Chapter Text
“Just a little bit more, kid.”
Rocket pouts as he dramatically drags his legs along the grass. “You said that five minutes ago!”
Zuka chuckles to himself. “Well, this will be the last time for sure.”
He groans. “Whatever, Mr. Zuka, this better be worth it.”
They continue to walk through the grass as their legs rub against the taller patches. Zuka had given his jacket for Rocket to wear, and as much as the wind blew, he kept his complaints to himself. He really hoped Darkheart hadn’t lied about the forecast.
The two of them soon reach the top of the hill. A tree sprouts from the top with its foliage littered across the ground. He estimates it’s on the younger side if his time with his old friends had taught him anything. Well, friend is a strong word, more like a strict lecturer who happened to have some knowledge in forestry from his gear. This one’s for you, he thinks as he pays his respects.
“We’re here, Rocket,” Zuka takes his hands off his eyes, “you can open your eyes.”
Rocket tears open his eyes and witnesses the inky expanse paint itself in front of them. Gentle bullets twinkle in the sky as the sounds of crickets serve as a soundtrack. A lightly-colored smudge shades their surroundings.
Zuka catches onto Rocket swallowing in air, out of breath from the sight.
“Where are we?” Rocket eventually asks.
He smiles. “The best place in all of the Inpherno.”
Rocket pauses, as if to process the sight. “What’s that in the sky?” He points towards one of the dots in the sky.
Zuka sighs, forgetting about the light pollution in Playground. “Those are stars, kid.”
“Why are there so many of them?”
“They’ve always been there,” Zuka says, “but you can only see them when you’re out here.”
Rocket murmurs something under his breath, only catching the tail end of ‘home’ and ‘see’. He turns away from the scenery as his expression drops, hand hovering across his prosthetics.
Right, probably don’t bring that up. He’s going to change the topic.
“Do you mind if I take a seat? This old man can’t keep standing forever.” Zuka tries to joke, lightly nudging Rocket’s arm.
Rocket half heartedly hums, at least acknowledging him, and Zuka goes to sit by the tree. Although deep in thought, Rocket follows suit, leaning against him for support.
“…Thanks dad.”
Zuka looks at him and he flusters, stumbling over his words. “I mean, er, Mr. Zuka, sorry, I don’t know what came over me—“
Zuka brings him in for a warm hug, and Rocket soon reciprocates.