Archive of Our Own

Takua is not a morning person. This is not unusual, at least not when one accounts for his general laziness. Jaller quickly loses track of the days that he has to send someone to drag that slacker out of bed, or even go himself when he has no assistant to spare. It is an arduous task, physically dragging him to his feet and leading his bleary self to a fire to get him warmed up and ready for his duties— not that he pays any mind to those.

Takua insists, whenever the topic comes up, that he can wake himself up just fine, if they'd just let him get enough sleep. "Enough sleep," Jaller mocks. "The only time you get up on your own is when the sun is high enough to get you right in the eyes and force you to wake up."

"Exactly," Takua says, as if that isn't an absurd amount of rest compared to how much work he does.

It takes him a long time to warm up, too. Where another Ta-Matoran might only need a minute by smoldering coals, a quick pick-me-up after a bit too much time in chilly air, Takua can easily doze right off under those same circumstances. Only a proper crackling flame will spark him awake, and even then, it still takes him some time in the sun to shake off the rust and get into full gear.

And every so often, when the ash of the Mangai hangs particularly thick in the air, Takua will vanish from Ta-Koro entirely, taking an unauthorized trip out into Ta-Wahi just to have a nap where no one can find him.

No one, that is, until Jaller follows him.

It's purely by chance that he catches Takua sneaking out. He nearly calls out, but pauses when he remembers that Takua is supposed to be on the other side of the village right now. His suspicions are confirmed when Takua slips out through one of the side entrances, and from that point on Jaller is stalking his kolhii-headed prey.

He expects Takua to wander off into the jungle. That's where Jaller would go if he wanted to shirk his duties— which he doesn't because he's a responsible member of society. It's full of countless hiding places, and more than a few cliffs overlooking the lake of fire that catch a lot of rising heat. Probably. He wouldn't know, because he doesn't shirk his duty to go find out.

Takua takes the other path, though. Jaller trails far behind, ready to duck behind an obstacle if Takua happens to glance back. They reach the beach and Jaller lingers even further behind as Takua marches out into the open, looks around briefly— Jaller ducks, peeks out a few seconds later, and finds Takua just as oblivious— and then dropping to the sand, folding his hands behind his head, and dozing.

Jaller stares. Takua remains out in the open, drinking in the sunlight, bright and shiny and ripe for the eating by whatever rahi passes by. Jaller blinks, and he almost expects something to swoop in during that split-second of blindness, stealing Takua away never to be seen again.

Nothing does, of course. Takua is still there, and still an obnoxious slacker.

Now equipped with more questions than he'd started with, Jaller hops out of his hiding place. He doesn't try to sneak, kicking up sand and gravel and letting it crunch underfoot. Still, he gets nearly halfway across the beach before Takua tilts his head, and is only a few strides away when Takua opens his eyes, sees him, and promptly yelps and scrambles to his feet.

"Jaller! Hi!" Takua says, trying and failing to stand at attention. "I was just, uh…"

"Sunbathing?" Jaller drawls, crossing his arms.

"...Yeah," Takua says, slumping and giving up on excuses. "It's too cloudy in Ta-Koro, I need some proper light."

"There's plenty of light in Ta-Koro," Jaller says, incredulous. "Did you miss the giant pit of glowing lava? Or the torches?"

"It's not the same!" Takua insists. "Sunlight is better!"

"You're right, it isn't the same," Jaller says. A cool wind catches him off the sea, carrying a spray of seafoam, and he suppresses a shiver. "Lava is hotter, too."

"It's warm enough," Takua huffs. "And it…"

However that sentence ends, it's too mumbled to make out. "What was that last bit?" Jaller asks, leaning in.

"It tastes better!" Takua shouts.

Jaller's thoughts grind to a halt. "Excuse me?"

"The sun tastes better," Takua repeats, indignant, as though his words would be blindingly obvious to anyone with a brain. "Lava is way too red. The sun has more green, and blue, and kind of this purply taste? It's better. Maybe you like red, but I like other colors too."

"Takua," Jaller says. "What are you talking about."

"What do you mean, what am I talking about?"

"What do you mean, what do I mean?!" Jaller asks. "Light doesn't have a flavor!"

Takua inhales to retort, then hesitates. "...Doesn't it?" he asks. "You know, when it hits your mask…"

"It's light," Jaller insists. "It's just warm."

"Huh."

Jaller presses his hands over his eyes and counts to ten. "Did you hit your head again?" he asks, once he's a little less tempted to pick Takua up and throw him into the sea.

"I don't think so?" Takua says, rubbing his head. "It doesn't hurt or anything. Maybe I'm just weird."

"Well, if you could be 'just weird' while doing your job, that would be nice," Jaller says. Takua laughs nervously and doesn't stop Jaller from dragging him back to Ta-Koro, and Jaller counts that as a success.

And the next day, when Jaller needs to drag Takua out of bed, he stops short of parking him in front of a bonfire. Instead he marches Takua up the eastern wall, props him up against the battlement, and lets the first few rays of dawn shine on him.

Within minutes, Takua is wide awake and ready to complain about being awake so early. Jaller argues back, does everything in his power to drill the daily duties into Takua's head, and quietly files this all away for future reference.