Work Text:
There was nothing Erik liked about Wakanda. Not the weather, not the food--
'Naja!'
--and definitely not his baby cousin. He was not hiding, he told himself strictly, he was just-- taking in the arts. You know. Taking in the culture... behind some drapes. Curtains? Whatever the heck these things were.
The culture smelled like bougie incense, he decided, stifling a sneeze in his fist.
Of course Shuri found him. 'Na-naja-jana-na!' he heard, coming closer and closer into the room. Dang it. She'd found him. He tensed up, waiting with a sunken heart. It wasn't like he liked yelling at little kids, he just needed to be left alone some days. And she kept sneaking up on him and following him around!
But of course no one understood his side of things. They just thought he didn't want to try, that he didn't know how to get along with others. But then they didn't even bother trying to see it from his perspective or getting along with him. Funny how they thought they were so much more open-minded than him, when really they just looked at him and saw whatever they liked.
Shuri was still standing in front of him. He could hear her fidgeting. She was fu--so freaking annoying.
He paused to take a breath - then, bracing himself, pushed the curtains to the side. Like everything else in this place, they were pretty hard to move.
Shuri was stood before him, looking down at the floor with a worried little face. His stomach dropped. Had something happened?
'Naja,' said Shuri quietly, pointing at his old sneakers, 'is sed day?'
Oh. Well. Huh. He came forward and bent down some, hands on his knees, till he and his cousin were at eye-level.
'Whatchu mean, sad day?' he asked. 'Do you mean "Saturday"?'
'Sed day shu,' explained Shuri, 'na-naja ncumo no shu.'
These were his sad day shoes, he translated, as he looked down over them; at the scuff marks; the dirt trapped between the ridges, from a place far away. The dirtiest things in this whole palace, probably. And Shuri thought when he didn't wear them... something about ncumo happened. Whatever that meant. Probably something not sad? Sometimes she made sense.
Never mind that Shuri was a little kid, at any given time she was babbling at him in a combination of about ten different languages. His translator pretty much always threw up question marks whenever she talked to him, so Erik usually just nodded until she started crying for whatever reason or left him alone. But this time he understood.
'Nah, I'm not sad,' he said, shrugging. 'Just miss my pops, you know.' By now she knew what 'pops' meant.
Shuri nodded firmly. 'Sed day so,' she decided. And she took his hand and pulled him back towards the curtain.
Erik didn't recognise the feeling that seized him in the chest until it rose up and became laughter. 'Man, what are you doing?' he said. The curtain was way too heavy for her to move, especially from all the way at the bottom.
'Na-naja sed-Shuri na-da ndawonye sa,' she said. She was really struggling with the curtain, trying to tug it over them both. 'An na-naja nah sed.'
'Hey,' he said. He pulled his hand out of hers. When she dropped the curtain and turned to look at him questioningly, he put his palm on her forehead. Ol' bighead.
She blinked up at his hand, then stared at him, confused; her lashes touched his hand.
'I'm good, ok?' he said. He cleared his throat, cus his voice was all rough, and patted her on the head.
Shuri tried to reach up and touch his hand but he pulled back fast. She tilted her head. 'Naja?' she asked quietly.
Erik tapped the top of her head and darted backwards, chuckling when she frowned and tried to grab him again.
'Ain no sad day here, Princess,' he said, jogging backwards after one more head-tap. Shuri was starting to get the hang of it, if the little goblin claws her hands were making were any indication. 'Ay, keep up!' he said.
And then he turned and ran for all he was worth. See if she could find him now.