Moana hasn't seen Gramma Tala for a week now. Part of that is because dad's doing his best to keep her occupied and busy enough during the day that it makes her too tired to think of anything else than sleeping during the evenings.

She still sees her in passing down at the shore past the flora, dancing with the ocean and sometimes the stingrays that visit her routinely.

Dad fitted her with Moni for some reason, told her that he's knowledgeable of stories long past from previous chief's of the village. That "it'd be good to know more of your heritage, Moana". Sometimes she listens to Moni ramble, sometimes she doesn't.

She never really clicked with any of the other kids her age, not really, and dad seemed to catch onto that. It was nice every once and while to be engaged with other kids her age, but it didn't really...fit. Not to say she didn't like them.

Like Moni — he was a nice, really chatty guy. Like really chatty.

—

(Okay, sometimes it was annoying.)

("—Maui, demigod of the wind and sea! He's like, so cool. My grandpa taught me all about him, said he cared about us — like, as in mankind as a whole, you know — so much that he brought islands up from beneath the ocean for us to find.")

(Moana stops admiring one of the illustrations on the tapa she was inspecting closely, turning to give Moni a curious look.)

(She'd heard of Maui. Gramma Tala usually mentioned the demigod's name whenever she'd preach to dad how someone from their village would have to set out beyond the reef one day to restore Te Fiti's heart whole once more.)

("Maui?" The name feels odd on her tongue.)

(Moni nodded excitedly, seeing the way Moana was finally paying attention and grasping onto it. "Oh, yeah!" He crawls across the floor in a rush to pull at one of the tapa sheets before flipping it and spreading it out more.)

(It's the exact same tapa Gramma Tala had shown her when she was barely able to walk. Maui, in all his greatness — the illustration a little crude but in a way that portrayed his power.)

(Moana thinks he looks a little full of himself, really.)

("—said he'd pulled our island out from the sea, too!" Moni was saying heartedly, smiling like the dork he was. "I wish I could see him. That'd be so awesome.")

(Moana nods absently, tracing a finger over the ink of Maui's figure. That'd be something, wouldn't it? Meeting a demigod.)

(One could dream.)

(Moni suddenly perks up, his next words rushed.)

("I know a way we could meet him, y'know," He says, voice dropping into a hushed whisper as though it wasn't obvious he was still being loud.)

(Moana stares at him, eyes narrowed. "What?")

(Moni glances around the room to make sure nobody was listening before leaning closer to Moana so that his mouth was right next to her ear.)

("My koro told me. Said he knew a place. But it's top secret... and forbidden... and we're not supposed to know about it." Moni was suddenly very solemn as he says this, as though he was imparting the deepest secret in the entire universe upon Moana.)

(Moana's brows furrow, and she's giving that look she unconsciously makes when she thinks someone's being stupid.)

(Moni's quiet for a moment, like he's contemplating something. But the silence doesn't last long for him. Because when he speaks again his voice was as eager and hushed as before.)

("There's a secret passage on the other side of the island, one that leads to an underground tunnel. And at the end of that tunnel — guess what you find?")

(Moana thinks for a little like Moni had been, glancing down at the tapa cloth holding Maui's image with his fish hook.)

(She looks back up with her mouth half-open before stuttering when she sees dad standing behind Moni. How'd he even get there without them hearing? He was more like Gramma Tala than he admitted to.)

(His eyes burned into the tapa cloth of Maui that Moni had been showing her so avidly.)

(Dad's hands were clenched tight behind his back, his expression a look that was stern yet also a mixture of several other emotions. Concern, worry, anger, disappointment, and what she would later realize to be fear.)

("Moni," He starts, his low voice almost like a command. He ignores the yelp Moni lets out when he turns around.)

("Chief!")

("I'd like to have a word with my daughter.")

(Moni glances between Moana and her dad— no, Chief Tui, before giving a hesitant nod. He's gone in seconds, leaving Moana to watch him disappear past the bamboo curtains.)

(The Chief's expression looked so tense that it might break the longer he stood there. But then he's tearing into her, words sharp with an anger that'd been boiling over the moment he'd overheard them when he was passing by.)

("I don't ever want you to go searching for that demigod, do you understand me? Never. The reef is dangerous enough as it is and those waters beyond it even more so.")

(Arguing with Dad was annoying, but arguing with the Chief was like talking to stone.)

("But Gramma Tala's stories—")

("Are stories!" He snapped.)

(Moana looked at him as if she was offended on Gramma Tala's behalf. "That doesn't mean they're not real!")

("That is the exact reason they aren't real, Moana," his voice breaks slightly, and now she could tell that she was talking to Dad instead of the Chief. "They are stories—fables and fairy tales. No one—no one is to go beyond the reef to find some... some trickster to- what? Save the world?")

("Why not?")

(He looks at her then, as if he's realizing something only he would, something that makes his nostrils flare and his eyes squeeze painfully. The anger in him seems to deflate at that moment, being faced with his daughter's unflinching persistence and the way she was scowling so deeply at him.)

(Gods help him.)

—

Later, one night, when Moana can't sleep and dad's snoring isn't doing her any favors, she can't help but spiral down into reflecting about random things.

She wonders what it's like being a demigod, how powerful it must feel.

And how lonely it must be, too. To live for thousands of years, and how fleeting being with other creatures must be.

Moana doesn't know how long pigs or chickens can live for, but she knows she'd be heartbroken if she were to ever lose Pua or Hei Hei and outlive them. Or Mom and Dad.

Gramma Tala...

She's been less active lately, Moana can't help but notice. Mom said it's part of getting old, and obviously it is, but it's...scary. In a way. A way she doesn't like thinking about too much.

Gramma Tala doesn't act like she's scared of dying, though. Even talks about how she'll come back as a manta ray and travel the seas.

Unrestrained.

Free.

Moana quite liked that idea.

The travelling the seas part. Not the dying part.

She wonders how Maui does it. Moana's gotten out of her first decade of life and then some — she can't ever imagine reaching a century. Let alone a millennium.

Maybe it's no wonder he went mad and stole Te Fiti's heart.

(Or maybe he strove too far for mankind's affection to feel wanted.)

—

*koro = grandfather, in that context (maori)