Whare Potae (The House of Mourning)

Chapter Nine

Author's Note:

You know that moment when you can't focus on your three/four legitimate paying jobs, because you're too distracted by a story that you're just itching to write? That's me, right now.

Therefore, I am going to see if I can get this chapter done during my three tiny work breaks today. Wish me luck, I'll need it.

PS: This just in, my previous computer is totally busted. Why? I typed so aggressively and with such emphatic purpose that I demolished my keyboard to the point of no return.

...I can't help it, I'm just an exuberant typist. It's my job.

...I have to try not to break the new one. I wonder, do they make reinforced keyboards for people who do a lot of writing/typing during the day? I'll have to find out.

Chapter Nine

Just as before, the seas were far, far calmer on the way back to Motunui than Moana had expected, almost as though the ocean had finished its business with her and was now occupied elsewhere.

The sea wasn't the only one being quiet, either. Maui hadn't spoken a word ever since they'd set out from the island, and it had probably been hours.

"Okay," Moana sighed, glancing at him over her shoulder, "what's wrong? Why are you being weird?"

"What?" Maui shrugged. "I'm not being weird."

"Yes," countered Moana, "you are. You're being...really quiet. It's freaking me out."

"That's not weird." Maui shook his head. "I can be quiet."

"Really." Moana raised an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah," returned Maui, "really. Moana, I have spent more years than you've been alive sitting by myself in several different inescapable prisons, with absolutely no one else to talk to. I am really good at being quiet, and literally centuries of practice has made me super comfortable with my own thoughts."

Moana didn't have an immediate response to that, and so they sailed on for a few minutes while she considered.

"Okay," she said, "then maybe it's not the silence. Maybe it's something else. There's...I don't know, some kind of weird, uh, aura? Anyway, something's obviously wrong. If you don't want to talk about it-!"

"It's your imagination," interrupted Maui. "Everything's fine."

Just the irritated monotone in Maui's voice made it clear to Moana that, no, everything was definitely not fine.

"Why," she asked "are you angry? Seriously? You don't have anything to be angry about. You got into a mess thousands of years ago because you decided that it would be a good idea to break Hine-nui-te-po's heart so you could be everyone's favorite 'trickster demigod,' and in the end I had to come rescue you, even though it was kind of out of my way and sort of contrary to my goals. Why the heck does that give YOU a right to be mad?"

Moana expected some backlash from Maui but, to her surprise, she didn't get it.

"It doesn't," he muttered. "It's got nothing to do with any of that. I already thanked you for coming to 'save me' if you want to put it that way, so let's...let's just drop it."

Moana rolled her eyes, but she let the matter go.

After all, she thought, people change, right? So, maybe this is normal. It's been a while, so maybe we just need to get used to each other...again. Yeah, that's probably it.

"Wait," said Maui suddenly. "You're really gonna drop it? Just like that? You're not gonna keep asking me what's wrong?"

"Huh?" Moana shook her head. She'd just realized something that had been bothering her ever since they'd left the island, something that didn't quite add up. Maui's comments a few moments ago had made it click in her head.