Disclaimer #2: All mentions to other series that you recognize (Yes, even the Crow reference) are not to my own material. Virtual cookies to those who do recognize where all 3 are from, though.
Didn't put this before, but please review! Whether it's with criticism, what you liked, what you didn't like, who's OOC, etc. Thanks =)
Chapter 04
Waking up was slightly harder than usual, although the person in question didn't notice since he was still caught in the throes of almost-sleep. He stretched, arms and legs pulled as far apart as he could as his mouth opened in a great big yawn…
…before he suddenly noticed his sense of balance was completely off, and he tilted over and off the branch he was sitting on, straight onto the ground.
Wind knocked out of him, he lay there gasping on the ground for a few seconds, trying to get his breath back and stop the world from spinning, before he suddenly noticed that something was very, very, very wrong.
Where there should have been wings there were arms and hands, and where there should have been claws he had feet. He was much taller, and (the clincher) he was pale. Where were his feathers? His beak? (he thought as his hand rushed up to his mouth to touch his lips. Yes, there were lips.) His glorious sheen of black? Hell, he didn't know humans were this naked. Honestly, he thought those few crazy people who looked like this on the streets were wearing a really tight cloth that just blended in really well with the rest of their body. No animal could be this unprotected … could they?
Wait. Hold on. Izaya sat back, legs curled haphazardly under him. He shifted a little to get the remains of the branch out from under him. He was lucky he didn't see the practicality in flying up to a high perch when there were absolutely no predators only to come back down again every time just to be near his subjects. It turned out to be his saving grace, seeing as he would have ended up as a red splatter on the ground otherwise. At his core, Izaya was logical, and that didn't change despite the fact that he was no longer a bird. First, he had to sort through what was most important.
OK, so he was human.
Good. No, not good (or was it? Too early to answer) but it's not like there was anything he could do about it.
Why was he human?
Unknown. Was it that dubious food from yesterday? Hopefully not. If so, he'd have to haunt that motorcycle female for the rest of her life, not to mention the crazy food seller.
When did this happen?
Apparently last night. Which was odd because he hadn't noticed anything at all.
What to do now?
First, food. He could get that like he always had. After all, humans were the ones who originally threw the food away. Being stuck in a garbage can didn't mean that it suddenly became inedible. As for water, well, there was a fountain right here, and he could just sleep somewhere on the ground around here if he was tired. There wouldn't be any fear of being trampled, and nothing preyed on humans as far as he knew, so he should be safe.
In the past, that would have been all he had to worry about, but now… Izaya looked down at himself and frowned. He didn't really have an idea of where to get those clothes that humans were so proud of, and he really didn't want to attract that much attention just yet by wandering around without any. Perhaps there would be some in the alleys?
With this thought, he pushed himself up off from the ground. After a few seconds of guarded teetering, he was surprised to find himself still upright. Huh. He'd have thought it would be harder to walk on two legs without a tail to balance himself out. Curious, he took a few steps, and no one was more surprised than he to find himself still standing. Before long, he was making his way to the nearest dumpster for some hunting.
'Interesting,' thought Izaya. It seemed like he knew perfectly well how to control his limbs and how to balance and walk, even though he knew he did not know these things from before his mysterious transformation. He hurried along, doing his best to ignore the stares he attracted everywhere. Granted, this was especially easy since so many thoughts were rushing through his mind.
If he could walk and run like he had been doing this since the day he was hatched, did that mean he could talk like them? Did he think like them now? Rather, had his thought processes changed now that he was human and not bird? Because he did not know the answer to this question and knew there was now way to find out, he frowned. And then he stopped in his tracks as he realized what he just did, and with this came a slow creeping smile that spread across the whole of his face that only faltered when a loud honk drove him from his reverie. One of the cars was impatient to start moving again.
But never mind that. The smile was back on immediately as he made a beeline for the darkness of the seams between the buildings. It didn't leave his face as he rummaged through the trash looking for something that was more than a few rags, and he even found himself humming a nonsense tune as he held up what he thought was upper-wear.
By the time he had managed to pull the ragged shirt over his head, the smile had faded somewhat, though this was simply because his facial muscles were starting to get tired. But the light in his eyes were as strong as ever. The possibilities of what he could do now were whirring through his mind. Never before had he realized what he had been missing this whole time. Now he could walk amongst the humans. He wouldn't have to squabble over petty issues like food or territory that always seemed so important to others of his species. Instead he could do what he liked best and not worry about anyone else. This thought made him happy and he almost set off on another humming bout before he made a small sound of exclamation when he found some fitting shoes.
After a while of puzzling over how exactly to put this cloth items on, he nodded to himself, satisfied with his compiled outfit. With this, he turned and set off to the streets. The others walking by him still gave him weird looks, he noticed, but they swiftly turned their gaze instead of straight-out stared at him. He supposed that was better, but he wondered what caused the distinction in the way they treated him? Oh well, that was a question for another time.
Judging from his height, he was about the same age as the children with the backpacks. He wondered if this meant he had actually gotten younger with the transformation or if this was how old he really was. Eh, it didn't really matter.
His walk was uninterrupted for the most part, with most of the others passing by him without so much as a peep. He completely ignored the awkward atmosphere that seemed to revolve around him. It was only when two blue-clothed men approached did he finally feel compelled to stop. The two towered over him. He was fully aware that the only reason he wasn't feeling particularly worried was because his head was too high in the clouds to bother with old instincts. He hummed a little as he listened to their speech.
Clipped off syllables with a rough, formal tone. It didn't seem like they were angry, but it wasn't like he understood anything being said, so who knew. He didn't feel the need to let that on, though. He liked listening to people talk, so let them talk all they wanted. It was another one of those things that was just interesting about humans.
For all his observations, language was something that he had never quite gotten a hang of. He liked listening to the gibbering, though, and one day he had even given himself a name in the foreign language. That was why he was Izaya and everyone else just settled with an identifying caw or squeak or chirp. Just to validate it, he had even made sure to count the number of syllables being used, although the name was too long to say in his mind every single time, which was why he always used the shortened version 'Izaya.'
The talking stopped, and the two men were looking at him as though waiting for an answer. Izaya decided that this had gone on long enough and that he'd better not push his luck, so he quickly flashed what he hoped was an innocent smile and ran off. Yelps of surprise came from behind him at the sudden speedy departure of the child, but he was too thrilled listening to the pitter patter of his own feet on the cement to bother paying attention. The tap taps came so quickly, so much faster than he could have hoped as he was before, and before he knew it laughter rose from his throat in bubbling torrents, drawing stares from those around him.
But he didn't care. Why should he care?
The world was his to observe, to do as he pleased.
