Work Text:
tattoos: "a type of body modification in which a design is created by introducing tattoo ink, dyes, and/or pigments into the dermis layer of the skin, either permanently or temporarily."
••• to express yourself •••
"What are you doing?"
All three heads of the metkayinas crouched around in a circle, turned to look at Neteyam.
It was close to eclipse. Usually, it was advisable that everyone was not to stray far from the village when it was getting dark. However, in Neteyam's case, the reason he was still wandering around was because he was told to grab some herbs and fruits that could be found further into the island by his mother. He was running an errand, and he was making his way back to his family's marui.
But then he spotted Aonung and his group of 'friends'.
Neteyam didn't like Aonung very much. Sure, initially, his interest had been piqued by the other boy. The first time Neteyam saw the metkayina, he thought the boy was… cute.
That thought didn't even last for more than a minute, because it was pretty clear to see that Aonung's attitude was 'difficult'.
Upon seeing Aonung and his friends, Neteyam thought he should just pretended to not have seen them. They were a troublesome bunch, and Neteyam was sure that getting entangled with them would cause difficulties for Neteyam in the near future.
If Neteyam got into trouble, then his father would be mad at him.
Not a risk worth taking.
But then Neteyam thought of how his father also told him that he should adjust and adapt, maybe make a friend or two since they didn't know how long they'd be staying here.
The thought put a pause in Neteyam's steps.
In his mind, he thought of how proud Jake would feel if he were able to somewhat befriend the oloeyktan's son. In fact, if Neteyam managed to get Aonung to be less of a trouble, he would definitely be recognised by his father and the oloeyktan.
Coming to Awa'atlu, truthfully, felt like a downgrade. Neteyam was at least acknowledged as a warrior by his clan, considering he had passed the Omatikaya iknimaya. Since he didn't go through the Metkayina iknimaya yet, he started back from the bottom.
Not a warrior.
He had to go back to doing errands for his parents and 'babysitting' his siblings most of the time, rather than patrolling with his ikran or hunting for food.
He felt that it was unfair, yes, but he sucked it up, because moving to Awa'atlu was the best decision his family could make to ensure the safety of their clan back in the forest.
He also sucked it up because he was the older brother and the oldest sibling, and he was supposed to be 'responsible' and 'reliable' all the time.
So, case in point; if he managed to 'turn Aonung good', he should at least be able to join on hunts with the Metkayina warriors and hunters, shouldn't he? Preferably after he managed to get the hang of riding an ilu and using a crossbow underwater.
With a goal in mind and a few steps to be taken, Neteyam decided that perhaps reminding Aonung and his group of friends that they needed to go back to the village would make the group feel a lot more 'open' to him.
It always worked, Neteyam thought. Whenever his siblings were being difficult, if he tried hard enough to show that he cared, they would open up and be more lenient to do whatever was asked of them.
Aonung was his age, sure, but it couldn't be that hard and different from winning his siblings' favour.
Koro, or at least that was the name Neteyam remembered the boy had been called as, was the first to respond verbally to Neteyam's question: with a smug and mocking crooked grin and a chirpy, "Hey, it's forest boy!"
Despite how it was supposed to be Neteyam being neutral, the omatikayan couldn't help but roll his eyes at Koro's tone.
Carrying the weaved basket filled with what his mother asked him to fetch with one arm, he rested his other hand on his hip, looking at the three crouched boys with a mildly scrutinising look. "You didn't answer my question."
"Why should we?" Nashvi, the other boy, retorted, breaking off into a fit of snickers with Koro childishly at his 'smart' retort.
Seeing that there was no getting through the two boys who had spoken up, considering they seemed to have never taken anything seriously, Neteyam turned his attention to Aonung.
Aonung who was already looking at him by the time Neteyam looked.
Despite the surprise and stutter in his heart, wondering how long the oloeyktan's son had been staring at him, Neteyam maintained his neutral and mildly disinterested look. "We're supposed to not linger outside of the village when dark is approaching," Neteyam reminded the other boy. "You of all people should know that, Aonung."
The two snickering boys quieted down.
Aonung tilted his head, stared at Neteyam for another quiet moment or two, before he stood up.
Their height difference, unfortunately, was something that Neteyam was 'mildly' 'threatened' by. (Metkayinas were all so tall. Neteyam couldn't help but be offended that he couldn't tower over people like Aonung.)
It took Neteyam by surprise when Aonung took it as far as to take another step closer so that they were toe-to-toe, but the omatikayan kept calm and remained looking unfazed.
The metkayina stared for another prolonged silence, before he reached out a hand and flicked one of Neteyam's braids, making the beads in them clink against each other before he finally opened his smugly smirking mouth:
"Why single me out, big brother?"
Neteyam scrunched his nose.
"Because you're the oloeyktan's-"
"Must be because you like me," Aonung annoyingly interjected, stepping away from Neteyam and smiling like he did something mind-blowing.
While Neteyam was disdained, both Nashvi and Koro broke into a fit of laughter at Aonung's 'joke'.
The omatikayan's boy's ears pinned to his head just as his tail flicked in annoyance.
All three of them clearly had a terrible sense of humour.
A hand under his chin and tilting his face had Neteyam re-focusing on the boy in front of him, but he decided he regretted it when he saw the arrogant look on Aonung's face.
"Why the long face? Shouldn't you be ecstatic that your crush noticed you?"
Maybe Neteyam was being too optimistic.
Aonung was clearly a lost cause. Not unless the boy suddenly woke up one day and swore to never act so irritatingly smug.
Neteyam swatted Aonung's hand away, adjusted the woven basket he was holding, and turned to leave. "I was just reminding you in case you've forgotten.
I see that I'm just 'ruining the show', so I'll take my leave."
He didn't even get to take another step when Aonung spoke up.
"Leaving so soon?
I thought you wanted to know what we were doing?"
The omatikayan boy turned to look at the three friends again.
It was actually getting late, and the three Metkayinas in front of him were probably up to no good anyway.
But then curiosity got the best of Neteyam, and he ended up trying to peek at the spot where the three of them were huddled around. "I mean… if you don't mind, I guess I am a little curio-"
"Close your eyes."
Neteyam pursed his lips and flicked his tail in irritation when he was cut off.
"Ex-?"
"Close your eyes, and you'll find out what we were doing."
Despite Neteyam's better judgment, he ended up closing his eyes anyway.
The first minute, he felt something wet being brushed along his arm, his back, and on his face. There was also some suppressed snickering, but Neteyam was curious, so he kept his mouth shut.
In the second minute, there was some rustling.
In the third minute, there was no sound or anything on his skin.
When he opened his eyes, he was alone.
The whole way to his family's marui, Neteyam grumbled under his breath about how he was an idiot for just standing there like, well, an idiot.
He walked past other Metkayinas to get to his marui, but, as busy as he was chastising himself and grumbling under his breath, he failed to notice the suppressed and amused snickers of those he passed by.
Only when Neteyam got to his family's marui, and only when everyone stopped in uncanny sync the moment they saw him, did Neteyam realise something was up.
His family crowded him before he could even finish saying 'what are you looking at?'.
So he was told of a few things.
One: his dad didn't tell him anything, but only ran a palm down his face, mumbled something about 'needing to talk to Tonowari', before leaving the marui without another word.
Two: his mother also didn't say anything, but she looked pretty fuming as she, too, followed her mate and left the marui.
Three: Tuk said Neteyam's arms were covered in stripes and random patterns horribly drawn on him.
Four: Kiri read out a couple of sentences on Neteyam's back. ("It's written here that 'we were just doing temporary tattoos on ourselves, nosy big brother'.
Oh and they drew a bunch of, well, I'm assuming they're… tattoo patterns? Some… angry and upset faces drawn here and there…
I genuinely can't make sense of most of their drawings, so it is in the best interest of the Metkayina clan to never let Aonung be the one to draw the tattoos. They're horrid.")
Five: Loak read aloud what's written on Neteyam's face:
"He fucking wrote his name on your forehead?? What the hell does that even mean?"
Kiri was already taking out extra fabrics to wipe away the - fortunately - temporary tattoos to help Neteyam wipe away his attempt at 'making friends'.
"I guess it was just to show that he was the 'artist'," she dreadfully mumbled, already starting to wipe the ink on Neteyam's arms.
While Neteyam agreed that Kiri's assumption may be true, he didn't hear any of them mentioning Koro's and Nashvi's names. He was pretty sure they played a hand in drawing on him, too.
It was odd, but Neteyam decided it wasn't too important to be pointed out to his siblings.
••• to help face your fears •••
The group of friends - yes, even Neteyam was surprised he would call them all friends after thinking his family would never be able to be accepted by a Metkayina, let alone three of them - were talking about Loak's encounter with Payakan when Loak admitted:
"It was insane, man. When that akula chased me all around. I thought I was going to actually die."
Neteyam subtly watched the way Tsireya's hand that was holding Loak's forearm gave it a comforting squeeze, and he found himself suppressing a teasing comment on the action for the sake of his little brother's 'pride'.
"I'm glad you didn't," Kiri teased, giggling when Loak scowled and grumbled at her words.
Rotxo had a small amused grin at seeing the exchange between the siblings, before he quipped, "We don't know why the outcast had gone rogue, but tulkuns have always been generally peaceful." The 13-year-old Metkayina boy properly addressed Loak when he continued, "He must have felt like you're not a threat, then."
Loak being Loak, furrowed his eyes in offense at the implication of his friend's words. "Do I not look threatening?" he questioned, offended for something that wasn't even supposed to be a thing.
Neteyam had found it funny, sure, but then Aonung snorted in amusement, and suddenly it wasn't so funny. (Contrary to popular belief, Neteyam can be pretty childish and petty. Plus, he could hold a grudge pretty well.)
At Aonung's sound of amusement, everyone - except for Neteyam - turned to look at the 15-year-old Metkayina boy. Neteyam settled with just looking at the other boy from the corners of his eyes, because, as mentioned prior, he's pretty good at holding a grudge. On top of embarrassing Neteyam by painting on him random words and pattern multiple times ever since the first time, the guy literally almost got Loak killed.
The 15-year-old omatikayan boy would say that his decision to merely 'hold a grudge' rather than throttle the other boy was a pretty tame and mature decision.
"You? Threatening?" Aonung scoffed, snickering when he briefly glanced at Neteyam before turning to Loak and pointing at Neteyam with his thumb, "I'm being generous when I'm saying this, but your brother looks ten times more threatening than you can ever be."
Both Neteyam and Loak furrowed their eyes at the boy.
"'Teyam? More threatening than me?" Loak scoffed in disbelief, scowling further. "He only ever looks more 'threatening' if he's angry," the boy added unnecessarily.
See, suddenly being offended by something so 'trivial' didn't matter to Neteyam.
Neteyam sat straighter, and barely glanced at Aonung, making short eye contact with the metkayina unintentionally, before looking at his little brother. "I can look threatening when I want to," Neteyam found himself saying, pursing his lips into a thin line before adding as an afterthought, "I look 'threatening' when I'm angry?"
He wasn't sure what to feel when all three of his younger siblings started exchanging glances with each other while looking both sheepish and somewhat nervous.
The almost-turned-awkward silence was broken by Aonung, who ended up giving an answer even though Neteyam didn't ask for his opinion.
There was a hand tucking a few of his braids behind his ear, and the action had been so surprisingly and uncharacteristically light and gentle from the metkayina, that Neteyam had to turn to look just to confirm that the person sitting beside him was Aonung.
"'Threatening' would be an exaggeration, big brother," Aonung snickered, his tone as mocking as usual. Although, admittedly, it was lacking its usual venom. In fact, it had been noticeable that the other boy was making an effort not to be 'mean' and too much of a 'skxawng' over the past months.
Still, it wasn't like he deserved praise for something that was supposed to be basic etiquette.
"What do I look like when I'm angry, then?" Neteyam retorted, scrunching his nose in mild disdain when Aonung tilted his head in that infuriating way he would do when he found something hilarious. Just because he was mildly annoyed, Neteyam added bitterly, "I guess you of all people would know, too; with how often you always managed to annoy me."
His words only made Aonung's amused and slightly lop-sided grin grow a tiny bit wider, and Neteyam somewhat regretted asking for the idiot's opinion.
"Of course, yeah, I know exactly what you look like," Aonung played along, eyes crinkling in their corners before he finally answered Neteyam's question all too chirpily, "You always look prettier angry."
Neteyam gave Aonung a deadpanned look. (He also pretended he didn't notice the way his heartbeat skipped.)
Before Neteyam could reply, however, Loak groaned loudly, muttering something that sounded a lot like 'please don't flirt with my brother right in front of my eyes', before abruptly leaving after claiming that looking threatening didn't matter, and that Payakan was just nice. He mumbled under his breath something about how 'no one takes me seriously', and then Tsireya was excusing herself and rushing to chase after the leaving boy.
Somehow, Kiri decided that it was Neteyam and Aonung's fault that Loak didn't feel heard, and then Neteyam watched as Kiri grabbed Tuk so the two of them could 'check on Loak', too. Rotxo, for some reason, looked between Kiri and Tuk and Aonung and Neteyam, before he weirdly grimaced and rushed to follow Kiri.
Finding the entire thing funny, for some reason, Aonung laughed, annoyingly loud, before he called out in the general direction where Loak was headed, "You sure you wanna leave? I have a tip on how to look more 'threatening'!".
Loak didn't even look back when he gave Aonung the middle finger.
With pretty much almost everyone leaving, Neteyam was left alone with Aonung.
The omatikayan boy didn't even hesitate to try to stand up.
But before he could even do that, Aonung grabbed him by the forearm. Neteyam didn't even bother to not sigh in annoyance at being interrupted.
"What?" the omatikayan asked, turning to look at his so-called friend only to feel a little bit more ticked when Aonung still had that smug look on his face.
"Don't you wanna know how to look more threatening?" the metkayina asked, clearly wanting Neteyam to say 'yes' or something of similar meaning.
Truthfully, Neteyam genuinely didn't care enough to want to know.
As if he had heard the omatikayan's inner thought, Aonung tried a different approach to get what he wanted, "You should be more curious about it. I mean, who knows? When Loak is feeling better, I might ask him if he wants to know, and then he'll join me, and then, well, who's to say I won't leave him in the middle of nowhere again?"
Neteyam didn't even get to hiss as Aonung had already raised his hands in surrender, looking far too relaxed for someone who was being glared at rather intensely. "Relax, 'Teyam. It was a hypothetical joke."
"That stunt you pulled as a joke could've killed my brother-"
"Yes, it could have," Aonung interjected, abruptly leaning closer and effectively shutting Neteyam up mid-sentence. "It could have, but Eywa kept him safe, and now he had made friends with a tulkun - even if the tulkun is an outcast."
Neteyam hated that Aonung was somewhat right. (Loak had been upbeat and more energetic ever since his first bump-in with Payakan. The younger omatikayan had been eager to share about his encounter with the group of friends, too.)
Having been lost in thought, Neteyam stumbled to start walking when Aonung abruptly tugged on his forearm. "Where are we going?" the question was spoken out before Neteyam could think of anything else to say, catching himself staring at the hand still holding onto his forearm before he looked at the back of the Metkayina's head. "If you're thinking about leaving me stranded so I can find my own tulkun, I'm going to have to decline-"
"I'll tell you how to look more 'threatening'," Aonung interrupted, glancing behind him at Neteyam briefly before looking forward again. "In fact, this tip of mine would even make you look cooler. So, you know.
Just be quiet and follow me, forest boy."
Against all odds, Neteyam found himself complying.
They walked further into the island, before Neteyam realised where he was being taken to.
It was only confirmed once Neteyam found himself standing at the same place where he caught Aonung and his two friends painting temporary tattoos on themselves. (Granted, he didn't actually see them with their tattoos at that time, but he was 'told' by the words drawn and painted on him that the three Metkayinas were just making temporary tattoos.)
Neteyam thought of the tattoos he had seen on the Metkayina, the tattoos of the oloeyktan, and admitted to himself that Aonung may actually be onto something.
"I guess tattoos do make someone look more… intimidating," Neteyam spoke his thoughts out loud, his forearm finally being let go of.
Aonung crouched beside a bush, and Neteyam watched as the Metkayina almost magically took out a couple of bottles from the said bush.
Against his better judgment, Neteyam went and crouched beside Aonung to have a better look at the bottles the Metkayina was taking out.
"And cool," Aonung added to Neteyam's words, carefully placing the bottles on the ground before turning to look at Neteyam. "Don't forget that."
It could have been just Neteyam's imagination, but there's something in Aonung's eyes that made him feel like he was being seen right through. Just from those oddly serious-looking eyes being on him, had Neteyam straightening his back and refraining from the urge to fiddle with his hands.
"Right. Sure," Neteyam stammered out, clearing his throat and pretending to be oh-so interested by the bottles Aonung had taken out in favour of pretending that the Metkayina didn't have an amused look on his face at the omatikayan's almost unnoticeable stammer.
"So what kind of tattoos should Loak have anyway?" the omatikayan asked, hoping to quickly dispel the odd tension that had enveloped the two of them.
Aonung opened a bottle as he answered without missing a beat: "An akula."
Neteyam pursed his lips, eyes furrowed as his ears pinned to his head just as his tail flicked in a mixture of curiosity and confusion. "But Loak just told us akulas freaked him out."
"Which is why an akula tattoo makes sense," Aonung said simply. Though he didn't wait for any prompting to elaborate on his thoughts. "Tattoos can also be a way to face one's fear.
In a way, it's like: if you see an akula trying to eat you every day, at some point, the sight won't scare you anymore, and you'll be able to get to that point where you're just unbothered by it."
The Metkayina's words bounced around in Neteyam's head.
Just when Neteyam wanted to ask other things about tattoos, like 'does the position of the tattoo matter?' or 'do bold strokes give a different meaning compared to soft strokes?', Aonung surprised him by asking:
"What are you afraid of?"
Neteyam paused.
His mind was both blank and thinking as he watched Aonung dip his fingers into the paint, the Metkayina using his other hand to gently tilt the omatikayan's chin so he could get a good look at Neteyam's face.
Aonung was looking at Neteyam expectantly for a solid minute before the omatikayan cleared his throat again to tell himself to focus.
Focus on what they were talking about. Not at the feel of Aonung's oddly gentle hands on him the entire day from a couple of brushes or holding initiated.
With how unexplainably nervous he was, it was no wonder that his answer was odd.
"Being forgotten," Neteyam blurted, realising it was a bit of an odd fear when he saw Aonung's genuinely surprised look. To compensate, the omatikayan ended up rambling his reasons in hopes that it would 'clarify'. "Just- we're all not really significant in the grand scheme of things, but my father is Toruk Makto himself, and he will be remembered even in the future.
I want to be a warrior as memorable as him. A memorable son. Brother. Just.
... Stuff like that, I guess."
A few moments of silence followed Neteyam's words, and the omatikayan was all too ready to be laughed at for having something so 'weird' as a fear.
But then Aonung's finger was on Neteyam's cheek, and the omatikayan held his breath as the Metkayina seemed to be writing something on the omatikayan's cheek.
Only when Aonung retreated, did Neteyam stop holding his breath.
The Metkayina extended a bottle in front of Neteyam, and when all the omatikayan did was stare at the bottle dumbly, Aonung enlightened with a mildly humored tone: "I'm asking you to paint something on me."
Neteyam stared.
"Me?"
"Yes, you."
Despite the mild confusion, eventually, Neteyam, once again, did as he was told and dipped his finger into the bottle.
Once that was done, he asked, "Now what?"
"Now write your name on my cheek as I did for you."
Neteyam paused.
"You wrote my name on my cheek?"
When Aonung chuckled, it sounded oddly charming, and Neteyam barely managed to stop himself from panickedly screeching once he caught himself thinking the thought.
"Something like that.
It's hard to forget you ever, if I have your name written on my cheek, isn't it?"
It took a while, but Neteyam eventually wrote his name on Aonung's cheek.
For some reason that he wished were unknown to him, his heart was racing the entire time he wrote his name on the Metkayina's cheek.
While waiting for the ink to dry, Aonung started talking about Metkayina tattoos. How the position of the tattoo does matter, and that the soft or bold strokes of the tattoo are the choice of the tattoo designer to fit the Metkayina.
Throughout their way back to the village, Neteyam couldn't help but keep on glancing at Aonung. Just to see if the Metkayina would wipe away the temporary tattoo on his cheek.
Aonung never did.
They walked through the village, heading for the Sullys' marui because he 'wanted to drop Neteyam off'.
He had thought that it was his imagination, but, apparently, the people the two of them passed by were staring at him.
The only reason he realised was because his mother had been there when Aonung dropped off.
"I didn't know you and the oloeyktan's son are so close," she commented, her gaze lingering on Neteyam's cheek.
That was how Neteyam found out that the name written on his cheek was not his name, and that it was Aonung's name.
That was how Neteyam found out that the two of them practically had matching tattoos, then.
It did not make Neteyam's heart race.
Huh.
(It's good to know that he wouldn't be forgotten.)
••• to always have a memory of the best moments of your life •••
Aonung, Neteyam found out, was really, really fun to hang out with.
When the boy was not busy causing trouble and maintaining his 'mean' persona.
It could be because Neteyam had never made a friend his age before. It could also be because he didn't have to 'watch himself' when he's around the other boy, as he was not required to 'be the older brother'. It may also be because he, may or may not, have his feelings for the other boy rekindled after constant exposure.
Look, Neteyam would say he was pretty easy to impress. If only because he was so used to handing out praises left and right for his siblings whenever they were able to do something correctly. He was taught that praise and compliments build character. Positive encouragement, or something like that.
He's used to giving Tuk a pat on the head just because she did the bare minimum of keeping her voice down at night when everyone else was asleep. He's used to giving Loak a supportive pat on the back when he managed to oblige their father's request, like 'stay put in their tent'. He's used to complimenting Kiri just because she didn't wander off to places where it would be hard to find her.
To put it more plainly: he was used to keeping his expectations for others 'low'. It's different for him, of course. He had to perform as much as he could. He's the 'older brother'. The firstborn of Toruk Makto. The respected and admirable Neytiri te Tskaha Mo'at'ite's first son.
Perhaps it was precisely because he's all that and because his expectations for others had always been somewhat low, that Aonung's sudden change of attitude, from frustratingly annoying to pleasant and nice, greatly impressed Neteyam.
Enough that Neteyam, unfortunately, couldn't say he was joking when he said his initial crush for the other boy had become an actual thing.
So lost in his thoughts of 'I can't believe I actually like the skxawng for real', Neteyam almost jumped a few feet into the air when Aonung's face was suddenly in front of his, unbearably close and frustratingly as handsome as Neteyam remembered.
"Babytail. You're getting lost in thoughts again," Aonung teased, grinning all amused while Neteyam was just trying his best not to lose it.
In an attempt to breathe and have some space to himself, Neteyam half-heartedly pushed away his friend, and pretended his heart wasn't wildly racing when the action merely caused the metkayina to be pressed to his side.
The two of them had just gotten out of the sea after chasing each other on their ilu, the joyous ambiance of having the tulkuns returned infecting the entire village. In the middle of swimming around on their ilus, Aonung had asked Neteyam to follow him because he wanted to show him something 'cool', and Neteyam, ever always the curious one, wordlessly followed.
They ended up on a really small island, and Aonung led him further into the island. It took Neteyam by surprise, but the metkayina started climbing up trees and such. He had thought the reef Na'vi hated climbing up trees and such, considering it was one of his first snide remarks to him and his siblings early on, so it caught him off guard that his friend deliberately asked him to climb and climb with him.
Neteyam remembered how much fun he had making fun of Aonung almost tripping multiple times. He couldn't remember the last time he made fun of someone so freely without caring for the consequences.
Even better, was when they finally got to the top, and Neteyam turned away from the struggling Aonung when he felt the heat of the sun on his back, before his breath was abruptly taken away from his lungs.
It was beautiful.
It's the kind of scenery that you could see only from above. The kind of scenery that you could only find by coincidence. The kind of scenery that his father would have brought his mother to on a date.
The last thought had taken him by so much surprise, Aonung had to be the one to grab his hand and tug him further closer to the cliff, proudly teasing about how he managed to make Neteyam go quiet with his 'discovery'.
The two of them went to sit on the cliff, legs dangling and arms pressed against each other, and Neteyam's heart raced as it had never before.
Neteyam drummed his fingers on the cliff, tingles all over his skin where they were in contact with Aonung's. He cleared his throat, and squinted his eyes at his knees in a way to calm his heart down, as he didn't want to focus on how even his thigh was pressed against the metkayina's.
"I don't get lost in thoughts that often," the omatikayan half-heartedly grumbled, could feel the way his tail flicked nervously behind him while his ears twitched. "Also, is it just me, or do you suddenly prefer the nickname 'babytail' over 'forest boy'?" he added. Just because it was definitely something he noticed recently, and that he could use it as something that he had been thinking about.
Busy thinking about stupid nicknames. Not thinking about his feelings for the other boy, no, absolutely not.
Aonung snorted, shaking his head from side to side lightly, according to the corners of Neteyam's vision. "Of course you would notice that," he said, as if it didn't need any other explanation.
"What does that even mean?" Neteyam retorted, forcing himself to look at his friend properly.
Aonung looked all too happy to be able to make eye contact with the omatikayan.
"Because only you will ever focus on something as trivial as that," Aonung quipped, lips forming a rather smug smirk before he added, "Plus, your reactions are always different for every nickname I've used. I could be wrong, but you don't seem to mind me calling you baby…"
The metkayina looked at him.
Really looked at him.
Neteyam hoped his face didn't give him away. (He was not turning purple. He was not turning purple.)
However, Aonung broke into a huge triumphant grin, and leaned against his hands on the ground as he slowly continued, "…tail.
You don't seem to mind me calling you 'babytail'."
Neteyam was going to strangle the other boy, one day.
Just because he could, Neteyam half-heartedly shoved the other boy on the shoulder, and his heart annoyingly skipped a beat when Aonung heartily laughed, and shamelessly scooted back to the omatikayan closer.
Eywa, give Neteyam strength.
"Because you don't say it with an attitude anymore," Neteyam reasoned, refraining from giving in to the need to either shove the other boy so hard that he wouldn't give his feelings away or lean closer to the contact and melt into it. "You used to say it as an insult, but now I know you well enough to know that you don't mean them as an insult."
"You know me well, huh?" Aonung commented, his tail slightly wagging from the corners of Neteyam's eyes. "I like that. I like that you can admit that.
Can't remember the last time someone could say with their whole chest that they know me."
Aonung's tone had taken such an odd, somewhat solemn turn, that it had Neteyam putting aside his feelings and inner turmoil to ask: "How about those friends of yours? Koro and Nashvi?"
The metkayina boy hummed, staring into the distance.
"They're great friends to hang out with when I want to be 'free'. Rotxo and Tsireya keep me 'grounded' in the way that they'd always remind me of what I'm 'meant for'. I guess…"
He turned to Neteyam, then, and the omatikayan gripped the cliff he's sitting on with so much strength, his knuckles turned white. (Aonung looked thankful.)
A thankful smile graced Aonung's lips, and Neteyam felt the way his breath caught in his throat.
"But I guess spending time with you is fun because I can have both of those things at the same time."
How heart-touching.
Maybe Neteyam would consider getting his heart checked before thanking it for all the things it had to go through ever since he had his epiphany. (read: genuine feelings for Aonung.)
Without thinking about it, Neteyam blurted out an admission, too. It wasn't like he had planned to ever say it out loud, but he had always been the kind of guy to return a sentiment - sometimes with more effort than those who 'initiated' the sentiment.
"I feel the same."
Because Aonung didn't point out his tail that was flicking around all too giddily, Neteyam reciprocated by pretending not to notice the way the metkayina's tail wagged, too.
The smile on Aonung's lips remained even when he reached into the pouch on his side. Even when he kept whatever he had taken out in a fist, before he turned to Neteyam and grinned schemingly. "Guess what I brought."
Neteyam tilted his head and squinted his eyes, but he couldn't really imagine what could fit in the other boy's fist.
After some more squinting and guessing in his head, Neteyam shrugged. "No idea."
Aonung scowled. Possibly because of the lack of effort.
So Neteyam sighed and randomly guessed, "A shell, maybe?"
The random guess, thankfully, sufficed.
"Not close at all," the metkayina snickered, opening his fist and revealing a very small bottle.
It must be ink.
But there's so little of it. What could they possibly tattoo with something so little?
As if the metkayina had read Neteyam's mind, he corrected: "Not ink for tattoos."
"What else could it be for, then?" the omatikayan asked, watching with interest when Aonung uncapped the bottle and dipped his finger into it.
Then, the metkayina slathered the black not-tattoo-ink onto his lips.
Neteyam stared, as if mesmerised.
Their eyes made eye contact once Aonung seemed to be satisfied with the coverage of the thing(?) on his lips, and the metkayina had a rather mischievous look on his face.
"It's not exactly ink for tattoos, but it could be used as such.
See, here's an example."
The omatikayan barely saw it coming when, without warning, Aonung leaned in and pressed his lips onto his cheek. Close to the corner of one of Neteyam's eyes, but a little below it.
When Aonung leaned away, the colour on his lips looked smudged, and he looked especially proud as he looked at Neteyam's surely-turning-purple face.
"That'll last for at least a day," the metkayina remarked, grinning and cheeky.
Neteyam wanted to die.
He wanted the time to stop for a moment just so he could panic over the past interaction peacefully. Preferably without Aonung as a witness to his meltdown over a silly kiss on the cheek.
The forest Na'vi only grew more embarrassed when Aonung stopped 'smiling sweetly' and started laughing heartily at whatever expression was on his friend's face. In the face of being laughed at, Neteyam managed to pluck some kind of burst of confidence out of nowhere, as he snatched the bottle Aonung had set aside and almost aggressively dipped his finger into it.
Copying what Aonung had done, Neteyam smeared the thing(?) on his lips, ignoring how Aonung was telling him that he was applying too much.
Without putting much thought into his next actions, Neteyam went for it.
He grabbed Aonung by his necklace, pulled the metkayina close, before pressing his lips right onto the other boy's.
He wasn't sure how long it lasted, but he would say it felt like an eternity had passed.
By the time they parted from just awkwardly pressing their lips against each other, Neteyam found that he had accidentally smeared some on the corner of Aonung's lips, and he, too, found himself staring.
Just as Aonung had been staring at him a few seconds ago.
Whether or not it was a curse or a blessing, they didn't get to talk about it, as they heard the sound of Awa'atlu's alarm, calling everyone to return.
Aonung was the first to snap out of whatever trance they were in. He stood up, and offered a hand for Neteyam to accept, the metkayina's face somewhat purple and endearing.
When Neteyam accepted the offered hand, he couldn't help but have his own heart skipping once he realised Aonung's hand was shaking a little. Like he couldn't believe what had just happened.
Despite being the one to have initiated the kiss, Neteyam couldn't help but wonder if that had actually happened, too.
Their descent was filled with less laughter compared to their ascent, but it was not uncomfortable.
It was awkward, in the way that things always would feel after kissing your friend out of nowhere. But Neteyam wouldn't say it was a bad kind of awkward.
Not with the way Aonung's hand always seemed to find his every time they had to let go of each other's hands to safely climb down.
Not with the way he had caught Aonung looking at him for a little too long far too many times over the short span of their climb downwards.
Not with the way, as they mounted their respective ilus, Neteyam caught Aonung having his fingers brushing his suppresses but smiling lips, the lightest shade of purple dusting the metkayina's cheeks.
Aonung looked the most endearing and softest, that way. A side of the metkayina that Neteyam rarely saw.
When they returned to Awa'atlu, their friends who saw them immediately fussed and asked why their lips had the same colour and why there was 'something' on Neteyam's cheek.
From the looks of it, Neteyam's siblings genuinely looked like they had no clue and couldn't put two and two together. Minus Kiri, maybe - judging from the way she had a muted and subtle questioning and surprised look in her eyes when Neteyam met her gaze.
Rotxo and Tsireya, on the other hand, were quite great at pretending to be confused, but from the way they kept on looking at Aonung, as if eager to know something specifically, Neteyam would say they had an inkling of what had happened.
Neteyam went home to his family's marui, feeling all too awed at the thought of Aonung talking about what had happened with Tsireya and Rotxo. Preferably while the 15-year-old Metkayina boy sounded excited. Hopefully.
Truthfully, even the word 'excited' felt like it couldn't properly grasp and describe the feelings that were felt by the omatikayan.
When his father saw him, Neteyam merely brushed it off when Jake pursed his lips and furrowed his eyes, wondering aloud:
"Huh. Is this that phase where teenagers start feeling a little… emo? Or was it goth…"
It must be a sky people thing, Neteyam guessed.
It was a shame that the not-tattoo would only last a day. It would've been nice to have it a little longer to remember such a nice day.
••• to tell a story and connect with someone •••
"Is there a story behind the tattoo you have on you?"
As always, when it came to Aonung, everything was always unplanned. Just like how the question Neteyam had asked aloud had escaped his lips before he could stop himself from saying it.
The two of them were collecting herbs, deeper into the island where greeneries resided. After Loak had bonded with Payakan, the oloeyktan had 'punished' them by making them do millenial task while they 'think about what they've done'. While Neteyam remembered the four of them being told to collect herbs, at the moment, only Aonung and he were collecting herbs.
Loak had run off somewhere in a grumble and about how he couldn't accept that they were all punished for something that they shouldn't be punished for. As always, ever since the Sullys landed at Awa'atlu, Tsireya, the official guide and pretty much Loak's best and 'something special' friend was quick to chase after him to check on the 14-year-old.
Neither Neteyam nor Aonung didn't bother to stop them. Mostly because they sort of understood where their respective younger siblings were coming from. Slightly because, maybe, they didn't mind being left alone together too much.
Throughout the entire day, ever since Neteyam and Loak met up with Aonung and Tsireya to 'do their punishment', the older omatikayan had noticed the patterns and swirls on Aonung's arms that reached to his chest. From the looks of it, the tattoos were made by an 'amateur', possibly Aonung himself or Koro and Nashvi, but there was something in those strokes that had Neteyam wanting to know the story behind those inks.
If there was a story in the first place.
Aonung paused in collecting herbs, looking at Neteyam in mild confusion for a moment or two before he realised what Neteyam was referring to.
The metkayina smiled once he realised, putting down the weaved basket he was holding for the herbs in favour of properly addressing Neteyam.
"Here. Come closer," the metkayina beckoned, casually taking a seat on the ground and patting the spot in front of him.
Neteyam but his own weaved basket aside to comply.
They sat in front of and facing each other, their knees pressing against each other as they sat with their legs crossed.
Neteyam patiently waited for Aonung to say something, but when all the metkayina did was stare at him with an awfully cute and cheeky grin, the omatikayan broke the silence first. "What now?"
"Now you tell me what you see," Aonung easily answered - as if he had expected the question.
"But I asked you to tell me the story first."
"And in return, I asked you what you see."
Aonung remained grinning when Neteyam scowled.
Eventually, the omatikayan gave in, and heeded his friend's request.
"…you look like a… warrior…?" Neteyam tried, at the same time tracing the strokes of black on his friend's arms. "A Metkayina warrior."
The boy in front of him nodded, as if indulging Neteyam, before his grin took on a more smug touch as he quipped, "You forgot to add a little something."
"? And that is…?"
"A handsome Metkayina warrior," the Metkayina boy shamelessly said, snickering when his words only managed to make Neteyam scowl and turn somewhat purple. (It's true; Aonung does look handsome. It was one of the reasons why Neteyam had been sneaking glances and staring in the first place.)
"What else do you see?" Aonung prompted, tilting his head and making Neteyam nervous with how intensely his friend was staring at him. "Come on. I know you can be more descriptive than that, baby…"
Neteyam decidedly pinched Aonung's thigh in embarrassment before the metkayina chuckled and continued his hanging sentence, "…tail."
"The strokes don't look as neat as they're supposed to be," Neteyam went and observed out loud, carefully eyeing Aonung's reaction and relieved when he found that the other boy wasn't offended. "They make you look good, but there's… something in those strokes that screams…" he tried to expand more, but struggled to find the word, no matter how much he stared.
It caught him off guard when Aonung managed to find the exact word the omatikayan was looking for.
"Hesitation," Aonung had supplied, the smile on his lips morphing into something that had Neteyam's lips pursing in mild curiosity and concern. "That's the word you're looking for."
"How do you know?"
"Because that was what I felt when I painted them on me," Aonung honestly admitted, his tone so sincere that it had Neteyam sitting straight to listen as attentively as he could.
"Why?" the question slipped itself from Neteyam's mouth. "Why go through with it if you're not sure about it?"
Momentarily, Aonung dropped his rather melancholic look in favour of grinning at Neteyam and drawling: "Because I know you'd like it."
Just for that smug and arrogant remark, Neteyam pinched the metkayina's thigh again.
The action caused Aonung to wince and snicker simultaneously, before his expression took on a more vulnerable touch as he finally took Neteyam's question seriously.
"Tsireya is appointed tsakarem even though she is younger than me," Aonung started to speak, eyes not meeting Neteyam's and preferring to stare at his own lap instead.
For that, Neteyam wordlessly reached out, and gathered Aonung's hands into his own.
Aonung gave Neteyam's hands an appreciative and thankful squeeze as a muted gratitude. (He stared at their intertwined hands instead of his lap, now.)
"I've always wondered why my father never trained me to be the next oloeyktan the way my mother trained my sister. I used to think about it so often, that Tsireya and I used to not get along because of it.
I thought I deserved to be acknowledged first before she was acknowledged. I felt inferior, I guess. In some way, even now, I still feel it once in a while."
Neteyam furrowed his eyes at his friend's deprecating words. He gave Aonung's hands what-he-hoped a consoling squeeze, and was about to open his mouth to give comforting words when Aonung continued talking.
"It doesn't matter that much, anymore.
I realised after a while that the reason that Tsireya was appointed as tsakarem so early on was simply because my mother thought she was ready for the responsibility.
For the past years, I thought… I thought it would take me a couple more years before I would even want to be forced into living like my sister. Needing to take all these extra lessons, having so much of her time used for her future and not being able to enjoy the now like all her other peers… but…
That feeling has changed, recently."
Neteyam had been so focused on listening to and processing his friend's words, that he was genuinely caught off guard when Aonung tugged on one of the omatikayan's hands, in favour of pressing it at the tattoo swirled on Aonung's chest.
The omatikayan could feel Aonung's racing heartbeat, like this.
"It changed, because I met someone really inspiring," Aonung picked up from where he had left off, his voice turning even quieter and softer.
Neteyam could feel the other boy's gaze trained on him, but all the omatikayan could focus on at the moment was the heartbeat under his hand, and the contrast of his dark blue skin against Aonung's teal one.
Aonung didn't seem to mind.
"The first time I saw him, I thought he would be 'high and mighty'. Arrogant, perhaps, since he came here wearing his cummerbund, something forest Na'vi warriors often wear, I found out later that night from my mother.
She had said it in a grumble, but I could still clearly hear how impressed she was. Being a warrior at merely 15. For a moment, I thought my mother was comparing me to the boy she had just met.
But she wasn't. I knew that deep down.
Still, the childish part of me couldn't 'let that slide', and I started to pay attention to the boy my mother was so 'impressed by'.
Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan."
Goosebumps were all over the mentioned omatikayan's skin, and he instantly noted to himself that it was definitely the first time his friend had ever used his full name.
The use of his full name caused Neteyam to finally look at his friend's face, and something like a sharp shock tingled all over him when their eyes met.
Aonung's eyes were full of warmth and fondness. Neteyam wondered if it was obvious in his eyes that he was overwhelmed at the face of such feelings blatantly written in his friend's eyes.
The metkayina stopped holding Neteyam's hands, and instead cupped the omatikayan's face with one of his hands. His other hand placed itself lightly on Neteyam's thigh while Neteyam's hand remained on the metkayina's chest, and the omatikayan tried not to 'burst at the seams' from all the feelings in his chest right then and there.
"He is not 'high and mighty'. Even though he has all the right to be.
He is kind and caring, to his family and, to an extent, the people around him. He is fierce when he is angry just as he is pretty. He never speaks of his feelings directly, but they are loud in his actions.
The quiet way he remains by his mother's side or offers to accompany her on a flight when his mother feels homesick. The sure way he offers to accompany his father on hunts, even though his offer is always rejected. The playful way he teases his siblings and gives them attention whenever his parents aren't able to do so.
He is 15, the same age as me, yet he is eager to serve everyone else but himself.
That is something alien to me. Someone who has always thought freedom is what I need.
But seeing him so eager to help, eager to be 'useful' and to 'make a change', I guess I can't help but be infected by something so admirable."
Aonung tucked a few of Neteyam's braids behind his ear using the hand cupping Neteyam's face, before the metkayina used that very same hand to place itself over Neteyam's own that was on his chest.
"I hesitated painting this tattoo on myself, because, out of all the stuff I've drawn on myself, this is the one thing that is most precious to me.
Painting this on myself is my way to say that 'I'm ready'. A way that I hope my father would see as me wanting to finally take what I'm meant to do.
I hesitated, but I thought of you.
I thought of how close we could be if I were able to understand at least a little more of all that you carry on your shoulders. I thought of returning to you after an exhausting day, before we could complain all night long and simply bask in each other's presence after having carried out our duties during the day.
I thought of a day when coming home to you, worthy of you in all possible ways, and I…"
Aonung trailed off, before he cleared his throat. (Neteyam was sure both of them had the same shade of purple as their skin, now.)
The metkayina squeezed the hand on his chest, before speaking up with sincerity that begged to be noticed, "I thought of how nice it would be to be the one closest and the one to be able to understand you most, and I went with it."
To say Neteyam was speechless was an understatement.
The next time Neteyam spoke, his voice sounded shaky even to his own ears, but he couldn't find it in him to be embarrassed over something so trivial when Aonung had laid out his heart almost brazenly, "That's all?"
Aonung's expression momentarily grew anxious, "That's-"
"I did it for you…?" Neteyam somewhat clarified, realising that he needed to say more than that for Aonung to understand what he actually meant. "I just… I didn't know I mean that much to you. It's… it's barely been a year since we met, and-"
"You make me want to be better, Neteyam," Aonung interjected, his posture back to being relaxed once he realised he 'wasn't in trouble'. "And, if I'm being honest, that's a pretty hard feat to achieve, since I'm pretty infamous for being a huge troublemaker," he added, grinning a little lop-sided when his words managed to pull a soft laugh from the omatikayan.
It was sweet. This was so uncharacteristically sweet of the two of them. Neteyam was torn between being embarrassed over how 'lovey dovey' they were for two people who were supposed to be 'just friends' or being in awe at being so disgustingly sweet on each other.
So, instead of choosing either of the two options, he used both of his hands to hold Aonung's hand before suggesting:
"Let's have matching tattoos."
Despite his surprise, Aonung had an indulging smile as he hummed, eyes still so full of warmth that was directed at the forest Na'vi he was with. "Sure."
Aonung was about to reach for the bottle he had started to carry with him, when Neteyam stopped him by grabbing his wrist.
"A permanent one," Neteyam rushed to clarify, batting his lashes in hopes of persuading his friend, who had sported a hesitant look the moment the omatikayan clarified.
The metkayina pursed his lips thoughtfully, seeming to be mulling it over before he shook his head from side to side. "'Teyam, I don't think that's a very good-"
"Please?" Neteyam interjected, looking meaningfully into Aonung's eyes while the metkayina's decision clearly wavered.
By the power of Neteyam's persuasive skills and his looks, he managed to convince Aonung to agree.
The two of them managed to get one of the Metkayinas that was often tasked to paint tattoos, and - somehow - managed to convince her not to tell anyone else. (All she needed to see and hear to be convinced was Aonung and Neteyam saying their reasons why they wanted to get matching tattoos.
Apparently, she was a really hopeless romantic.)
The two boys went to their respective maruis that night, the stinging on their inner wrists almost unbearable, if not for the feelings in their chest fluttering louder and asking for most of their attention.
The tattoo felt eternal. Something that'll last forever even after 'death'.
Neteyam thought of the promise etched onto his skin, and all he could do was let himself dream.
A future where both of them were respected figures, having found their place in the world.
A future where they got to go home to each other.
A future where it all went well.
••• to honour someone •••
Neteyam was 20 when he returned to Awa'atlu.
Five years ago, after Quaritch had found his family at the reef, his family decided to return to the forest, and to stop running away and face Quaritch head-on. To end the man once and for all, so that they no longer need to be on the run.
With that achieved just a few months ago, peace had once again returned.
It may be temporary, as it was there was no way for Pandora to stop the sky people from ever returning.
However, it was still peace.
It took a long time for Neteyam to come to a decision, but, eventually, he asked both Neytiri and Jake if he could visit Awa'atlu.
His father asked him why he suddenly wanted to visit the reef. He answered that he simply wanted to pass on the news of their victory, even if it wasn't necessary.
His mother did not ask such questions.
She simply glanced at Neteyam's inner wrist, gave him a gentle and soft kiss to his temple, and told him to be safe.
It was meant to be a journey by himself. It was meant to be something for himself. He was supposed to be by himself.
But Loak insisted on accompanying him, and Neteyam had always struggled to say 'no' to his little brother.
So the two left their forest, and returned to the reef they'd left five years ago.
Upon their arrival, they were greeted, as it had been expected. Some greeted them with warmth. Some greeted them with curiosity, having not been there when the omatikayans had sought uturu in the reef Na'vi clan.
Others couldn't bear to look at them.
Tonowari stepped forward with a warm smile, greeting the two grown warriors. There was a girl tightly clinging onto his leg, her eyes round as she looked up at both Neteyam and Loak like she had seen something that puzzled her.
She looked to be 5-years-old, and Loak made the connection at the same time Neteyam did.
Loak crouched down to be at the same level as the girl, the 19-year-old omatikayan beaming cheerfully at the girl as he signed the 'I see you' greeting to her.
The girl endearingly and clumsily returned the sign, before she spoke, her voice quiet, yet a certain determination in it that was so like the tsahik's, making her sound almost regal, "You look weird!"
While Tonowari cleared his throat in mild embarrassment and hastily murmured a quick apology for his daughter's words, both Loak and Neteyam laughed at her words. They have learnt not to take it to heart, considering a friend they used to know used to say the very same thing.
The very same friend who was no longer here.
The tattoo on Neteyam's inner wrist ached.
Loak's cheeky and friendly voice snapped Neteyam out of his thoughts before he could get lost in them. "Weird or not weird, I can promise you that we're fun to be around," the omatikayan had jokingly promised, chuckling when the girl's eyes sparkled at the word 'fun'.
Before another word could be exchanged, however, fastly approaching footsteps could be heard, and Loak was barely able to stand on his two feet when Tsireya came rushing to him, throwing herself into his arms while Loak laughed.
Both of them were happy at being reunited, and Neteyam forced himself to look away.
He did not want to wish anything bad on the two of them, just because he was beyond envious.
Having taken his eyes off his brother and the 18-year-old his brother still harboured feelings for, Neteyam found himself turning to look at the still unnamed girl with them.
The girl who was staring at Neteyam's inner wrist.
Suddenly feeling self-conscious, Neteyam tried to subtly hide his inner wrist - except he didn't get to, as the girl abruptly and enthusiastically grabbed his hand when she noticed him wanting to hide his wrist.
"Wait!" she exclaimed, her small hands holding onto Neteyam's fingers. "I think I know you!" she loudly proclaimed, surprising everyone including Neteyam with her enthusiasm.
Not wanting to 'make a scene', Neteyam crouched down in hopes that the girl would understand he didn't want her to be loud.
He exchanged a glance with Tonowari before the oloeyktan left his daughter to Neteyam's care.
"But I don't think we've met before, little one," Neteyam softly said, bordering on a whisper.
Thankfully, the girl matched his volume, going as far as to step closer and hold Neteyam's fingers tighter before she whispered almost conspirationally, "My name is Pril. I am the oloeyktan's daughter.
I also know that you must have been the forest boy that my brother liked so much!"
Neteyam tried to maintain his indulgent smile. (He tried not to think about how he could see his friend in the little girl in front of him.)
"Your brother?" Neteyam prompted, hoping the little girl would continue to talk at length while he tried to get a grip.
"Yes! My brother!" she excitedly nodded, pride and awe thick in her words and voice. "I never got to meet him, but my mother told me he was very brave!"
"Was he, now?" (Neteyam hoped it wasn't obvious that his voice was wavering.)
"Yes, he totally was!
My mom said he died when the sky people attacked! How he died a hero, saving the one he loved most - even though he had never told mother that he had fallen for someone.
My mother called him a 'fool' for thinking he could ever keep secrets from her.
She was also the one who told me that my brother fell for a forest Na'vi. One with a talon tattoo on their wrist.
You must be them!"
Neteyam was sure his hands were shaking. He wasn't sure whether Pril noticed it or not.
"Your mother is a very smart woman, Pril," was all Neteyam could say as a reply, his vision becoming blurry the more seconds passed by.
Pril endearingly pinched the back of Neteyam's palm, prattling on about how 'of course my mother is smart; she is tsahik!'. Neteyam had thought it was the perfect time to blink away the tears he could feel collecting in his eyes.
But then Pril abruptly stopped talking, and Neteyam was caught off guard by the sudden strong tug on his fingers.
"Pril-?" he choked out, but hastily cleared his throat once he realised how close to tears his voice sounded like before talking again, "Why are you-?"
"Mother is right," she suddenly remarked, tugging incessantly on Neteyam's fingers. "She had told me that our guest will cry if I brought up my brother, and that I should bring our guest to our marui if it comes down to it!"
Neteyam was, internally and quietly, mortified.
How tsahiks were always able to be so in tune with what's around them would never fail to amaze the omatikayan.
"Oh, Pril, but I'm sure she didn't mean that," Neteyam tried to say. "Your mother and I barely exchanged words all those years ago. I will only make things awkward if you were to-"
"Neteyam."
The omatikayan's entire body instantly grew rigid.
Swallowing an anxious lump down his throat, Neteyam took his eyes off Pril in order to look up.
In order to meet Ronal's eyes.
Her eyes were as calculating as he remembered. As if she could see right through him.
Perhaps she could.
"Come with me," she said simply, her tone clipped and leaving no room for argument as she walked ahead.
With everyone else including his own brother staring, Neteyam had no choice but to oblige.
Even though the mere thought of being alone with the tsahik terrified him.
Even though the guilt that he had been suppressing for the past five years was threatening to eat him alive at the mere sight of the tsahik.
Even though he wanted to be on his knees and begged for the tsahik's forgiveness.
The feel of his fingers being squeezed snapped Neteyam out of his spiralling thoughts, and he found himself a little stunned to find that Pril was still holding onto his fingers.
She led the way as the two of them walked, a determined furrow in her eyes as she seemed to be trying to walk as fast as she could, hoping it would make it easier for Neteyam to walk rather than the older man needing to match her pace.
When she noticed him looking, the girl gave him a reassuring and kind-hearted grin, and Neteyam's heart ached.
It reminded him too much of the boy he lost.
Eventually, the two of them came to a stop in front of an all too familiar marui, and, to Neteyam's horror, Pril let go of his hand.
It was clear that she, too, seemed to be reluctant to leave him, but she looked sure and unshaken when she spoke, "Mother said she wants to speak with you alone. So I'm going to have to leave…"
Despite the anxiousness that gnawed at his heart, Neteyam mustered his best reassuring look. "It's okay. I understand."
Just when he was about to enter the marui, he felt a gentle tug on his tail.
Neteyam turned to look at Pril, who softly spoke without needing any prompting.
"… she may have blamed you when it happened, but…
...but she regretted it. She talked about it often, in her own words that are almost strange and vague. But it eats her from the inside, too.
So don't be scared, big brother."
She left quickly enough not to see the shaken look in Neteyam's eyes. (Good.)
The first thing he noticed upon entering the marui was how nothing had changed.
It looked exactly the same as it had looked when the tsahik was trying to save her son's life.
"Sit."
Neteyam instantly stood straighter, before he processed the tsahik's words, and almost tripped over himself in his haste to do as he was told.
He sat across the tsahik, who seemed to be arranging something on her side.
Once she glanced up and took note that the omatikayan had properly seated, she offered a hand before asking, clipped and almost demanding. "Your hand."
Hesitantly, Neteyam raised his hand that didn't have the tattoo.
When that garnered him a sharp look, Neteyam nervously cleared his throat, and placed his wrist with the tattoo on the tsahik's wrist.
He noted the way his hands trembled.
"Do not be scared, child," she claimed, clear and steady.
Neteyam's voice was far from those two things when he replied. "I am not scared, tsahik." Then, after a beat, he added, "And I am no longer a child."
"You are neither," the tsahik easily affirmed, assessing the tattoo on Neteyam's wrist that was losing its colour before she got to work, presumably wanting to re-paint the tattoo. "And yet that is all I see in front of me, instead of the fearsome warrior you have grown to be."
"Tsahik, I-"
"I am not 'tsahik' to you," she interjected, her tone sharp enough to cut.
It shut Neteyam down in an instant.
Ronal worked in silence. She had always seemed to prefer silence over noise. Always meditating. Always looking far into the distance or into someone's eyes, as if she could see what is approaching from both the distance and future and as if she could see into someone's soul.
Neteyam barely winced at the pain the touch-up on his tattoo caused.
The tsahik wrapped his wrist with a bandage, her movements precise and evident of all the experiences her hands have mastered over the years, before she spoke almost inaudibly:
"I am 'sa'nok' to you."
Ronal kept on holding onto Neteyam's wrist.
"When I was told that my son was shot, the first thing I felt was not panic, let alone anger.
The first thing I felt, was hatred.
Hatred for how what I have seen was right. For how the feeling in my chest every time I saw my son the few days before it happened was right.
I am tsahik. I am able to understand the will of Eywa.
Yet, when I lost my son, no matter how I tried, I could not understand why she had taken him away from me."
Neteyam's tears threatened to spill.
The woman in front of him talked as if she were talking about the weather.
"Aonung was a nice boy.
He was good to his sister, most of the time. He was good to me, when he offered to help me do what must be done that I could not attend to. He was good to his sempul, when he tried his best to enjoy the freedom my husband had given him by not appointing him as the next oloeyktan so soon.
He lost sight of who he was, briefly, in his teenage years.
And then you came along."
Neteyam had always seen Ronal as someone who wasn't comfortable with physical contact with outsiders. With the way she presented herself, regal and poised, he thought she was not one to initiate physical contact when it was unnecessary.
Yet he found his hand being held by both of hers, and there was nothing in the world that could have stopped Neteyam's tears from falling, even if gravity would cease to exist.
"You came along, and like the waves returning to shore, he came home.
He found his way home through you.
You made him feel seen. You made him feel grounded. You motivated him to be better; something that I, as his mother, struggled to do, even if I am able to interpret the will of the Great Mother.
He found a piece of himself in you, and, even if it was short, I was able to see the future my son didn't get to live through."
Ronal squeezed Neteyam's hand with both of hers, and silent tears continued to stream down the omatikayan's cheeks.
"I see him older. I see him more confident. In himself, and in the people around him.
I see him lead the people. I see him be a just and dependable ruler like his father.
I see him tired and exhausted, returning home - to you.
I see the kind future he could have with you, and for that, you are my son.
Anyone who can make him so happy and fulfilled is a family of mine."
Neteyam's body shook.
There was the sound of someone trying his best to suppress their sobs.
Only when Ronal had breached the distance between them to pull him into an uncharacteristically gentle hug coming from the usually distant tsahik, did Neteyam realise it was he who was trying to contain his sobs.
The realisation only further made him cry harder, and, in response, Ronal wordlessly placed her hand on the back of Neteyam's head, before gently guiding his face so that he could cry into her shoulder.
"You are always welcome here, boy," she murmured, the comforting pats on Neteyam's back unceasing.
Gentle and kind - like a mother's hands would be, comforting their child and ensuring them that everything was going to be okay.
"Do not cry, ma itan.
My son will be upset with me if he knows I made someone so dear to his heart cry."
At her words, Neteyam only grew to cry harder.
His arms wrapped themselves around the tsahik, and he found himself muttering rapid apologies in between broken sobs.
The tsahik reassured her that it was all in the past, and that it was the will of Eywa.
If it really was the will of Eywa…
... Then was it also the will of Eywa to have Neteyam live the rest of his life with his other half not in his arms?
He did not ask such a question aloud.
He let himself be comforted.
He let himself be pushed and pulled by the current.
He lived.
He lived by the will of Eywa.
(Yet he wasn't alive.
Not ever since the future he dreamt of was laid to rest with a bullet in his chest.)