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His calloused feet dug into the still warm sand from before eclipse, which comfortably hugged his rough skin. He took a shallow breath in, the oppressive weight on his chest briefly lifting as the smell of salty, earthy seawater filled his lungs.
It was too much.
Everything was just too much.
Having to keep up with his father's absurd expectations of him, especially with the title of being the eldest son of Toruk Makto, and having to watch and take care of his siblings constantly as if that isn't a fathers job to do. The stress of leaving home to go to a completely foreign place; where everybody there viewed his family as demons. Atop of all that the teasing him and his siblings experienced was not making anything better, and he just wants a break from everything. To simply press pause on the world and things around him, but he knew this was not possible.
He wanted a moment away from all the lessons he had yet to learn from the reef people, but mainly the nonstop berating from his father for such things that weren't even his fault.
"If something happens to them, it's on you. That's what being the eldest means."
Or whatever. It was stupid. He felt like a failure, or apparently, he was to his dad. He spent his whole life trying to prove to him that he was worthy enough, that he was a decent warrior but his father never believed in him, it was never enough, he kept pushing him to be better—believing his limit could be stretched to be even stronger.
He was tired, mentally exhausted of giving it his all for what he now feels was useless. All he ever wanted was to be noticed by his father. He wanted him to notice and appreciate his accomplishments and achievements.
Was a simple "I'm proud of you" really too hard?
Thus, here he sits, chin sitting on his knees as he hugs his legs. His tears from earlier he never bothered to wipe crusted on his cheeks and on the corner of his eyes, he stopped crying and was now just absentmindedly looking at the endless, unknown sea in front of him, although the red tint stayed in the rims of his eyes. It has been a month since they moved here, and now ever since, it was his habit for him to sneak out of his marui when his family slept and to come here to look at the waters and sometimes let out his emotions, with no one around to see past the walls he set. For a moment, the sound of the waves was enough to quiet his seemingly always rapid thoughts.
But it never lasted long.
His father’s voice slipped back into his mind, once more, uninvited and sharp. “You were supposed to keep an eye on them.”
Neteyam’s jaw tightened.
He had been watching them. He always was—It was all he ever did! Watching, protecting, trying to make sure nothing went wrong. Still, things always did. And somehow, it was always his fault. Always him being blamed for Lo'ak's stupid actions, Tuk accidentally injuring herself, His dad always found a way to point it back to him.
He grew frustrated, He dug his fingers into the sand beside him, the grains slipping between them.
I really tried.
The words stayed lingering in his head. He imagined saying them aloud, imagined his father actually hearing him for once. But even in his own thoughts, it felt pointless. His father would only look at him the same way he always did; disappointed.
His chest tightened.
No matter how hard he trained to be better. No matter how careful he was with his siblings. No matter how much he pushed himself until his muscles burned and his lungs ached, it was never enough.
A sharp sting prickled the back of his eyes. He blinked hard, swallowing against the pressure building in his throat, but the tears slipped free anyway, trailing silently down his cheeks.
His shoulders trembled as he pulled his knees closer to his chest.
He was so tired of trying. It was pointless anyway.
The first sob broke out of him before he could even hold it back, raw and uneven. Another followed, and suddenly the dam holding everything back fell. His breathing hitched as he buried his face against his arms, the sound of his crying swallowed by the crashing waves against shore.
His breaths grew more ragged as he sobbed. He felt as if he couldn't do anything and was left to just wait it out, if that was even possible. He fisted his hands in his braids as an attempt to ground himself, as he always did when hid emotions got out of hand like this.
His ears pinned back at the sound of sand shifting a few feet away from him, his heart stopping. He was hesitant to look up, and if he was being honest, he didn't want to. He wasn't ready to face who it was, oh god—What if it was his father? What if he noticed he was gone and went to find him?—He choked out another sob before he could stop it. He couldn't let him see him like this. All weak and pathetic, how could he even be seen as a warrior by his father after that? Crying for seemingly no reason, he knew he'd be disappointed, as he always was.
"Um— Are you okay..?"
Oh. It was Ao'nung.
He didn't want to look up, he didn't have to look up to know it was Ao'nung. He recognized that voice, the voice that spat shameless insults at him and his siblings. He couldn't care enough to acknowledge him. He feels so exposed, so frail, and especially pathetic. He can hear Ao'nung speaking, but the words couldn't quite come to him. He knew he was probably making fun of him right now, probably laughing at him. He wanted to shrink away.
he moved his hands towards the back of his head, his arms blocking his ears trying to stop his stupid voice from reaching his ears, he was too tired for this right now. His eyes were still swollen, and fatigue suddenly washed over him.
The Metkayinan has his mouth ajar, as if wanting to say something, ask something, anything, but it wouldn't come out. He decided to sit down beside him, waiting until he was ready to speak.
A full minute. A minute of only the sounds of water clashing on shore, of groups of animals in the distance, and the rhythmic way their heart beats in sync was what could be heard, until Neteyams voice cut in while Ao'nung was listening to some ilus still playing at this hour.
"..Why are you here?"
He removed his arms from his ears and wrapped them around his legs. He cocked his head to the side to look at him, and then when making eye contact with the teal ones gaze, he turned away nervously.
"I couldn't sleep, so I took a walk and saw you uh— crying." He forced out the last word as if Neteyam might take offense, but he couldn't find any other way to describe what Neteyam was doing on the shore.
The Omatikaya nodded, letting out a hum in response, continuing to stare into the endless sea in front of them.
"Can I ask why you are crying?" The teal one never tore his eyes off of the other, always keeping his gaze trained on the Omatikayan. Though it seemed to be the opposite for the other, avoiding looking even in his direction.
He cleared his throat, not wanting to risk embarrassing hinself with his voice cracking. ".. No.." He was used to not telling anyone how he felt. He typically bottled up his emotions until they were too much to bear. Then, in that case, he would find a secluded place and let them out to his hearts content, and even that was a rare occurance. He never told anybody the problems he was facing, nor how much he was hurting because of them. He didn't want to seem like a burden.
"Okay." The teal one conveyed with genuine understanding, which was appalling for someone like Ao'nung, the same Ao'nung that almost drove his little brother to death.
They sat in silence, each second that passes getting increasingly awkward, or maybe it was just him that felt this way. The silence gave Neteyam this weird urge to vent to him, maybe it was to fill it, or maybe the silence is unrelated and he just really needs someone to talk to.
Neteyam let out a short sigh. "I-" He cut himself off and pulled in a dragged inhale and continued. He was really doing this. "I.. have always been the one everyone leans on. The one who's supposed to have it together." He forced out in one breath, feeling unused to such words leaving his mouth. He continued, trying to find his words. "I kept telling myself that if I gave my everything, one day it would finally feel like enough.. That they'd- He'd be proud of me."
He cringed at himself, half-regretting this, but he was in too deep, and if he was being honest, it was nice to actually let out his emotions, even if it was to someone who probably hates him. "I am supposed to be the strong one, but I am not. And I am just so tired of- of pretending I am—" Tears welled up in his eyes as he tried to blink them gone furiously, trying to focus on the blurry sand grains. "I don't even know who I am anymore. Who I am past the image I let everyone see." His voice cracked and softened at the last sentence.
He turned his head away from him, not wanting to see the emotions on his face that probably weren't positive. Mocking or disgust. They sat in silence for a few moments, the increasing time only pushing Neteyams want to just get up and leave. He already fully regretted telling him anything. Now he's going to spread that to everyone that Neteyam is actually just weak. That Neteyam—
Chuckle. "You're not as perfect as you look."
He softly whipped his head towards him, brows furrowing in frustration. He felt his throat tighten up, the lump forming already. He was met with the metkayina and his usual teasing smirk. Once he saw the redness in Neteyams eyes and tears welling up once more, his smirk dropped instantly.
Neteyam huffed in annoyance and quickly stood up, staring at the ground as his braids partially covered his face. "I should've known better than to let my guard down." He spat, mostly to himself. He spinned on the heels of his feet and started walking away with a hasted pace, muttering to himself as the tears he tried not to let fall rolled down his cheeks. "I know I'm not perfect.. 'think I dont know that.." He muttered to himself, kicking the sand as he walked, wishing he was buried under the same sand.
"Neteyam wait—" He grabbed hold of his wrist, his grasp loose, as if he was worried about injuring him, yet firm so he couldn't yank free. "What." He spat. "Do you wish to continue tormenting me?" He sneered, as if trying to defend himself, which he knew was impossible past this point.
"Neteyam, I didn't mean it like that, I'm sorry.. I meant that you, when I first saw you, I was jealous. You're the perfect son, so very strong, and I admired your perseverance. And when I found out that even you had imperfections, it.. it shocked me."
He still kept his grip firm, fidgeting and drawing circles around the bone on his wrist with his thumb. He looked down at his toes wriggling in the sand.
"Thats all.." he murmured.
Heat rose to Neteyams cheeks, painting them a saturated indigo at hearing Ao'nung's confession and praise. The fact he was rubbing circles on his skin did not make the blush settle down in anyway.
"I.." He struggled to get the words out. Actually, he just didn't know what to say. "Ah,"
"Im sorry if I offended you, Neteyam." He looked back up at him with a sincere apologetic look on his face. Neteyam was thankful he apologized, but again, he found himself questioning how this was the same Ao'nung that made fun of his siblings.
"It's fine. Dont worry about it." He smiled at him. He turned and saw the night sky brightening just a touch, orange hues mixing with the blue. Once Ao'nung let his grasp go, Neteyam sat back down, crossing his legs in the sand as he stared at the beautiful sunrise infront of him.
He turned to Ao'nung that also sat down, He wiped the tears that clung onto his cheek he never wiped earlier. "Please ignore any of this happened, and whatever I told you.." He looked back at Ao'nung with a soft yet serious expression on his face.
"Mn, I'm glad you told me." He smiled softly, the smile wrinkling the area around his eyes. A smile that did something inside to Neteyam.
Neteyams brows furrowed slightly in confusion, ears twitching backward. "Glad?"
Ao'nung nods. "Because now I know the real you. And I like him better than the perfect one." He smirked, though it was more of a meaningful tease instead of a mocking tease.
Red rose to his cheeks, staining them a saturated purple once more, as he felt his cheeks ache from how hard he was smiling. Since when was he even smiling? Who cares. He shoved him playfully, slipping out a giggle.