To Io, home was a concept he thought simple throughout his years of childhood. There was barely a difference between home and the rest of the world because he always felt like he belonged—except when his feet were not touching the ground, but as it is, that was a rare case—and perhaps this was all because the 'rest of his world' simply consisted of...his tiny village.
Was he, therefore, justified in his naïve and simplistic thinking?
That the world was so small, so limited, so compact in nature that it was all so easy to understand; barely anything more to be seen or uncovered because everything was already known and nothing uncertain—
"Are you listening?"
His gaze dropped to the lady who was speaking, seemingly at him for her eyes were practically fixed upon his blank stare, taking a moment to come back. "Yes...but, no. No, not really," the boy admitted with a smile that was sheepish and shy.
He was feeling a little nervous under her gaze, especially since his chest was bare and his skin was awfully chilled. Io was quietly grateful that she let him keep his pants on.
"I need you to lift your arms," her lips drew thin as she said so, as though it was the third time she had said this only to realize that he hadn't been listening earlier. "I can't take your measurements if you aren't cooperating you know—it doesn't work like that. Do you want your uniform or not?"
No he didn't. He didn't really, not now.
It had been an hour since Io was brought to the tailor's, an odd-looking, old-fashioned door beside the post that no one (not predators) seemed to notice except whenever they required some help with a torn sleeve or a shorter skirt. The latter was fairly popular. Io however, had come to have his new uniform made—tailored, as a matter of fact—to his tiny frame that reminded the nice (nice?) lady inside of a sparrow.
Specifically put however, the boy did not need to have his uniform tailored on normal occasions. In fact, the majority of predators didn't. So when he posed this peculiar occurrence to Professor Alfred, the council representative who (quite explicitly) bore a distaste for this particular student, he was rather pressured by the response.
"If you are, indeed, whatever they call you," was him being the moon phoenix really that hard to say? "Then you are one of the hearts—and every heart has their uniform custom made to their taste and preferences to ensure their comfort. We cater to our students very kindly."
Alfred had stated this stiffly without a second glance at the boy and it did nothing to help Io's building anxiety of the new and of change in general; which every other human found difficulty in embracing.
In fact, this unprecedented excursion to the tailor's in the predator dormitories (first thing in the morning!) was met with a highly disconcerting lurch in his gut—a sign that Io took to mean a turn in his fortune. If he ever had any in the first place. He felt, then, rather displaced and breaching the boundaries of his comfort zone that was critical, especially, in the day.
Luna would be sleeping.
"Alright. Turn around." He obliged.
"Can you stand a little straighter? No slouching." He did as told.
"No one's ever had a coat this short," He heard her mumbling to herself and thought that it wasn't exactly something meant for him to hear but the very volume and clarity of her murmurs laid out the truth that was in conflict with his thoughts. "Sticks."
Io wasn't quite sure as to what it meant but it seemed as though she was making a remark about his ankles. But how were ankles 'sticks'? He imagined that, but it was brief and didn't last very long.
"Am I—uh," He began with a tentative smile and tried to catch the tailor's eye. "Am I supposed to wear a coat? Is that part of my uniform?"
"Skies no," The tailor frowned with a scoff. "Of course not."
The boy frowned, a little confused but not exactly voicing his sentiments. Lyra flitted around warily, trying to get a glimpse of the tailor from different angles. She found it rather strange that humans were fond of using such odd instruments to measure the size or length of any particular object. Were eyes not sufficient?
Io told her that it was for the sake of accuracy and had she merely used her eyes to gauge the length of his arms and the width of his shoulders, it would have made little difference from getting a pre-made uniform.
"What's the coat for?" He asked as the tailor scribbled something on her notepad. "Will it be compulsory attire? Am I supposed to wear it in class?"
Her gaze snapped away from the paper to express a distaste for interruptions. Io apologized sheepishly.
"You seem unaware that the weather here on the island doesn't add up. Who knows? It might snow tomorrow and you'll freeze to death—not that I care, really." Io flinched at her blunt statement, shuffling aside while certain adjustments were made to the temporary shirt he was made to put on. "Buttons or zips?"
"Sorry?"
The tailor turned to him with a frown. "Buttons or zips? Hood, or no? I'm talking about your coat, boy."
Oh. Io hardly understood what she was asking for and felt inclined to clarify where, exactly, the buttons or the zips were going and if she was referring to the pockets of his coat or the middle portion and if him saying 'buttons' would also mean that his pants would have them too. "Zips...? I guess." They were more convenient. Or at least for his part.
"Hood?"
The prospect of having a hood on a snowy day was indeed pleasing.
"Alright. And yes, by the way, you are required to wear it in the campus. Hearts should be easily identified, as I stand." There was an inkling of the tailor's reasoning that seeped into Io's cage in which he accepted tentatively. He fairly understood where she was coming from but was, at the same time, rather unable to put a finger on its exact location.
She could have meant as Hearts, the highest tier of predators, they posed the greatest danger to everyone else and should be avoided at all costs; or she could have also very well meant that they should be highly respected, and acknowledged without a mistake.
Io however, found the idea of him wearing a coat (those that he'd often seen Vaughn wearing) perfectly ridiculous. Just because Vaughn could pull it off didn't mean he could. So did Luka—well, perhaps he wasn't the best judge, seeing that it was merely once that he had spotted Luka in the school coat. Apparently, height was the decisive factor.
"Right..." the tailor disappeared into the storage room and her voice was muffled for a brief moment.
"Sorry," Io paused outside the door, "did you say something?"
She emerged from the storage with three sets of uniform. "I said that you were lucky. Apparently, there's another predator who's as puny as you are." Io felt slightly miffed by her dismissive statement, but accepted the uniform that he realized did not have a size label.
"I've taken his measurements once—exactly the same as yours. Thank skies I don't have to make them again," she tossed a red tie atop the pile. "Oh yes, your coat will be done by Friday. You will be notified by Avian but just keep a lookout, right?"
The boy nodded, trying his best to fit the clothes into his arms. "Thank you Miss."
"Hm. Are you sure you're eating right? Protein; you've got to get some of that into your body or you'll never grow." The tailor showed Io out of her workspace and shook her head as she gave him a final one-down.
"I'll try Miss," He smiled sheepishly, wondering just how he could break it to her that protein no longer appealed to his taste buds the moment he stepped into the school. It simply wasn't an option—the mere thought of beef and fat revolted his appetite and gave his stomach a good flip. The table for prey consisted only of vegetarian food.
Io didn't particularly mind. Sunflower seeds were his favorite. Oh, and potatoes.
_____________________________
Luka was in the middle of class when noticed his lack of appetite as of late.
The quiet mind had yet to register that perhaps this had translated into a different form of an appetite—an appetite that would not be sated by grilled chicken, pan-fried salmon, black pepper steak or any sort of meal, for the matter.
The meal he was looking for came in the form of figures (not that he was aware); and the very first manifestation of his bizarre hunger came in the form of a slow, warm breeze that brushed against the cool surface of his arm, conjuring the strangest image of a woman by his arm.
He blinked, turning slowly.
Of course, the very prospect was impossible—he was in the middle of class, listening to the woodpecker drill holes into the side of his head whilst hammering on about the first Avian war and yet.
Yet it seemed to Luka so, so real.
It was the heat of the day—it must have been. Just the heat.
His gaze returned to the text on his desk, laid open to page three-hundred-ninety-four. The words did not swim, no; they seemed to nestle closer to one another, creating the impression of a threesome, or of a four—no, many more, they converged to form words that were, in fact, not there.
He misread 'set'.
Indeed, there was absolutely no chance, not in a million years, that the founder of Flight School had sex-sailed to the Bermuda in search for the place rumored to be beneath the waters. No, there wasn't.
This vague mind that crossed between the idea of entertaining a newfound definition of sailing and the boring realities of history class belonged surprisingly to the golden eagle who, all of a sudden, found an urge to pay a visit to Io's homeroom after the bell. Surely, there had to be a reason for the disorder in his mind.
Yes. He needed a distraction.
*
"Io?"
The boy turned upon hearing his name, a little startled that anyone from the predator's block would pay attention to a lone figure standing by the stairs, waiting for his friend. "Uh, I didn't mean to—oh!" He was pleased to take in the phoenix who was climbing the stairs from one floor below. "Jing!"
She returned his greeting with a mildly astonished gaze. "What are you doing here?" Io caught a hint of concern underneath her tone that appeared indifferent. "The bell will ring in a minute."
"I'm waiting for Luka," he replied in quiet anticipation. "It's supposed to be a surprise—he doesn't know that I came to take my measurements. I dropped by because it was close."
Jing stared at the boy before her who had a positive spark in his eyes, and couldn't help but make an offhanded remark regarding his statement.
"Are you sure it's not because you want to see him?"
Io paused to register the question and felt his ears burn promptly. "That—well, um..."
The bell went off, and Io found himself saved. "I have to go!"
"Wait," Jing stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "This isn't the right floor. Third years have their classes on the floor above." Lyra chirped in exasperation, glancing coldly in Io's direction. The latter found it hard to prevent his jaw from dropping and soon realized that this would account for the lack of students in the hallway. Had he really been waiting outside an empty classroom?
"No way," he was far too embarrassed to confirm this. Io began to wonder why he hadn't looked in the first place. "I—that was. I'll just...go now."
The phoenix observed an unseen excitement in his eyes, allowing herself to remain quiet as she did so.
"Have fun," she called after him, but he didn't hear her over the growing chatter of students streaming out of their classrooms on the floor above.
_____________________________
He couldn't find him.
There were a total of three luxurious classrooms—furnished with mahogany tables spaced wide apart (that were placed in front of cushioned chairs); decked with warmer lights simply because having windows that stretched from the floor to the ceiling wasn't enough; completed with a bar at the back of the class—on the fourth floor and all of them were already half-empty by the time Io got to searching.
"Hey, 's that...?"
"Yeah. What's he doing here?"
Io heard all that whispering, murmuring behind his back and was about to turn around and inform the speakers that he could, actually, hear whatever they were saying but a tap on his shoulder stopped him from doing so.
"You're that sparrow!" He was faced with a full-on beam that seemed to blind his vision—just for a moment—before it returned with a fair recognition and dulled everything in comparison. It was a familiar face.
"I am sparrow, yes," came his intelligent response which was partly (or mostly) due to the fact that Io had not considered the prospect of someone other than Luka talking to him in the predator's wing. "I mean I'm him."
Dmitri blinked.
"Yes—just, yes. I'm the sparrow that you were referring to, was what I meant," Io clarified after clearing his throat awkwardly. "Uh I was just..."
"What're you doing here? Everyone's looking at you," the falcon laughed, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. "I thought you hated predators or something."
Immediately, this served to confuse Io further. Just where did this falcon get his ideas from? And did everyone see him in such a light?
"Wa—I think there's some sort of misunderstanding here..." He began carefully. "I've never said that anything like that."
"Sure, but the way V talks about you it's like you're Satan's spawn or something," he cracked up without sparing Io any face. "Everyone thinks you're dangerous as fuck. Plus the...white hair and stuff. Wait—where's it now?"
Io was fully aware that every second spent talking to Dmitri would mean losing track of Luka's whereabouts or that he would sooner or later have to give up his plans of having lunch together (their very first) and retreat instead to his room defeated. Just when he wanted to introduce Pipa to him.
"I um, the white hair thing," Io gestured to his locks that were currently brown. "It only happens at night. I think."
Dmitri's mouth shaped into an astounding 'o'. "Dude, I'd kill to have that sort of thing."
No he wouldn't, Io thought immediately, but refrained from voicing his opinion. It was mostly a figure of speech—he figured.
"Oh. Thanks...? I guess. Um, have you seen Luka?" He got straight to the point. Might as well.
"So that's why you were hanging here," the falcon's eyes lit up slightly. "You were waiting for him. Right, why didn't I think of that? You guys kinda...unofficial prey-and-predator-friend, thing?"
"What's an official friend?" Io blinked in response. "Does friendship need officiality?"
Dmitri paused with a half-frown. "What?"
"No, but..." He hadn't really thought of that. In fact, the falcon rarely thought much of what he said at all; since he so naturally assumed that no one took anything that seriously.
They were words—and that was all they were, and would be. Nothing more.
"So have you seen him?" Io carried on, surveying the hallway that was littered with students but feeling slightly crestfallen that none of them resembled the golden eagle he knew.
"Nah, he went straight off at the bell. Probably shifted by the stairs and took off or something." Io was barely listening by the time Dmitri had finished his statement. He was feeling a little let down by his hopes of having lunch with Luka, but it wasn't just enough to make him give everything away.
"Oh that's okay. Do you think he's gone to the dining hall?"
"Er, no but—"
His shoulders sank. "Guess I'll go find him somewhere else then," Io waved as he turned in the direction he came from, before halting by the stairs and turning back to the falcon. "Thanks by the way! Um."
"Ford. Dmitri." The other, still slightly awed by Io's strange energy and mannerisms stood stiffly by the open door of Luka's classroom, arms crossed.
Io laughed. "You have the same last name as Nash!"
Dmitri had absolutely no idea who that was but the sparrow didn't exactly give him the time to ask either.
"Alright, thanks again Dmitri!" He said with a final wave before disappearing around the corner, leaving the falcon with several curious stares from his classmates.
*
Luka's presence was never really so invisible as one would typically assume—since, after all, he barely says a word and almost never provides an opinion on any matter whether or not he felt strongly against it—and the current situation would serve perfectly well to demonstrate such a quality.
He stopped in front of a robin who had dropped her planner and was about to pick it up for her when she snatched it away and scrambled to the side with her head bowed low. The eagle stared.
It wasn't that he looked particularly intimidating; no, Luka wasn't that sort in any way but perhaps it was his current mood that impressed upon third parties a fairly unfriendly disposition which differed from his usual case. Cold, and a little sleepy.
But not intimidating.
"Do you think the professor would accept an extension?"
"No of course not he's a twit—oh!" A pair of lovebirds emerged from a class which Luka was passing by and it was merely a coincidence that one of them stopped short of bumping into the eagle's side. She let out a high-pitched squeak of surprise which, in turn, surprised Luka and Victoria as well but they were allowed no response because the lovebirds apologized in unison and retreated back into the classroom they had intended to leave.
Fairly amused, Luka proceeded on. He was however, beginning to feel as though he might never find Io in the massive crowds of prey that filled the hallways.
There were simply too many of them—too many classes as well and the atmosphere here differed significantly from that of the predator's block. Noise was everywhere and there was something disorderly about it.
Despite the numbers that were in major disproportion to the awfully narrow corridors, the seemingly repelling force that aided Luka in his search for Io was welcome as the sea of prey simply parted as he came through, making his walk down the hallway rather pleasant since there was absolutely no jostling.
Of course, they were trying not to stare; understanding the eagle's right to privacy but at the same time far too curious and surprised by the arrival (or intrusion) of a predator in their grounds that they couldn't help but whisper.
What manners! Victoria mused privately. Nicely done. How is it that we've never bothered to come here before? I feel royal already!
Ignoring the offhanded remark from his Avian, Luka knew that this was taking far too long and by the time he found Io (if he did, to be precise) lunchtime would be long over.
The eagle felt an uneasy jolt in his cage and a brief stirring of an appetite that had been sleeping for months but carefully brushed it aside. Replacing the confusion with a simple mind, Luka focused on his task at hand and it was finding his friend.
"Eei'msosorry!" Squeaked another and Luka would have bothered if he could actually tell what was going on since there were just too many people around him and so many things happening at once.
Oh my. A storm petrel! He looks awfully familiar.
Luka identified him as Io's class president, a good-natured Indian boy who often came up in their conversations whenever Io shared a pun or two. Vijay was particularly good at them.
"Hey," the eagle began rather quietly to avoid attention but all of a sudden the hallway was a graveyard and everything was void.
Prey stopped to stare.
Vijay froze and wouldn't meet his eye. "Ohmygod—me?"
The eagle took a step back to give him some space while Victoria laughed at the back of his mind. "Yes. Have you seen Io?"
"Io?" There was a brief spark of recognition in the storm petrel's eyes but they soon dulled upon meeting Luka's gaze. Vijay looked away quickly. "Uh, yes of course!" He paused.
"Wait I mean, no. That was yesterday. Ah," he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh, I remember now! He doesn't have class today. I think. If I'm not wrong."
Luka blinked. "He didn't tell me."
Vijay swallowed, looking positively scared by this point.
"H-He didn't? Oh then maybe I was wrong uh, I...I really don't know you see, maybe you should check out the dorms? I didn't see him this morning so."
"I've checked there."
Blood drained from his face. "Ah! Is...is that so, uh. How about the infirmary? Pipa is getting discharged today and he said something about the..."
"Thanks," was all the warning Vijay ever got before the predator shifted into his Avian—in the middle of the hallway for skies' sake!—and took to the infirmary. Surely this newfound audacity, foolish and reckless, stood miles apart from the Luka that Io had described to Vijay, the calm and collected predator that seemed to always listen and understand from an objective point of view, and had Luka known or noticed, he would have admitted as well.
Today, he was different.
But how so?
It was the heat.
Just the heat.
__________________________
A/N: Ah! I've missed you terribly. How have you been? ;-; I'm so sorry for the short update, and slow for the matter, because November is my month of exams (MY 'A' LEVELS. FINALLY. NO MORE EXAMS EVER AGAIN ok not until college but ok) and its ending next week! From 23rd November onwards, I'll be back to weekly (or maybe even twice a week!) updates for Flight School, and I hope you will enjoy the journey for this second book in which we all (I certainly hope!) anticipate :x I will, of course, update Crash and Beyond Love as well! ^^ hehe Cuppie is so excited.
Meanwhile, we all know what's going on in Luka's head.
It's the heat guys ;) isn't the weather just awfully scorching? (sarcasm at its best)
See you in a week <3
-Cuppiecake.