A gift fic for my dear friend, raptormoon. This was inspired by her fanfiction "Send Your Armies." It's not available on this archive, but if you check the OTHER archive.. you'll find it. Go read it! It's wonderful! :D
Something was wrong with Maui. Well, there was a lot wrong with Maui, but listing it all would take too long and today there was something different wrong with him. All day, he had been morose and grumpy. Any question or attempt at conversation was met with gruff dismissal or sharp rebuke.
For a young crab monster, it was terribly perplexing. It seemed as if everything Tamatoa did was wrong today. When he accidentally knocked over a basket of fruit, Maui had scolded him harshly. When he had started singing to himself—a song Maui had taught him no less—Maui had snapped at him to be quiet in a voice so fierce that Tamatoa had retreated into his borrowed snail shell to hide himself away. And this was all barely before mid-morning! To make things worse, more than once but only ever out of the corner of his eye, he had caught Maui staring at him with a strange expression—a resentful expression.
Tamatoa didn't understand. He had done nothing wrong that he knew of, but starting a handful of days prior, Maui had grown steadily grumpier and less patient. Finally, the demigod had declared they were going back out to sea. They had loaded up the canoe and set sail before the afternoon was out, with Maui coaxing every bit of speed out of the little boat.
Maui had barely spoken as they sailed, sitting grimly at the steering oar. By the time they'd reached a new island the next day, Tamatoa was thoroughly confused and wondering what he might have done to upset Maui so much. He just hoped things might get better once they landed on the island.
But they didn't.
Maui had gone into the village, disappearing into the fale of a young woman. Tamatoa was not invited in with them.
Bored and lonely, he watched the villagers working in the taro fields. It was harvest time and there were many baskets being filled with broad leaves and hairy tubers. Nearly all the villagers were busy at work in those fields. Distantly, Tamatoa recalled the last taro harvest. Maui was unhappy then, too. Same for the taro harvest the year before that. And before that, well, Tamatoa couldn't really remember much before that. Even so, it was always the same time of year that Maui got so upset.
Maybe it wasn't Tamatoa's fault, maybe it was the taro. Maybe it was the seasons changing. It wasn't his fault, right?
Whatever it was, he'd just have to cheer Maui up. He put a pincer to his chin, trying to think what would do the trick. Well, Tamatoa knew what made him happy—maybe those things would make Maui happy, too. A smile spread across his face and he scampered off into the village.
It was easy work to find what he was looking for, then he was off to find Maui. He wasn't in the fale with the human anymore, so Tamatoa headed back to the canoe in hopes of finding the demigod.
There he was! Maui was sitting on the deck of the canoe in the sun, staring silently off at the horizon—gazing across the cove, back in the direction they had come from. Tamatoa hurried over, clutching what he'd found carefully in his pincers.
The demigod didn't look up at his approach and Tamatoa slowed down, uncertain. He sidled over cautiously, hoping to avoid more sharp words. Maui remained silent, so Tamatoa climbed up onto the deck and edged closer. Once he was beside the demigod, he proudly held out what he had found—a perfectly ripe mango, its skin bright orange and dusted with a rosy pink blush. It smelled so good that Tamatoa had wanted to take a bite himself, but he had resisted the impulse. It was a gift for Maui!
But Maui didn't even look at it. The demigod only sighed heavily and said nothing, ignoring him and the fragrant gift.
Tamatoa tried again, holding it out more prominently in Maui's line of sight. Yet still there was no reaction.
Pursing his lips into a frown, Tamatoa looked at the mango. He traced it with his antennae, checking to make sure there was nothing wrong with it. Maybe there was a mushy spot or something that he had missed in his initial inspection. But no, the mango smelled amazing—perfect and ripe and sweet. Maui didn't seem interested, though.
Well, he'd just have to find something better. Tamatoa left the mango there, sitting on the deck next to the demigod. After all, maybe Maui might want it later. Then he scampered off to find something better.
He was back a little while later, this time with a new present. This one was heavy and Tamatoa struggled with it, dragging it across the sand to the boat with great effort. It was hard work to get it onto the deck of the canoe. Tamatoa had to cling with his back legs to the outrigger, dangling over the side, and use all his strength to heave his latest prize up. Huffing and puffing for breath, he finally managed to get it aboard. Scuffling the last little ways on the old timber, he hauled it across the deck and deposited it next to Maui, who still hadn't moved from his spot.
Maui didn't even glance at the enormous bunch of ripe bananas, still attached to a thick stalk and easily bigger than Tamatoa was himself. Tamatoa pulled one of the bananas off the bunch and held it out, but he still didn't get even the slightest reaction from his friend.
Disappointed by the demigod's lack of enthusiasm for this gift, Tamatoa took the banana in his pincer and poked Maui firmly in the leg with it. Maui only wordlessly waved him off, as if shooing away a particularly meddlesome pest. Tamatoa's face fell. Nevertheless, he set the banana down with the rest, pushing them all over to where he'd left the mango.
Maybe Maui wasn't hungry. Food always made Tamatoa feel better, but maybe that wasn't enough for Maui. Something else then, perhaps. Tamatoa pondered on this, thinking of other things that made him happy that might make Maui happy too.
Oh! A thought struck him and he set off again, this time heading down towards the beach on the other side of the cove.
The afternoon was young and Tamatoa took his time, carefully selecting the best and loveliest things for this next present. When he was satisfied with his collection, he trotted back down the beach with his claws full of little treasures. Surely this would cheer Maui up!
Climbing back aboard the canoe, Tamatoa crept over to Maui one more time, taking care to keep ahold of all the goodies he'd gathered. Despite his efforts, they were spilling out of his pincers anyway. A cascade of pearly seashells and pretty stones, all painstakingly collected and curated, tumbled onto the deck. Catching the sunlight, they glittered and gleamed enticingly in the late afternoon.
And yet Maui still didn't seem to care. He didn't even look at them—not even a passing glance. Disheartened and discouraged, Tamatoa pushed them to the side where they joined the pile of other rejected gifts.
The little crab sighed and gave up. Resigned, he flopped down onto the wooden deck beside Maui. Legs and claws dangling over the edge and antennae drooping low, Tamatoa joined him in staring despondently at the horizon.
For what seemed like an eternity to a young, antsy crab, not a word was spoken. Then, Tamatoa curled his sagging eyestalks to look tentatively up at his friend.
"I'm sorry, Maui," he said, no louder than a whisper.
Then Tamatoa looked away. He didn't know what he'd done, why Maui was so unhappy or why had been so cross with him. Whatever it was, though, he was very sorry for it.
Afraid to look at his friend, he went on, voice small. "Please don't be mad. Don't be unhappy. I'm sorry."
A moment passed in silence. Wary but unable to resist peeking, Tamatoa snuck a quick glance up at the demigod.
Maui was staring at him, not with resentment now, but with shock. Then the surprise gave way to something else, something equal parts guilty and ashamed.
There was a deep sigh. "It's not your fault," Maui said slowly, distantly. He was looking at Tamatoa strangely. It was almost as if he was looking at Tamatoa, yet seeing something entirely different. Finally, he shook his head. "Not yours."
Tamatoa quirked an eye, peering up at him with cautious curiosity. "Is it the taro harvest?"
Maui blinked, caught off guard. "What?"
"The taro. It's always this time of year you get sad."
Maui was looking at him oddly again—as if thrown off by the innocent question. "No," he said, his expression shifting to reveal something more raw and exposed. He went on, almost automatically. "Something—something bad happened, a long time ago."
Tamatoa inched closer to him, staring up with wide, round eyes. "What was it?"
The demigod looked startled for an instant, as if he was surprised by his own words. Then the moment of openness vanished almost as quickly as it appeared. His voice turned light and airy again. "Nothing you need to worry about," he assured, careless cheer returning to color his tone.
Just as smoothly as he ever was, Maui reached down to pick up one of the tiny, brilliant seashells Tamatoa had collected. He smiled kindly down at him. "Look at all these pretty things you found!" he exclaimed, holding the shell up to catch the sun. "Where did you find them all?" he asked, putting on an air of enthusiasm.
Tamatoa beamed, pride shining through, spurred by Maui's attention. Distracted, he quickly proceeded to tell Maui all about where he found each pearlescent shell and each polished stone. Maui nodded attentively along while he rambled on.
When Tamatoa was done explaining where each and every little treasure came from, it seemed all was well again. Maui split the deliciously ripe mango in half and together they shared it as the sun began to go down.
As the stars began to come out overhead, Tamatoa peered at his friend, who had just declared it was time to sail on again. Yes, Maui's mood had lightened considerably. Gone were the accusatory stares and the cold rejection. He hadn't said another sharp word to Tamatoa since either, but the little crab still didn't fully understand why Maui was so upset to begin with.
Now Maui was busy getting the canoe ready to sail, cheerfully singing and putting on a big show of it. It was a thin mask and, even young as Tamatoa was, he could tell something was still not quite right.
He wondered what had happened to Maui so long ago at this time of year. What happened to him? What made him so sad? Why had he looked at Tamatoa with such bitterness?
Maui was singing louder now, brash and brassy as he pointed the canoe seaward and to new horizons once again. He sang as if he hadn't a care in the world.
Maybe, Tamatoa thought as they sailed off together, maybe someday he would find out the truth.