VII

Who… who am I? No, that's a stupid question. I'm… Makuta, that's right. Pfft. Why shouldn't I remember that? No, but what, what I should really be asking is… is where am I?

Not caring enough to get up, Makuta put his hand to the wall. It felt cold and damp, like a cave—in fact, it was dark and moist enough to be one.

Makuta let his hand fall limply to the floor, wincing as it landed hard. But he didn't care. He didn't care where he was, what was going to happen, anything. It didn't matter. He was tired, and needed sleep. Yes… Sleep was what he wanted…

Cree-EEIIK.

The sound snapped Makuta out of his thoughts. He wanted to call to whomever was there… but on the other hand, no. It was probably nothing. Now, he would get back to resting. Yes, rest and sleep. Perfect…

"Er… Makuta?"

Makuta groaned. Another interruption? "Leave me alone," he said. Or rather, tried to say. What came out was a mumbled, "Lemme 'lun."

A small reply came back in echoes. "Are… are you alright? You sound terrible."

Makuta didn't care to reply. He just wanted to sleep in peace. A few seconds later, he was on the very brink of warmth and rest when—

"Well… I'm coming over, Makuta."

Idiot.

As he walked down the wet, dreary hallway, Ekimu's heart sunk with dread. From what he heard, Makuta did not sound necessarily angry—just annoyed. Of course, this was better than cold hatred, but all the same…

Ekimu stopped in front of his brother—he almost tripped over him. Kneeling down, he rested a hand on Makuta's shoulder. The brother twitched in response, but otherwise didn't move.

"Makuta?" Ekimu said softly.

His brother groaned. "Gyuh 'way."

"No, I'm not going away any time soon," Ekimu replied, turning Makuta over so he was face-up. His face, incidentally, was covered in mud. "Here's your mask back. I truly am sorry about what I did earlier. Can you forgive me?"

Makuta's eyes flickered open for a second, glowing dim. He stared, eyes narrowed in confusion. "Whuh?"

Ekimu silently sighed. "Just put on the mask. I'll explain later." He handed the mask to Makuta, who lifted his hand for a second, then let it fall to the ground, eyes closed.

With a small sigh of pity, Ekimu began to wipe some mud off Makuta's face with his hand, to which Makuta himself made mumbled sounds of discomfort. Ekimu quietly told Makuta to stop making such a fuss, then put his mask on for him.

Makuta's eyes lit up, and he stirred. "That gave me a headache," he muttered, sitting up. "Still, I appreciate your help." He paused, and a confused expression came over him. "But what were you apologizing for?"

"You mean you forgive me?" Ekimu said, a feeling of hope rising inside him.

"No. Not yet, anyway." Makuta stood up, stumbling for a moment, but quickly righting himself. "What I meant was that you were rather vague in your apology. Why? What happened?"

Ekimu blinked. "You… don't remember? From a few hours ago?"

"No, and I won't any time soon unless you tell me what happened."

"Well… maybe it's better you don't remember." Ekimu put a hand on Makuta's shoulder and smiled. "It doesn't really matter, anyway."