Flight School: Predator

Looking through the dark for a light

"He was mean," said Pipa with a frown, slurping instant ramen as she did so. "And scary."

Io had to agree. The pair had been lamenting over the encounter for the past thirty minutes while they made their way back to the prey's dormitories. Lunch was over and they had to settle with these canned and instant food products that the school had provided for Pipa during her heat, while she was to remain locked in her room.

"I wonder who he is," was all the sparrow had to say. "I've never seen a vulture that size. And I thought Miss V was large."

Pipa laughed, bringing the plastic cup to her lips for a taste of the soup.

Outside, the storm prevailed with a roar—leaving the sky rather dispirited still and the sun...nowhere in sight. How this seemed to have lasted for the majority of the day, Io did not know but felt unfortunate to say the least. He had been looking forward to Luka.

To Luka? Was that even possible; looking forward to a person and not the meeting itself?

The day was about to end. He could tell by the look of the sky, the sun that was about to set. Iolani Tori felt the slow pity of an end settle in his cage, much like a tiny boat that sank beneath the surface—drowned by the waves and drawn by the comfort of a bed below the waters. It settled there. Still.

It was a Friday. A Friday. Tomorrow, it would be...and it was at this that he remembered something else. It surfaced at the back of his mind much like a wooden plank on water—drifting.

He had forgotten to collect his tailored uniform.

"Oh," was all he said, lowering his fork.

"What?" Pipa blinked, watching the boy gaze pensively at the cup of noodles in his other hand. "What is it?"

Io glanced at the clock on her bedside table. "Uh. I...kinda forgot something."

"What?" She repeated, anxious all of a sudden. The canary placed her utensils on the table and straightened her back—all ears.

"Oh no it's nothing, really..."

"Just say it."

"They made me a new uniform. Tailored. Actually," the sparrow explained. "I was supposed to pick it up today, at the predator's dormitories."

Immediately, his friend was telling him to go. "Then, go!" She looked at him as though he was being absurd. "What are you waiting for? I heard the tailor's a nightmare. You shouldn't keep her waiting."

"Alright, alright," Io laughed, rising from the wooden chair Pipa kept in a corner of her room. She shared it with a finch. Come to think of it, Io hadn't heard much about her roommate. "I didn't want to leave you alone."

It was a strange thing to say.

Not that it was something he shouldn't have, but those words...they were meant to be kept within a cage for they could wound as much as they could heal. Perhaps they stemmed from the forgotten abyss that both had made an effort to veil under happy jokes and careless laughter—the time of darkness that they, as friends, had experienced together like a severing of ties that was meant to be fixed but wasn't.

The last thing he wanted was for her to leave again.

And perhaps to ensure that it wouldn't happen, Io vowed that he wouldn't leave her. But was that the first step towards an abyss? Well, the sparrow did not know. The will and attempt was one but the end—another. There was no telling the future.