Chapter Text
‘Come on. Come on. Please be there. Please. He has to be there.’
That and a dozen different thoughts were racing through Nai'o's head as he raced down cobblestone paths that slowly gave way to more and more soft soil and wild roots the further he got away from the village.
The dirt roads twisting through Kilima Valley stretched out endlessly ahead, every curve, every crossroad lit with fading lanterns and an occasional sign to mark the way, but he couldn’t stop. Not now. Not tonight.
Because the only thing he could even hear right now was his heartbeat slamming against his ribs as his boots hammered the ground. Damp wheat brushed his legs. Far to his left, the broken silhouettes of ancient ruins jutted against the sky, shadows pooling in the archways and crumbling pillars. The old windmills stood just beyond them, dark and unmoving; the old wooden arms creaked softly each time a breeze nudged them, and rarely moved at all this late at night, unless it was one of the more windy seasons.
And there was still no sign of his little brother.
‘Darnit, Auni, where are you, you little trouble maker?’
Nai’o kept searching along the dirt road as he ran, but he couldn’t spot even the slightest sign indicating Auni had come this way, and the earlier bit of rain hadn’t helped matters at all.
Because he’d been searching for almost four hours now.
Four hours too long. Way too long.
And unlike all the other times, every foolish, dramatic, predictable little runaway attempt Auni pulled in this past this time was different.
This time, Nai’o didn’t know where his little brother was.
This time, the usual spots were empty. The treehouse behind the barn? Untouched, the rope ladder was still neatly rolled up, the loose wooden steps were still in the same place, showing they hadn’t been touched that night, and the hatch was secured. The firepit at his favorite abandoned campsite in Bahari Bay? Still cold. The hollow near the entrance leading towards the Elderwood? Nothing. Even the ridiculous hiding place behind the old hay bales in the shed was empty.
Nai’o had checked every spot so often he’d lost track of time.
Their parents were frantic. Delaila had combed the ranch calling Auni’s name until her voice cracked. Badruu had grabbed a lantern and headed into the village. Nai’o had even begged Hassian’s help since Auni had wormed his way into the stoic Majiri’s orbit every chance he had, and the hunter had quickly grabbed his gear and headed west towards the rivers with Tau bounding ahead already hunting for a scent.
Nothing.
Nothing.
And even more nothing.
Nai’o had been ready to pace a hole in the floor, worrying right alongside his parents, when a single thought, one fragile thread, had sprouted in his mind.
‘Mikhail.' His human. His perfectly huggable Misha who rarely used his full name.
Auni adored the little human. Looked up to him with the kind of fierce devotion only a younger sibling with way too much free time on his hands could ever manage, ever since the day Jina and Hekla helped him find his way towards the village. They’d been fast friends since day one, with Misha always taking the time to humor a lot of his little brother’s antics, and it had only gotten worse when their mom agreed to become his Shepp and bind his little human to the Daiya family.
That was the day they started calling him by his nickname. Auni had always had a little trouble pronouncing Mikhail but Misha came so much easier to him and a part Nai'o secretly enjoyed being able to whisper that name. Auni on the other hand latched onto Misha since it was easier.
And once Auni noticed Nai’o was… well… when his little brother finally figured out why he started locking the bedroom door in the afternoons. Well, Misha quickly became something like a human shaped sibling to his little brother, more than even Kenyatta had been.
It had honestly been a little mortifying to hear Auni gasp when he thought he’d connected those dots, but thankful his little brother hadn’t figured out everything. Nai'o honestly prayed it stayed that way for a long, long time.
That’s why he was hoping Auni was at Misha's place. ‘Please, stars. Let him be at Misha’s. Please let him be there so I can drag him home by the scruff of his shirt for worrying everyone like this.’
Nai’o pushed himself harder and harder the longer he ran. His every breath came in sharp, cold pulls. The valley’s lanterns flickered out behind him, replaced by a faint glow in the distance. Misha’s home, the Harvest Homestead.
Lanterns glowed on the front porch. Warm. Welcoming. Alive in a way that meant Misha was still home.
Nai’o’s relief nearly tripped him, but he kept going.
He vaulted the low stone wall bordering the property, tore across the yard, and shoved the door open straight into Misha.
“Agh! Nai’o?!” Misha squeaked at his sudden appearance, nearly stumbling back a step as Nai’o froze halfway through the entryway, trying to catch his breath, trying to grab Misha so he could explain. And Misha stared wide-eyed up at him, half in his coat, half out of it, messy, dirty blonde and black hair sticking up in soft tufts as if he’d been running his hands through it.
He wore a loose shirt, far too thin, and sweatpants that brushed the tops of his bare feet. Those pink-quartz-colored eyes of his blinked up rapidly at him, still a little scared from his earlier entrance.
And Nai’o might have fallen for his favorite human a little more because the first thing out of his mouth was, “Nai’o? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“Auni’s missing,” Nai’o finally breathed out, the words tumbling over each other. “Please tell me he’s here.”
“Oh!” Misha’s face lit up with sudden understanding. “Wait, yes, he’s here. He’s okay!”
Nai’o sagged a little at hearing that, his hand catching against the doorframe before his legs simply gave out on him while Misha launched into a flurry of words, panicked and apologetic all at once.
“He showed up a little while ago. He was really upset, something about the dishes?” Misha rubbed at his neck, cheeks pink. “He, um, kind of barged in, ranting about how unfair his life is and how nobody lets him do anything, and I didn’t know what else to do, so I just fed him. I had some leftover fish stew from dinner, so I gave him a bowl, and he just kind of collapsed onto the couch upstairs, still grumbling about everything. He kust kinda conked out on me a little while later after I got a warm meal in him.”
Nai’o just stared at him listening to Misha ramble.
“Dishes,” he repeated the word flatly. “He ran away because of the dishes.”
Misha winced. “That’s… what it sounded like.”
Nai’o scrubbed a palm over his face. “We were arguing because it was his turn to do the dishes.”
“Oh. Oh stars.” Misha muttered, still a little flustered, but now he was simply biting his lip to keep from chuckling. “I thought it was something catastrophic. He threw a lot of dramatic words around and was waving his spoon at me every other bite.”
“That’s...” Nai’o exhaled a little as he grumbled. “I’m going to kill him for worrying everyone like this.”
“I don’t think you’ll get the chance if Delaila gets to him first,” Misha murmured, a little sheepish, but mostly relieved and a little guilty too. “I didn’t know he’d actually run away. He's just always here and I didn't hear anything from anyone else in the valley and I'm sorry. I should have pressed him a little more when he refused to talk about it and by the time I tried he was already falling asleep and it felt wrong to wake him up once he got comfortable. I mean he looked so tired, so I figured, well, I’d just let him sleep, and slip out quietly and the you came charging in through my front door... And, well, here we are... Tada...”
His sleep schedule wasn’t exactly something to be proud about, so he hadn’t really pieced together what Auni being here so late meant. He should have. He really should have, but he hadn’t and now there was a mess of people out looking for the little troublemaker.
He was going to have to do something nice for Delaila and Badruu. Maybe drop off an apology pie or help around their ranch a little. Something to say sorry.
“You did exactly what you should’ve done,” Nai’o said quietly. “Truly.”
Misha swallowed, visibly relieved but still flustered. “He’s upstairs. I can show you if you want to see him.”
They ascended the wooden stairs, footsteps soft on the warm-toned planks. The house smelled faintly of plants, fruits and vegetables and leftover stew, and the gentle crackle of the low-burning fireplace drifted up from the first floor.
Misha paused by the threshold of the loft.
“He’s in there,” he whispered. “He… rebuilt my couch.”
Nai’o raised a brow, and Misha’s blush turned a little redder in response as he looked away.
“You’ll see.”
Inside, lanternlight flickered softly across the room. And in the corner was his headache of a little brother.
Auni was curled up inside a masterpiece of blankets, pillows, cushions, and a quilt draped like a tent roof over the back of the couch. It was a pillow fort. A well-constructed one, actually. Complete with one of those tiny blue lanterns Misha liked to decorate his garden with glowing inside like it was some enchanted hideaway.
His little brother’s face was half-buried in a pillow, cheeks squished, hair mussed, arms wrapped around a lantern bug plush like it was some grand treasure. He mumbled something unintelligible and kicked once at a blanket.
And Nai’o felt his entire chest loosen.
Misha lingered by the doorway, voice soft. “I didn’t have the heart to dismantle it.”
“He would have just built an even bigger one if he woke up and saw it gone,” Nai’o murmured in response.
Misha shifted closer, rubbing at his sleeve. “He ate two bowls. Did he eat dinner at home?”
“He claimed he wasn’t hungry.” Nai’o exhaled sharply through his nose. “Should’ve known that meant trouble.”
Misha offered a small smile. “Well. He’s definitely full now.”
They shared a quiet moment, watching Auni breathe peacefully or as peacefully as Auni ever slept.
Nai’o finally turned toward Misha. “Thank you. For taking him in. For feeding him. For… being you, I suppose.”
Misha blinked. His cheeks colored again, this time a soft, warm pink. “It’s nothing. He’s welcome here. Always.” The ‘just like you are’ went unsaid as Nai’o stepped closer, wrapping his arms around his human's waist drawing him in close.
“You say that now,” Nai’o murmured with a teasing edge to his voice as he leaned down closer, to press their foreheads together, “but he’ll just take it as an open invitation to move in the next time he's angry with me.”
Misha laughed a little under his breath, the two of them trying their best to stay quiet. “Honestly? I expected him to try long before now.”
And Nai’o grinned a little as he leaned down to capture his lips in a quick kiss.
Misha quickly pushed him away, completely crimson now as he glanced away, clearing his throat. “Um, you... I can go into the valley and let your parents know you found him and... And... If you want, you could stay the night. If you don’t want to wake him. I have, uh.” Misha was avoiding his gaze since, asleep or not, Auni was still in the room. “I have some extra blankets. And tea. If you want. Or food. Or-”
“Misha,” Nai’o cut in gently. “I’d like that.”
Misha blinked fast. “O-okay. Good. Um. Yes. Great. I’ll be right back then.”
"I'll be waiting." Nai’o smiled as he watched his human nearly trip over himself trying to hurry out the door. Misha always turned the prettiest shade of red whenever he was flustered.
Maybe... No... But... His little human deserved a little reward for taking care of Auni all night.
Nai'o huffed, a little grin like smile tugging at his lips at the thought that crossed his mind. He was still smiling as he headed towards the door, still half listening to his little brother as he rolled over onto his side, still grumbling about chores even in his sleep.