A/N: Very long chapter. Oh well, at least its Christmas :>
*
The prey's common room was in a flurry the very next morning, creating a fervent buzz that woke even the Nocturne who had slept in despite the news of baked potatoes for breakfast. Iolani Tori was rubbing his eyes with a yawn as he entered the common room, dressed casually for his day that was technically free of lessons. Flight practicals had been shifted to the following week, seeing that the boy's Avian had yet to be confirmed and none of the staff wanted much to do with a boy who asked far too many queries and questioned every single part of the system.
"Io!"
The sparrow gazed through half-lidded eyes.
"Hi everyone..." he responded vaguely, hugging his knees close. A chill hung in the air despite the crackle of flames coming from the fireplace. "Why is everyone talking so loudly?"
Vijay pursed his lips. "It's almost time for our first period Io. Everyone's awake and talking," he shook his head. "That's not the point though—it's the three!"
"What three?" Io frowned, confused. He wanted some hot cocoa.
"You know, the three," Vijay turned to Nash (who sighed bitterly) before attempting to explain what he meant. "Those who were locked up."
"Locked up?" Io sat up, eyes wider. He, too, looked to Nash for answers.
"Yeah," the storm petrel nodded. "Nash was just...you know, talking about it over breakfast. What they did when he was in heat."
Confusion nestled in his cage with a delightful chirp, roosting in the anxious heart. "Slow down. What exactly are we talking about right now; heat? Or...the people who were locked up? And what do you mean by that—in what form? How? There's no prison in school, is there? I mean, I hope not."
Vijay shook his head at every turn. "No, no we're talking about both. It's related! Wait, I thought everything in the world was. My mom always said that."
"Wait, but how?"
Nash held up a hand and got between the two. He couldn't stand seeing two first years talk about something they knew completely nothing about. "Look, Io. For someone who thinks so much, I'm surprised you didn't know about all this."
About what? This frustrated him immensely. Sure, he was fond of looking within but that didn't necessarily mean that he knew everything.
The mynah sighed. "Prey are locked in their rooms during heat. Yeah I suppose you wouldn't know," Nash scoffed. "You were busy with other stuff all along. I doubt it'd manner to you." But Io was no longer listening as he rose from his seat and drew towards the door, wondering where Pipa was.
*
Io wasn't quite sure if he was allowed into the girls' dormitories. For all he knew, this was absolutely forbidden and yet, as he passed the many individuals on his way to Pipa's room, they never said a word.
"Morning!" A slight girl with dark eyes and olive skin waved as he ascended the stairs to the correct floor. Startled, Io wasn't able to respond accordingly. His mind—distract and still drunk with sleep—lingered upon the words that intruded upon his heart. Lock was strong. Did they really? Do they? And why? The act was one thing; its reasons, another. Reasons were as important, if not more important than the act itself for it served as a line of justification.
But did justification by itself necessarily warrant the right of an action? Was that all one needed to determine what was right or wrong? These were his thoughts as he stood before Pipa's door, fearing the knock, and fearing the truth. He raised a hand to knock on her door, then retreated—only to raise it again and freeze there, for action seemed thoroughly disabled.
Just then, a flap in the door opened. An aluminium tray slipped out from it and knocked into the sparrow's knees before landing on his foot. It hurt.
"Wha—"
A frightened yelp came from behind the door and the flap was re-opened. "I-is someone there?"
"Pipa?"
His best friend paused before breaking out in laughter. "Gosh! Io, it's you—I thought it was someone else...I'm so sorry, did the tray hit your knees?" She said between moments of mirth. "I thought you were a cat!"
"There are no cats in the dorm Pipa," Io sat in front of her door and crossed his legs. "Are you alright? Why did you have a tray in the first place?"
The short scuffling and sounds of things bumping against the door told the sparrow that his friend was having a hard time adjusting her wheelchair to fit the front entrance of her dorm.
"Oh, well," there was a strangely appetising aroma coming from the gap in which they were speaking through. It smelled like roasted macadamias. "I had breakfast in my room, so. And I'm sorry I can't accompany you to class today. What happened yesterday? You haven't told me about homeroom and the scary professor that Jane was talking about."
Io laughed and told her that the scary professor was, in fact, not scary at all and merely strict regarding their behaviour. Faustes was particularly apt at reminding his students that as much as they did not want to be stuck in class, teachers had similar sentiments as well. "
"He hates it when we waste his time."
"Oh! That doesn't sound too bad," he heard a grin in her voice. "A-anyway—"
"You're not telling me something," Io pointed out without hesitation. He didn't feel like there was anything to hide when he spoke to Pipa. "What's wrong?"
Pipa was quiet; her silence egged him on.
"You don't even have to apologize for not coming with me to class. I don't have classes today, but you do, so why are you still in your room?" He was waiting for her to say it. Io felt terrible that he was forcing the words out of her will but it was, for all intents and purposes, necessary for him to hear it and ask. There were no secrets between them.
"I...well, I can't go out you see." Io nodded even though she couldn't see.
"Why?"
"I'm in heat."
"And?"
The canary swallowed carefully, tightening her grip on the armrests of her wheelchair. "And they locked me in my room. That's all, really—"
No it wasn't! It wasn't at all. It wasn't all. "No but Pipa," Io placed the tray aside and shifted closer to the flap, "haven't you thought about it at all? About why they decide to put you in your room for days?"
"Of course I have!" His friend snapped desperately, triggered by his implying that she had submitted entirely to the decision, fully dependent on the events happening around her without individual agency. "Of course I have, why wouldn't I? I'm the one being locked in my room Io, not you."
At this, a dull realization hit the sparrow and he found that he would, one day, have to be restrained in his room as well. But surely, there must be more to that since he was both a prey and predator? He mustn't overthink. The fear of being left to nothing but four walls and a mind—no. It was too great to conceive.
It was like prison.
"I'm sorry Pipa," Io said after the silence of thought. "I...that was. A bad way of putting it. I shouldn't have said it like that."
She was still upset. His words had hurt her quite a bit, after all. "It's alright. I'm sorry for snapping like that, it's just...I'm not feeling very well now. But, well, that's just an excuse so..."
Until now, Iolani Tori had thought only animals were locked up in cages. The idea of putting bad people behind bars sounded to him strangely foreign all of a sudden; certainly, the purpose of this was to make the remaining world—the one that was free—a better place? Or was it to punish those who had done bad, leave them to the horrors of their mind to repent and reform...to correct and to change?
What was it? Could it be that it was both?
This, he tried extending to Pipa's case. He then realized that it was unimaginable. No one could possibly think that locking those in heat (prey, specifically) would render the remaining that were free better off in any manner. It implied that those locked up were dangerous—as though lethal to the rest of humanity. And why should they be punished at all? As far as Iolani was aware, Pipa had done nothing wrong.
And so why was she locked up?
WHY?
That was the true question that Io intended to ask;
Only to word it wrongly and upset his dear friend
In the end.
__________________________
The sparrow was fortunate enough to bump into Luka on his way to lunch after yet another gruelling hour spent standing in front of an empty mirror. It was useless trying to practice during the day when Luna wasn't around. Absolutely nothing was reflected in it and Io himself had done quite enough reflecting for the day but just when he thought it all sufficient and overly-done, more reflection was due in the form of the world independent of his existence.
He was about to call out to his friend when he noticed, all of a sudden, that the latter was surrounded by quite a handful of people. Naturally, Io understood that Luka was no people-person or extrovert in any manner and thus found this rather bizarre.
Or perhaps unknown to his mind, the sparrow was simply confused by the uneasy twist of his cage—the workings of a green-eyed monster hidden within that had led him to perceive Luka's behaviour to be strange instead of his own.
Io retreated out of sight and watched as the group (consisting of both male and female students) passed him, unnoticed. Very much due to his point of view and focal point of his gaze, Io thought he saw something that he should not have seen.
Luka was smiling; a smirk so confident and charming, it appeared far from anything impassive.4
He felt fairly uncomfortable for the next hour. Lyra was unusually quiet. Nothing lifted his spirits; not the mashed potatoes that Vijay saved specifically for him; or the hot cocoa that Rhea Caisley had made with extra marshmallows; not even when Nash handed him a bored cookie. Nash never shared his cookies.
It was then that the boy realized the weight of his mind and its core influence on his perception of the world—everything was crumbling because he was; inside. And to expect one to rebuild everything on his own! Alas, it was no easy task for a human so affected. Io worked to recover the sunken spirit from its depths, knowing that there was a world that lived independently of his loss and sadness.
But what had he been upset about in the first place? There was no pin-pointing. This wasn't a sort of sadness that could be placed on one thing alone, it was many things that amounted, accumulated, and weighed upon his tiny shoulders one by one. It was no longer disappointment or sadness; it was loss and exhaustion.
Io was tired.
Regardless, the world expected him to get on with it; to move on and let go—let be. He would have to walk alone, get on without Pipa for some time, at least. Let go of the smile that Luka wore, one that he had never...seen before.
*
The last thing he expected was Faustes interrupting his mini-introspection in practice hall two, sitting cross-legged before the gigantic mirror and talking quietly to himself. He turned abruptly when the door opened, causing his back to produce a disturbing crack.
"Sir! Um, ow," he rubbed his lower back while rising clumsily from his position, "do you need to use the hall? Hold on, I'll just get down—"
"Nah it's not that," the professor dismissed with a shake of his head, gesturing for the boy to return to whatever he was doing. "Came to check on how you were doing. By the way, do you have some time before dinner?" Faustes let the door close by itself with a weighted clang. "The period before that."
Io reluctantly admitted that he had no classes for today, due to the fact that the administrative office had cancelled all his classes for the time being. "Is there something else I have to do? Sir."
"I was talking to your class president—"
Vijay?
"Jane," the deputy headmaster corrected, seeming to have read the confusion on his face for Io was quite sure Vijay had little to do with professor Faustes. "I'm referring to your predator class, Tori."
"Ah," he nodded shortly in response.
"For some reason, she has little to no doubt that you are what you say you are. She thinks you're speaking the truth; and no, it's not that I don't, Tori. I just don't have the confidence that she has in you," he laid bluntly. "Well apparently, she's not the only one."
Io blinked. "Oh."
"Hm. I arranged for you to be put in some predator classes already so that you wouldn't have to take long to catch up with those in your year. Saves me the trouble of doing it later," Faustes sighed. "Just in case you do, by some happy miracle, pass the council's expectations."
The sparrow was about to express his thanks when Faustes held up a hand to stop him.
"Just doing my shit job."
"So be at J47 before the period starts. It's Miss Tenner's class, so you'd probably like it."
Faustes was right.
"What class is it sir?" J was one of the predator's blocks. He never had a class there. "Do I have to bring anything?"
"An extra-curricular thing. Has nothing to do with your syllabus, but it's a start. Everyone has to attend something and this is the only slot they have for...you. It's weird being diurnal and nocturnal—just when do you sleep?" Faustes frowned, as though describing something absurd. "Right. I have places to be so if you don't mind," the professor excused himself, leaving the way he came in.
__________________________
Vaughn flashed a pleasant smile at a passing starling, perpetually terrifying the latter prey. She had been descending a flight of stairs in the main building quite alone when she met the vulture who was going in the opposite direction. Immediately upon the scarring smile, she turned tail and walked in a direction that differed greatly from her initial destination, leaving the stairs completely empty and free of nuisances.
Indeed, it could be said that Vaughn absolutely adored smiling at prey. The act yielded an awful satisfaction from the results it saw, allowing the vulture to deem it as the most effortless and effective way to rid of unnecessary people.
Little did he know that his very presence already served as a perfect form of repel; that smiling was already a waste of his energy.
Early as usual, the predator arrived at the classroom fifteen minutes before the start of Miss Tenner's lesson. Out of habit really; nothing as fancy as manners or courtesy—Vaughn was naturally punctual. It was in his nature.
He took his usual seat at the back of the class and stared out of the window quietly. The setting sun...it wasn't really to his taste. Vaughn turned away from the sunlight that filtered through and blinded his eyes, focusing instead on the empty blackboard that would be, soon, filled with words that made little sense to the vulture. Philosophy to him, was absurd. He found the subject ridiculous in its pursuit; that there was, really, no point in thinking or overthinking, in this case.
It did not—in any way—benefit him.
Several students began shuffling into the classroom—one by one, filling the tables at the back first and of course...no one graced the empty seat beside him. J47 was one of the rare classrooms that had double tables. Inseparable ones. The mahogany desk was far too long for just one person's occupation, and some clever member of the logistics team decided that assigning two chairs to a desk so huge would not be a problem in the least.
Vaughn however, had the privilege of this luxurious table (and space) all to himself. For the past few months, it had been so. A dark cloud with a silver lining, then. At least that was what he told himself.
He was keeping his eyes to himself and minding his own business—taking care of his thoughts and emotions, showering the former with mindful cynicism while crushing the latter under the weight of a careless machine tearing through the vulnerable garden that was his heart—when someone, someone small and insignificant, disrupted his stirring darkness.
Iolani Tori entered the class in a tentative disposition, peering first through the windows that faced the hallway before glancing at the wall clock situated above the blackboard to confirm that he was, indeed, five minutes early. His Avian perched on his shoulder with a chirp, adding to his overall disgusting appearance.
At least to Vaughn, he was.
There was absolutely nothing special about Iolani Tori. The brown hair; brown eyes; the clear but rather average skin tone, absolute lack of distinctive features...they all added to the fact that Vaughn would not be able to distinguish the sparrow in a crowd of people.
Unfortunately for the vulture, their gazes met. By complete coincidence! Or so he would have protested given the chance to but what had been done was done. Io tottered to the seat next to Vaughn.
The few students in class watched in awe as Io approached the table they all feared to even pass. They fixed a curious gaze on the pair, as though attempting to make a connection between the two before arriving at a confusing conclusion. These two were certainly not friends.
Surely, they couldn't be. Never—they would never be.
"Is anyone sit—"
"Yes," Vaughn said immediately. He did not look at Io. God, the mere sight of his detestable face ruined his day that had been going terribly well.
Iolani Tori could perhaps be known for his high tolerance (in other words, determinately stubborn nature) for unlikely responses, and was inclined to repeat his question. "Oh. So there's someone sitting here?"
Hadn't he answered the question? Was the sparrow even listening to him? "Yes," Vaughn snapped once more; so coldly anyone would have frozen at the word. Io didn't.
"Alright," came his response as he sidled into the seat in front of Vaughn. "Am I blocking you?"
Absurd. He was absurd! Absolutely ridiculous—how could a person as tiny as Iolani Tori block his line of sight? Vaughn was taller than the average human being and yet this small thing had the guts to ask him—him—whether he was being blocked! Vaughn seethed within with a flower so red he had to crush it.
"No," Vaughn said quietly.
"Okay then," Io responded with a smile and thankfully—thank skies—Tenner arrived just in time for class to start. A fitful slither of relief coursed through his river that was dry, leaving Vaughn fairly satiated in his calm retreat to the corner of his cage.
"Ah! We have an even number today," Miss Tenner turned to Io with a cheery grin. "I'm glad you decided to join us, Iolani. Professor Faustes relayed to me your special case, and I figured why not? Since, after all, we do have a couple of vacancies in the class."
Io nodded gratefully in return, waving politely.
"Oh but no Avians in class please," she reminded, spotting Lyra on his shoulder who promptly took off by the open window upon her words. "Alright, now that's settled...shall we get started?"
A taut silence consumed the class and the air remained quite still indeed. Io looked around before nodding at Tenner with a smile.
"Right, so..." She clapped her hands together. "Today we will be continuing from our lesson last week on Metaethics and moving on to Normative ethics." Absolutely no one was listening. Io could hear the private conversations of the people not far back. They weren't really trying to keep them private after all.
"We shall start the lesson with a fun and engaging pair activity! What do you think?" Essentially, no one thought anything. Except Io, of course. He appeared rather excited at the sound of ethics. "For now, we'll keep the discussion between you and the person sharing your table. Oh, and Io...perhaps you could sit next to Vaughn?" Tenner added with an expression so apologetic, Io thought she had asked him to sit next to the devil. "I-it's nice to have even numbers, after all. Everyone will have someone to share their opinions with."
Vaughn was certainly not one to share anything; let alone his opinions—well, if he had any in the first place. Such a ridiculous subject was not worthy of thought in the least.
"Okay," Io obliged, gathering his writing materials before shuffling over to the seat beside Vaughn. "Hi again."
The vulture felt as though he would shrivel and die anytime soon.
Tenner however, took no notice of the plain distaste that Vaughn had purposefully expressed on his flawless features. She had illustrated a fairly simple diagram on the blackboard which included five stick figures on something that looked very much like a long fence. It gave the sparrow a brief impression of returning to elementary school.
"This scenario features five people bound to a railway track, and are unable to escape." Ah...so it wasn't a fence, Io realized. "In a moment's time, a trolley that contains heavy weight will come hurtling at these five people!"
Io gasped involuntarily, and everyone stared at him like he was out of his mind. Tenner nodded vigorously as she sketched yet another terrible representation of a trolley on the tracks.
"But," She added an unlikely extension of the initial drawing to include a side track. "There is a way to save them!" Then, a strange representation of a lever that was purposefully placed a long distance away from the diagram.
"You can choose to pull the lever and direct the trolley to a different set of tracks!" Tenner sketched a single stick figure on the side track. "But there is also another person—one person—bound to this track. I would like everyone to discuss with your partner whether the lever should be pulled. Will five minutes be enough?"
Immediately, the pair behind Vaughn and Io resumed their gossip over the most appropriate hair colour that would match their prey's wings. No one seemed to respond to Tenner's question, or the task she had assigned for them to carry out. Io however, was quite determined.
"So," he turned to Vaughn with a pen and notebook ready. "Will you pull the lever?"
Mildly taken aback, the vulture did not respond. He had assumed that the silence between them would have lasted a little longer; or that, at least, the sparrow would have possessed some form of pride to wait for the other to speak first. After all, speaking first was like giving in to the pressure of silence—the obligation to speak.
It wasn't that Iolani Tori did not care about such minor concerns. In fact, he very much did. Io cared about the tiniest details that no one had the time or the mind to ever bother with. It was, however, despite his concerns of pride that he compromised and it was this very ability to see the bigger picture that frightened himself so.
"I'll walk away," Vaughn managed quite sullenly.
"Ah, so you won't pull it," Io noted, scribbling this down on his notepad but the vulture was quick to correct him.
"No," he emphasized. "I said I'll walk away."
"Yes but that's equal to choosing not to pull the lever isn't it? It's a little like ignoring your responsibilities," Io had put this so bluntly that Vaughn wasn't even sure if it was innocently or purposefully said. It made him a little disturbed.
"Responsibilities?" He laughed coldly. "I believe you're making things up."
This, Io managed with a very straight face. "Well you already know five people are going to die in a second, and yet you choose not to do anything about it—that's the burden you're going to bear, isn't it?
"My pa used to say knowledge is power," he continued thoughtfully, "but then there's this thing Pipa told me a long time ago, that with great power comes great responsibility. So if you bring these two phrases together, doesn't it also mean that you are responsible for what you know?"
"So, yeah. If you know that five people are going to die, you are responsible for that knowledge in that you should do something about it—am I wrong?" Io blinked, gazing at the vulture with eyes so clear the latter could see himself reflected in them.
They paused, quiet.
Vaughn was silently furious. "You are an idiot for taking things so seriously."
"Mm," Io nodded with a fair smile. "I've been told that. But what's wrong with taking things seriously?" His head tilted as though in confusion. "Should this not be taken seriously? If not, what should we take seriously?"
He gave up. It was useless getting to the sparrow; he was an absolute no-brainer.
"So you're saying the correct answer is to pull the lever? Is that it?" The vulture snapped bitterly, feeling as though he had given in to the underlying trap that Iolani Tori had set. Actually, no. Io did not set a thing—he was just being him.
"I don't think it's as simple as a one-answer question," he arrived slowly at a conclusion. "I think that's the answer that Miss Tenner wants, but it isn't necessarily the correct answer, you know what I mean?" Io bit his lip and drew eights on his notepad. He turned it around and stared at the infinity sign.
"Alright students!" Tenner tapped the board to gain their attention. "You've probably arrived at an answer by now, but I want you to keep it to yourself, is that clear?" Vaughn constantly felt as though Tenner's classes were filled with five-year-olds but it didn't quite matter to him. He wasn't listening half of the time but for some reason...today he was.
He attributed this sudden attention to his desire to correct Iolani Tori at least once, to show him that he wasn't always right—and that his idiocy was a detrimental flaw to his lifestyle.
"Now I'd like you to consider over the next ten minutes the answers to the questions on the board, and see if it differs from your first answer! Oh, and do remember to keep your volume down," she laughed awkwardly, noticing that the students at the very back were beginning to form groups of four or five. As far as Io knew, they were exchanging bedtime stories about their respective prey's heats.
He read the first question aloud. "If, say, the one person on the side track is replaced by an important person, E-G a king, and the five people by commoners, would you pull the lever?" Turning to Vaughn, he repeated it. "What do you think?"
The vulture clicked his tongue in distaste. "I can read, Iolani Tori. Thank you very much." Io laughed.
"You said my full name! And, you're welcome."
Vaughn held in a scream.
The sparrow was absurd. He was mad.
"So what do you think?" Io peered up at him with a smile that disarmed. "I'll still pull it. What about you?"
Alright, at least they agreed about one thing. Vaughn sighed. "Pull it."
Io appeared relieved at his response. "Oh. We agree on something," he pointed out absentmindedly. "What's your reason?"
"The king is a thing of nothing," the vulture said quietly, and upon Io's tilted head and puzzled look, drew his lips into a thin line before explaining. "It's from Hamlet."
"Ah," Io scratched the back of his head in a sheepish manner. "Sorry. Is that TV show? You like watching TV?"
"No it's a play you idiot," Vaughn snapped immediately. "It's fine. People like you wouldn't know Shakespeare. I was naïve to have thought so highly of you."
"You did?" Io responded without a clue. "Then I guess you must be naïve after all!"
Had there been anyone listening in to their conversation, they would have found everything thoroughly amusing; from Vaughn's persistent attempts at faulting the sparrow and the latter's innocently witty responses that nullified the barrel of insults—the clash of their values and personalities made so obvious and yet...so strangely enchanting.
Io scribbled the quote on his notepad. "Alright, bookworm-Vaughn! Do you have anything else to add?"
The vulture scoffed. "Your fat king and lean beggar is but variable service...two dishes but to one table: the end."
Io clapped. "Wow! You're really good at this," he said while taking down the quote but before Vaughn could respond with an appropriate frown at a rare compliment he had never, ever received and splutter at the sheer embarrassment it instilled in his mind, Io was quick to reassure him that no, it wasn't an uncomfortably-nice remark after all. "Isn't it easier to say that kings and beggars all die in the end? I'll just write that. I don't know how to spell variable," he lied with a playful smile. "Do you like reading, Vaughn?"
Maybe he did.
Just a little.
Books contained an orderly world, after all. At least far more orderly than the world he lived in.
The vulture made no attempt to answer Io's question.
"Right, so...what if the one person is replaced by someone important to you? Like, a family member or best friend," the sparrow moved on accordingly, understanding that Vaughn might not wish to tell him everything—or anything at all, for the matter. The question written on the blackboard was rather vague for Io, but he was certain that the answer would, for all intents and purposes, remain as it is.
To pull the lever.
Surely, it was a trick question; the kind that warranted a pause and halted any human mind with its sheer adversity. To be selfish and choose the one you love, or to choose—regardless of circumstances—what was deemed to be ethically right.
At present, Iolani Tori had assumed the answer to be painfully obvious and the question,
Awfully simple.
It laid itself bare in his cage, subject to scrutiny but only to reveal that the problem was terribly easy to solve for the inexperienced boy. He would save the five. He would—he had to. It was the right thing to do.
"I'll pull it."
Vaughn laughed shortly, a bitter smile being the only thing he could execute. "Really."
"Yup," Io shrugged, resting his head on the surface of their desk while doodling infinity signs all over his notepad. "You?"
"Hm," was all the vulture managed without laying bare the vulnerable creature in his cage. It wasn't as if he had a family member that loved him very much. It was all very one-sided, as far as he could understand. Vaughn didn't understand very much, really. The other option had been a friend—which proved to have little to no relevance to a human being like himself at all.
"I wouldn't know."
"Eh?" Io raised his head and shifted closer. He hadn't caught that.
"I said I wouldn't know," Vaughn repeated stiffly, acknowledging the discomfort that a mere sparrow could provide him.
They were quiet for a moment; listening to the sounds of disorder that plagued the rest of the world.
"That's alright," the sparrow said all of a sudden, and Vaughn wondered if he really knew what he had meant by not being able to give an answer. To be alone in the darkness—did Iolani Tori really understand what it was like to be alone?
"It kinda hurts when you know," he went on, returning to eights and infinities. "I'm not sure if I want you to."
The vulture almost laughed; for what could possibly hurt more than being alone?
"But maybe you will, someday. And I guess I'll just...be there when the time comes." He smiled absentmindedly.
__________________________
The rest of the day passed with little time for thorough thought, where Io, Luna and Lyra focused solely on searching for a perfect solution to the unseen problem that Io was facing. Tenner's extra-curricular class had left him perfectly unsettled seeing that he gave himself little time to reflect on his conversation with Vaughn. The boy understood well that he could not afford to distract himself any longer, what with the precious slither of time he had left in his hands.
The assessment was in less than twenty-four hours. In less than a day—he would face an empty mirror; not empty to himself, no. Just to the rest of the world and because the perspective of others was crucial if not more important his own, he might as well regard the mirror empty.
But these were all the thoughts of a boy who was slightly uncertain and for the time being, quite alone. He who had a hard time conceiving the heavy mind upon shoulders that were once light and no one to share this with...it was a burden he no longer feared but to carry this with him as he moved on; he found this the hardest thing to do.
Io searched himself to discover that letting go was, indeed, the easiest solution to complex issues people would rather forget—at least easier compared to taking a burden upon his shoulders which he knew would only get heavier and heavier; perhaps come to crush the fragile being underneath—and that some things were meant to be left behind, never to be seen ever again; but the thought that crossed his mind was waving from the abyss in which he had risen from.
He should let go. He should care less. He should mind his own business and stop thinking about other people for once and just let it all go.
But like he had always thought and said: leaving things behind—which, although would make him much happier—was not the point. His life couldn't possibly be filled with events and people that he would ultimately leave behind, that was inconceivable to the boy and actually...quite...disturbing.
At present, he had yet to understand the importance of this idea and the conclusion he would derive from it. Why should we carry our problems on our backs and hurt ourselves as we go forward?
He did not know it yet.
___________________________
The point was not to run.
As the sun retreated beneath the horizon and left its partner to rise, the stage for his act was set and the audience, prepared. They waited at the edge of their seats, anticipating for the show to start and for the grand entrance of its core performer.
Io had never seen the faces of the council, let alone know who they were or how they would be. He waited outside the great hall—just behind the double doors that towered above him—and kept to himself.
A man dressed in a dark uniform approached him with a smile that was mild and polite.
"You may enter," he informed, turning to the doors with little expression in his eyes.
Io grasped the handle and managed a tiny gap through the doors before stepping in.
Until now, Iolani Tori had thought cages held only animals. He would come to see that he was wrong; for locks were placed not only on cages, but on people—on hearts and minds and drawing blinds; the demons within us contained, treasures retained, but the world?
A cage.
____________________________
A/N: It's been an ongoing thing, isn't it? Since the last book. It goes along with the theme, I suppose, of birds and freedom. Well you see, it isn't exactly about freedom either. It isn't that Io's and Pipa's and Luka's or Vaughn's or any other character in the book has their hearts in cages (the phrase usually goes like "the creature within his cage fluttered", alluding to the idea that their hearts are birds themselves (flutter), but it also changes according to the language and sometimes the "creature" becomes a monster instead of a bird when I use the words "stalked" or "breathed with a flame". This also gives the impression that the heart—while being as beautiful and precious as a bird that must be protected (and therefore caged), can also be dangerous; so much so that locking it up would be the better option.
We know that the heart poses a great danger to our rational minds but that is an idea far too basic as I see it. There is so much more than the phrase "listen to your heart" because that's not all there is.
The heart is a monster and we know that. Yet, it also sings the song of a bird so rare, we cannot help but listen to it. The cage is there for so many reasons that are mostly stated within this chapter on why we lock things up.
The reason prey are locked in their rooms during heat is highly significant. It alludes to the suppressed sexuality of women in general—in our society that is changing, but not to an extent so great that we forget our roots. This has something to do with women being the inferior gender, just like how prey are inferior to predators, but of course there are many ways to interpret this and I am, of course, always free to listen to what you think about it! :D
The larger picture of prey and predator each as a symbol of something is also an important theme in the series.
Phew! That was long. I'm so sorry if I sounded long-winded :')
There's quite a portion for Vaughn in this chapter :> he is so enjoyable to write. The smile that Io saw on Luka's lips when he was with others is something like a smirk. And Io has only seen Luka's genuine smiles before, and thus feels a little insecure. He has yet to fully grasp, however, the significance of the smiles that Luka shows to him only.
-Santa Cuppiecake.
P.S: Merry Chwuhue :> *pops Io in a box and gives it to Luka*