Flight School: Predator - Chapter 57: Chapter 57
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'No one likes to wait', or so the waiters say as they do, at every second of the wait—long or short—they wait nevertheless, sitting under the tree in the night, bracing the wind and watching the grass; opening the fridge in search of something spicy or in a single case, by simply existing.
But if simple existence was the wait, would he not be waiting forever, should he continue to exist?
Iolani Tori knew this.
There were people who waited. Waited for a return; for freedom; for others; and sometimes, for love. He could, very strangely, fathom the thought of a waiting humanity that waited for humans. It was patient and optimistic, sometimes weak but also strong. He wondered how long it would last—the wait.
He never did find his answer,
but at least he found something else.
*
The Class of Hearts (having, by some twisted and unlikely Fortune, regained their title) were gathered in the living area of Vaughn's room as they waited, in silence, for the last person to arrive. Some were seated on his couch; some on the stairs to the loft, bannister included; some by the window and some by the warmth of his electric heater.
This was only ever the second time that Vaughn had people come over and his first for a number that exceeded two. Admittedly uncomfortable, he could not help but watch over closely, ensuring that none of them had hands as itchy as Iolani Tori's or a curiosity as morbid as Shri's. Or the urge to comment at everything in sight as Dmitri Ford often had.
"Thank you for agreeing to this, Vaughn." The phoenix said to him as they stood by the kitchen door, watching the rest talk quietly amongst themselves. "Io was very glad that you did."
"I didn't agree to this," the vulture dismissed her gratitude with tight lips. "It was merely the only option. You and I were given the larger rooms in the dormitory. You because you're the phoenix. And I because I was, once, the unbeatable victor of the season games."
He continued. "Since we risk the danger of being caught in a female student's room past ten o'clock, it was only advisable that I offer mine."
There was a hint of a rare smile upon her lips, barely hanging on its edges. "That is thoughtful of you."
A gentle silence of compromise and reflection nestled between the two—a space once filled by needles and a dry electricity that would often spark into flames. He raised the question that had been pacing inside his cage for the past week. A week since the passing of Reux Yvone; a name that was once carried by the wind, far and wide, was now forbidden on the island.
"Why do you think he invited Io to see him die?" The question.
Their eyes were fixed on Dmitri, who paced around the living room in an attempt to calm the restless creature in his cage. The movement was distracting.
"I think the question is also 'why he had to die' but the answer to both..." she left it hanging, staring out into the light from their corner that was dark. That one could leave—without a care for what was left behind and take the route that was ea$Y tHe path thst she'd YEARNED TO takє but could ɹǝʌǝu—it filled her with disgust and єnvy
So much that she wished he was alive so that she could set his eyes on fire to clear the clouds that masked his vision oh he was disgusting.
"Are you hungry?"
Jing turned to the vulture who had spoken, gaze blank and still. "I'm sorry?"
"No," Vaughn turned away. "It's just. You look fairly distressed and as the host, I should be concerned. Not that I actually knew what you were thinking about, no. I've never had guests over so the definition of a good host is, well, beyond my understanding hence I made a guess," the vulture cleared his throat awkwardly, "about you being hungry."
The phoenix coughed, hiding a smile.
"I see." She turned behind to survey the tidy kitchen over her shoulder. "I suppose you're not wrong."
"Ah!" Vaughn seemed fairly concerned himself upon hearing this. His mind was not so socially apt as to predict what would come after the question, should she agree with him. "Well. I...this is why I generally don't invite guests over. Responsibilities. Trouble. Having to be concerned about many people when I could barely care for myself and yes, more responsibilities." He was rambling and he knew it.
The vulture sighed, heavy with wait, surveying the rest of his guests before finally turning to his phoenix friend once more with a question. "Is everyone else hungry?"
"Dmitri is. I've heard him think about the fried chicken that he had last night and the several luxurious steaks that he'd had in his life for at least four times in the past three minutes," she laid out very specifically. "Shri is craving for curry right now. She's thinking: did the vulture use the instant curry that I gave him last time and plans to ask if she could cook it now if you haven't used it yet. Everyone has thought about food in the past ten minutes except you."
Vaughn paled.
"That is uncanny."
She laughed quietly. "No, it is quite human."
Retreating into the kitchen, he opened his cabinet of rations that consisted only of kimchi ramyeon and counted the packets that remained. Six. He counted the number of people in the living room and found that serving his guests would mean that he would, at the very least, have to wait for another two weeks before he could eat his favourite meal again. That was how long it took for his orders to come by post.
"Could you help me get that stew pot from the left-most cabinet?" The last time he recalled it being used was when his mother cooked chicken soup for him and his brother. "Yes. No...the biggest one. Yes." It was a long time ago.
*
"Something smells really good," claimed Dmitri the falcon, peering curiously into the kitchen to find a busy vulture and phoenix. "Woah, is that your dinner?"
Vaughn spared the intruder a glance before returning to his pot of kimchi ramen, completed with bakchoy and ddeokbokki that Jing had helped to slice. "I wish it was."
"He's making dinner for us all," his assistant explained, unpacking slices of processed cheese as instructed by the chef himself.
Dmitri did a double take. "Vaughn? Cooking for us? I mean—I never imaged he could cook...let alone have the will to cook for me."
"No one's cooking for you, Ford." Vaughn was quick to correct the falcon, testing the soup base before adding more kimchi paste to the pot. "This is to be shared."
"Oh."
The ramen was topped off with slices of cheese before taken off the heat. Mitten-wearing Vaughn called the parting of the red sea before exiting the kitchen and going straight towards the coffee table. There, the most selfish person in the world shared his pot of nostalgia with people he'd never imagined to be smiling and helping themselves so eagerly.
Something was wrong. Something about his world was broken—the book that he was in.
"This is really good," said Shri between slurps, chopsticks reaching into the pot for more.
Jing nodded in agreement, turning to Vaughn to observe his reaction. The latter looked away.
"I-it uh, sure is spicy goodness," laughed Dmitri as he choked and reached for water. Lucienne shoved the bottle into his trembling hands, shaking her head at his incredibly low threshold for spicy things. "God, how are you guys eating this with a straight face?"
Odette casually pointed out that the spiciest thing he ever had was ketchup.
"What? Ketchup isn't even spicy."
"Exactly."
It took Vaughn a reluctant minute or so to offer the falcon another pot of ramen, non-spicy, just for his consumption. Dmitri was delighted but Jeremiah held him back. "You're spoiling him. Let the boy starve." Dmitri was not delighted.
"Hey, leave some for Io and Luka," reminded Abigail, finishing up her serving before collecting Lucienne's chopsticks and bringing them to the kitchen sink altogether. "Where are they, anyway?"
_____________________________
He was waiting for the other at the place they first met.
It had been a long time coming—such a long, long time since they were alone, together. There was the game that they'd played together during the first time; the game of searching, of looking for something that was lost and finding it, narrowly missing that which the other sought. For the longest time, Luka had been searching for the light in his darkness.
He had been searching for the moon.
"Luka," the very person he was thinking about popped his head out of the gap between the trunk of the tree and the wooden planks of their house. "You're early."
"I wasn't waiting for long."
"But half the candle's gone," he smiled, sitting cross-legged beside the eagle. Lyra on his shoulder. "So you were early."
Caught, he attempted to explain. "I didn't want to make you wait."
"Why not?"
Luka met his gaze, thinking. "You've had your share of it, long enough."
It was a long moment of beating hearts and breathing creatures
living inside
crying
"Are you okay?"
"No. Are you?"
"No. Are ̸̪̞̫̙̳y͖̫o͘u͔?͔̗"
"ǹ̫̭̪̹o̖̹̲̤. Are you?"
"No."
"No̖̹̲̤?"
"No."
"̷̪̯͎̳̣̪̪I͎̝͖̬o̶̗͎̺̮͓̪!̗̫̤̟͎̲"̢̫͚̠̲ ̲͈͈͘He could feel the pain sear every part of his cage. ͘"̨̺I͙̞ͅ'̠̭̦̲ͅm͝ ̖͚ș͍o̸̮͙̭͖͚ͅ ̸̰̯̙͍͉s̱̘̣͈͕o̟͡r̤̬̺̳̝͟r̥̝̦̹̺̦y̠̪͇!̷͇"͍̲̲̙͙̩̰͠ ̙͖̥̳̖̫̦̕
"̮Ṉ͉o!̤̼̬̞̖͈ ͇̰̳̻̦̺̠͜Ḭ̘̟͕̣́'̱͝m̳͚ͅ ̳͕̯͇̗̬̱́t̡͚̲͉͙̲̣h̯͇͙̰̮̯̰͘e̵̥͇̝̼͍̤ ̦o̤̩̩̗͇ṇ̥͙̩̭͞e̳͘.̝̰̰ ̗͚̟̭̜̭ͅI̛̖͙'̵̯̰̟̟̳m̮͉̹̦ ̢͓̙͍̤̲͕s͏͎̰̣̰o͍͈̤̠r̙r͖̩̦̫̫̺y̸̜͎̮͎̥!̗͎ ͍̪̥̝̝I̳'͉͎̥̙̖̗̞͞m͉͡—I̺͇̼̠̥ͅ!̗̭̩̜͉̪́"͉̮̟̥͕ ̞̰͉̕ ̟̫́
I wasn't who you thought I was! I let you down! I caused you so much pain! I'm selfish for being myself! For fixating on what it means to be human and foolishly thinking that I could get people to understand and see—see what I could see I AM SO SELFISH! I HAVE dESTRoyED EVERYTHING ONLY TO DESTROY M̕Y̤S͚̰E̹̕L̻͈̖F̸!
̡̳͖͔͚It was in front of the other that the pain was raw and unfiltered. The truth was that he would recover from the loss; would never mend the creature that was broken beyond repair and could only protect it behind bars.
"I'm sorry that I wasn't—"
"I'm sorry that I couldn't—"
"—there for you when—"
"—be by your side when—"
"—you needed me—"
"—you needed me—"
"—the most."
"—the most!"
They could hear the creature inside calling for a companion and nothing they did could still its roar or stifle its screams for things that were divergent. Apologies furthered the distance between them and was, at the same time, all that they could manage without falling apart.
___________________________
It was the bell.
"You're late," Vaughn said without his eyes as he opened the door, thinking that it was the pair of lovebirds that never seemed to be apart. It wasn't.
"O-oh," Pipa had her eyes wide. Behind her, Jiro averted his gaze. "Hi. Is Io...?"
"No, he isn't." The vulture stared at the two other prey that were further behind, down the corridor. He could identify their scent.
"Oh! We, um...we must have gotten the wrong room, then." Pipa apologized, turning to wheel herself away when Vaughn opened the door wide enough for her to enter and everyone else in the living see that it was not Iolani Tori who had come.
There are some people worth waiting for.
He'd thought that Io was referring to himself. Full of surprises, the moon was till the very end.
There are some things worth waiting for.
She'd thought that Io was referring to boiled potatoes. Full of surprises, the moon was till the very end. He had intended for this to happen all along.
"Come in," said Vaughn to the four of them, and they did.
Like love
Looks were exchanged and faces, mostly confused but the moment they noticed the presence of the nightingale, afraid and alone, they could not help but run to him—knowing well that Io had not planned this for it to be about him
And humans
but assembled hearts, beating for something
that was more than themselves.
-END-
But if simple existence was the wait, would he not be waiting forever, should he continue to exist?
Iolani Tori knew this.
There were people who waited. Waited for a return; for freedom; for others; and sometimes, for love. He could, very strangely, fathom the thought of a waiting humanity that waited for humans. It was patient and optimistic, sometimes weak but also strong. He wondered how long it would last—the wait.
He never did find his answer,
but at least he found something else.
*
The Class of Hearts (having, by some twisted and unlikely Fortune, regained their title) were gathered in the living area of Vaughn's room as they waited, in silence, for the last person to arrive. Some were seated on his couch; some on the stairs to the loft, bannister included; some by the window and some by the warmth of his electric heater.
This was only ever the second time that Vaughn had people come over and his first for a number that exceeded two. Admittedly uncomfortable, he could not help but watch over closely, ensuring that none of them had hands as itchy as Iolani Tori's or a curiosity as morbid as Shri's. Or the urge to comment at everything in sight as Dmitri Ford often had.
"Thank you for agreeing to this, Vaughn." The phoenix said to him as they stood by the kitchen door, watching the rest talk quietly amongst themselves. "Io was very glad that you did."
"I didn't agree to this," the vulture dismissed her gratitude with tight lips. "It was merely the only option. You and I were given the larger rooms in the dormitory. You because you're the phoenix. And I because I was, once, the unbeatable victor of the season games."
He continued. "Since we risk the danger of being caught in a female student's room past ten o'clock, it was only advisable that I offer mine."
There was a hint of a rare smile upon her lips, barely hanging on its edges. "That is thoughtful of you."
A gentle silence of compromise and reflection nestled between the two—a space once filled by needles and a dry electricity that would often spark into flames. He raised the question that had been pacing inside his cage for the past week. A week since the passing of Reux Yvone; a name that was once carried by the wind, far and wide, was now forbidden on the island.
"Why do you think he invited Io to see him die?" The question.
Their eyes were fixed on Dmitri, who paced around the living room in an attempt to calm the restless creature in his cage. The movement was distracting.
"I think the question is also 'why he had to die' but the answer to both..." she left it hanging, staring out into the light from their corner that was dark. That one could leave—without a care for what was left behind and take the route that was ea$Y tHe path thst she'd YEARNED TO takє but could ɹǝʌǝu—it filled her with disgust and єnvy
So much that she wished he was alive so that she could set his eyes on fire to clear the clouds that masked his vision oh he was disgusting.
"Are you hungry?"
Jing turned to the vulture who had spoken, gaze blank and still. "I'm sorry?"
"No," Vaughn turned away. "It's just. You look fairly distressed and as the host, I should be concerned. Not that I actually knew what you were thinking about, no. I've never had guests over so the definition of a good host is, well, beyond my understanding hence I made a guess," the vulture cleared his throat awkwardly, "about you being hungry."
The phoenix coughed, hiding a smile.
"I see." She turned behind to survey the tidy kitchen over her shoulder. "I suppose you're not wrong."
"Ah!" Vaughn seemed fairly concerned himself upon hearing this. His mind was not so socially apt as to predict what would come after the question, should she agree with him. "Well. I...this is why I generally don't invite guests over. Responsibilities. Trouble. Having to be concerned about many people when I could barely care for myself and yes, more responsibilities." He was rambling and he knew it.
The vulture sighed, heavy with wait, surveying the rest of his guests before finally turning to his phoenix friend once more with a question. "Is everyone else hungry?"
"Dmitri is. I've heard him think about the fried chicken that he had last night and the several luxurious steaks that he'd had in his life for at least four times in the past three minutes," she laid out very specifically. "Shri is craving for curry right now. She's thinking: did the vulture use the instant curry that I gave him last time and plans to ask if she could cook it now if you haven't used it yet. Everyone has thought about food in the past ten minutes except you."
Vaughn paled.
"That is uncanny."
She laughed quietly. "No, it is quite human."
Retreating into the kitchen, he opened his cabinet of rations that consisted only of kimchi ramyeon and counted the packets that remained. Six. He counted the number of people in the living room and found that serving his guests would mean that he would, at the very least, have to wait for another two weeks before he could eat his favourite meal again. That was how long it took for his orders to come by post.
"Could you help me get that stew pot from the left-most cabinet?" The last time he recalled it being used was when his mother cooked chicken soup for him and his brother. "Yes. No...the biggest one. Yes." It was a long time ago.
*
"Something smells really good," claimed Dmitri the falcon, peering curiously into the kitchen to find a busy vulture and phoenix. "Woah, is that your dinner?"
Vaughn spared the intruder a glance before returning to his pot of kimchi ramen, completed with bakchoy and ddeokbokki that Jing had helped to slice. "I wish it was."
"He's making dinner for us all," his assistant explained, unpacking slices of processed cheese as instructed by the chef himself.
Dmitri did a double take. "Vaughn? Cooking for us? I mean—I never imaged he could cook...let alone have the will to cook for me."
"No one's cooking for you, Ford." Vaughn was quick to correct the falcon, testing the soup base before adding more kimchi paste to the pot. "This is to be shared."
"Oh."
The ramen was topped off with slices of cheese before taken off the heat. Mitten-wearing Vaughn called the parting of the red sea before exiting the kitchen and going straight towards the coffee table. There, the most selfish person in the world shared his pot of nostalgia with people he'd never imagined to be smiling and helping themselves so eagerly.
Something was wrong. Something about his world was broken—the book that he was in.
"This is really good," said Shri between slurps, chopsticks reaching into the pot for more.
Jing nodded in agreement, turning to Vaughn to observe his reaction. The latter looked away.
"I-it uh, sure is spicy goodness," laughed Dmitri as he choked and reached for water. Lucienne shoved the bottle into his trembling hands, shaking her head at his incredibly low threshold for spicy things. "God, how are you guys eating this with a straight face?"
Odette casually pointed out that the spiciest thing he ever had was ketchup.
"What? Ketchup isn't even spicy."
"Exactly."
It took Vaughn a reluctant minute or so to offer the falcon another pot of ramen, non-spicy, just for his consumption. Dmitri was delighted but Jeremiah held him back. "You're spoiling him. Let the boy starve." Dmitri was not delighted.
"Hey, leave some for Io and Luka," reminded Abigail, finishing up her serving before collecting Lucienne's chopsticks and bringing them to the kitchen sink altogether. "Where are they, anyway?"
_____________________________
He was waiting for the other at the place they first met.
It had been a long time coming—such a long, long time since they were alone, together. There was the game that they'd played together during the first time; the game of searching, of looking for something that was lost and finding it, narrowly missing that which the other sought. For the longest time, Luka had been searching for the light in his darkness.
He had been searching for the moon.
"Luka," the very person he was thinking about popped his head out of the gap between the trunk of the tree and the wooden planks of their house. "You're early."
"I wasn't waiting for long."
"But half the candle's gone," he smiled, sitting cross-legged beside the eagle. Lyra on his shoulder. "So you were early."
Caught, he attempted to explain. "I didn't want to make you wait."
"Why not?"
Luka met his gaze, thinking. "You've had your share of it, long enough."
It was a long moment of beating hearts and breathing creatures
living inside
crying
"Are you okay?"
"No. Are you?"
"No. Are ̸̪̞̫̙̳y͖̫o͘u͔?͔̗"
"ǹ̫̭̪̹o̖̹̲̤. Are you?"
"No."
"No̖̹̲̤?"
"No."
"̷̪̯͎̳̣̪̪I͎̝͖̬o̶̗͎̺̮͓̪!̗̫̤̟͎̲"̢̫͚̠̲ ̲͈͈͘He could feel the pain sear every part of his cage. ͘"̨̺I͙̞ͅ'̠̭̦̲ͅm͝ ̖͚ș͍o̸̮͙̭͖͚ͅ ̸̰̯̙͍͉s̱̘̣͈͕o̟͡r̤̬̺̳̝͟r̥̝̦̹̺̦y̠̪͇!̷͇"͍̲̲̙͙̩̰͠ ̙͖̥̳̖̫̦̕
"̮Ṉ͉o!̤̼̬̞̖͈ ͇̰̳̻̦̺̠͜Ḭ̘̟͕̣́'̱͝m̳͚ͅ ̳͕̯͇̗̬̱́t̡͚̲͉͙̲̣h̯͇͙̰̮̯̰͘e̵̥͇̝̼͍̤ ̦o̤̩̩̗͇ṇ̥͙̩̭͞e̳͘.̝̰̰ ̗͚̟̭̜̭ͅI̛̖͙'̵̯̰̟̟̳m̮͉̹̦ ̢͓̙͍̤̲͕s͏͎̰̣̰o͍͈̤̠r̙r͖̩̦̫̫̺y̸̜͎̮͎̥!̗͎ ͍̪̥̝̝I̳'͉͎̥̙̖̗̞͞m͉͡—I̺͇̼̠̥ͅ!̗̭̩̜͉̪́"͉̮̟̥͕ ̞̰͉̕ ̟̫́
I wasn't who you thought I was! I let you down! I caused you so much pain! I'm selfish for being myself! For fixating on what it means to be human and foolishly thinking that I could get people to understand and see—see what I could see I AM SO SELFISH! I HAVE dESTRoyED EVERYTHING ONLY TO DESTROY M̕Y̤S͚̰E̹̕L̻͈̖F̸!
̡̳͖͔͚It was in front of the other that the pain was raw and unfiltered. The truth was that he would recover from the loss; would never mend the creature that was broken beyond repair and could only protect it behind bars.
"I'm sorry that I wasn't—"
"I'm sorry that I couldn't—"
"—there for you when—"
"—be by your side when—"
"—you needed me—"
"—you needed me—"
"—the most."
"—the most!"
They could hear the creature inside calling for a companion and nothing they did could still its roar or stifle its screams for things that were divergent. Apologies furthered the distance between them and was, at the same time, all that they could manage without falling apart.
___________________________
It was the bell.
"You're late," Vaughn said without his eyes as he opened the door, thinking that it was the pair of lovebirds that never seemed to be apart. It wasn't.
"O-oh," Pipa had her eyes wide. Behind her, Jiro averted his gaze. "Hi. Is Io...?"
"No, he isn't." The vulture stared at the two other prey that were further behind, down the corridor. He could identify their scent.
"Oh! We, um...we must have gotten the wrong room, then." Pipa apologized, turning to wheel herself away when Vaughn opened the door wide enough for her to enter and everyone else in the living see that it was not Iolani Tori who had come.
There are some people worth waiting for.
He'd thought that Io was referring to himself. Full of surprises, the moon was till the very end.
There are some things worth waiting for.
She'd thought that Io was referring to boiled potatoes. Full of surprises, the moon was till the very end. He had intended for this to happen all along.
"Come in," said Vaughn to the four of them, and they did.
Like love
Looks were exchanged and faces, mostly confused but the moment they noticed the presence of the nightingale, afraid and alone, they could not help but run to him—knowing well that Io had not planned this for it to be about him
And humans
but assembled hearts, beating for something
that was more than themselves.
-END-
End of Flight School: Predator Chapter 57. View all chapters or return to Flight School: Predator book page.