Kiorif's fatigue crawled over him, despite the sky keeping its healthy blue and Rookie poured her words over Tomobi, who had to sponge as many as he could.

“What time is it here?”

“It was around 6 o'clock when I left to escort you, Miss. So I believe that it should be 15 past 6,”

“How many days till it’s night?”

“In another day,”

“So the whole 60-hour thing is true?”

“Not truly miss. What happens is a cycle a normal day, then a day where there is no sunlight or only sunlight. After which the sun begins to rise in the latter half of the day. Then the cycle repeats,”

“How are we meant to sleep while the sun is out,”

“We tend to keep things shaded to block out the sun. I hear for earth people that sleep masks can be used to block out the sun if they still feel uncomfortable,”

"What about during the 24 hour night?"

"We still act like it is a normal day, time is still the same. It is just without sunlight,"

“What do you do?”

“I serve Master Apollo’s household,”

“Do you get paid?”

“I provide free service for accommodation. Master Apollo provides me a room within his estate,”

“Oh okay,” Rookie’s questions jabbed Kiorif who wanted to seal her lips, but her next question sparked an interest.

“How many gifts can you use at once?”

“Two Miss. On my head and torso”

“Now have you ever used a gift?” her question paused Tomobi momentarily but continued his walk as if he remained at his pace.

“No Miss Rookie I have not used a gift before,”

“Not even once?”

“No Miss was not given a chance,” Rookie noticed a quiver syncing into Tomobi’s walk and weakened her lips.

“Hey, Tomobi are you okay? If the whole gift thing upset you,” His head turned to her and a smile was painted on his face.

“Of course not Miss, do not worry,"

"But-"

"We are here now,” Rookie's comment was cut off as her and Kiorif’s eyes went to see a house of a much older age. One similar to those of the 20th century, with a porch resting under a second story. It stood alone from the modern houses with a moat of green, with a stilled and calmed garden instead of a barricade of grey fences.

“Nice place,” Rookie said as she noticed a warm light beckoning from the second floor, moving past the previous conversation. Led by Tomobi when they reached the door. When his knock was not responded to he turned to one of his pockets to a collection of keys. And ignoring the faint squeal from Rookie as he stretched his arms for the lock, opened the house to them.

“Now Master Apollo is busy with a long-distance call, so I will be leading you to your accommodation for the time being. Your bags please,” Kiorif scoffed as he dumped his bag in front of Tomobi.

“Now you want to pick up our stuff? Let’s see then,”

“Kiorif," Rookie shot through her teeth.

"Be nice,” Rookie gently passed her bag to Tomobi.

“But do be careful they are heavy,” But to their surprise he lifted both bags with relative ease, leaving Rookie bugged eye while Kiorif an eyebrow raised.

“If you follow me,” He showed them upstairs to a spacious room, barren except for two welcoming beds.

“Unfortunately master Apollo could not provide a more suitable room for you on such short notice,” Tomobi placed their bags on their respective bed's feet.

“If you need anything just ask me and I will be able to provide,”

“Tomobi,” Rookie began to remove some of her armor to let air seep towards her.

“Yes, Miss?”

“The first thing I would like is for you to only call me Rookie. I like the classy feel but I don’t need it,”

“Very well. Mast-”

“Don’t call me master,” Kiorif demanded, not even looking towards Tomobi.

“As you wish,” Tomobi closed the door to leave them alone.

“Kiorif do you have to be mean to him,”

“He will be fine. He’s a VitaNav, not a child,”

“Yeah he is. Plus Tomobi has been very nice. At least acknowledge him,”

“There will be no point, besides I think he would prefer my silence to your babbling,”

“I didn’t know gifts were personal to him. At least I think they are personal” Rookie babbled after removing her armored husk she threw herself onto her bed.

“This is nice,” Kiorif however opened into his bag and pulled out clothing of more comfort.

“You enjoy your sweat. I’ll find the shower,” Rookie paused for a moment before taking a faint whiff of her body, and repelled herself afterward.

“Blurgh. Hey Kiorif can I get the first shower,” Kiorif closed the door as she finished her request.

“Asshole,” She murmured to herself as she got her own clothing.

Kiorif viewed down his hallway of options. The first door opened showed a room that seemed to have been Tomobi’s, quaint and simple. Although his ocean of books differed from his calm nature. Kiorif still closed the door and tried the next room, locked, and with a faint wisp of chatter. His stench overruling his curiosity he tried the next door.

Finally, the shower he wanted. After figuring out how the shower worked, his moment inside was quick and he left out to see Rookie waiting.

“You change in the shower?”

“I don’t think our guests would want to see soldiers only wrapped in towels,” Rookie stood for a moment, then making a quick dash towards their room came out with a pile of clothes wrapped in her arms.

“Hey Kiorif, how do you work the shower?”

“Just turn the nozzles,”

“Thanks,” Rookie went into the shower and looked at what she had to do.

"Okay do I turn them left or right?" Although given simple instructions the shower was still a challenge.

Kiorif walked back down to the bottom floor to further explore the house. Generally more open and empty rooms, and with no locks could explain their lack of Apollo.

But the kitchen was filled. An alluring smell of food taunted Kiorif’s nose, who let himself be hooked by the smell. Going deeper in he saw a window open to let the smell further net out, welcoming in more of the unnaturally extended day. Pots boiled and bubbled their foods while ingredients laid themselves out, and all of this surrounded Tomobi. He fluidly moved around the kitchen to ensure the food was as fluid and unified as himself.

When letting the heats of the pots die he noticed Kiorif’s watchful eyes and began to freeze his movements.

“Ma-Kiorif, how can I help you?”

“Finish making the food,” Kiorif walked through the kitchen and headed out the shielded backyard, fencing that prevented eyes from peering at him. Matching the front a garden of calm plants grew, showing themselves as fuel to the smells of the kitchen.

The sun still held strong, but Kiorif welcomed the warmth that seemed into the verandah as he rested onto the wooled seat.