“Why do you insist on that over anything else you could choose?” asks Cahaya with a note of naïve concern. They’re not making eye contact; moments like these feel like they get ruined by constant staring. Haya’s question gets the immediate response of a pregnant silence as Suki focuses on his work. They understand his work habits, so while they don’t find it rude, they still find themselves feeling impatient anyway.

Sukarno smacks his lips as he finishes the stitches on one row and re-tightens the string with a smooth, rehearsed motion not unlike beginning a new line on a typewriter. “It’s called a loom,” Suki eventually responds once his mental real estate sees an opening for conversation. “Not just a thing. It’s my favorite tool... maybe even my favorite possession, depending on the day of the week. –That, or a piece of my handiwork. It’s important.” He thoughtfully massages the back of his neck as he examines his handiwork in progress. “So yeah, I make a point of keeping it closer than anything else I own because it was a present from my pops,” Suki tacks on in a knee-jerk postscript comment.

“Pops?” Cahaya sits up and glances in Suki’s direction. It’s clear from Haya’s intonation that they’re not entirely familiar with familial concepts.

“‘Pops’ is... my father, yeah.” Suki sighs, a breath taken both wistfully and fondly. “I wasn’t much of a fighter as a kid. I took free refuge in the arts, and my pops recognized it. I like to think he was proud of me for being capable of picking myself up after falling so hard.”

Silence. Tradewind breezes tickle the tall grass and gently rattle the leaves, the only sound in the space left while the two think in their shared, individualistic comfort.

“Wish that were me,” Cahaya pouts weakly. “Feels like I was robbed of something great, shit that everyone else was entitled to.” They idly twirl a finger through some clovers next to their seat, brushing up against dandelions daring to drift off any second now.

Sukarno laughs with an equally dry, frail lethargy. “I think we both wish we were in each other’s situations, here. Living up to expectations is downright scary, and being the youngest of four to boot? Oh, man, was the fight for recognition exhausting.” Beat. “I envy what you and Leif have.” Suki bites his lip and exhales. “Your bond’s real, forged in fire to come out as something truly special.”

Suki slowly glances to Haya to check for approval on such a touchy topic. At some point, they pulled their legs in and began staring off into the horizon.

Might’ve been a bad move. It’s getting cloudy now, swiftly threatening rain. Suki awkwardly turns away and returns to work. “I hope we find him soon.”

“You and me both,” Cahaya mumbles, shaking their hands. Their lips barely move; the sentence is barely audible. “You and me both.”