Sea breezes and coconuts. The smell lingered on even as Kayamba hoisted the cleaned out Pin Tuna onto his shoulder. A wet thump followed. Pleased, the shakalaka wobbled through the narrow streets of Moga Village. He dodged through the maze of legs and baskets to the only place he knew as home. The hunter's house.
Cha-Cha spotted him first. His enemy turned friend sprung up from his place on the bed. The hunter looked up next, but only for a moment. Their hands were deep in a wooden tub, scrubbing away at their newest pair of greaves. The muck and grunge accumulated from the dual Diablos hunt would take time to rub out. This in mind, Kayamba took it upon himself to snatch up a Pin Tuna for dinner, sparing them a trip to the bistro. Cha-Cha grabbed at the oversized fish. Kayamba scowled and danced out of his way.
"Share fish with Cha-Cha."
Kayamba slammed the fish onto the shakalaka's head. The resounding thump satisfied him but earned a scowl from the hunter. A spark of worry lit. They couldn't be that mad. Kayamba had done far worse to Cha-Cha in the middle of battle. This was nothing. He opened his mouth to apologize but a gentle laugh settled Kayamba's fears in an instant. They weren't mad at him. As long as the hunter wasn't mad at him Kayamba could keep smiling. He could even tolerate Cha-Cha as long as the hunter kept smiling.
"Cha-Cha not happy!"
"Cha-Cha dummy for taking dinner from Kayamba."
Cha-Cha wormed from underneath the tuna. He brushed himself of but still stunk heavily off fish. The hunter's nose curled in visible disgust as stray scales splattered on the wooden floor. Even in the fading light of day the white scales sparked against the once clean floor.
"Dinner not cooked." He kicked the partially unwrapped fish. "Cha-Cha hungry."
"I'll cook dinner in a few minutes. You two need a bath."
An attempt to run was thwarted by the tell tale sound of a bow switching open.
"Run and there's no dinner."
With that threat, the two shakalakas whimpered on the spot. They idled as the tub was prepared for them.
"Cha-Cha not want to take bath." Cha-Cha folded his arms across his chest and sat down with a thump. The hunter sighed at his little display of aggression but continued to shave bits of soap into the washed out tub.
"Hunter says wash up for dinner. Cha-Cha smell like fish." Kayamba waved his hands at his friend. The stench of fish mixed with whatever else Cha-Cha rolled in that day. It might have included Diablos feces.
"Manly musk from hunting!" Cha-Cha said. Tiny palms slammed against the floor. "Cha-Cha not need bath."
"Cha-Cha need food."
"Why Kayamba not stand with fellow shakalaka? Always with hunter." Cha-Cha shoved Kayamba, glaring up at him the best one could with a mask. "Kayamba like hunter too much. Minion is minion. Kayamba better than minion. Not better than Cha-Cha though."
Kayamba rubbed his sore arm. Cha-Cha picked a sore spot. There was no such thing as liking someone too much, was there? And it wasn't his fault the hunter happened to be right most of the time. It was their job to pick up the slack, after all. It's what minions did.
So when the hunter gingerly took off his cape and hung the dusty thing on a hook, Kayamba didn't think much of it. He slipped into the warm water without complaint. He slapped Cha-Cha's hand before it could smear soap all over his mask. He washed up just as the hunter asked, stepping out of the tub with a few fish scales on his arm.
The hunter stood by the stove. Pin Tuna stew was in the making. The house smelled warm and comforting. A few Hot Peppers and maybe some blue mushrooms along with the massive amount of vegetables would make it perfect. Kayamba was smacked out of thought by a wet body crashing against his own.
"Kayamba love minion," Cha-Cha hissed into Kayamba's ear. An appropriate response would have been brushing it off as Cha-Cha brand stupidity. But Kayamba was never did think much of logic. Instead he whirled around and punched Cha-Cha on his bare chest hard enough to force out a howl of pain at the hit. Retaliation was quick.
Wet thumps and childish howls filled the home. The two still nude children rolled about in a ball of fists and kicks. Screeches of "not" and "too" persisted until the hunter appeared. Their strong hands grabbed both children by the shoulder. Ripped apart but still angry, Kayamba clawed at Cha-Cha in vain.
"Minion, Cha-Cha attacked by crazy Kayamba. What happened to friendo?"
"Not friendo! Liar!" Kayamba pulled his head back to spit at Cha-Cha's feet. Only the stern look of the hunter stopped him. He recoiled in shame.
"Get dressed for dinner. No fighting."
Cha-Cha's haughty air did nothing for Kayamba's mood.
"Minion below you. You thank Cha-Cha later." Cha-Cha laid a hand on Kayamba's shoulder. "Friendo."
The acorn jerk looking out for him was a bitter thought. What would the shakalaka who'd tried to kill him so many times know about love? Cha-Cha had worse luck in affairs of the heart. For all he knew Cha-Cha could just be keeping company. He'd always been an enemy even with countless battles forging their makeshift friendship. Their shared minion had done some of the work. Hours upon hours off coaxing and pleading lead to someone Kayamba could relatively trust. But what about this?
He picked at his dinner. The first two bowls had gone lukewarm from hesitation. The hunter asked once or twice why he didn't scarf down his food like Cha-Cha, especially after their fight. He'd pulled together a quickly forgotten response that was just enough to please them. Acorn head was sneering beneath his mask. It took considerable strength not to fling himself across table and smack acorn head off his book stack and claw the mask off. Cha-Cha kept it up through the night as they got ready for bed.
"Give minion funny looks at dinner." Cha-Cha spat his mouthwash out over the window ledge. "Kayamba not listen to Cha-Cha?"
"No, Cha-Cha stupid!"
A minute of silence. Kayamba stormed out of the bathroom. Distancing himself from Cha-Cha could save this night and banish the growing need to acquaint his stomach contents with the sea. He opted for bed. The hunter's bed. They laid in bed with their latest weapon. Their fingers ran over the shield's rough leather. So caught up in the wonder of today's accomplishment, they didn't notice Kayamba climbing into bed until he sat beside them.
"Thank you for today, Kayamba. You stole that fang for me. Wouldn't have this without you."
He scrabbled at his mask. Pulling at the sides did nothing for the flush of heat inside. A few whines later he willed himself to stop, if only to quell the strange looks the hunter gave him. He'd messed up too many times today and they were obviously going to get rid of him. Worse yet, leave him behind and only take that dumb brat Cha-Cha along. The threat of loneliness forced his stomach to lurch and a litany of apologies to bloom in the back of his throat. The hunter pet him on the head. They laughed just a bit, then placed the weapon on the floor beside the bed.
"You gonna be okay there, Kayamba?"
"Minion not worry about hunting master Kayamba. Minion worry about self!"
"Right," said the hunter, a sly smile spread across their face. "Then let's go to bed, friendo."
Kayamba laid his naked head upon the hunter's chest. The comforting thump of their heart echoed within the world of sea breezes and coconuts. It laid undisturbed even as Cha-Cha climbed into bed, cursing about the darkness. Everything was right as he drifted off to sleep. He clung to the hunter even as their heart beat slowed into the peaceful rhythm of sleep. Echoing on in his mind, he took eternal solace in sunny days, sandy beaches, and his beloved hunter.