This chapter is very, very, very rough around the edges. It's really just an idea that's been rattling in my head for a while and I wanted to trial it. So here.
!Strawberry Kisses!
Word Count: 3,377
Death was an odd experience.
Having the water, sour and salty, rushing into my throat and up my nose and I sank, weighed down by the rope tangled in my legs, the blurry, shifting figures of my workmates as they called for aid, called for me, called for my fading awareness...That was an odd experience too.
Then came the brief flashes of consciousness that came after. Warmth. Pulsing. Shifting. Not quite comfortable. Ah, much better. Itching. All of which were equally, if not slightly varying in degrees of oddness.
After which, I realised I had to hack my way free of my womb.
No one told me I had to do it. I just realised I had to.
Most of the liquid suspension was gone from my little home, my little cradle, and something in me understood it was time to leave. And so, I twisted and turned until I found hard scratch against hard, reared my head back and broke free from my confines, instantly filling my dark domain with streams of warm air.
But, what I must say, was the most startling shock to my system, was the huge, looming smiles of towering humans, and then the subsequent realisation, that I, me, myself, was a mother fucking bird.
Being a bird, is damn boring.
Who would have guessed?
Perhaps, though, it wasn't the fault of the fact that I was a now incarnated as a bird, but, instead, that I was born a captive bird, hatched almost directly into the observation cage for people to peer and coo at. No, I wasn't a zoo bird, or even a wildlife park bird, I was a pet-store bird, surrounded by animals that were shipped in and out of the doors, with or without families by their sides.
Most of my brothers and sisters had been sold already, but I still remained with only a handful of my first companions, the store's staff warning the patrons of my 'anti-social' behaviour. I was known to bite and screech at not only human hands, but the approach of my own species, quick to scare the young ones who scrambled up to me in either attempts to enforce dominance in the cage or comfort - though, if they were after the second, I tended to be gentler in my rejections.
It only took the staff three fights and two high strung males thrown to the floor of the cage to realise that I wasn't going to be kind to my roommates, and eventually, I earned myself the prize of a much smaller, separate cage that was taller than it was wider. I huffed at them as they carefully gave me grain and pieces of a boiled egg from behind a thick glove, but accepted the results, happy that I was at least able to sleep without someone trying to experimentally hop on my back.
Yeah, he was one of the males that were rather viciously slammed from the perch to the floor in front of a bunch of screaming children.
Platycercus Elegans, more commonly known as Crimson Rosella. That's what I was, heartwarming, really, that I still had a piece of my home with me.
'Exotic', we were called here, in this pet store, Japanese folk not used to our colourisation and shrill call. I had burst out from my grey and fleshy chick form, and had gained feathers of red, blue and black that startled the people in the store, staff always happy to show off their little 'Queenie'. And show me off they did, but only until the glamour faded, my inactivity causing children to grow bored and run off the main cage where my fellow birds flapped and chartered, dogs bounced and cats groomed, fish swam in schools and mice scrambled.
There were more attractions in this store than my 'grumpy' self, more interactive pets to take home and tug at their fur until they finally turned around and bit you. I enjoyed it though, my solitude. It allowed me to think, to hang on my rocking perch and sway absently, watching the staff interact with people as they came up the register with questions on their lips and money in their hands.
"What about this one?" A woman asked, pointing at me, the teenager following her finger until she saw my form.
"Oh, this is Queenie." The girl answered, "She's an Australian Crimson Rosella."
I had learnt this language in a slow, painful process that relied almost entirely on the sponge-like attribute of a growing chick's mind and the scatterings of English that covered the place, and even then, only the basics were translatable. So it allowed me to know of the sign that specifically said: Do Not Touch! below my cage, warning people against doing exactly as she was attempting.
"Really?" The woman hummed, eyeing me. "May I hold her?"
"I'm sorry, Queenie's pretty independent, she doesn't like to be touched."
"I have quite a few birds," She pushed, puffing up her chest in self-promotion. "I'm sure she'll like me, I know how to calm them."
"I'm really sorry, miss, you can't- Miss, miss!"
My eyes widened as the lady reached for my latch, her smile smug as she invaded my home with fleshy fingers and made a rough grab for me. In an instant, I knew this woman had never held a bird before, never properly. She was trying to wrap her fingers around my wings and bend my legs into her palm, she didn't get how I bent at all and was just trying to get a handful.
I screeched and flapped, the edges of my wings brushing my cage as I tried to get the absolute hell out of there, the shouts of my kinsmen ascending as they listened to their own panic. My flapping became frantic as I hit the top of my cage, and her hand wrapped around me awkwardly, fingers digging into the flesh under my wings as she tried to pull me out.
Thrashing about, I released a shrill shriek that made children cover their ears before sinking my beak into her hand, hacking at it like I did my egg, only ceasing when she shook me off in a fright, letting me flee to the opposite side of the cage and cling to the bars as I hissed and squawked at the woman.
The bloody lady was quickly grabbed and pulled from my cage, the teenage employee gently pushing her back and calling for the manager to lead her out of the store, telling her that she wasn't welcome back.
"I'm so sorry, Queenie." The girl cooed, closing my cage quickly and trying to soothe my rattled state. "I'm sorry, it's fine now, calm down."
I heaved and looked at the girl, seeing her apologetic expression as she surveyed the state of my cage, food and water bowls upturned and making a mess on the floor from the fight. She didn't reach in to fix it, however, an act of kindness and thought on her part as she let me settle.
I looked to the cage which held my kin, seeing how they huddled on the side nearest to me, hanging from all the free spaces to try and get a good look at me, to check me over from the distance, young ones squealing in worry.
I wanted to go back to the big cage. Only for a little while.
It was another quiet day, the weekdays being slower without the children bustling in and out. A few more minutes would remedy that, however, with children being dragged along by their parents sure to burst in at a nearing time.
I made a small squall, and settled down in my cage, softly grooming my wings in an absent manner, stretching and humming a nonsensical tune. It was best to get it out of the way before the children came, the less movement I made, the less likely they'd stay to try and poke between the bars.
With a final ruffle, I was pleased with my bath and tucked myself in for a long sitting session, eyeing the clock as the first squeal of a child came into the store. Closing my eyes, I listened to the children come and go, become distracted, chase things around before racing out of the store. It was repetitive and achingly boring, leaving me near the edge of dozing - until I felt, a continuous, probing gaze.
That wasn't unusual, so I ignored it, continuing to play oblivious to the watchful eyes, waiting for them to walk away.
They stayed.
They stayed for five minutes, then ten, then fifteen, and I wondered where this kid's parents were. They didn't speak, and they didn't poke. They didn't scream for some sort of action or demand for me to parrot a bloody 'Polly want a cracka'?!'. They simply stood in my silence with me.
"U-um..." The child started, making me internally groan at the loss. "You're...You're really pretty."
This made me open my eyes, because not once since I had come here, had any of the customers actually talked to me. Slowly, I turned my gaze down to the child, pausing when I found him to be rather on the small side, big brown eyes looking up at me unsurely, but in awe.
I know I am.
"Oh! You can hear m-me." He stuttered, taking a cautious step back.
Yes, I can, I'm not deaf.
"Uh...I-I...My name's Tsunayoshi...You can call me Tsuna." He offered gently, opening himself a little from his curl, hands loosening from their clench at his chest.
"Haha! Look at the No-Good Tsuna! He's talking to the bird!"
"Hey, No-Good! Birds don't speak Japanese! They're too dumb!"
My wing twitched. You...You wanna run that one past me again, mate?
"That's..." Tsuna began, before fading off as two girls and boy come up to him, all easily bigger than him.
"They don't talk, dummy!" The boy spat, crossing his arms.
"Yeah! Stupid!"
"No-Good Tsuna doesn't get it, he's too slow!"
I looked down on the obvious bullying and scanned the room, wondering where the fuck a responsible adult was in this mess. The way the small boy whimpered back spoke of previous encounters, and the matching uniforms showed a common school, making me twitch as I scanned the boy over again. There was dirt clinging to his knees and a bruise on his elbow, meaning he was either unfortunately clumsy or there were darker forces at play - perhaps a rather distasteful mixture of both.
My musings were pulled from me when I saw a girl raise her hand, a smug smirk on her face.
"You can't hit a girl, so there's nothing you can do about it!" She snickered, before bringing her hand down.
I shrieked and made them scream, their childish fear making them jump and whip around. Flapping my wings and shaking my cage, I alerted the staff to a dissatisfied Rosella, making them spin around and run over to placate me, effectively making the children scramble.
Noisy little buggers.
Huffing in annoyance, I waved off the cooed questions and settled down for them, puffing my body in a manner that made them roll their eyes in an almost fond manner. Taking a quick drink, I soothed my throat from the chaos and nibbled at the tip of my wings in content, once again returning to my perching before those children had flocked.
"Thank you..."
Oh God, it's not gone.
Looking over my shoulder, I gave him a look that suggested he scram, but he only continued to step closer.
"Um, thank you for...For helping me." He muttered, hand coming up to cover his lips behind a curled fist.
Great. Glad I could help. Now leave.
"Not many...No one really does help me. They usually just tell me to stand up for myself."
No. No, no, no, no, no, I am not your therapy bird. Shoo. Go away, fleshy creature.
"I try to, it's just...It doesn't seem to work and I just get beat up more." Tsuna whimpered, fiddling with the edge of his shirt.
I peered down at him, refusing to let the child lure me into his trap of feelings and emotions, stubbornly keeping my expression as birdy blank as I could manage. He thinned his lips awkwardly and prodded his fingertips together, giving a tiny, pathetic laugh.
"U-uh, I guess you don't really care, huh?" He sniffed, backing away a step. "I'll leave you alone now, then...Bye-bye, pretty birdy."
I watched him trudge away in a dejected fashion, looking like he was used to it, but like it didn't hurt any less.
...
"Eh! Is this the birdy you were talking about, Tsu-kun?"
I paused mid-gulp and looked to the voice, swallowing as I flattened my expression and locked my eyes onto the familiar ball of fluff that was the hair of one Tsunayoshi.
"Hello, pretty birdy." The boy waved, and I knew I was in trouble.
As soon as they opened my box, I launched myself into the cage and refused to exit it. Hissing at Sawada Nana as she slowly closed the gate and stepped back, off to find a cloth to cover my cage in.
They had bought me. Even after the cashier warned them about children and birds. Even after they were informed of my antics and anti-social behaviours. They still bought me.
They baffled me.
I huffed and dropped from the roof of the bars to land on the rocking perch, watching the woman as she covered my cage with the cloth, narrowing my eyes when she smiled softly at me.
"Don't worry, we won't touch you until you're ready." She cooed, before enshrouding me.
...
I stumbled around my new cage, getting used to the knick-knacks they had decorated it with, bells and mirrors, chew bars and colourful cloth plats. At the very least, they were taking me seriously.
It was dark, the night having long fallen and the small fleshy sent to bed as Nana sat in the living room with some sort of historical drama playing on the television. Bored, and with nothing else to do, I hopped over to the far corner and tried to watch, making a tweet of aggravation when the wall blocked my view.
The sound made the woman pause and glance over, her eyes widening when she saw me active.
"Haha, I thought you were meant to be asleep now?" She giggled, walking over and lifting the shroud gently. "What's wrong? Do you want more food?"
Huffing at her, I jumped onto the bars and surveyed my gate, making mental notes of how it turned, before hooking my beak into the curl and yanking it free, letting the door swing open. The woman gasped, but made no move to stop me as I began crawling up the face of the cage, eyeing her as she offered her arm.
"Do you want to?" Nana asked softly, not so much as flinching when I suddenly launched myself from the cage and swooped by her.
Whirling around the wall, I flapped my wings until I landed down on the couch arm, giving the room a good look over before deeming it safe enough. Nana walked back in carefully, as if not to spook me, and blinked when she found me pecking at the remote, furiously trying to turn up the volume.
"I can do that for you." She breathed, slowly taking the controller and upping the audio.
I eyed her, before bouncing off to the far side of the couch and dragging a pillow down from its angular perch, jumping up and settling into the soft centre.
Nana gazed at me for a moment, before smiling and sitting down on the other side of the couch, resuming her quiet knitting as we watched the scenes that flashed across the screen.
"It's odd," She breathed as a break came to the show. "I'm so used to sitting here alone."
I glanced to her, watching how she fiddled with short cut hair, a kind of solemn sadness on her young face.
Sawada Nana was no beauty queen, in fact, she was rather plain, but she just carried this air, that made people want to be close to her. This whole time, I had been fighting the urge to just settle for this woman, to become complacent, but whenever I found myself calming, I warned myself against it.
"My husband is usually away on business, so I so rarely get to see him. He's a miner. Always on adventures, you see." She hummed, looking to ring on her hand. "It makes me miss him. He never gets to see Tsu-kun grow up."
I gazed at her a moment, twisting my vision as I registered this information and shifted my eyes to the door leading to the stairs.
She's gotta be one woman army for that kid, huh…
"Ooh, the show's back," She suddenly perked, making me jump. "Sorry! Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."
Huffing, I burrowed further into the cushion and watched the sword fight, getting another soft apology from the woman.
"Tsu-kun! Time to wake up!" Nana called, before pouting as no reaction came. "Strawberry, could you wake him up for me please?"
I looked up from my station and huffed, puffing myself up in annoyance as the woman laughed. Whistling a tune, I flapped my wings until I was airborne, fluttering over to the sink until I could drop a dirty cup into the water.
"Thank you, Strawberry."
Strawberry. That was my new name. You wanna know why? 'Cause I was red and cause Tsuna won scissors-paper-rock.
Fucking lazy dimwit.
It had been near a year since I had been brought into the Sawada family, and I had found them to be just as chaotic as I had expected, but not as bad as I had expected. Sure, Tsuna's almost slammed a door on me a few times, and Nana uses me as a teddy when a character dies in her dramas, but they had grown on me. Like a fungus, almost. You can never quite get rid of them without using the chemical that took more effort than deserved.
The practically single mother pressed her hands together in a prayer motion and smiled at me from behind them, a hopeful noise escaping her when I gave her the flattest expression I could manage with my face.
"Please?"
Ruffling my feathers one last time at the woman just to convey the extent of my displeasure with her, I took off to swoop up the stairs. Coming to a stop before the young boy's door, I landed on the floor and hopped forwards, pushing the door open easily with the child-locks in place, allowing it to swing open. Fluttering up onto the top of the boy's wardrobe, I tweeted a note of exasperation at the sleeping boy.
Tsuna was nearing the end of his Elementary school life and had yet to perfect the art of actually waking up.
Come along, small fleshy, time to get up.
Taking a deep breath, I opened my beak and shrieked the highest tone I could manage, making the young boy jump and tumble out of bed.
"Wh- Strawberry!" He whined, sitting up from the floor as he rubbed the back of his head. "Can't you get me up normally?"
I tweeted before flapping over to his little clock, relishing in the shriek of fear he released when he saw the red number. Kekering at his dismay, I jumped up onto his head and nestled in place as he ran around the room, fluff keeping me happy and comfortable even amongst the chaos.
"Mama! Why didn't you wake me up!?" Tsuna cried, running into the kitchen to grab his lunch.
"What's the rush?" Nana asked as I hopped off her son's head and bounced over to my own breakfast, nibbling the boiled pieces from her palm. "You have another hour."
"H-huh?" He spluttered, gaping at his mother and I, before suddenly sobering and sticking me with a look. "You did it again!"
I peered at him and tilted my head.
"Strawberry~!" I sang innocently, eyes gleaming with mischief.
