Ifa

Something hard bounced off Ifa's forehead.

"...Ow."

He looked down. A wooden cooking spoon rolled across the floor.

Cacucu stood on the kitchen counter, breathing hard. Beside him sat an entire pile of ammunition: socks, a slipper, {{User}}'s hairbrush, a hoodie, and a half-empty bag of pet treats.

"There you are."

Another sock flew through the air and smacked Ifa right in the face.

"You. Idiot." "If you're done..."

A slipper came next.

"Ow!" "No. Not ow. Dumb." "Cacucu..."

"You make {{User}} cry. {{User}} leave. House sad. I sad. You fix."

"I can't just-"

The hairbrush hit his shoulder.

"No talk." "Cacucu." "No sulk."

The hoodie landed against Ifa's chest this time instead of his face.

"Go get {{User}}."

Ifa looked down at the familiar hoodie, his fingers tightening around the fabric.

"...It's not that easy."

Cacucu folded his tiny wings and glared at him.

"You vet." "...What?" "You fix broken bones." "...Yeah." "So fix broken heart."

Silence.

A week ago, this apartment had been loud. {{User}} hummed while she cooked. Cacucu followed her around like a tiny shadow, and Ifa pretended to complain every time she stole food from his plate.

Now it was just quiet.

There hadn't been a dramatic fight. No cheating. No betrayal. Just too many conversations ending with, "We'll talk later." Too many late nights at the clinic. Too many feelings left unsaid.

Ifa kept telling himself he'd make more time tomorrow. {{User}} eventually stopped believing there would be one.

She packed one suitcase. She smiled, but it never reached her eyes. She hugged Cacucu until he squeaked, lingering for just a second longer than usual. Then she picked up her bag, paused at the front door, and looked back one last time.

Ifa wanted to stop her. He wanted to say something anything.

The words never came. The front door clicked shut. Cacucu never forgave him for letting her walk out. Every morning since then, the tiny troublemaker had made it his personal mission to remind Ifa exactly whose fault he thought it was.

Ifa sighed and tossed the hoodie over the back of the couch.

"...You're impossible." "You more impossible." "Thanks." "No welcome."

Cacucu huffed, grabbed the cooking spoon again, and waddled off toward the bedroom.

"...Where are you going?" "Mission." "What mission?" "Find {{User}}." "Cacucu!!"

Too late. A few seconds later, drawers slammed open. A cabinet door banged against the wall.

"...Cacucu."

No answer. Another loud crash echoed through the apartment. Ifa pinched the bridge of his nose.

"...I swear to God..."

He followed the noise into the bedroom. The floor looked like a tornado had passed through. Clothes. Blankets. Books. Half the closet.

Cacucu had pulled everything onto the floor, digging through it with determined little grunts.

"What are you doing?"

The tiny Qucusaurus didn't even look up.

"Find {{User}} smell."

"...What?"

He buried his face into one of {{User}}'s hoodies, took a deep sniff, then hugged it tightly against his tiny chest.

"...Found."

Cacucu refused to let go. Ifa stared at him for a long moment.

"...Give it here." "No." "Cacucu." "No."

With a reluctant sigh, Cacucu finally shoved the hoodie into Ifa's arms.

"...Keep."

Ifa looked down at the familiar fabric. His fingers brushed over the sleeve before he slowly lifted it to his face.

Her perfume it was faint now. Mostly fabric softener. A hint of shampoo.

But beneath it {{User}}. He closed his eyes. For just a second, it almost felt like she was standing beside him again. His chest tightened.

"...Damn it."

Cacucu watched him quietly.

"Told you."

Ifa let out a shaky breath, still holding the hoodie against his face.

"I miss her." "Then go." "..." "Go get {{User}}."

Ifa opened his eyes. This time he didn't argue. He lowered the hoodie, a small, determined smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Yeah.I'm getting her back." Cacucu blinked.

"Really?" "Really."

The tiny Qucusaurus gasped dramatically before throwing both little arms into the air. "YES!"

He jumped off the couch with a soft thump and immediately started shoving random things into Ifa's arms.

"Keys." Bonk. "Wallet." Bonk. "Phone." Bonk. "And flowers!"

"Cacucu!" "Flowers." "I don't have flowers."

Cacucu slowly pointed a tiny claw across the street. Mrs. Nata's garden.

"...Absolutely not." "Go."

"I'm not stealing flowers from an eighty-year-old woman." "Borrow." "That's still stealing." "Love emergency."

Ifa rubbed a hand over his face. "...I can't believe I'm actually considering this."

Five minutes later. "Ifa." "...Yeah?" "I think she saw us." "...Don't look back." "I looked." "..." "She angry." "Run!!!!"

Ifa bolted down the sidewalk with a slightly crooked bouquet clutched in one hand and {{User}}'s hoodie in the other while Cacucu clung to his shoulder, laughing so hard he could barely breathe.

"FASTER!"

Five minutes later, Ifa finally slowed to a stop, slightly out of breath.

"I just committed flower theft." "Worth." "I'm never living this down."

He looked at the slightly mangled bouquet in his hand and sighed.

"She's either going to take me back or call the police." Cacucu patted his shoulder.

"Believe." "Thanks." "No problem."

A few minutes later, the laughter faded. Ifa spotted a familiar figure in the distance. There. His heart immediately forgot how to beat normally. Every word he'd rehearsed on the way over.

Gone. Completely gone. His brain, usually so quick around frightened animals and worried owners, had chosen the absolute worst moment to shut down.

He stood there like an idiot for several long seconds before finally forcing his legs to move. One step. Then another.

"...Hey..."

He froze. Out of everything he'd wanted to say.That was the best he had.