking your friendships and relationships is the moment you begin to alienate the ones you love." He slowly withdrew his hand, only for the Commander to laugh.

"And thank you for the hangover remedy you left behind."

"Of course. You're welcome."

At that, the Quartermaster smiled. He bent down slightly to press a light kiss to the Commander's forehead before turning back to his work only to steal a few more glances at his lover while the Commander lingered.