Loving someone is the same as grieving for them. He decided this long ago and so far has not found a single shred of evidence to prove the contrary.
It explains perfectly well why he doesn't hold with loving people. Who would want to feel grief?
Even Turaga Nuju disagrees. Ice Toa are not, by nature, frozen, they just like to pretend they are. Love is not a disease, the older being says irritably, and if it was, it would do you good to get infected.
His Turaga's mind is most likely going. Kopaka grieves for him.
Gali makes him grieve, too, in both senses of the word.
He knows that sigh, that sigh means I love you, I do, but not as much as I love him, and I can't change that, not for you, for me, for anyone.
He wouldn't ask her to, anyways. He doesn't even hate Tahu for it. No, he's not as petty as that.
He hates the Fire Toa because he's a reckless, impulsive bastard who will ultimately get one of the team killed someday.
He knows this as certainly as he knew his own name, that one day too far will be too far and Tahu will lead a brother into death. And the Fire Toa will mourn, because Tahu grieves with his entire heart and not one shred less.
Odds are it will be a brother. If it is a sister (their sister, the one sister), that's less reconcilable. Firstly, Tahu would break, and the team would follow suit. Secondly, he can't envision it, because she would always come roaring back, she doesn't give so easy, she doesn't bend so easy, she doesn't bend at all.
Ah, fuck, her element should have been fire.
Grief is strange. It does things, makes you do things. It makes him smile when honestly, that joke wasn't funny, makes him give in to things he should really hold firm against. Sometimes, it even makes him laugh.
You cry for people you don't know. You cry for the loss of someone you never knew, you cry for small animals left in baskets on the side of the road. You cry when that one song is played that you fucking hate because it pushes all your buttons and it's one of those days.
It only makes sense he'd find himself grieving for others. Stupid puppy faces and 'please-won't-you-let-me', and that one son of a Rahkshi who never shuts up. Kopaka guesses he's lucky to have one person who would cry for him, anyways.
She would cry for him, too, and that's enough to make him stop for a moment and stare, confounded. It's the one thing that challenges his assumption that love is grief. (Not matter how many times Pohatu tells him 'well, I love you, anyways', it doesn't work the same, because the Toa of Ice would cry his eyes out for the Toa of Stone but not his heart.)
But she never changes his definition. It never works, would never work, because she's the goddamned lady of the lake and he's King Arthur, and Guinevere she is occasionally when the moon is low and the tide isn't as rough but Guinevere never loved Arthur, it was Lancelot, so he's screwed either way.
King Arthur floats away on lilies, and Kopaka realizes on day that the one Tahu will kill will be him, and he doubles over laughing.
That, that is enough to make him consider changing how he thinks, because the Toa of Ice is always grieving. For her, for him, for the rest of them, they who are so loud he can barely think and so impatient and illogical, they drive him up the wall but the floor is boring anyways—
and he doesn't want to leave. Not one of them, not even the being who will someday lead him to his death, he wants to hear their laughter and smile when they elbow him, looking for a reaction to the shittiest joke ever told because their sense of humor is horrible, worse than Turaga Matau's and you can't get much worse than that.
He wants to listen to Lewa chatter about unimportant things in a way that's almost like not having to think at all, he wants to appreciate the fact that Onua's the only other one who understands that silence doesn't have to be uncomfortable.
He wants to tell Pohatu that no, he doesn't mind the Toa of Stone walking with him, it makes his day better, it always makes his day better.
He wants to say to him, sometime before he dies, I do care, but not enough. I'm sorry, I am, but I can't change it, not for you, for me, for anyone.
He will say, long before he dies, I know you love me, I love you too, don't ever make me say that sentence to you again. (He will, anyways. He will say the sentence many times and it will always get a laugh.)
He wants to punch Tahu in the mask and then tell him he's done a good job, he'll always do a good job and he makes a damn fine Lancelot, and if anyone had to be the hero he's glad it's him because honestly he couldn't find it within him to hate anyone else on this team. You're an exception, be proud.
Lastly, he wants to sit by the lake, and tell her, this sword, this sword you gave me? it's kind of shit but I don't care, because it was a gift from you, and all your gifts I treasure. Nimue, Guinevere, those are all different aliases for Morgan, aren't they? It's alright, I love you anyways. I know you will cry for me, and that's enough.
He still thinks grief and love are the same. They're tied at the root, because without love you can't grieve, and you can't say you love someone if you wouldn't break your heart in two for them. But one implies that there is nothing worthwhile about either, while the other just shrugs at you. Hey, life sucks and you eventually die, but they make it a little better, don't they?
He supposes he's thoroughly infected, because he's not the slightest bit grieved to admit that yes, yes they do.