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Snufkin couldn't say how long he'd been invisible.
Well, parts of him at least.
He'd been all the way invisible once, for quite awhile, and it had been helpful at the time. It had gotten him out, had kept people from noticing him as he got his first supplies while he was still fresh and new and afraid.
It kept him hidden while he ran into the trees, away from civilization. Away from people who either ignored him or wanted to force him into some mold, to be something he wasn't. From people who wanted to shove him into orphanages or into homes with people who would teach him to be 'respectable'.
Who know what mumriks were like and were determined to prove they could raise this child into being something other than what he was, and keep him on display as their project when he needed to be alone, to be unseen.
It kept him safe while he traveled, with only the birdsong for company, until he was soothed enough to start to reappear. Until he began to learn for himself who 'Snufkin' was.
Until he found people who knew what mumriks were like and understood, who were willing to help a small one until he was ready to move on. Who were kind.
Not that he was ready to stay. No matter how kind people seemed.
During his travels, Snufkin heard about other people like him. Who had, for one reason or another, gone invisible.
There were as many ways to go invisible as there were to recover, it seemed. And bit by bit, he reappeared.
But, try as he might, no matter how much time passed, Snufkin's tail and his paws didn't return.
He found himself gloves, and covered his invisible paws with them, only taking them off when he was sure he was alone. It was easier than dealing with the stares, with the people determined to 'help', if he just...kept them covered when he might be seen.
After a time, one time of being surprised and having people realize he was missing his paws too many, he kept them on all the time. He grew used to it soon enough.
The tail there was little he could do about, but it was much harder to tell he was missing that than the paws. The paws caused comment when people saw the lack of them, the tail didn't.
Well, the paws were a bit more obvious, so it shouldn't have been a surprise.
Sometimes Snufkin didn't think he'd ever get either back.
Sometimes, he wasn't sure if he cared if he did or not.
---XXX---
Then there was a comet, and Moomin, and Snorkmaiden. Little My and Sniff and the Moominparents.
A lot of people had tried to befriend Snufkin through the years. Many of them had wanted something of him, or had some idea in their mind of who he was and made everything awkward when he didn't fit that image, driving him away faster (and sometimes making the invisibility creep back up his arms until he could get away from their expectations and center himself again).
He'd expected the same out of Moomin, Sniff, Snork, Snorkmaiden and Little My, really. He'd been the happy-go-lucky vagabond for them, kept it up through the adventure to keep everyone moving and their spirits up.
Until they hit the dried up ocean and it all came crumbling down.
Snufkin couldn't remember the last time he'd cried like that. Everything built up inside, the stress and worry and constant interaction coiling inside until he couldn't take it anymore, until there was just one more thing he couldn't take. And to see the ocean, the embodiment of everything he aspired to be, simply gone...Snufkin counted on only two things to remain the same, and they were the stars and the ocean. For it to be dried up, gone...it was more than he could bear.
Yet...they hadn't looked at him differently after he'd broken down. Been surprised, yes. But then had sympathized with him, comforted him, and helped him gather the pieces back together until he could think again.
That was when he began to realize just how special they were.
---XXX---
Snufkin hadn't really intended to return to Moomin Valley.
He didn't return to places. He couldn't keep straight just who thought what of him and what they'd expect. Better to keep moving. He wanted to see it all, couldn't do that if he let himself get tied down.
And yet...Moomin had been so very sad when he left, Snufkin had found himself promising to return in the spring. He never promised anything to people – he refused to break a promise, and you couldn't break one you never made.
And yet.
Snufkin lost his arms up to the elbow that winter, worrying and fretting over going back. About having to put on a show.
He liked being quiet, had already realized that, since he didn't speak as often as others, people thought he was being profound when he did speak.
Snufkin wasn't sure if he could bear the weight of having people – of having someone like Moomin – look up to him that way.
---XXX---
It took the summer, of being close to each other nearly every day, for Moomin to lose the last of the hero worship. It was replaced with a different admiration, but one based on the Snufkin he grew to know, not the one he'd built up in his head.
The hero worship faded day by day, as they grew to know each other outside of the emergency that had thrown them all together, and Snufkin's arms faded back into view as it faded away.
Still, he was glad he had the habit of covering himself from neck to toe. Explaining something like this to people like the Moomins...well, they'd try to help, and they'd mean well, but Snufkin wasn't sure they could help him.
He was pretty sure he was meant to go the rest of his life with invisible paws and a tail, paws and a tail he couldn't remember the look of.
And the more time that passed, the more hurt Moomin would be that Snufkin had kept this from him. That Snufkin had felt ashamed of it and that he couldn't tell anyone.
Snufkin didn't want any of them looking on him with pity. And that was what happened far too often when people found out that parts of him were invisible, had been invisible for so long he'd forgotten what they looked like – that look of pity, that instant categorizing of him as some sort of victim.
He wasn't a victim and he didn't want pity. And he didn't want to upset Moomin.
Snufkin couldn't explain properly to himself what had caused him to go invisible, how was he supposed to explain it to someone like Moomin?
---XXX---
Snufkin was off for a couple of days when Ninny came, and he avoided Moomin House at first when he heard about her.
He wasn't sure he could help, and a small, mean part of him worried that seeing Ninny being fussed over when he'd had to bring himself back would hurt.
But when he found her shaking under the bridge, in the middle of a panic attack...well, what could he do but play for her, wait until she was calm before helping her back to Moomin House?
And when he found out what Stinky had done, to try and get Ninny to go all the way invisible again...well, he didn't tell Moomin, but that one hit far too close to home, sent echoes of memories he tried to let slip away reverberating through him, and he felt no guilt over leaving Stinky to stew in his little cave overnight.
---XXX---
Ninny was watching him.
Snufkin could feel it, though she was still at least partially invisible. Her head was missing, even though everything else had come back, which Snufkin felt was much worse than his situation. He could at least hide what he was missing.
Her voice was back, and Little My was teaching her how to use it. Ninny still wasn't speaking up much, but these things took time.
Right now, Ninny was peeking at him from behind the tree, and Snufkin guessed she was trying to decide if she should approach or not. If it would be rude or upset him.
Her aunt had really done a number on her.
“You may as well come over and sit down,” Snufkin said. “I don't really like being watched, but I wouldn't say no to company right now.”
Ninny squeaked but hurried over to sit on the bank next to Snufkin.
Snufkin kept his eyes on what he was doing as Ninny got herself settled.
They sat in silence for awhile, and Snufkin felt Ninny relaxing next to him. It had taken awhile for some of the people around to understand how it felt to simply sit quietly with another person and show affection that way, Snufkin's preferred way, of showing you liked them by choosing to be nearby without needing to fill the silence with meaningless chatter.
Eventually, Ninny spoke. “Thank you,” she said, in her still small voice. “For helping when I panicked. And with Stinky.”
“Stinky's more bark than bite,” Snufkin said offhand. “He's just looking for trouble.”
They were quiet again, and Ninny slowly curled up, her legs against her chest.
Snufkin glanced over at her. “Thoughts?”
“...I hate this. I hate that I can't get my face back. I've tried and tried but I can't.” Ninny sniffed, rubbing at her face almost angrily. “Everyone is so nice, but they just don't understand. I don't think they can. I just needed away for a bit, but I didn't want to be alone.”
Snufkin debated for a moment before propping up his fishing rod. Ninny watched, still sniffing, as he did, sitting back down beside her.
“This is a secret,” Snufkin said softly. “So don't tell anyone what I'm about to show you, all right?”
Ninny hesitated before slowly nodding, and Snufkin smiled gently. “It's not like that. It's this.”
And he pulled off a glove.
Ninny gasped softly at the sight of the empty space where his paw should have been.
Snufkin looked down at it himself, holding it out to Ninny. “I've a tail, as well,” he said as she slowly took his paw. “I haven't seen them in...in years. I've forgotten what they look like. I had to bring myself back, and I haven't managed those yet. So yes, there is someone here who understands.”
Ninny's paw tightened on his, and Snufkin opened his arms after a moment.
Ninny wrapped her arms around him, clutching tight as he stroked her unseen hair.
After her brief bout of weeping had passed, Ninny kept hold of Snufkin's smock. “Why don't you tell?” she asked quietly.
“Outside Moomin Valley, people get upset when they see that you don't have paws,” Snufkin answered. “Or they try too hard to help you and make things worse. And I don't want pity. Moomin and the others would try to help, but knowing would upset them.”
“...there's no shame in asking for help,” Ninny said, muffled by Snufkin's smock.
“There isn't, but there hadn't been any until now, and I haven't been ready,” Snufkin answered. “No amount of help will work until then.”
Ninny sat up reluctantly, wiping at her eyes. Snufkin dug into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, handing it over. Ninny scrubbed at her face briefly and handed it back.
“You...really want me to keep it secret?” she asked uncertainly. “I mean, if Moomin finds out...”
Snufkin shrugged uncomfortably. “It's never been the right time,” he said. “I didn't want to try to explain. But I wanted you to know you're not alone. There's as many reasons for people to go invisible as there are ways to bring them back.”
The conversation died off then, as Ninny didn't yet feel comfortable enough to argue, and they sat in comfortable silence until Ninny had to go in for dinner.
---XXX---
Snufkin felt something odd about his paws that evening, and took off his gloves again – the second time in one day, a record.
There was a misty outline of paws, faint but undeniable even in the lamplight, and Snufkin stared at them in silent disbelief.
---XXX---
Ninny regained her face, and Snufkin outright laughed as she and Moomin, Little My and Snorkmaiden recounted what had happened to him.
His tail was thrashing about in happiness as well, and he was almost glad they couldn't see it. Since he'd had his talk with Ninny, he'd been more aware of it than he'd been in years, and had started realizing all the ways it gave him away – or would, if anyone could see it.
He didn't notice Little My watching the grass sway where his tail disturbed it with sharp, considering eyes.
---XXX---
The others had gone back to the house and Snufkin was just sitting back from lighting his campfire when there was a sharp pain in his tail.
He yelped, jumping up and away, and something pulled on his tail as he spun to see what had hurt him.
And found himself facing Little My.
She crossed her arms, staring up at him. “So, I was right,” she said. “What's going on? Was that a tail?”
“Did you...bite it?” Snufkin asked in disbelief.
Little My grinned back at him. “So it was a tail. Why can't I see it? Why haven't you told anyone you have a tail?”
“...because it's invisible,” Snufkin said, as if that should be obvious.
“And?” Little My said, tapping her foot. She hopped over the log Snufkin had been using as a seat and poked at him when he didn't say more. “Talk to me.”
Snufkin huffed softly and dropped back onto the log. “What's there to talk about?”
Little My glared – an expression more intense because it was concentrated on such a small face. “How long? Any other parts invisible? Why haven't you told anyone?”
Snufkin sighed and listed off, “Long as I can remember, my paws, because I'm taking care of it myself.”
“It can't be working that well if they're still invisible,” Little My said, hopping up to sit next to Snufkin.
She huffed when Snufkin didn't say anything. “Look, I care, okay?” she said, offended that she had to spell it out. “And if you're invisible, you're hurting.”
She sighed when Snufkin still didn't speak, staring into his fire, and leaned against his side.
“...I told Ninny,” he finally said. “She needed to know someone understood. And I made her promise not to tell, so don't get upset with her.”
Little My had begun to puff up in indignation that Ninny had been told but not her, only to deflate at his reason.
She waited him out, knowing that while Snufkin could usually go for hours without saying anything, waiting like this could sometimes make him speak better than annoying him would.
“...it'll hurt Moomin and Snorkmaiden and the others to know I never told.”
“Never really was a good time, was there?” Little My said, kicking at the log idly. “...Make you a deal. You see if they come back over the winter, and if they don't, then you tell.”
Snufkin shot her an amused look. “They've been gone for years, and you think a single winter will fix them?”
“I needed to sound reasonable, not be reasonable,” she retorted.
Snufkin chuckled softly at that, and the two went back to staring into the fire.
“...I'll think about it.”
---XXX---
“...you're sure about that?” Snufkin asked, staring up at Moominpappa.
He nodded firmly. “I didn't want to bring it up unless I was sure, but I thought you might know and just hadn't brought it up,” he said.
Snufkin shook his head. “I...they said I was found in a basket,” he said, looking out over Moomin Valley. “I wasn't sure if I believed the people who told me that. They lied about a lot of things, so why not that too?”
“Ah. Well,” Moominpappa said uneasily. “Well, I don't know what happened to separate all of you. It was just...your father showed up at Mymblemamma's, and she got answers about how you were separated, and you match everything, down to being almost exactly like their missing child, but if you don't want to meet them...”
“I do, I just...I'll be back later,” Snufkin said, standing and walking quickly away from Moomin House.
---XXX---
Little My sought him out in the woods, where he was staring into the stream blankly.
“Is being my little brother that awful?” she asked, a thread of hurt under the words.
Snufkin started, looking back over his shoulder as she marched down to sit next to him. “It's not that. I think I might like having a sister,” he said slowly. “It's just...the whole idea. I don't think often about what might have happened, but...”
“Mother's pretty forgetful, but not usually about her kids,” Little My said, looking up at Snufkin sideways.
“I already didn't want to tell anyone about this,” Snufkin said, waving a paw, “But they have to remember I had a tail. And if I don't tell them...there's worse reasons than being invisible for it to be gone.”
Little My winced. “Oh, that.”
They were quiet for a moment, before Little My sniffled. To Snufkin's surprise, she crawled up into his lap and wrapped her arms around him. “My little brother,” she said, possessively.
After a moment, he returned the hug, with a laugh that surprised them both. “I have a big sister,” he said softly, awestruck. “Oh ocean, I have about a hundred siblings.”
Little My snorted. “Don't worry about them,” she said, still hidden in Snufkin's smock. “Worry about me and Mymble. We're the ones who're going to be around all the time.”
Snufkin squeezed her tighter. “I'm glad it's you,” he said quietly. “At least I'm already friends with my big sister.”
“Mm. Same.”
---XXX---
Snufkin clung to his father's smock, unwilling to let go just yet. His father smelt of the outdoors, of smoke, and his arms were so warm.
Joxter had already apologized for their separation about five times in the ten minutes they'd known each other, and the story was emerging in bits and pieces.
How he'd hidden Snufkin while he was being chased by a band of hunters, only to come back and find Snufkin missing. How he'd searched but couldn't find him. How he'd gone to find Mymblemamma for her help only to find her and her brood missing as well.
Snufkin had thought it had been rough at times, but he didn't want to imagine the pain it had put his father through.
At least he was better off than Sniff. Lost during a spring cleaning – at least he'd been found early on by the Moomins. Maybe it was a little unkind, but Snufkin wasn't sure Sniff would have made it on his own.
And then came the question Snufkin was dreading.
“...what happened to your tail, little wildling?” Joxter asked, his own swinging around to gently brush against Snufkin.
Snufkin felt warm inside each time Joxter used one of his nicknames for him, and told him as soon as he had stopped himself from using one to please keep using them.
“I...” Snufkin looked at Joxter's tail, wondering if his looked anything like that. It looked as though it was thick and soft and fluffy.
He hesitated long enough for Joxter to gently tilt his face up. “You don't have to tell us if it's that painful,” he said softly. “It's enough to have found you again and to be given a second chance.”
“I just...” Snufkin sighed, looking away. “I haven't told anyone about it, and now it's awkward and it's going to upset people that I didn't tell them.”
The conversation was drawing attention, to Snufkin's dismay.
Moomin stepped closer, Snorkmaiden at this side. “Snufkin?” he asked hesitantly.
Snufkin buried his face in his father's chest for a moment before leaning back and speaking. “I went invisible. It...I would rather have stayed invisible than stay with them for one more day. It got me out. I recovered, but...my tail never came back. And...” he hesitated before slowly drawing off a glove, trying to ignore the soft gasps from around the room. “Neither did my paws.”
His father took the invisible paw in his as Snufkin spoke. “I didn't want to worry anyone. I've gotten used to it. Every time someone saw, they'd get upset, and the few times someone tried to help, I ended up losing parts of my arms until I could have time for myself again. That hasn't happened since I started coming back to Moomin Valley, at least.”
Moominmamma stepped closer, slowly reaching out to Snufkin as Little My watched from above, perched on the stair railing.
“I'm not hurt, but worried. You must still be hurting somehow if they're still gone.”
Snufkin shrugged uncomfortably. “I didn't want worry or pity.”
“Listening is what helps,” Moominmamma said. “Not worry or pity. At least you don't need to hide anymore. You don't ever have to hide from us.”
“Take your time,” Joxter assured him, still holding Snufkin's paw gently as Snufkin looked up at him. “We're all here for you now.”
---XXX---
The misty outlines of paws began to fill in over the next few days.
It was odd – Ninny had come back all at once, in bits and pieces yes but it had been her feet fading into view, her arms, not an outline that slowly filled in.
Well, then again, as Snufkin had said, there were as many ways to go invisible as there were to come back.
He kept tugging off the gloves to stare at his paws, turning them over and over in the privacy of his tent, trying to see more of them.
Moomin and Moominmamma thought he might want to simply leave them off for good now, but Snufkin wasn't ready for that yet. It was enough that his family knew about his paws and tail, he didn't want to advertise them around the valley by going without.
Once they were back, then he'd start going without. It felt so strange still to take the gloves off at all, to let anyone see him without...it was going to take time.
It was still hard to talk about what had happened. His father, Moominmamma, Moominpappa, Snorkmaiden and Moomin and Little My...they were all there, and willing to listen, but it was still hard to say. To admit to feeling so small, so scared, so helpless.
Those people never should have been allowed around children. If Snufkin's nature hadn't already had him disliking locked spaces, people telling him what to do, telling him he couldn't leave, denying him choices...
Snufkin gave himself a shake. He was nearly an adult, and no one could force him to do anything anymore.
He had people around who loved him and would fight to keep him safe, just as he would for them.
That was what was important to remember, and not something that happened so long ago.
---XXX---
Snufkin, Ninny, and Moominmamma were gathering apples.
He had intended on doing it with Moomin and Snorkmaiden, but these apples were intended for pie, and Snorkmaiden was attempting to teach Moomin how to make it.
Snufkin had a feeling it was some sort of courting thing, a sort of 'teach Moomin to cook and be self sufficient' gift, and that they were hoping he'd accept it as a gift from them both.
And he would rather not see how they got there. He'd been around for the disasters of the kitchen before. Better to let them get it all out and the kitchen cleaned up so he could more easily be amazed at what they'd done.
He didn't mind. Moominmamma's company was soothing, and he enjoyed the time spent with her. And Ninny was turning into a delight (and, if they were both being honest, acting like a little sister) as she discovered herself.
Snufkin was feeling out a small song – something happy and contented, bubbling inside of him – when Ninny gasped.
He dropped the apples he was holding, jumping as she grasped his paws.
“Paw pads!” she squealed.
Moominmamma came in a rush, and all three stared at Snufkin's suddenly, finally, fully visible paws.
Snufkin stared at them, hardly able to believe what he was seeing.
There was a pad in the center of his palm, and beans on the fingers, and they were covered in fur the same color as his hair, the same fur he'd seen on his arms. It was different to know that they felt as though they were covered in fur and another to see it.
Ninny pressed gently on a bean, squealing in quiet delight as a claw emerged.
Moominmamma placed a gentle paw on Snufkin's shoulder. “It's good to see more of you, dear,” she said softly. “We'll need to make extra pie to celebrate.”
---XXX---
Somehow, knowing he had claws made Snufkin catch himself with them more often – that, and the fact that he was more regularly going without the gloves, which had blunted his claws.
On the other hand, watching Stinky go tearing across the fields, yelping about Snufkin having claws, made he and Little My and Ninny laugh maniacally each time they remembered it, so there were definite perks.
Moomin and Snorkmaiden were fascinated by his claws and the paw pads, holding his paws each chance they got and playing idly with his fingers.
Snufkin found he very much didn't mind.
---XXX---
They were all out on the veranda as the sun went down, shadows lengthening into evening. Snufkin and his father were sitting side by side on the railing, tails hanging down and twined together in mumrik affection – the fact that Snufkin's was still invisible wasn't stopping Joxter from doing it. One loop together, for familial love, and it felt like being hugged with less pressure, less overwhelming yet just as loving.
Snufkin was playing his harmonica and his father the guitar, finding a new song together, while the others listened, knitting or playing cards or simply sitting quietly to listen.
Too-Ticky and Mymble and the Inspector sat nearby, under a tree, softly talking and laughing together, while Ninny and Little My played at cat's cradle by Snufkin and Joxter, as much part of the family now as Snufkin knew he was in his heart.
It was one of the soft, gentle evenings Snufkin had learned to cherish. Affection laid over the veranda like a soft, thick quilt, with all of them equally wrapped in its embrace.
Unseen behind Snufkin, his tail faded into existence, its lighter fur tangled with his father's darker tail, fur as soft and thick as his father's tail, the two swaying in the breeze as the last hurt drifted away with the notes of their softly joyful song.