"What's happening!"
Cracking noise interrupted his speech. But it's too late.
"Sorry, sir. I screw it up...I think I'm not good sailor, right? Will I be fired?"
"What are you talking about! Are you OK? Did you got hurt?"
"I'm OK. Thank you sir. It's all my fault, I...I have to blamed for this..." I'm a little surprised he's comforting me. I don't want to make him worry. But a weird feeling just came to my mind...after my shirt is all wet.
"Let's clear it together and I will report to superior with you. Just don't blame yourself. Okay?"
"...No! Thank you sir! But don't worry about me. I can do it myself. Where's cleaning tools, sir?" This feeling goes stronger. Something is just...growing.
"Uh...okay, just go to..."

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Why so such as dangerous poison just put in simple wooden box...? lol
write a logical story is so difficult...