IV

"Lela, come here—I think he's waking up. Makuta?"

Ekimu's voice was a light in the darkness… or would have been, were Makuta in the mood. Now, it was just a pain in the neck.

"What." Makuta's tone was flat.

"Oh, thank goodness," Ekimu said, sighing deeply. "I thought you were in a coma. Are you alright?"

"Until now, yes," grumbled Makuta, sitting up in bed. "I was sleeping deeper than I usually…" He stopped, squinting. His eyes hadn't adjusted to the light, but from what he could see, there was another figure next to his brother. "What's that?"

The figure smirked. "I'd like to think I'm a person."

A warm smile gracing his face, Ekimu turned to the figure. "Makuta, this is Lelaka. She's a friend of mine."

"A friend?" Lelaka said, nudging Ekimu's arm. "Hoped I was a little more than all that."

Ekimu rolled his eyes, but in an obviously joking manner. He looked back at Makuta. "Well, Lela is… She means a great deal to me."

Makuta stared blankly. "How… how long has this been going on?"

Lelaka answered for Ekimu. "Oh, a couple of—wait. Ekimu, you haven't told him?"

"Well, I—" Ekimu started to say.

"A couple of what, exactly?" Makuta interrupted, tensing. "Don't try to cushion the blow, Ekimu. Just tell me: how long? Weeks? Days? Minutes?"

Ekimu glanced at Lelaka with a troubled look; Lelaka looked back at him with an insistent expression. He turned to Makuta. "Well… Lelaka and I, we… it's been for around… three, four?" He looked back at Lelaka, who nodded in confirmation. "Three or four months," he said.

Makuta spluttered. "Mon—gyhh—a couple—a four—MONTHS?!"

Ekimu sighed. "I… I didn't want to tell you since… I thought you might react like this."

Lelaka added, "But four months isn't so long, is it?"

Ekimu shot her a "that really isn't helping" expression, then looked back at Makuta. "Look, I… I'm sorry, okay? I just… it didn't have to do with you, so I thought…"

Makuta scowled. "So you weren't going to tell me until when—when I receive a wedding invitation? We only have each other, Ekimu; it makes good sense to me that you should tell me your secrets. I tell you mine, and I can tell both of you at least two of those secrets are more important than—"

"Makuta, stop." It was Lelaka. There was hurt, but also a fierce fire in her eyes. "I know you're angry right now," she said in a carefully restrained voice, "but it won't help any of us if you make yourself more upset."

"Upset?" Makuta shot up to his feet. "Upset doesn't even begin to describe how I feel! I'm rudely woken up in the middle of a perfectly good sleep, only to get the knowledge my brother's been…" He searched for a word, then said with painful emphasis, "Canoodling."

Ekimu put a hand on Makuta's shoulder—hard. "I apologize for waking you up," he said in a controlled, yet harsh tone. "You should probably get some more sleep, okay?"

Makuta dug his fingers into his palm so hard he almost dented the metal. He sighed, forcing himself to calm down. "Good idea, brother. My anger has been rather pointless."

"That's it." Ekimu's grip on his brother's shoulder softened. "Just get some rest. Again, I'm sorry for waking you at a bad time. Come on, Lelaka. We should let him rest."

Lelaka nodded, but as she began to walk away, she turned to Makuta with an expression resembling a mix between annoyance and pity.

As he watched them leave, Makuta sat down on his bed. Reaching back, he began to massage his sore shoulder. It's always him, he thought. He makes all the good masks, gets all the popularity…

He looked up for a second, looking out the doorway. And now he has a girl. But why? Why him? I'd prefer it if we both received mediocre, perhaps even no, praise, so long as it was equal. I'm not asking for much, am I? I'm not asking for anything more than just… just being on par with him! Is that too much to ask?

He set his hands on the bed, his clenched fists threatening to tear the delicate cloth. He stared straight through the floor, trying to think logically. The villagers have always favored his masks above mine, but why? Is it because of the metal he uses? Couldn't be—we use the same material. Is it his own mask, then? Simple talent, perhaps? No… his mask. His mask, of course—the mask of Creation! Why couldn't I have known this whole time?

Makuta stood up abruptly. Almost automatically he sat down at his desk, snatching a tin sheet so quickly the pile almost fell over. If he had noticed, he didn't care. He began to fold.