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Wemmbu wasn't sure where he was.
After being chased out by a bunch of idiot bandits from Parrot's Kingdom, he'd run as far as his legs could carry him. Ever since he nuked the capital, everyone hated him.
Fair enough, honestly.
He hadn't even bothered fighting back. Not that he could—he'd already run out of nukes on hand. So he'd fled into the woods instead, weaving through trees until he finally lost their trail.
Now he was exhausted.
He missed Eggchan.
With a tired sigh, Wemmbu slid down against the trunk of a tree, clutching his bleeding arm. One of the bandits had managed to nick him with a blade earlier.
Fantastic.
He was so, so tired.
Wemmbu yawned and let his eyes drift shut.
He wasn't going to sleep. Promise.
He just wanted to rest them for a second...
________
Manepear never expected to see Wemmbu again.
He'd been wandering back toward his base after relieving some poor, unsuspecting player of their loot when a flash of purple caught his eye.
Curiosity got the better of him.
So he followed it.
Only to find—
Wemmbu.
Wemmbu.
His former student.
His former mentee.
For a moment, Manepear considered turning around and leaving immediately.
Then Wemmbu's eyes fluttered open.
They landed on him instantly.
“Manee...?” he mumbled, voice soft with sleep.
Small.
Far too small.
Manepear closed his eyes for a brief moment.
Great.
His baby former mentee had regressed again.
There was no way he could just leave him out here.
And that was how Manepear ended up carrying Wemmbu all the way back to his base.
________
When Wemmbu woke up, the first thing he realized was that he was drooling.
The second thing he realized was that he was drooling on Manepear's shoulder.
The third thing he realized was that he didn't care.
With a sleepy hum, he tightened his grip around Manepear's neck, refusing to let go. He'd missed him. So much.
Slowly, Wemmbu tilted his head up. His eyes were glossy with lingering exhaustion, damp at the corners as he stared at the older man carrying him.
Manepear must have felt the movement.
Looking down, he blinked before a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Barely visible.
But it was there.
“Hi, Wemmbu.”
“Maneee...” Wemmbu whined.
Without missing a step, Manepear adjusted him higher on his hip.
“Yes?”
“Hiii...!”
A quiet laugh escaped him.
“Hello there.”
Wemmbu buried his face against his shoulder for a moment before peeking back up.
“I missed you.”
The words came out small.
“Where were you?”
Manepear hesitated.
“I was...busy.”
That wasn't really an answer.
Wemmbu knew it.
Manepear knew it.
Neither of them said anything.
For a while, only the sound of footsteps filled the silence.
Yet Manepear could still feel Wemmbu staring at him.
“Mane.”
“Yes?”
“I feel sad around you.”
His steps nearly faltered.
...Ah.
...Well great. Not even mad. Just sad.
Sometimes Manepear wished he could tear the past apart and start over.
Maybe then things would be different.
Maybe then Wemmbu wouldn't look at him like that.
“I see,” he said quietly. “Well. We'll have to fix that, won't we?”
Wemmbu blinked.
Then suddenly let out a surprised squeak as Manepear bounced him higher until their faces were level.
A small kiss landed on his cheek.
Wemmbu giggled immediately.
“You're silly.”
“Mee?” Manepear gasped dramatically. “No way. You're the silly one.”
“Nooo!!”
Wemmbu shoved weakly at his chest.
The effort only earned him another kiss.
And another.
And another.
“Mane!”
“Kiss attack.”
“Maneeee!”
“Kiss attack.”
“Maaaane!!”
“Kiss attack.”
Wemmbu dissolved into helpless laughter, squirming in his arms while Manepear continued peppering his cheeks with exaggerated affection.
For the first time since finding him in the woods, the sadness in Wemmbu's eyes started to fade.
Seeing it disappear made something in Manepear's chest loosen.
Good.
One problem solved.
Unfortunately, another appeared almost immediately.
"Mane."
"...Yes?"
"My arm hurts."
Manepear froze.
The laughter vanished.
Slowly, he pulled back enough to look at the smaller boy properly.
Only now did he notice the dried blood staining Wemmbu's sleeve.
His expression darkened instantly.
“Wemmbu.”
The serious tone made Wemmbu shrink slightly.
“...Yeah?”
“How long have you been injured?”
“...”
“Wemmbu.”
“A little bit?”
“A little bit.”
“A medium little bit?”
Manepear stared at him.
Wemmbu smiled nervously.
“I dunnoo..don't be angry, okay?”
Manepear sighed so deeply it sounded painful.
“Wemmbu.”
“Yess?”
“When we get home, I'm treating that wound.”
Wemmbu immediately groaned.
“Noooo.”
“Yes.”
“It'll hurt..”
“That's generally how disinfectant works.”
“I don't like that.”
“I gathered.”
Wemmbu buried his face into Manepear's shoulder with a dramatic whine.
Manepear rolled his eyes, but his grip tightened slightly.
For the first time in a very long while, neither of them let go.
_________
By the time they reached Manepear's base, Wemmbu was half-asleep again.
His arms were wrapped around Manepear's neck, and every few minutes he'd mumble something completely incomprehensible before immediately drifting back off.
“Mmh...”
“What?”
“...Purple.”
Manepear paused.
“What does that mean?”
“...Purple.”
Very helpful.
With a sigh, he pushed open the front door and stepped inside.
The familiar smell of home filled the room.
Immediately, Wemmbu lifted his head.
“Oh.”
His eyes widened.
“Ohhh.”
Manepear felt him perk up in his arms.
“I know dis place.”
“You do.”
“My place.”
“Our place.”
“My place.” Wemmbu insisted.
Manepear decided not to argue.
“Sure.”
The moment his feet touched the floor, Wemmbu immediately latched onto Manepear's sleeve.
He wasn't even trying to pretend he was going anywhere alone.
Manepear glanced down.
“Weren't you sleepy?”
“No.”
“You were asleep ten seconds ago.”
“Nuh uh.”
“You were drooling.”
“...”
Wemmbu looked away.
“I wasn't.”
“You absolutely were.”
“I wasn't.”
Manepear raised an eyebrow.
A string of drool was still on his shoulder.
Wemmbu followed his gaze.
“...”
“...”
“...Dat wasn't me.”
“Of course.”
Satisfied with that explanation, Wemmbu nodded.
Then immediately stumbled.
Manepear caught him before he could faceplant into the floor.
“Easy.”
“I's okay.”
“You nearly died.”
“I's okay.”
Manepear simply picked him back up.
“Hey!”
“No.”
“Wanna walk!”
“You can walk after your arm is treated.”
Wemmbu immediately gasped.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Nooooo.”
Manepear ignored him and headed deeper into the base.
Eventually he stopped in front of an old wooden dresser.
One of the drawers had a small lock on it.
Wemmbu blinked.
The drawer.
He knew that drawer.
Manepear stared at it for a moment.
It had been a long time since he'd opened it.
A very long time.
Slowly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small key.
Click.
The lock opened.
Wemmbu immediately leaned foward.
“Ooooh.”
The drawer slid open.
Inside was an assortment of items carefully organized despite their age.
Small blankets.
Stuffed animals.
Children's books.
A few old cups with lids.
Several colorful pacifiers.
And a collection of little comforts Manepear had gathered years ago whenever Wemmbu's regressions became particularly severe.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Wemmbu stared.
“Mane.”
“Yes?”
“You kept all dat?”
Manepear shrugged.
“Someone had to.”
His voice was casual.
Too casual.
Wemmbu knew him well enough to hear the affection underneath it.
His eyes became suspiciously watery.
“Mane...”
“Don't.”
“Maneee...”
“Don't.”
Wemmbu giggled.
Manepear reached into the drawer and pulled out a familiar blue cup.
The sight of it made Wemmbu's face light up.
“My cup!”
“Your cup.”
“I remember dat!”
“I would hope so.”
Manepear handed it over.
Wemmbu immediately hugged it against his chest like precious treasure.
“Mine.”
“Yes.”
“MINE.”
“Still yes.”
Then Manepear made the mistake of picking up one of the pacifiers.
The reaction was immediate.
Wemmbu's entire face turned bright red.
“Mane!”
“What?”
“No!”
“What?”
“Put dat away!”
“You used to love these.”
“I's big!”
Manepear looked at the child currently clutching a sippy cup while being carried around.
“Hm.”
“I AM.”
“Hm.”
“Mane!”
A laugh escaped him.
He gently ruffled Wemmbu's purple hair.
“Sit down.”
“No.”
“Wemmbu.”
“No.”
“We need to clean your arm.”
Wemmbu gasped in horror.
“HELP.”
“There is nobody here.”
“HELP.”
“Still nobody.”
“MANE'S BEING MEAN.”
“Who's being mean?”Flamefrags suddenly appeared in the doorway, one shoulder resting against the frame.
Wemmbu's head snapped up immediately.
“Flamey!”
“Flame?”
Flame stepped forward, ruffling Wemmbu's hair before effortlessly lifting him from Manepear's arms. As he settled the smaller boy against his hip, his gaze flicked toward Mane.
He knew enough about their history to be wary.
Not everything—just enough.
Enough to know things between them had ended badly.
Enough to know Wemmbu probably wasn't thrilled about seeing Manepear again, especially while regressed and vulnerable like this.
Flame was still angry about what happened at the capital. Blowing up an entire city wasn't exactly something a person forgot overnight.
But anger and concern weren't mutually exclusive.
Wemmbu had messed up.
Spectacularly.
That didn't mean Flame was willing to stand by and let him be uncomfortable or distressed.
So he held Wemmbu a little closer and kept a careful eye on Manepear.
...
They both ended up forcing Wemmbu to stay still as they cleaned his wound anyway.